Aimes & Pawson Take Fright

[Sophie ♥]

Aimes & Pawson Take Fright

Written by Sophie & Pudding
Art & Characters by JuiceBox

 

Aimes & Pawson is an ageplay children’s picture book intended for adult audiences. You can buy the full version with pictures on Amazon or by joining our SubscribeStar.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BXN7J86C 
https://www.subscribestar.adult/sophieandpudding

Our goal was to create a book for story time or bedtime, with no sexual themes and maximum Little feels! Some of the words can be quite big - upwards of 10 letters long! - so you may need an adult to read it for you.

This story takes place in the fall, when Aimes and her teddy bear Pawson find a haunted house.

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Chapter One

 

It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled like coyotes at an invisible moon, trapped behind heavy rumbling clouds. Barren tree branches bent sharply toward the ground and bounced back into place. The cobblestone path was littered with dead and shriveled leaves. It was this path that guided the way for two adventurers: a young woman named Aimes and her teddy bear Pawson.

 

"What's that rustling sound?" Pawson asked, a quiver in his voice. He had been so careful to avoid stepping on the fallen leaves, but the subtle echo of crinkling continued to follow him through the woods.

 

"It's just my diaper," Aimes scoffed, shaking her padded butt to make a point. Since Aimes wasn't wearing any pants, the rustling was loud enough for the little bear to hear. After all, he barely came up to her waist.

 

"Oh..." Pawson would have blushed if his stuffing would allow it.

 

"I swear, it's like you're scared of everything," Aimes said, stepping from one cobblestone to another like it was a game. She would sometimes criss-cross her steps just to make it interesting.

 

"Fear is a survival instinct," Pawson said. "It protects us from danger."

 

"Well I survive just fine," Aimes replied, "and I'm not afraid of anything."

 

Pawson elected not to add that the only reason she survived half the time was because he had enough survival instinct for the both of them. Instead, he said: "Everyone is afraid of something."

 

"Not me," Aimes said confidently. Pawson looked at her with skepticism, but a raindrop fell from an empty branch and onto his nose.

 

"Oh great..." Pawson sighed. "Why are dark nights always stormy ones?"

 

"C'mon," Aimes said, pulling Pawson by the paw. "I think I see a house up ahead."

 

Sure enough, there was a house up ahead. A flash of lightning illuminated the leaning building, askew on its foundation, resembling a tower of blocks more than a suitable home. It was huge, with missing shingles, broken windows, and fallen shutters. Ivy grew across it like time itself was threatening to reclaim the wood and glass.

 

Thunder sounded a moment later, rolling loudly across the overgrown lawn like pins at a bowling alley. There was a fence of warped and rusted metal surrounding the property with only one entrance: a creaking gate, swinging in the wind like a ball of yarn between a cat's paws.

 

"Absolutely not," Pawson said sharply, turning on his heel, but Aimes was still holding him by the paw.

 

"It's just a house, Pawson. You don't want to get wet, do you?"

 

"I'll risk it."

 

"Well I won't," Aimes said flatly. "I just changed, and I'm not wasting a good diaper."

 

Aimes let go of Pawson and walked past the creaking gate toward the spooky house in the distance. With a groan, Pawson resigned and followed behind her.

 

"I don't want to go into a haunted house," Pawson argued on the way to the house.

 

"Do you know what a misnomer is, Pawson?" Aimes asked her best friend as she dragged him up the uneven cobblestone pathway and onto the front porch. He opened his fuzzy mouth to answer, but Aimes had already started to provide one. For a girl her age, time moved at a different rate to the rest of the world. "It's when someone thinks something is true because something else is true. Like, for example, this house is old and scary looking, and that's true. But it's a misnomer to think it's haunted just because of that."

 

Confidently, Aimes raised her free hand to knock on the door, but as she did... the door opened on its own, with a loud crrrreeeeaaaak.

 

"You were saying?" Pawson said sourly, still standing on the far side of the porch.

 

"I say," Aimes said, "that the house is very inviting. Now stop being a scaredy bear."

 

Aimes stepped into the dark house, and - with no better option - Pawson hurried after her. For Aimes, nothing was worth believing until she could see it with her own eyes. "That's what science is," she always said.

 

The entryway opened up into a grand foyer, with a large staircase in front of them and doors on either side. The tile was dingy and dusty, like no one had cleaned it in years, and the nearby coatracks and sideboards were covered in cobwebs.

 

"Hello?" Aimes called up the stairs.

 

"Hello?" her voice echoed back, but quieter and further away. But before Aimes could ask the echo another question, the door behind Pawson slammed shut with a bang.

 

"AH!" Pawson yelped.

 

"It was just the wind, Pawson." Aimes rolled her eyes, taking her adventuring pack off her back. "Aren't you supposed to be the one that offers up all the rational explanations?"

 

"I draw the line at creepy old houses," Pawson stammered, trembling as he shuffled toward Aimes. "There are some things I'm happier not knowing."

 

"Like what? Ghosts?" Aimes was rummaging through her backpack for something.

 

"For starters."

 

Just then, in a flash of light, the shape of a ghost appeared on the far wall.

 

"AGH!" Pawson nearly jumped out of his fur, stumbling clumsily over himself and landing flat on the dirty tile at Aimes' feet.

 

"Oops," Aimes stifled a laugh, fumbling with the flashlight in her hands. She took off the little cap and the bright ghost shape on the wall turned into a plain circle. She had bought the spooky flashlight caps from a Halloween store in the last town; she forgot the ghost one was still fitted on the end.

 

"You're doing this on purpose," Pawson said, still trying to catch his breath.

 

"I swear, I'm not!" Aimes argued, still trying not to laugh. "Would you feel better if you held the light?"

 

Pawson didn't answer right away. He stood back up and dusted himself off, then took the flashlight from Aimes.

 

"Scaredy bear," Aimes teased.

 

"We'll see," Pawson said sourly. There had to be something Aimes was afraid of.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

"Do you really think there's ghosts in here?" Aimes asked curiously, walking over to a nearby door and opening it up. It was a broom closet, and there were no ghosts inside. So she tried the next one.

"Oh absolutely," Pawson encouraged, knowing full well that there was no such thing as ghosts. Lying to Aimes wasn’t a habit of his, but she had been teasing him all day. And besides, Aimes had to be afraid of something. Everyone was afraid of something! The sooner Aimes learned to set aside her pride, the safer she would be.

 

As Aimes struggled with a locked cabinet, Pawson fiddled with the flashlight and leaned back against the wall, but he leaned too far and fell flat on his back with a yelp. That’s when he realized that he hadn't missed the wall: the wall moved.

 

"Oh cool, Pawson!" Aimes said excitedly. "You found a secret passage! How'd you do that?"

"Just lucky I guess." Or unlucky, Pawson thought, because he knew that Aimes would want to follow it. Sure enough...

 

"Let's see what's in there," Aimes said, pushing past her friend and into the little hole that opened up in the wall.

 

Pawson shined the flashlight ahead of Aimes. The passageway was a dark and empty corridor. It was low to the ground, like a crawlspace. Aimes quickly fell to her knees and made her way in. Pawson walked behind her diapered butt and his hat only barely grazed the beams above him.

 

"Did you ever stop to think that we are breaking and entering?" Pawson asked. "This isn't our house."

 

"Well, we didn't break anything," Aimes challenged. "The door opened all on its own. And we did announce ourselves."

 

"I don't think shouting up the stairs is the same as announcing yourself," Pawson said, more to himself than to Aimes, who had reached the end of the corridor.

 

"Shine the light over here," Aimes said. Her teddy bear did as he was told. The wall in front of Aimes looked different. Most of the tunnel was made of plaster and old wooden beams, but this wood was polished and pretty.

 

Aimes took a moment to think about it, then pushed on the wall. With a soft scraping sound, it slid out of the way. When Aimes climbed out into the new room, she found that the thing she had pushed was the back of a bookshelf. Actually, the room was full of bookshelves!

 

"It's a hidden library, Pawson! Look at all the books. There's soooo many, but I don’t see any doors out... oh! Oh! Maybe one of these leads to a secret passage." Aimes was giddy with excitement as she walked to one of the bookshelves and pulled down on one of the books.

 

Nothing happened. At least, nothing happened that Aimes could see. High above her, on the upper shelves, books started to wiggle out of their places. Pawson flashed the light around the room just in time to see one of the books wiggling on the shelf above his companion.

"Aimes, look out!" Pawson shoved Aimes out of the way just as a book fell off the shelf above her.

 

"Woah, hey! What's that about?" Aimes asked, because the book didn't hit the floor. It spilled open, pages fluttering in the air, and swooped back toward the ceiling. Pawson pointed up at the high ceiling as another book - no, two... no, three... no, four! - fell off the shelves and started flying around the room. Every so often the books would dive down at Aimes or Pawson and they would duck out of the way.

 

"Run!" Pawson said in a panic.

 

"Where?" Aimes looked around the room, but there wasn't a way out.

 

"Then hide!" Pawson said, dodging another book and ducking under the table in the middle of the room. A big book swooped down from the top shelf like a bird and Aimes stepped out of the way. She pressed her back against the bookshelves and watched the books flap their covers.

 

"Aimes, get under here!" Pawson urged. "You're gonna get hurt!"

 

"Hold on a sec," Aimes said to her friend, eyeing the books as they circled around the ceiling. "I've seen that before..."

 

"Seen what?" Pawson asked, just as a book crashed to the ground in front of him. He shined the flashlight on it.

 

"I dunno. That pattern." Aimes watched as the book on the floor took flight again, catching a glimpse of the cover in the otherwise dark library. A coloring book?

 

"Aimes!"

"One second!" Aimes was tapping her chin with her finger, working something out. She watched the books flying around, darting from one side of the library to the other. Then, like a little huntress, she waited for a book to get low enough to pounce on top of it. The book landed hard on the floor with an oof! sound and Aimes pinned it in place.

 

"I got you!"

Pawson looked on in awe, but he was shaken from his stupor when Aimes called: "C'mere, Pawson!"

 

"Ugh!" Pawson crawled out from under the table and hurried over to her side.

 

"Get the crayons out of my backpack, okay?"

 

"Crayons?" Pawson asked. But before Aimes could explain, he was already climbing onto his friend's back and rummaging through her pack. The book thrashed, almost knocking Aimes off a handful of times, but she kept it pinned to the ground until Pawson handed her the box of crayons.

 

"I need a black one," Aimes said.

 

"The color is important?" Pawson asked.

 

"Of course!"

 

Another book swooped down and Pawson ducked out of the way. He opened up the box of crayons and found the black one in the light of the flashlight. Once he gave it to Aimes, she pulled open the pages of the coloring book and started to fill in the outline of a bat with black crayon. Within seconds, the book settled down. Actually, all the books flying overhead slowly lowered themselves into a pile on the nearby table. Aimes stuck out her tongue in thought, focusing hard to make the bat on the page look as bat-like as possible.

 

"Wow..." Pawson was impressed. "How'd you figure that out?"

 

"They were flapping around differently," Aimes told him. "I think some are birds and some are butterflies, but this one was definitely a bat. It was all over the place."

Pawson couldn't argue with that logic, as much as he longed to. And boy did he long to. Instead Pawson said: "These coloring books must have been here for ages."

"I bet they just wanted to be colored in," Aimes said.

 

"I don't think coloring books have wants," Pawson said.

 

Aimes rolled her eyes, gestured to the stack of coloring books, and said with sarcasm: "Clearly."

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

"Well, while you do that, I'm gonna look for a way out of here." Pawson left Aimes' side to look at the books on the shelves. Every so often, he would have to return with the flashlight so Aimes could pick a new colored crayon. After a while, Pawson found one book in particular that was an unusual shade of red. It was also much thicker than the other books on the shelf. The title read: A Guide To Secret Passageways.

 

"I might have found something," Pawson said.

 

"I only have one book to go," Aimes called back. Pawson dragged the table from the center of the room over to the bookshelf with the red book. Standing on top of it, he could just barely tug on the spine. Sure enough, as he did so, the wall opened into a dark hallway. This one was person-sized.

"I like when things make sense." Pawson let out a sigh of relief.

 

“Aaaaand, done,” Aimes said, adding the final coloring book to the stack. She got up off the floor and slipped her box of crayons back into her pack. Then she made her way over to her teddy bear, standing in front of an impossibly dark hallway. Even the flashlight could hardly pierce the blackness.

Pawson didn't want to go down that dark and spooky corridor, but there weren't many other options. Other than crawling back through the tunnel to the foyer, this was the only exit he could find. Aimes could have walked behind him, since Pawson had the flashlight, but she walked alongside him anyway. She didn't seem the least bit scared.

 

"None of this gives you goosebumps?" Pawson asked, not knowing entirely what goosebumps felt like.

 

"Not really," Aimes shrugged. "Everything in the dark is also there in the light, so what is there to be scared of?"

 

"That's... a fair point." Actually, it put Pawson's mind at ease. At least, it did until he remembered neither of them had seen the haunted house in the daytime either.

"I wonder where the owners are? It's such a big house, someone has to live here, right?" Aimes posited as the two of them walked down the corridor.

 

Pawson thought about that question and offered: "Well, someone opened the front door."

 

"Or it was a ghost," Aimes said flippantly, and it took every bit of willpower for Pawson not to correct her. For now, Pawson let her believe that was the case. The hallway eventually came to an end, and there was nowhere else to go.

 

"Looks like we're going into one of these rooms," Aimes said with a chipper voice. It sounded like she had been waiting to say that since the moment they entered the hallway. She looked to Pawson for approval, who reluctantly nodded.

 

Aimes picked the closest door and opened it. Inside was a long table and a dozen or so chairs. Pawson flashed the light over the room; the table was dressed in a white cloth, stained red in some spots. Plates were placed in front of each chair, and some of the empty goblets were tipped over.

 

A large set of windows spanned one wall. Outside, the pattering of rain splashed against the unbroken panes, and the howling wind found its way in through the broken ones. Tree branches tapped and scratched against the windowsills.

 

"Looks like they left before dinner was served," Aimes observed, running her finger along the fine silver spoons. They were caked in dust.

"At least they’re not still here," Pawson said, adding a bit of spooky ambiance to the whole situation. "Could you imagine the smell? It might be worse than your morning di—"

 

"Oh look!" Aimes cut Pawson off, pointing at a spot on the ceiling beside the chandelier. A drop of liquid fell down onto the tablecloth. Crimson spread over the white linen as the drop was soaked up. It seemed to be leaking.

 

"It’s red?" Aimes asked inquisitively. "That's odd."

If the color could have drained from the magenta teddy bear's face, it would have in that moment. Pawson watched another drop splat down onto the tablecloth, soaking into the fabric and leaving behind a slick gooey residue. Aimes climbed up onto the table to get a better look.

 

Then the drops came down faster. Drip. Drip. Drip.

 

Then in more than one spot, peppering the tablecloth in red puddles. Drip. Drip. Drip.

 

Aimes was still standing on the table, looking up at the cracks in the ceiling where the heavy chandelier was pulling down on the woodwork.

"Aimes!" Pawson clamored onto the table as best as his little bear arms would let him: first onto a chair, then onto the table.

 

"Roofs don’t usually leak red stuff, Pawson." Aimes didn't seem fazed by this at all, but the fuzzy little bear was almost in hysterics. It was raining blood!

Lightning struck something outside. The roar of thunder was paired with a loud crunching sound, and then the groan of something heavy. With a loud crash, the table shook and knocked Aimes, Pawson, and two place settings to the ground. Then the ceiling gave way and the chandelier crashed down just where Aimes was standing a moment ago. With it came a flood of red and glass.

 

Once the dust began to settle, Pawson tried to catch his breath. Aimes rubbed her hip, crinkling the wing of her diaper. Everything was so still all of a sudden, and the whole room smelled of...

 

Was it fruit?

 

"Jeeze, that hurt..." Aimes said, climbing to her feet. She helped Pawson up next, then went to inspect the damage. There was a huge hole in the ceiling.

 

Then her boot crunched down on a big heap of glass. She picked up the flashlight from the ground where Pawson had dropped it and shined the light on it. Amongst the shards was a label. Aimes had to tilt her head to read it.

 

"Raspberry jelly?" Aimes read aloud. "I guess the pantry is above this room. That explains a lot."

"...what do you mean raspberry jelly?" Pawson asked. There was no way that the bleeding ceiling could have been raspberry jelly! That was absurd! That was silly! That was... Pawson dipped his paw into the red and took a tentative sniff. That was absolutely correct. Pawson was shivering, coming down from a darn near panic attack, and Aimes wasn't even perturbed in the slightest!

"Well, we should get going," Aimes said. She dusted off her bare thighs and headed to the other side of the dining room, where a door was waiting for them.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Aimes led the way through the door in the dining room and into the next room. Pawson toddled after her as fast as his little legs would allow. They wandered through two sitting rooms before Aimes noticed a staircase along the far wall.

 

"If there are any ghosts, they have to be upstairs, right?" Aimes asked.

 

"I suppose..." Pawson was losing faith in his practical joke. The more they wandered through the haunted house, the less likely it seemed that Aimes could be scared of anything. But until the storm passed, it wasn't safe to go outside.

"Then upstairs we go!"

 

"Just be careful," Pawson said. "After all that raspberry jelly fell into the dining room, I don’t think the floors are very safe. This place should honestly be condemned."

 

"Condemned?" Aimes asked. "I think everything deserves a second chance."

 

"Not that kind of condemned," Pawson sighed.

 

Regardless, Aimes went up the staircase two steps at a time. They creaked under her weight. Pawson shined the way with the flashlight and Aimes had to brush some cobwebs away on the upper landing. In front of them was another hallway, lit only by the flashlight and the occasional flash of lightning from the windows on the far end of the hall.

 

"Eenie meenie miney mo..." Aimes sung to herself as she passed by the doors. Finally, she settled on one near the end of the halls and knocked politely before entering.

"I don't think you need to knock, Aimes. I'm pretty sure there's nobody else here but us." Or at least Pawson hoped that was the case.

 

"It’s only polite," Aimes said. "I would hate to walk in on someone changing." Though to Aimes, ‘walking in on someone changing’ had a different meaning. She waited a moment after the knock and opened the door.

 

Inside was a nursery. The wallpaper was striped with little stencils of boats and planes, but it was already peeling off the walls in huge sheets. There was a painted-white wooden crib on the far wall by one of the only windows in the house that wasn't broken. Little bookshelves were decorated with toys. But most interestingly, shelves lined every single wall - about a foot from the ceiling - and they were filled with porcelain dolls.

 

Pawson hesitated in the doorway, shining the flashlight everywhere Aimes went. She went to the changing table first and fished around under the tabletop. She turned back to Pawson and the smile had faded from her face. Just when Pawson began to worry something was truly wrong, she said: "Cloth diapers. Ew."

Pawson put his paw to his face and groaned. Nothing was going to scare Aimes at this rate. Pawson slouched back, and for a moment he could have sworn one of the dolls’ heads moved to look at him. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, all his fur standing on end.

"Aimes, I don't know about this place..." He stepped into the room to be closer to his companion, and when he did the door slammed shut behind him. He dropped his flashlight in surprise and turned to tug at the door.

 

"It's probably just jammed," Aimes said calmly, walking back over to the light on the other end of the room to give Pawson the flashlight.

 

As she took her own shot at opening the door, Pawson looked around the room nervously. The flashlight lit up the crib. The unbroken window. The changing table. The shelves and shelves of dolls. Except... two spots were empty. Weren't there dolls there before?

"Aimes," Pawson hissed quietly. "Two of the dolls are missing." He pointed a paw, and Aimes looked up at the shelf and gasped.

 

"Oh no... no no no, oh Pawson, don't you know what this means?"

 

Finally! Pawson thought. She understands how much danger we're in!

 

But then Aimes said: "It means the little kid who lived here never got to complete their collection!"

Pawson groaned and turned to his friend: "No, they were there a moment ago!" When Pawson turned back, two dolls - no taller than Pawson himself - were standing side by side in the center of the room, both facing Aimes and Pawson.

 

"AH!" Pawson stepped backwards into Aimes, trembling from head to toe. He held the flashlight tight with both hands, pointed right at the dolls, and refused to blink. If he looked away for even one moment, they might...

 

"I bet they wanna play," Aimes said, stepping forward. She reached down and scooped up one of the dolls the same way she would scoop up Pawson.

"Oh gosh, look at you. I bet you haven't had someone play with you in so very long! My name's Aimes, and I'm going to call you... Audrey." Aimes nodded her head happily and looked down at the other doll. "Your name can be… Staycee."

 

"Aimes, I really don't think this is a good idea..." Pawson tried the handle again, fumbling to do so without looking away from his best friend.

 

"Nonsense," Aimes dismissed, dusting off the dolls with her hands. "Imagine if you were stuck in a room all alone. You'd wanna play too."

 

Pawson couldn't argue with that, but he kept the flashlight on the dolls all the same. Aimes went to a nearby shelf, grabbed an old tea set, and put it on the floor in the middle of the room. Then she situated the dolls so they were sitting, one on each side of her.

 

"Come on, Pawson" Aimes urged, motioning to the empty spot across from her. "We saved you a seat."

"You know, I just don't know if I'm in the mood for t-t-tea..." The bear stammered out, one bright paw held in front of his mouth nervously. Lightning flashed outside and it filled the room with white light for a moment; when it faded, both the dolls had their heads now turned to look directly at Pawson.

"You're being very rude to our hosts," Aimes hissed across the tea set, pouring a cup of imaginary tea for each of the dolls.

 

Pawson knew when he wasn't going to get anywhere with Aimes; sometimes she was just too headstrong. So with his eyes on the dolls, Pawson sat down on the floor across from Aimes.

 

"Well let's hurry this up then."

"More tea, Miss Staycee?" Aimes asked, then poured the empty teapot over one of the dolls' cups. "And for you, Sir Pawson?"

 

"I'd be delighted," Pawson said, putting on a haughty voice and doing his best not to allow his trembling to impact the tone. Aimes tilted the teapot over his cup as well and he picked it up, sipping from the rim. After a few more cups of tea and a discussion about the difference between cookies and biscuits, a quiet creak interrupted the party.

 

"Look Pawson, the door is open." Aimes pointed behind Pawson, and sure enough she was right.

 

"That was spooky," Pawson muttered, letting out a sigh of relief.

 

“I told you it was jammed," Aimes said, standing on her feet and picking the dolls up in her arms. She put each one back on the shelves in the empty spots. "Now that the house has settled, it opened up."

"That doesn't make any sense at all..." The bear grumbled, with his arms crossed over his chest.

 

"And yet the door is open," Aimes countered.

"Let's just get out of here." Pawson picked up the flashlight and hurried to hold open the door, just in case it decided to close again. Aimes put the tea set away and followed Pawson back into the hall.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

The hallway had a few other doors, but Pawson wouldn't go into any of them.

 

"I don't want to get stuck again," he said.

 

"Fine," Aimes groaned. "But I think you're just being a scaredy bear."

 

"I'm being practical."

 

"Practically a scaredy bear," Aimes teased.

 

At the end of the hall, there was a corner turn. It led to the foyer, at the top of the main set of stairs.

 

"Oh, thank goodness," Pawson sighed. Even the thunder outside was becoming nothing more than a low rumble. He could hear the pattering of rain on the shingles above beginning to slow.

 

"Look at this," Aimes said, walking down a short hallway to a pair of double doors. "This must be the master bedroom."

"Or we could just sit by the front door and wait for the rain to stop," Pawson said. Aimes looked at him like he'd just spoken a foreign language that she didn't know, and then after a moment a big grin spread across her face.

 

"Oh Pawson! You almost had me, there!" And with that, Aimes shoved open the double doors.

Aimes was right: it was indeed a master bedroom. The decor was fancy and old, with beautiful wooden furniture covered in dust. The fabric on the bed was ridden with holes where bugs had nibbled away at the threads. On the far side was a huge window, looking out into the backyard. Aimes pranced over to it excitedly, floorboards creaking beneath her, but outside was so dark that it was hard to see. There wasn't even that much lightning anymore.

 

Aimes turned around and met Pawson in the center of the bedroom, looking a little disappointed.

 

"I guess I expected something more unusual," she said, tilting her head.

 

"Um... Aimes..." Pawson said.

 

"Coloring and playing tea party was really fun," Aimes went on.

 

"Aimes?" Pawson's voice became a little more urgent.

 

"But I thought there would be a ghost or something, at the very least."

 

"AIMES!" Pawson was shaking head to toe.

 

"Oh my goodness, what?"

 

Pawson pointed at Aimes with his paw. No, he was pointing over Aimes' shoulder. She turned slowly, until she was face to face with a translucent person with sunken eyes and long wild hair. It leaned in close to her, floating above the ground, and Aimes felt a shiver run up her spine.

 

"OOoooOOoo!" the ghost wailed.

 

For a moment - a very brief moment - Aimes was speechless. Then she took a breath and shouted: "Cool! A real life ghost!"

 

"Seriously?" Pawson asked in disbelief. He stomped forward until he was standing between Aimes and the ghost. "This isn't scary to you? Seriously?"

 

"Not really," Aimes shrugged.

 

"It's. A. GHOST!" Pawson shouted, his frustration boiling over. "It's terrifying!"

 

"I am kind of terrifying," the ghost said, quiet and ethereal.

 

"Sorry," Aimes shrugged, a little bashfully. "I just think ghosts are cool."

 

"I give up," Pawson sighed. "I'm done. You're not scared of anything, okay? Are you happy?"

 

"Hey now," Aimes softened her tone. "It's okay that you're scared and I'm not."

 

"No it isn't!" Pawson shouted. He walked through the ghost toward the far window. "Being scared keeps you safe! If you can't be scared, how can I be sure you're safe?"

"Pawson," Aimes sighed, following Pawson through the ghost.

 

"Uh... boo?" the ghost tried again, having just had two people walk through them like they weren't even there.

 

"We're trying to have a conversation," Pawson shouted at the ghost. "Go haunt someone else."

 

"Wow. Okay, rude." The ghost drifted through the floor and vanished.

 

"I don't need to be scared of stuff to be safe," Aimes said to her best friend, ignoring the ghost's departure. "I have you. You'll be scared for me."

 

"You make fun of me for it," Pawson shot back.

 

"I was teasing," Aimes argued, but... "But if it upsets you, I won't do it anymore. I never want to make you feel bad for who you are."

 

They were both quiet for a moment. The silence was only broken when a loud crack rang throughout the house. Suddenly, the floor tilted and Aimes fell flat on her diapered butt. Pawson tumbled backwards and fell into the big glass window. The floorboards between them cracked and split and the panes of glass shattered around Pawson.

 

"PAWSON!" Aimes dashed to her feet and sprinted across the length of the room, jumping over the broken floorboards. She reached out and grabbed Pawson's paw just as the window gave way and crashed down into the backyard. The floor collapsed under Aimes' feet and she fell onto her stomach, holding Pawson out the two-story window.

 

"Don't let go!" Aimes shouted, but Pawson could hardly hear her over the cracking and snapping of wood as the back of the house began to crumble down around them. She inched herself forward until she could see Pawson's face, looking up at her in fear.

 

"The whole house is coming down!" Pawson shouted. Just then, another crack lilted the house to the left and both of them slid to the corner of the window frame. Pawson was almost touching the ground at that point, so he kicked his feet against the house and pulled on Aimes' wrist. She tumbled out after him, and they both crashed into the soft, wet grass.

 

"Ow..." Aimes rubbed her shoulder and looked down at Pawson, who was wet and ragged. Another cracking sound brought Aimes back to the urgency of the situation. She scooped her companion up in her arms and ran down the hill just as the debris of the house came crumbling down around her. She tripped over something invisible, dropped her friend, and fell forward until she reached the bottom of the hill.

 

At the bottom of the hill, everything was still. The rain had stopped, but everything was dark and wet. A few feet away, Aimes could see the light of the flashlight, having tumbled down the hill after them. She reached for it and flashed the light around.

 

"Pawson?" Aimes said, fear in her voice. She shined the flashlight up the hill, at the mound of old wood, but no sign of her purple teddy bear. She shouted louder: "Hey, Pawson? Where are you?"

Aimes waved the flashlight, pointing the light at everything around her. Her eyes were wide and her movements twitchy and erratic.

 

"Pawson! Pawson! Where are you? Pawson...? Oh oh oh!" The light glazed over something that caught her attention in the mud; the top curves of a very familiar looking hat. Pawson's hat! She dropped to her hands and knees in the mud and grasped at the hat, but when she lifted it up... there was nothing beneath it. No Pawson. Not even a sign of Pawson. The rain might have stopped, but nothing could have kept Aimes’ cheeks dry in that very moment.

 

"No no no, pretty please no..." The storm had passed, and the house was gone, and the only noise was that of Aimes sobbing quietly to herself. Quietly, but perhaps loud enough that she didn't hear the soft plush footsteps approach.

"That was a disaster," Pawson muttered, stumbling into view. He fell back on his butt and rubbed the side of his head. His fur was covered in mud. Then he looked up at Aimes with tears in her eyes.

 

"What?" he asked.

 

"Pawson, you're okay!" Aimes sprang forward and hugged her muddy teddy bear tight against her chest. "I was so scared you were hurt or something!"

 

"You were scared?" Pawson asked incredulously, trying to get out of her embrace. When she finally let him go, she looked at him a little dumbfounded.

 

"I guess I was," she admitted. "I was scared I'd lost you."

 

Pawson was quiet for a moment, then he took his hat back from his companion and put it back on his head.

 

"Scaredy bear," he teased.

 

"I sure am," Aimes laughed, wiping tears from her eyes.

 

"I told you that house was dangerous," Pawson said, using his stern voice.

 

"I should have listened," Aimes agreed. "I guess I was so sure nothing bad could happen to me that I didn't think about what bad things might happen to you."

 

"Well, I guess I'm so worried about what bad things might happen to you," Pawson said, "that I don't think about what good things might happen to me."

 

Aimes got to her feet and handed Pawson his flashlight. He got to his feet and took it.

 

"I'll be more thoughtful from now on," Aimes promised.

 

"No, that's alright," Pawson smiled. "I never want to make you feel bad for who you are."

 

"Well, I think we make a pretty good team."

 

"Yeah, me too," Pawson agreed. Then he looked around the empty wood. It was the middle of the night and they had nowhere to go. "So what now?"

 

"We should find somewhere to set up camp," Aimes insisted. "I could really use a diaper change."

 

"I bet," Pawson laughed.

 

With the the haunted remains of the haunted house on the haunted hill behind them, Aimes and Pawson ventured into the woods hand in hand.

 

[End.]