Wee Willie Winkie was an evil, evil character that graced my evenings through a series of Scottish bedtime nursery rhymes my sainted mother read to me throughout my childhood. Bless her.
If you’d like to further appreciate the bastard you may do so here. In my mind he was a very large (yes I know what wee means, thanks) slightly deformed young man who not only insisted on curfews but ate children who failed to abide by them.
Willie sometimes visited me when I was late to bed, and although I kept my eyes closed (as strongly suggested by the parents and my sheer terror) and pretended to sleep on the spot while he was around, he still saw through my lies and announced to all that he would eat all children in the room, unless they managed to sleepwalk into their bedrooms and fall asleep.
And sleepwalk I did.
I’ve always had an overactive imagination, and scaring myself half to death with, say, a mental image of Willie’s teeth and bubbling stomach was apparently insufficient. I had to give him a red eye.
You see there was this small, red light bulb above the bathroom door that lit up whenever the water got hot. Of course I could have closed my door and ignored it, but then not only would it have broken into a dozen slightly dimmer eyes (courtesy of the frosted glass) but I would also have blocked my only escape route when the eyes invariably materialized into that drooling bastard hiding in my closet or under my bed.
As most children do, I got over these fears before my teens. But sometimes the mind doesn’t make the right connections, and sometimes it doesn’t let go of old ones.
I had a quick gig in Saudi. And as I drove back home one night in this unfamiliar and hostile country I spotted a guy with some car trouble. He had a little flashing (red) alarm light on his car’s roof, which really didn’t help my anxiety. As I parked and walked towards his car he opened his door and stepped out, presumably to thank and greet me.
He was a rather large man, set against a flashing red background. I felt anxious, but it was only stress; I was completely over any irrational childhood fears. Completely.
‘Karlitto?’ boomed Willie Winkie.
There was a sound, something between a little girl squealing at a dying Barbie and an elephant sitting on a large pineapple. Wasn’t me. Nope.
I (just) managed to control my bladder, and the urge to suddenly sleep.
He hardly missed any of that, and bought me a nice dinner that evening in exchange for the scare. We reminisced and I dropped him off before heading home, and slept the instant I got there.
A dinner.
For my years of torment he pays for dinner.
Bastard.
I'm Karl, and I'm an acquired taste.
I've been an editor for 4 years, a writer for 5 more, and a geek ever since I wrote Pong on my first Atari. I'm married to the perfect woman and we live in the desert. 
Brilliant! ahahahaha…I now know your deepest darkest fears..well, one of ‘em..which is good. is better than nothing.
Wee Willie Winkie?? Whatever happened to Abou Kees? HE was the one who came and put all the children in his big black garbage back if we missed our bed time! (And go make peace with Santa after THAT!)
@Abir
Pumpkins?
@Chirine
I never had Abou Kees. The name conjures images of what he may look like, but my family subscribed to the Scottish variety. He sounds bigger than Willie though.
What about the Terminator’s eyes?
http://www.wired.com/images_blogs/gadgetlab/terminator_1.jpg
Very interesting, and laugh-out-loud funny at times, but I’m confused. Was there no scary man then? Only your imagination? …I’m disappointed. (Or did I get it all wrong?)
(There is a typo in the 8th paragraph from the bottom, first line: “And as I drove back home on night”….should be one, no? And further below, ““Karlitto!!” boomed Wee Willie Winkie”, you’re missing a period at the end)
Btw, having never heard of Wee Willie Winkie before, I kept wanting to read Willy Wonka (and the chocolate factory), which gives rise to a sleuth of different associations – mostly chocolate heaven!
@Antox
I find those quite charming. Warm and friendly like.
@Inna
Got ‘em, thanks.
There was a scary man. This same man would knock our door at night, and I’d be forbidden to open my eyes, lest he realize I’m not asleep. For years they pulled that one off, and although I knew the man in real life I never made the association as a child, and neglected to make it as an adult, especially since he left the country. The mood that night woke it the memories up.
it was Abou Kees and Emm R3aydeh for me
For some reason, I always had in my mind that these 2 fuckers are married … I mean, the most evil man and the most evil woman… and don’t get me started about their children …
@JK
Thank you! I’m not the only child who was brought up with Abou Kees then! Emm R3aydeh? What did she do? ya3neh Abou Kees would put us in his big black garbage bag.. what did the madame do?
@Karl
I stand with Inna and ask again: The big man you stopped to help… what happened? Turned out you knew him?
ha ha! not many people get a chance to actually meet their childhood fears, karl, much less be taken out to dinner by it/him/her/them. i didn’t have abou kees, or im r3eideh..there was a purple riz monster to make me eat mi7sheh batenjen that dyed some of the rice purple, but he was one of those fuzzy entertaining monsters.