How Batty and Ben Traded Beds

Every evening, when the moon rose above the chimneys and the windows began to glow, a little bat named Batty fluttered across the rooftops. Batty was smaller than the other bats, with soft black fur, enormous ears, and a curiosity that never seemed to go to sleep.

He was especially curious about beds. As he flew past the houses, Batty peeked through every window he could find. He saw beds with fluffy pillows, beds with patchwork blankets, and beds surrounded by shelves of bedtime stories. "One day," he sighed, "I would love to sleep in a real bed. Just once."

But whenever he mentioned it at home, his parents always gave him the same answer. "Bats sleep hanging upside down," said Mama Bat. "That’s simply how it’s done," added Papa Bat.

So each morning, Batty wrapped his wings around himself and tried to feel comfortable as he dangled from the cave ceiling. But he still dreamed of pillows.

Batty hangs upside down between Mama Bat and Papa Bat while dreaming of a pillow.

One night, Batty noticed a boy tossing and turning behind a half-open window. The boy kicked away his blanket, punched his pillow, then crossed his arms and frowned at the ceiling. "This is so boring," he grumbled. "Every night it’s the same thing. Lie down. Close your eyes. Stay still. What a waste of a perfectly good night!"

Batty landed on the windowsill and tapped gently on the glass. Tap, tap, tap. The boy sat up. Batty waved. The boy blinked, then opened the window. "Are you a real bat?" he whispered. "Of course," said Batty. "Are you a real boy?" "Of course! My name is Ben." "I’m Batty."

Ben meets Batty for the first time at his open bedroom window beneath the moon.

Ben leaned closer. "Is it true that bats spend all night flying under the stars?" "Oh, yes," Batty replied. "But is it true that boys sleep in soft beds with pillows and blankets?" "Unfortunately," said Ben. "Fortunately," said Batty.

They stared at one another. Ben wanted Batty’s exciting night, and Batty wanted Ben’s cozy bed. Then, at exactly the same moment, they both had exactly the same idea. "What if we traded places?" It was a brilliant plan. It was also a completely ridiculous one.

Ben points toward the night sky while Batty points toward the soft bed.

Ben wrapped himself in a black rain cape. He strapped an old black umbrella to his back and spread it open like a pair of wings. Finally, he put on his darkest sunglasses. "How do I look?" he asked. Batty tilted his head. "Like a very large bat who might be expecting rain." "Perfect."

Batty’s disguise was even sillier. He wriggled into Ben’s striped pajamas, although the sleeves hung far beyond his claws. Ben pulled a long nightcap over Batty’s enormous ears, and Batty climbed beneath the heavy comforter until only the tip of his nose could be seen. "How do I look?" Batty whispered. "Exactly like me," said Ben, "if I were much smaller, much furrier, and shaped like a pear."

Ben wears an umbrella bat disguise while Batty disappears inside striped pajamas.

With one final giggle, they traded places. Ben followed Batty’s directions through the moonlit woods until he reached the bat cave. Inside, it was pitch-black. Ben could not see his own hand, let alone the bats hanging silently above his head.

"There you are, Batty," Mama Bat called from somewhere in the darkness. "Time to sleep." Ben looked up, although he could see nothing but blackness. "Right," he whispered. "Time to hang." He reached for a rocky ledge, hooked his feet over it, and immediately fell onto his head. Thump! "What was that?" asked Papa Bat. "Just practicing," Ben called.

Ben tumbles into a soft pile of leaves while the surprised bat parents watch.

He tried again, this time tying his ankles to the rock with a jump rope. The open umbrella remained strapped to his back, bumping and scraping against the cave wall as he climbed. For one glorious moment, it worked.

Then the blood rushed to his head. His sunglasses slid down his nose, although they were not much use in the pitch-black cave anyway. The umbrella slipped sideways, caught between two rocks, and spun Ben around on the jump rope. The ceiling became the floor. The floor became the wall. The wall became the ceiling. Everything tilted sideways.

Ben spins upside down on a jump rope when his umbrella catches between cave rocks.

Mama Bat sniffed the air. "Batty seems much heavier tonight," she whispered. "And why does he smell like strawberry toothpaste?" Papa Bat whispered back. "I can hear you," Ben groaned.

Meanwhile, Batty was discovering that sleeping in a bed was not quite as dreamy as he had imagined. The pillow was softer than a cloud. His little head sank so deeply into it that his enormous ears almost disappeared. The sheets smelled fresh and flowery, like the lavender bushes Batty sometimes flew over at night. "Lovely," he whispered.

But beneath the thick comforter, he grew warmer and warmer. Soon he was roasting like a chestnut. The bedroom also felt strangely silent. There were no rustling leaves, no chirping crickets, and no moths fluttering past his ears. All Batty could hear was the slow tick-tock of a clock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Batty lies wide awake and much too warm beneath Ben's thick blue comforter.

Worst of all, Batty was a bat. Nighttime was when he felt most awake. While boys closed their eyes, bats stretched their wings. While houses grew quiet, the whole moonlit world opened for Batty to explore. "How am I supposed to sleep?" he squeaked. "The night has only just begun!"

Just then, the bedroom door opened. Ben’s mother stepped inside. Batty pulled the nightcap over his face and lay as still as he could. "Good night, Ben," she whispered. Batty tried to snore like a sleeping boy, but bats do not practice snoring. "Squeak… squeak… squeeeeeak."

Ben’s mother stopped beside the bed. Batty shifted nervously, and one black wing popped out from beneath the comforter. She tucked it back in. "Huh," she murmured. "His arms seem awfully furry tonight." Batty held his breath. At last, Ben’s mother turned off the lamp and left.

Ben's mother gently tucks Batty's furry wing back beneath the blanket.

Batty pushed away the comforter and gasped for cool air. As he tried to escape from the striped pajamas, one wing became trapped inside a sleeve. He rolled across the mattress, bumped into the pillow, and tumbled onto the rug. "This," he decided, "is the most exhausting bed in the world."

Batty tumbles onto the rug while tangled in oversized striped pajamas.

In the cave, Ben had reached the very same conclusion about hanging upside down. His feet were cold. His head was dizzy. Every part of him ached. Whenever he nearly became comfortable, the umbrella scraped against the rocks and spun him around again. "That’s it," Ben whispered. "I want my boring bed back."

He untied the jump rope and hurried out of the cave. But the umbrella had opened completely behind him and was now too wide to fit through the narrow entrance. Ben pulled. The umbrella stayed. He twisted. The umbrella creaked.

Ben pulls toward the cave exit while his open umbrella remains wedged behind him.

Ben crawled forward with all his might until, with a sudden pop, he shot out of the cave and rolled down the hill. At the same moment, Batty dragged himself toward Ben’s window. One wing was still buried inside the long pajama sleeve, and the nightcap had slipped over his eyes.

The two friends finally met on the windowsill beneath the moon. Batty tried to climb outside, but his trapped wing pulled him back into the bedroom. Ben tried to climb inside, but his open umbrella became wedged in the window. "Move your wing!" Ben whispered. "I can’t find my wing!" Batty squeaked. "Close the umbrella!" "I thought you knew how!"

Ben pushed. Batty pulled. The umbrella suddenly snapped shut, Batty’s wing popped free, and both of them tumbled into the bedroom in a heap of striped pajamas, black fabric, and enormous ears. For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Ben was freezing, sore, and still a little dizzy. Batty was sweaty, ruffled, and wearing one pajama sleeve on his head.

Ben and Batty tumble into the bedroom together and laugh at their tangled disguises.

Then they began to laugh. Ben laughed so hard that his sunglasses fell off. Batty laughed so hard that his enormous ears popped out of the nightcap. "I think your bed misses you," said Batty. "And I think your cave misses you," said Ben.

They traded clothes as quickly as they could. Ben climbed into his striped pajamas, slipped beneath the comforter, and rested his head on the soft pillow. "Oh," he sighed. "Flat is wonderful." Before Batty had even reached the window, Ben was fast asleep.

Batty flew home through the cool night air. He listened happily to the chirping crickets and whispering leaves. Then he stretched his wings, hooked his feet onto his favorite place on the cave ceiling, and allowed himself to hang gently upside down. Nothing wobbled. Nothing trapped his wings. A soft breeze tickled his enormous ears. "Oh," Batty sighed. "This is the coziest feeling in the world."

Ben sleeps in his soft bed while Batty rests comfortably upside down in his cave.

From then on, Batty and Ben remained secret friends. Ben no longer called his bed boring, and Batty never again wished for a pillow of his own. But every evening, before Ben went to sleep and Batty began his moonlit flight, they looked toward the half-open window and gave each other a little wave. Ben from his warm, soft bed. Batty from the wide, starry sky. Each of them was very glad to be exactly where he belonged.