Like the jungle residents who wear masks on the back of their heads, so as to never appear unaware, Rob always wore his giant tiki mask to bed.
“Shall we take him away?” strange voices would question, each night.
“No no, see? His eyes are open again. He is too restless. It is too risky. Next time, perhaps. Next time he will be calmly asleep.”
In the mornings, Rob would jitter, restless and baggy-eyed.
“Sleep well?” we would ask, with our best, most-innocent smiles.
We never confessed.