A Nightfall Lullaby

Mr. Nightfall was a lullaby in a Mother Goose book — that was also on cassette tape — when I was little. We had the Talking Mother Goose itself, an actual mechanical goose that had her bonnet, scarf, and a moving beak. Under one of her wings was a cassette player. My parents had bought many of the book and cassette combos for me, and one of them was filled with innocent lullabies. All original to Mother Goose, no dark history or horrific underlying theme like in many atypical nursery rhymes.

Yet, Mr. Nightfall in particular terrified me. Whether it was the beginning somber tones and the key it was sung in, or the idea of a strange man flying overhead to bring in the night, it became notorious as a song that brought me dread as soon as the first sound flowed from Mother Goose’s speaker.

I can speculate all night about the deeper reason. Maybe I was terrified of a man bringing the night because darkness and sleeping, to me, was symbolic of death; I’d been nearly dead when I was born and spent an entire month paralyzed on life support. Maybe the idea of a strange man just watching everyone sleep, or putting everyone to sleep, in itself was horrifying.

I stumbled across it again recently. I still have that book, and the beginning tones of the song still make me a little unsettled due to muscle memory from so many years ago. I remember the dread that’s stored deep in my bones for something so innocent. The lullaby with the illustrations included is here if you want to listen.

I wrote a short story to explore Mr. Nightfall as more of a horror figure. You can read that below.

⸸ ⸸ ⸸

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Kat said. “Don’t you like the song?”

Jenevelle’s crying quieted as she pulled the blankets up to her mouth. She shook her head.

Kat frowned, slumped over, and shut the hardback nursery rhymes book. “It’s supposed to help you sleep. What’s so scary about it?” She lifted the wing of the Talking Mother Goose and stopped the tape.

Jenevelle’s mouth slipped up from under the edge of the blanket. “Is there really a man that flies in the sky at night?”

Kat chuckled. “Just Mr. Nightfall. He spreads the night from under his cape that’s all sorts of pretty colors.” She opened the book again and flipped to the vibrant illustration of a young man with short brown hair and pale skin. He wore a yellow nightcap, striped yellow pajamas, and had a cape flying behind him, spreading night over the sunset sky as he looked down over the world.

Jenevelle pulled the blankets to her mouth again and tears burned her eyes.

Kat held up the book. “See? He’s nice. Remember Peter Pan?”

Jenevelle nodded.

“Well, Mr. Nightfall just flies through the sky like that, except he brings the night. It’s a bit like tucking the sky in for sleep, just like I tuck you into bed every night.”

Jenevelle cried again and her eyes darted around the dimly lit room. Her small bedside lamp didn’t seem bright enough now. It never was enough to chase away the shadows, not even with the bedroom door cracked. It just created more of them.

“It’s scary,” Jenevelle cried. “Is he up in the sky now? Watching us?”

Kat shut the book again and stood from the bed. “Jen, these songs aren’t scary. Kids even younger than you listen to these to go to sleep. Your brother used to listen to the same songs and he liked them.” She sighed tiredly. “You’re starting kindergarten soon. You’re getting too old for these things anyway.”

Jenevelle looked up toward the ceiling and stared. Her heart beat in her chest as her breathing quickened. She remained mute, intent on listening for any sounds outside. Not even the wind rustled the trees in the quiet summer night. When she looked back down, she focused on her mother’s shadow, which shifted as the woman placed a hand on her hip.

Kat glanced at her watch to see that it was half past nine. “Would it help if we went outside for a minute? We can look at the stars and you’ll see everything is fine. I’ll be right with you.”

Jenevelle’s eyes widened as she gripped her teddy bear. Maybe it would be better to know for sure, just so she could see for herself if a man was really up there floating across the sky. As she lowered her blanket and hugged the brown bear tight against her cotton Babar the elephant-print pajamas, a new fear caused her to tremble. What if the song got Mr. Nightfall’s attention? Did he visit children who played it at night?

How many times had he been there? Just peering through the window on the dark side of the house, watching her sleep with those soulless blue eyes.

“Come on, it’s safe. I promise,” Kat said with a smile as she held out her hand. She wiggled her fingers playfully.

Jenevelle slipped from under the covers, her eyes darting around the room. “Okay, but not for a long time. Promise we can run back inside?”

Kat chuckled. “Sure. We can run back inside.”

Jenevelle grasped her mother’s white hand, and the two made their way through the house. Dark wooden panel walls passed by as they stepped quietly across the dull green carpet. The warm lighting in the hall illuminated the cracked door to a little boy’s room — Jenevelle’s older brother who had just started third grade. The sound of a Teddy Ruxspin tape seeped quietly from the dark room, and Jenevelle caught sight of some glow in the dark stars illuminating the walls around the bed.

“Where are you two going?” Robert, a tall man in his late thirties, said. He looked over from where he sat in a blue recliner chair, the glow from the large TV encased in a wooden set illuminating his tanned features. Audience laughter from Cheers filled the living room.

Kat approached her husband and rustled his short brown hair lovingly. “Just going for a little nighttime walk. Jen’s still afraid of those lullabies.”

“Still?” Robert quirked a brow at his daughter, who looked away awkwardly. “What’s so scary about a lullaby, Jen?”

Jenevelle glanced at the man and spoke quietly. “There’s a weird man that makes the night come. He flies over our house every night.”

Kat looked at her husband with a smile. “Mr. Nightfall. She’s always been afraid of that one for some reason.”

“I guess it’s kind of creepy, if you think about it,” Robert said teasingly.

Kat playfully smacked him on the arm. “Stop it, you’ll scare her even more!” She tugged on Jenevelle’s hand. “Come on, you’ll see there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

As the two slipped through the back white screen door, they were greeted with the sounds of an August night in Ohio; frogs and crickets sang in a distant creek near the back of the yard, and one or two cars drove by in the distance. The silver, red, and blue swing set remained still in the summer night, and the fire pit on the other side of the back yard still held charred remnants of their family gathering from last night. Kat still hadn’t taken the tarp down that had formed a tent where they’d laid out grilled foods and snacks on fold-up tables.

Jenevelle was afraid to step off of the covered porch. It felt safe there still, and she knew once she left its shadow she’d be overwhelmed by the vast, dark blue expanse that reminded her of a glittering ocean.

“See the stars?” Kat said and pointed. She went to drop her daughter’s hand, but the girl gripped it tight. “Aren’t they pretty tonight?”

Jenevelle nodded. “They’re always pretty.” She gasped as a sudden idea struck her. “Is Mr. Nightfall one of the constamations?”

Kat chuckled. “A constellation? Maybe. Would that make him less scary?”

Jenevelle nodded and smiled. “Way less scary. So maybe he’s just made of stars that look like a man.”

“Maybe.” Kat tugged her daughter’s hand. “Come on, let’s go see.”

The two walked out onto the lawn and looked up into the sky. Jenevelle’s nerves had calmed considerably with her revelation, and she searched the stars to see if she could spot a shape that might fit a man with a cape. She couldn’t really find any of the others she’d learned about, like the large bear and the small one, or the goat with a fish tail. Her mom had taught her about what shapes they took; simple ones that looked nothing like the actual thing.

Something bright shot across the sky.

“A shooting star!” Kat exclaimed. “Quick, make a wish.”

Jenevelle closed her eyes and thought hard. She wished for Mr. Nightfall to not be real, to just be a constellation or a fantasy like Peter Pan. She could deal with that just fine, and the lullaby would no longer be frightening. She liked the music that played with it anyway.

Jenevelle opened her brown eyes. “Okay, I made a wish.”

Kat brushed back some of her long, blonde curly hair. “What was it?” she asked.

“I’m not supposed to tell!” Jenevelle wiggled her mom’s hand. “It won’t come true then.”

“Right, right.” Kat looked down at her daughter. “So now that you know no one’s up there watching you, can you go to bed?”

Jenevelle nodded. “Yes, I’m really tired anyway. Just no more Mother Goose tonight, okay?”

“Deal.” Kat smiled and dropped Jenevelle’s hand, and the two walked back inside. Jenevelle slipped into bed and was tucked in, and the door was left cracked open to let a strip of the warm light in the hall into the darkened room. The nightlight on Jenevelle’s nightstand was lowered to a dull glow.

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It was two in the morning when Jenevelle’s eyes opened. She’d snuck a bit of juice before bed and it was causing an ache that warned of an accident if she didn’t hurry to the toilet.

Toilet flushed and hands washed, the girl made her way back to her bed and wiggled in beneath the blankets to drift back off to sleep. A tapping caused her to freeze.

It had come from the window on the other side of the room. The curtains were pulled aside to let the moonlight in. Jenevelle’s anxiety spiked, but she glanced over anyway. It might have just been an animal or a branch.

The girl’s blood ran cold. The top half of a pale young man’s face stared at her through two small circles that were blue; just like the eyes in the Mr. Nightfall illustration.

Jenevelle tried to grip her teddy bear, but as the window slowly opened, she realized she couldn’t move at all. The man that looked just like Mr. Nightfall rose slowly, revealing more of his face as he stared unblinkingly at the girl.

A pale hand gripped the window’s ledge and the strange visitor slipped inside, his gaze never leaving the girl on the bed. He said not a word as the night crept in behind him; dark blue and glittering distant stars filled the room like a smog. They emanated from the cape on the man’s back that carried the darkness with it.

All Jenevelle could do was watch silently as the visitor climbed onto her bed and sat on her torso, just staring at her as she remained paralyzed. Eventually, his face came forward and he lowered his head to come nose to nose with her, just gazing into her eyes in a haunting silence as the night-filled room grew colder.

Jenevelle wanted to scream. She wanted to dive beneath the blanket and do anything other than stare helplessly at the strange man that sat atop her. His eyes that looked like little blue marbles just bored into her without emotion, and the silence that stretched was deafening.

A tingling started in Jenevelle’s arms that traveled throughout her body. She feared he meant to take her away, to drop her into the black and blue ocean that was the night sky. Whatever magic he had cast over her had ensured she would be his next prisoner. Was she being punished for her wish, for wanting him to not be real?

Finally, he spoke in a whisper; “I am watching. I am always watching. Even while you sleep.”

Jenevelle fought against the paralyzing spell. Mr. Nightfall was too heavy to throw off, and she grew exhausted quickly. Her eyes became heavy, and as much as she fought to keep the staring man in her sight, she was falling victim to his magic. Soon, everything went black.

⸸ ⸸ ⸸

Jenevelle jumped up in a sweat. With eyes finally open again, and her body free of Mr. Nightfall’s paralyzing magic, she noticed that the night sky that had invaded her room was gone. The haunting figure was no longer present either, and she sighed as she tried to calm her racing heart.

Maybe it had just been a bad dream. Still, she lay back down and pulled her blankets to her mouth, and she grasped her teddy bear. Jenevelle chewed on a white silk edge as she considered going to her parents’ room, but she wanted to be brave, too. She would be a kindergartner soon, which meant she was getting too old to cry for her mom and dad when she had a nightmare. It was already bad enough she was afraid of a lullaby, of all things.

Jenevelle settled back into bed and closed her eyes. A slight breeze drifted across her face, and she wiggled her nose as her long blonde hair tickled across it. It happened again, and she glanced over at the window as her nightlight flickered out.

It was open. Her window was never left open at night.

Jenevelle’s breath caught in her throat when she heard him whisper from somewhere in the quiet darkness.

“I come with the night. I am watching. I am always watching. Even while you sleep. So go to sleep.”