Story by Olga Kolpakova
Translated from Russian by Laura Lond
How Bugaboo changed her mind about being scary
In one small cozy apartment there lived a big scary Bugaboo. She was so big that she would barely fit under the bed. And when someone lay down on the bed, Bugaboo would be pressed to the floor. She would sigh terribly then.
“Come out,” she was told, “go live in the bathroom, there’s more space over there.”
“I’m not so scary in the bathroom because there’s no dust there,” Bugaboo replied.
“Come on, come on,” everyone insisted. At last they dragged Bugaboo out from under the bed.
Indeed, she turned out to be rather scary: shaggy, dirty, hungry. They took her by the hands, led her out to the yard, hung her over the rail and slapped her with the rug beater a little. Bugaboo screamed horribly, but she immediately became smaller – that’s how much dust she had accumulated. After that they took Bugaboo to the bathroom and gave her a good washing, first with laundry detergent and then with baby soap. Bugaboo became even smaller, and she howled less because the soap could get into her mouth.
“Let me go back under the bed!” she whined pitifully.
“Wait another minute,” people were persuading her as they dressed her into a night gown, trimmed her nails, brushed her hair and tied it with a ribbon. Then they gave Bugaboo an apple and brought her a mirror. She looked into it and changed her mind about being scary and crawling under the bed, although now she could very well fit in there.
How Bugaboo got scared
Once Bugaboo had a scary dream. She was so frightened that she fell on the floor, hid under the bed and curled up into a ball in the farthest and darkest corner. And there she lay, trembling.
“Come out,” we called Bugaboo. “It’s not real, it’s only a dream.”
“Yeah, right, not real,” Bugaboo whispered. “It was a shaggy monster!”
“Shaggy, big deal,” we tried to comfort her. “We’re all shaggy in the morning, before we brush our hair.”
“It was dirty, too!” Bugaboo said, still scared.
“Dirty? That’s nothing special, either. You should see miners. Or children after the sandbox. That’s dirty. Come out, you little chicken!”
“And it had such teeth…”
“Like Grandma’s dentures?” we asked. “What’s scary about that? If it had no teeth, that would be far scarier. See, nothing to be afraid of. Come out!”
Suddenly a dirty, shaggy, sharp-toothed monster with shaking hands and legs crawled out from under the bed. We shrieked and hid behind each other. Only Dad had no one to hide behind. But he is the bravest. He said, his voice shaking only a little, “That – that’s truly scary. W-what a terrible dream.”
How Bugaboo almost became a greedy-guts
“Look what a big apple I’ve got,” Bugaboo bragged.
Bugaboo’s apple was very beautiful, large, with shiny red sides. A mouth-watering apple.
“That’s a good apple. But it’s not that big. A big apple is one that would be enough for everyone,” Grandma hinted.
“You have no apple, that’s why you’re saying mine isn’t that big!” Bugaboo grinned and walked away, very pleased.
“Look – an apple! It’s mine!” Bugaboo said, showing the apple to Dad. “I’m going to eat it, this yummiest apple.”
“Go ahead. Enjoy. This apple should have been eaten a long time ago. Do it before it goes bad.”
Bugaboo did not understand whether she should be happy about it or not and went to Grandpa.
“Beautiful apple,” Grandpa agreed, “I hope it’s got no worms. It had happened to me once: I was given an apple, huge and pretty, so I crawled under the bed and started crunching on it, all by myself. And the apple had a worm inside. I ate the worm in the dark. It’s all right, I just pity the worm. I suppose I should have cut that apple and share the worm-eaten half with someone. At least with the worm…”
Bugaboo thought about it, turned the apple in her hands and went to the kitchen, to Mom.
“Look what a pretty apple I’ve got. Ripe. Maybe even with a little worm inside,” Bogaboo informed her, not very cheerfully.
“Look what a huge pile of dirty dishes I’ve got. Cups, mugs, a greasy saucepan and a whole sink of water!” Mom replied.
Bugaboo blinked, put the apple next to the sink and offered, “Do you want to trade me?…”
Mom gladly agreed. When Bugaboo washed the dishes, they cut the apple into pieces and shared with everyone. The big, ripe, and not at all worm-eaten Bugaboo’s apple. And everyone was saying, “This is Bugaboo’s apple! So tasty! Thank you, Bugaboo!”
Bugaboo turned red with embarrassment. It’s so pleasant when everyone likes your apple. Too bad there was no worm in it. If there was, Bugaboo would have shared with him, too. She’s not greedy!
How Bugaboo stopped being capricious
Bugaboo started acting up since the early morning.
“I want my own little dragon! A live one!” she whined.
She was given a dragon made of playdough and another one drawn for her on a large sheet of paper, but Bugaboo kept at it.
“I want a live dragon! Don’t you understand?! I won’t drink your nasty milk if you don’t give me a live dragon!”
She whined and whined. Even neighbors started coming over, wondering whether someone was abusing an animal. Mom called Dad at work, asked him to find out where there were live dragons in town. Dad said he would most certainly find out and try to come home from work earlier. They could barely wait for him.
“Well, who wanted a dragon?” Dad asked right from the door.
“I did!” Bugaboo shouted. “I won’t eat and starve to death. You will all cry if you don’t give me a dragon.”
“Our poor Bugaboo won’t get to eat anymore,” Dad sighed.
“Why?” everyone asked in surprise.
“Because on the way home, at the monument to Gennin and Tatishchev, I met a dragon.”
“Really?!” Bugaboo rejoiced. “Give him to me, quick!”
“Yes,” Dad confirmed. “But you’ll need to go to him yourself. He sits there and roars, ‘I want a Bugaboo! Bring me a live Bugaboo, right now!’”
“What does he want a Bugaboo for?” Mom wondered; she would never ask for a Bugaboo herself. Not even if she was offered a diamond ring to go with it.
“He’s hungry,” Dad explained. “He eats everything Bugaboos eat, as well as Bugaboos themselves. And today he’s in a very capricious mood. He stands there and growls that he wants a Bugaboo very, very much, because he is tired of all that diet food.”
“What a pity,” Mom sighed. It wasn’t a very sad sigh, but she did sigh. “Well, Bugaboo, get ready, we will grant your wish and let you go to the dragon. Make sure you behave. Don’t be rude or cranky if he finds you not tasty enough. Goodbye, Bugaboo.”
But for some reason Bugaboo no longer wanted a dragon that much. Let alone a live one. Let alone such a capricious one.
“It’s late,” Bugaboo said. “Time for me to go to bed.”
And she went to bed, after drinking a large glass of milk.
How Bugaboo learned to play
Bugaboo had many different toys. Antonina the doll, Honey the bear, a gray cat Sleeper, two saucepan lids without names and a caterpillar sewn together from terrycloth socks.
“They are no fun to play with, at all!” Bugaboo said one morning and kicked the caterpillar. “I’m tired of them! I don’t want them! They’re so boring!”
“No wonder someone is boring when they’re kicked on their birthday,” Grandma said, “not to mention that there’s no cake or gifts.”
“Who’s got a birthday?” Bugaboo asked, surprised.
“The caterpillar, of course. I had made her exactly a year ago.”
Bugaboo thought about it, picked up the caterpillar and muttered, “Very well, I guess I’ll draw a cake or heart-shaped cookies for this worm with legs.”
“Of course, if you think that paper cookies are good for digestion…” Grandma smirked. “That’s one fun birthday. Poor caterpillar.”
“But I don’t know how to bake real cookies!” Bugaboo said, indignant.
“Have you tried?” Grandma asked.
Bugaboo very much wanted to try baking real cookies for the caterpillar. She put on an apron, mixed eggs, flour, some butter and sugar in a bowl (Grandma had told her the recipe). Then she rolled the dough, cut it and shaped little hearts out of it. Together with Grandma they placed the hearts in the oven. While the cookies were baking, Bugaboo sewed a new spare leg for the caterpillar, out of a piece of green fabric with white polka dots.
Just in case. What if the caterpillar got run over by a streetcar someday? Actually, Bugaboo wanted to sew a hat, but it turned out to be a leg. After that she helped the birthday girl set the table and have the guests seated: the doll, the bear, two saucepan lids, the cat and Grandma with freshly baked real cookies. Everyone wished the caterpillar a happy birthday and shook her legs. The lids played a celebratory march. Grandma said she’s very happy to see the birthday girl in her right mind and without a single hole. Bugaboo suggested giving the caterpillar a name; after all, it was not good to call her just ‘caterpillar’. Then each guest came up with a name, and the birthday girl had to pick one she liked. She picked them all.
“I am long, so I will have a long name.”
But what she liked the most was the spare leg.
“I will wear it only on special occasions,” promised Goosya-Nosya-Serafima-The-Fastmoving and invited the guests to partake of the meal. The guests sang “Karavai”1 and “Let pedestrians clumsily run”2 for the caterpillar, and all of a sudden it was evening, time to go to bed.
“There now,” Bugaboo said, getting sad, “the day is over, and I haven’t even had time to play!”
“You haven’t,” Grandma agreed. “And you won’t have time tomorrow, either. Tomorrow all the toys are going on a cruise in the bath tub.”
“But it’s full of icebergs, pirates, and sharks,” said Sleeper the cat, giving a displeased snort.
“I will fight them off with my spare leg!” shouted the brave Goosya-Nosya-Serafima-The-Fastmoving.
“Grandma! I want to go on a cruise, too!” Bugaboo exclaimed, getting all excited.
“I don’t know whether I should let you go…” Grandma gave Bugaboo a thoughtful look. “Especially since one needs to get some good sleep before such a voyage.”
Bugaboo ran to bed. And she took all the toys to bed, too, so that they wouldn’t go on a cruise in the bath tub without her.
How Bugaboo helped everyone
Bugaboo knew that Dad lived in this world to go to work. Mom lived to shop. Grandma – to cook borshch. Grandpa – to grow carrots at their summer house, in summer, and the rest of the year to look at postal stamps. But what bugaboos lived for, Bugaboo did not know. When Bugaboo lived under the bed, she used to scare everyone. Now it turned out she was of no use?
Bugaboo got upset and almost crawled back under the bed. But Grandma talked her out of it.
“Bugaboos live to help everyone. To do good things and make people happy,” she said.
So Bugaboo decided to make everyone happy.
All morning Bugaboo did only good things. First off, she tied Dad’s necktie with a sailor’s knot. A very tight one. Because Dad always said that the necktie was pure torture, the knot never came together right. Then she broke the heels off of Mom’s shoes, so that it would be easier for Mom to run all over those stores and her feet wouldn’t get tired. Grandma’s wig Bugaboo diligently painted green, because the green color became Grandma. Besides, Grandma said everything green is good for you. After that Bugaboo glued Grandpa’s collection of stamps all over the corridor: let everyone admire it whenever they want!
“Uh-oh!” said Mom, Dad, and Grandpa and quickly run off on some errands.
And grandma went to the hair salon.
Bugaboo got upset, hid under the bed and stayed there for two hours, suffering. But there was no one to scare, and it was boring to just sit around, so Bugaboo decided to do some crawling under there. Back and forth.
“Good job!” Grandma told her when she returned. “Now I don’t need to clean under the bed. And the green wig will work very well for Grandpa’s scarecrow at the summer house. We’ll have the best looking scarecrow in the area!”
And Grandma hid the light green wig into the box with gardening tools. Even without the wig she now had a very fashionable youthful haircut, ala porcupine.
Bugaboo was happy to hear that. She got out from under the bed, and she and Grandma went to wash Bugaboo’s dress together. Then they untied Dad’s necktie, took Mom’s shoes to the repair shop, and carefully unglued Grandpa’s stamps from the wall.
When Mom, Dad, and Grandpa returned, Bugaboo warned them, “I have done so many good things today, enough for a whole month. I will rest for a month now.”
Everyone was very happy to hear that. So happy as if they thought Bugaboos lived in the world only to rest.
How Bugaboo got angry
Winter that year was not right. Bugaboo waited and waited for the beautiful frost flowers to show up on the window, but they wouldn’t. So she painted flowers with watercolor. Red and green. The watercolor ran, mixed, and the drawing turned a very unattractive color. To be exact, there was no more drawing. Only a dirty puddle. Bugaboo got angry and started washing the paint off. The water cheerfully ran down the windowsill, over Bugaboo, and on the cat who was sleeping on the heating battery.
“Since you’ve already got a flood going,” Grandma said to Bugabooo, “would you water the plants as well?”
Bugaboo tilted the water bottle to the cactus and accidentally pricked on it. Bugaboo was already frowning, and now she got so mad that she shouted, “It’s all because of you! You told me to water the plants. You always order me around!” And then she added in a quiet voice, “You little old Grandma!”
“I order you around?!” Grandma got angry as well, dropped the meat she was running through the meat grinder and walked away to the living room, to grumble.
“I wonder where she learned to talk like that! From you, I suppose!” she grumbled at Dad who was sitting before the computer.
“From us?” Dad asked, indignant. “Have we ever been disrespectful to you, Vera Sergeyevna?!”
He folded his newspapers and went to his friend, Uncle Sasha3, who lived one floor above theirs. Dad was of the opinion that in such a small apartment as his there was no room to even be angry properly, and Uncle Sasha had enough space, he lived alone. So Dad spent the whole evening sitting in Uncle Sasha’s kitchen. He sat and sat there; it was already supper time, but he still wouldn’t come. Mom nearly got angry at him. She went through the apartment, looked at the angry Grandma, at the upset Bugaboo, at the indignant cat, and said, “No way. I’m not going to get angry. It’s not good for you, it ruins your complexion. There you are, all gray-faced, just like Sleeper.”
And Mom took a frying pan and started knocking it against the heating battery. She knocked for a long time, she even turned red with the effort. The cat hid in the closet from such noise. Bugaboo crawled back under the bed, and Grandma pled, “I wish you got angry, like us, instead of not being angry this way.”
At last the frying pan’s handle broke off, and everyone gathered in the kitchen, happy. Dad returned. Grandpa came from the library. He’d missed everything, he did not even know that today was such an unfortunate day, with everybody getting angry.
“I’m sorry I was not present at your event…” Grandpa said.
“Forgive me that I knocked so loud,” Mom said.
“I’m sorry I made you all wait for me,” Dad said.
“I apologize for grumbling without reason,” Grandma said.
“Forgive me, Grandma, for being rude to you,” Bugaboo said and looked at the cactus. “Well, now you go ahead and apologize to me.”
But the cactus remained silent, he did not want to make peace. Or maybe he thought, ‘Don’t wave your hands so much and you won’t get pricked.’ But Bugaboo did not understand Cactusish, so she took the cactus to Uncle Sasha.
“We don’t need such a mean prickly fellow in our nice family,” she explained. “We’ve got a small apartment, no room for him.”
In a week they forgave the cactus. How could they not? It started blooming with huge bright flowers at Uncle Sasha’s. And then the frost hit, and the long-awaited frost flowers appeared on the window.
After all, the cactus’s offence wasn’t that bad, certainly not bad enough to deny him seeing the beauty of winter.
How Bugaboo ran away from home
Bugaboo loved helping Grandma. Whether it was to drink leftover compote or finish ice cream, she was willing at any time.
“See what a useful Bugaboo I am,” she would say as she did it. “Had I not drunk the rest of compote, the saucepan wouldn’t have become available, and you wouldn’t be able to cook kisel4 in it. It’s thanks to me that everyone will drink kisel at dinner today.”
“Is that so,” Grandma would reply, shaking her head.
“For that, pour me the biggest cup,” Bugaboo went on.
“For that?” Grandma asked, amazed.
“Yeah, for helping,” Bugaboo confirmed. “Do you want me to help you do the dishes, too?”
“Well…” Grandma thought about it. “You’ll help me do the dishes, and for that – ?”
“For that you’ll buy me a new dress,” Bugaboo hurried to explain.
Then Bugaboo went to Grandpa and offered to find his eyeglasses for him, for which he was supposed to give her his bicycle.
“That’s not going to work,” Grandpa said. “I don’t need you to look for my glasses, I didn’t lose them. They’re always on the shelf.”
“Are they?” Bugaboo asked in somewhat unnatural surprise. “On the shelf, you say? Nope, they’re not there! So, shall I look for them?”
“And where are you going to look?”
“Everywhere, at first, then in my pocket,” Bugaboo tattled and quickly corrected herself, “Maybe. Maybe I’ll look there. And maybe somewhere else.”
“I can’t give you the bicycle. It’s a war trophy, I keep it as a memento. It’s a pity that my glasses are lost though. I just wanted to read this new book of scary stories aloud.”
Bugaboo loved scary books and she promptly found Grandpa’s eyeglasses in her pocket.
“Will you read to me?” she asked.
“I will,” Grandpa readily agreed. “But what will you give me for that?”
Bugaboo thought about it. She did not have that many personal possessions. She didn’t know how to do much, either.
“I won’t pour milk on your seedlings,” she offered at last.
For some reason Grandpa did not agree to such an exchange. But he gathered all his seedlings and carried them away, to Uncle Sasha’s on the next floor.
“Fine, don’t read,” Bugaboo huffed. “I’ll go to Mom and trade going to the zoo for cleaning under the bed.”
But Mom for some reason did not care to have the floor clean under the bed and said that she’d go to the zoo by herself. And Dad refused to trade his cell phone for Bugaboo’s old paper bead necklace. Bugaboo offered Dad to buy the necklace from her, but he did not agree to that, either.
“So that’s how you treat me! You’re all greedy!” Bugaboo said. “Nobody loves me! I’m leaving. And I won’t come back, I don’t care what you say!”
And she left to faraway lands… under the bed.
Bugaboo sat and sat under the bed, waited and waited for them to start luring her out. But for some reason no one came, no one offered to go to the zoo, or to have the bicycle, or any other benefits for Bugaboo to come out.
They ate lunch and then washed the dishes all together. Grandpa decided to ride his bicycle to the bookstore, to get the book titled “How to Save Plants from Attacks of Small Bugaboos.”
“Who else wants books? What kinds?” he asked. Everyone ordered. “It’s a pity that Bugaboo has left us. I would buy her a book, too.”
And Mom and Dad went to the zoo.
“Too bad Bugaboo has left,” they said. “She could have joined us. For free, we’d ask nothing in return. Would we begrudge it to her?”
The only ones who stayed home were Grandma, in the kitchen, and Bugaboo, under the bed. Grandma was baking a charlotte.
“Ah, what a pity that we no longer have Bugaboo, now I’ll have to eat the apple peels myself,” Grandma said with a sigh and went to get her dentures.
Bugaboo crawled out and started bawling. How unfortunate! She decided to run away from home at the worst possible time! Would they now take her back?
How Bugaboo became happy
Bugaboo very much disliked washing dishes. Especially when there were many dishes and she had to wash them all alone.
“We need to buy a dishwashing machine. Or to invent one,” decided Bugaboo, who only had enough savings for several servings of ice cream and not nearly enough for a dishwasher.
Having thought a little, Bugaboo loaded the dishes in the washing machine. The invention worked only halfway good: several cups lost their handles, two plates cracked, but at least the frying pan was all right, if you don’t count the burnt crust still left on it.
Bugaboo very much disliked dusting. Especially when… Well, she always disliked it.
“What’s the vacuum cleaner for? People worked hard inventing it, so it needs to be used,” Bugaboo said and vacuumed the shelves. They became very clean. No more Mom’s amber necklace, no Dad’s flash drives, no Grandma’s dentures, no Grandpa’s pension.
Bugaboo very much disliked to bathe. She couldn’t come up with anything that would allow her not to brush her teeth, wash her neck and rub herself with a towel.
“Perhaps we can try bathing you in your sleep,” Dad offered, fixing the washer: a teaspoon had gotten stuck in the draining hose.
“No, one needs to sleep in their sleep, not bathe,” Mom objected.
“Maybe we can just wash Bugaboo in the washing machine or vacuum clean her? With a wet and dry vacuum cleaner,” Grandpa suggested, pulling his pension of 3,000 rubles out of the vacuum cleaner and blowing the dust off of the three 1,000-ruble bills.
“No vacuum cleaner would handle that,” Mom disagreed again.
“I know!” Grandma came up with an idea. “We won’t make Bugaboo bathe. We won’t make her do anything at all!”
Bugaboo couldn’t believe her ears. Was it possible that there were such kind Grandmas in the world?!
“Is that true? I! Can! Do! Nothing!” Bugaboo rejoiced. “Oh, how I love you all for this!”
And the happy Bugaboo wiped the cups, dove two times into a foamy bath tub and, not even drying herself, ran to get all her savings and buy ice cream. For everyone!
How Bugaboo followed a schedule
It was the third time that Bugaboo came to the kitchen to filch something: a carrot Grandma was preparing for the borshch, a cookie from the vase, some compote from the fridge.
“You need to sit down and eat well,” Grandma said.
“I eat very well when I stand, too,” Bugaboo replied.
“You’re not eating, you are making mischief. One needs to live according to a schedule.”
Bugaboo did not know what a schedule was and she became suspicious. She was right to do so. Because all of a sudden everyone in the family remembered about the schedule and started instructing Bugaboo. A sheet of paper appeared on the wall, with the schedule written on it that Bugaboo was supposed to live by.
“Bugaboo, it’s already eight in the morning, time to get up,” Dad would say. And of course eight in the morning would happen exactly when Bugaboo wanted to sleep the most.
“Bugaboo, it’s already nine o’clock, time to exercise,” Grandpa would say. So Bugaboo had to turn off her cartoons.
“Bugaboo, time to have breakfast!” Grandma would call when Bugaboo was not hungry.
Bugaboo pouted and acted up, crawled under the bed and hid in the wardrobe. But it didn’t help.
“Bugaboo, we want to make a human being out of you!” Mom explained. “Well-bred and disciplined.”
Such words made Bugaboo sick to her stomach and she ran to the bathroom.
“I don’t want to be a human being! I want to be a Bugaboo!” she shouted from there.
“It’s bad to be a bugaboo,” Grandma reasoned with her. “Children are scared of bugaboos. Go wash your hands, it’s time to have dinner.”
Bugaboo had to accept her fate. All day she lived according to the strict schedule. And at night everyone was awakened by a strange noise.
“What is that?” Mom asked Dad.
“It appears that someone who looks like Bugaboo is jumping on the bed. And now someone is singing a song, with Bugaboo’s voice. And now…”
At that moment the light went on, and Bugaboo announced, “The day schedule is over! Now it’s time for my own night schedule. You all must immediately get up and jump on your beds. Or you will never become bugaboos! And remember! Bugaboos are good! It’s good to be a Bugaboo! It’s good to be a good Bugaboo!”
