Cover: (v) to place something over or upon, as for protection, concealment, or warmth.
“I’ll be fine.”
This is what I said to my hostess when she asked me if I might need a blanket. In that moment, I felt that I might be bothering her too much by requesting one—and the room seemed to be a really good temperature and I thought I could lay on the bed without the need of any kind of cover.
After all, I was just going to sleep. How much do you really need to protect you when you’re just heading for Sleeper Land?
She gave me a quizzical look when I refused additional “warmage,” as if to question my judgment on the matter, but wanting to be an ideal lady of the house, she honored my wishes, left the room and disappeared into her home, which was an unknown castle to me.
I brushed my teeth, I went to bed, and as I reached over to turn off the lamp on the nearby stand, I realized that I didn’t have a cover.
It was my fault. I had explained that I didn’t need one—but now that I was in my room and darkness was falling around me, I wanted a cover.
I nearly cried.
I didn’t know the house well enough to creep around looking in cabinets, searching for blankets, so I lay on the bed, very still, trying to convince myself that I would be content without being embraced by my cover.
I do not want to be overly dramatic…
Yes, I do. It was hell.
I found I could not sleep without having something over me. I felt naked, even though I was wearing pajamas. My shoulders were hanging out there to be seen by the night spirits, without apology. My legs were lonely.
I did not know what to do. I wanted to sleep but that didn’t seem covered.
So I got up, opened up my suitcase, began to pull out all my clothing, and tied pant legs onto shirt arms, with attached socks, until I eventually put together a really weird quilt.
It worked so well that after experimenting on four or five different combinations, I had everything covered, from my toes up to my chest.
I felt powerful again.
Yet as I lay down to go to sleep, I realized the top of my chest was unsheltered. Not wanting to get up to disrupt my makeshift blanket, I reached down into my suitcase, grabbed a pair of underwear and stuffed them under my chin.
Thank God Almighty.
Covered at last.