While the fathers are having fun on their vacation, Ezra and the twins are having a sleepless night of their own. Gabe is having a hard time adjusting to his first night without his parents and Ezra comes up with a unique way to help him fall asleep.

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Ezra frowned, tapping his fingers on his thigh as he held the phone to his ear. The longer it rang, it more clear it became likely that no answer was coming. Leaning against a wall with a weary sigh, the lion glanced up to the couch, where Gabe far back on the middle cushion, drinking from his sippy cup. He wore blue pajamas with airplanes on them and seemed ready for bed if not for the wide-open stare he gave the television that Ezra had turned on to keep him momentarily occupied.
Suddenly, the ringing stopped. Ezra froze, standing up straight. There was a low sound on the other end of the call, followed by Marcus’s voice.

“Hi. You’ve reached Marcus Blackhare. I can’t answer the phone right now, so leave a message or send me a text. Peace.”
After the beep, Ezra leaned back against the wall, running his fingers through his hair. “Hey Marcus! It’s me. Uh…nothing’s wrong, we’re all okay over here but I’m having some trouble…uh…Olive’s in bed but I can’t get Gabe to go to sleep. It’s about…” He paused to look at his phone screen. “God, it’s almost one in the morning. I know you’re probably out cold or partying, but if you get a chance, call me back and let me know what you guys usually do to help him.” Ending the call, he set his phone face-down on the nearby counter, then flipped it face-up just in case he got a call back.

After their trip to the pool, Olive and Gabe had both fallen asleep almost immediately upon returning home. Gabe had managed to tuck himself into bed of his own accord while Olive simply passed out at the landing of the stairs and had to be carried up to her room. Ezra had learned through osmosis that you weren’t supposed to let young kids nap in the afternoon so that they would sleep through the night, but they were out cold before he even knew it.
Olive woke first, dragging herself down the stairs half-wrapped in a blanket with a bleary look in her eyes. It was the first time all day she seemed to slow down. Ezra had to remind himself she’d been up since sunrise. He had to remind himself that he’d been up since then, as well. There was a kind of tension in his brain that told him that, while he wasn’t tired now, he would be soon enough. Gabe had simply appeared downstairs a little after his sister, looking a good deal more awake and alert than she did. At the time, Ezra had thought this was a good thing.

For dinner, after checking the expiration dates on all the veggies, the lion whipped up his favorite stir-fry from whatever was left in the house, his favorite last-minute recipe to keep in his back pocket. It was a big hit with the twins, with Olive having a hard time keeping her mouth closed while she ate. Gabe, as usual, said nothing, but cleaned his plate in a matter of minutes. When Ezra asked him if he’d liked it – not really expecting a response – the little rabbit’s eyes met his for a split second and he nodded with enthusiasm. Ezra grinned like he’d just won the lottery.
Like that morning, he’d planned some nighttime activities to entertain the twins. It wasn’t fair to let their fathers go on vacation without letting them have a little fun themselves. But they surprised him when Olive mumbled after dinner that she was going back to bed. Still wrapped in her blanket robe, she took her brother by the hand and the two of them plodded back upstairs, leaving Ezra a little off-kilter. After cleaning the dishes, he found himself alone in the Blackhare house, wide-awake and listless. Maybe he should’ve planned some activities for himself, as well.

Eventually he started to settle down for the night. Putting on a soothing, lo-fi playlist on the living room television, he migrated his work laptop and books to the couch and wrapped himself in a nearby quilt. He intended to fire off a few work emails, get some irons on the fire while he had the chance, but barely got through typing the first paragraph before something stopped him. A sound, very faint, tickling the edges of his hearing. Ezra paused the music and listened again, but heard nothing. Just as he picked up the remote to turn the music back on, he heard it again. A soft, distant moan coming from the twins’ room.
Throwing aside the laptop and kicking off the quilt, Ezra leapt off the couch and climbed the stairs two at a time, screeching to a halt outside the door. The room was dimly lit in purple from the night-light between the two beds. Olive was lying flat on her back, arms spread-eagle like a starfish with her sheets kicked to the foot of the bed. She was still fast-asleep. Ezra thought the same thing of Gabe when he saw him curled up under his blanket, but his shoulders soon jerked with another quiet sob. When the little rabbit rolled over to face the door, the dark fur beneath his eyes was soaked with tears.

“Hey. Hey, bud. Big guy.” Ezra put on his softest, lowest voice as he knelt next to the bed. Gabe’s eyes flicked open, wet and gleaming the dark. Hesitating for a moment, the lion put a gentle hand on his shoulder and stroked his arm with his thumb. The contrast between Ezra’s broad, long-fingered paw and Gabe’s small, fragile body was drastic. “You okay? What’s wrong?”
For an answer, the rabbit rubbed tears out of his eyes with both fists. He met Ezra’s gaze once again, then began to cry in earnest, with open-mouth sobs and a trickle of snot leaking from one nostril. Olive began to stir, making a low sound in her throat. In a panic, Ezra dreaded the thought of having to manage a crying Gabe and an over-tired Olive, so he scooped the crying child in his arms and carried him out of the room, gently patting his back and making soothing sounds.

Ezra tried to coax some kind of explanation out of Gabe, but he just shook his head at every question, unable or unwilling to answer. Clutching tight to his chest the quilt that Ezra had left on the couch, Gabe cried unending tears into it, soaking a wet spot into the corner. Desperate, Ezra scrambled for the remote and opened the YouTube app on the television, navigating to the kids section and clicking on random videos that looked soothing. Contrary to their appearance, most of the videos began with blaring music, shouting voices, and loud sound effects that made Gabe clutch his ears to his head and cry even harder. Eventually, Ezra stumbled upon a channel of child-friendly documentaries about the ocean and put on a video about an octopus hosted by a soft-spoken man with a British accent. Gabe eventually stopped crying, only sniffling quietly to himself as he stared at the roiling tentacles of the animal. Ezra breathed a deep sigh.

Leaving the video on, Ezra stepped away to call Marcus. After leaving the initial voice message, he tried a few more times, sent a text with a quick summary of what happened, and even sent him an email with the same text, pleading for advice on what to do. All of it went unanswered. He couldn’t blame them; it was late and the three fathers were likely too busy enjoying their vacation to get to the phone. Ezra had accepted the responsibility of watching the kids and it was up to him to resolve this issue.
If Gabe couldn’t talk to him about what was wrong, Ezra would simply have to puzzle out what was happening on his own. The routine that he was used to with his fathers had been suddenly interrupted by their absence. He might simply have the same insomnia that Marcus was often struck with and was frustrated in his own childish way that he couldn’t sleep. The question then became whether to remedy this by soothing Gabe or to tire him out even further with play?

Going back to the couch, moved his laptop and sat beside Gabe, watching him closely. Ezra followed his gaze to the screen and furrowed his brow when he found that it wasn’t playing the nature documentary he’d put on a few minutes ago, but an off-putting video featuring 3D models of popular superheros and a heavily pregnant Disney princess driving an ambulance.
“What in the hell…” He said under his breath. “Did you put this on?”
Gabe shook his head and continued watching. Fearing this kind of content would do more harm than any childhood trauma, Ezra was quick to turn it off. In the nighttime quiet, Gabe pulled the quilt closer around himself and began lightly chewing on the corner of it, squeezing the fabric between his little fists. It was becoming clear that this wasn’t simple insomnia.

“Oh!” Ezra gasped, recalling something off-handed Marcus had said the day before. Whenever Gabe had trouble sleeping, they would play music for him, usually some of Marcus’s own. He recalled meetings during the rabbit’s pregnancy where he’d stuck a wireless earbud into his own bellybutton to play his newest tracks to the unborn twins. “Hey bud, want me to put on some music for you to help you fall asleep?”
Gabe didn’t seem particularly excited with the idea, but neither did he seem against it. Ezra waited for him to finish his drink, then took him by the hand and walked him back upstairs, allowing him to drag the quilt behind him. Olive remained fast asleep, having rolled over to face the wall. Ezra set Gabe back in his own bed and opened a little drawer built into the frame. On top of a pile of socks was a pair of soft children’s headphones that were built to go around the ears of a rabbit. Gabe stopped grinding his teeth and was quick to put them on, appearing at least a little more at-ease. Plugging the headphones into his phone, Ezra scrolled through the extensive playlists he had saved on there. No one knew Marcus’s music library better than him, so it only took him a few minutes to compile a looping playlist of soothing, low-tempo songs composed by Gabe’s father.

Ezra set his phone down and pressed play, then sat cross-legged on the floor beside the bed and put his head in his hands as he watched Gabe. At first, this seemed to do the trick. The rabbit relaxed his tight grip on the quilt and the tension in his shoulders began to release. While he stared off into space, he began to lightly bob his head in rhythm with the song ‘Heart In the Hand’ from Marcus’s best-seller, VZNS.
Just as Ezra began to relax himself, however, he noticed something off about Gabe. He began to breathe more heavily, his once again tightening. He didn’t start crying again, not right away, but he made the low whine-moan in the back of his throat that he made when he was distressed. He sat up straight and began looking around, as if searching for something. It wasn’t until Ezra glanced at his phone and saw the image of Marcus on the VZNS album art that he understood. It wasn’t insomnia; Gabe was having an anxiety attack because he missed his dad.

“Oh, man. This is just makin’ it worse, isn’t it?” Ezra unplugged the headphones from his phone and put it back in his pocket. “Sorry, bud. Your daddy isn’t here right now. He’s on a trip and he’ll be back in…a few days…” He frowned. Even as he explained it, he knew it wasn’t going to help. For a young child that wanted his father, a few days may as well have been years away. Olive had been distracted enough to not really think about their fathers’ absence, but it seemed that it had suddenly hit Gabe that, for the first time in his entire life, they weren’t there for him.

Ezra reached for his phone and started to call Marcus again, but realized it would likely be futile. He tried Nick and Eddie’s numbers and received no answer. It only confirmed what he already knew: he was on his own with this one. For a moment, he lingered on that thought. If this was his problem to solve, why had he spent the last few hours frantically calling for help? Maybe it was time to try it his way.
This was far from his first rodeo when it came to anxiety attacks, both for himself and others. Musicians were creative types and creative types tended to be prone to these sort of meltdowns. If people knew how many famous, award-winning artists he’d personally had to sit with underneath a blanket, talking them down from a metaphorical ledge (and sometimes even non-metaphorical), they would never look at them the same way again. Gabe was an autistic child, and Ezra may not have known much about either of those conditions, but he could work with what he knew.

Marcus had said something offhanded about Gabe’s toy piano. With Olive sleeping nearby, he didn’t want to make too much noise, but he had an idea. With a promise he’d return, Ezra got up and hurried downstairs to the guest room, fishing his iPad from the bottom of his bag. Returning, he found Gabe standing in the doorway and watching him through the crack, the tip of one ear in his mouth. He tucked him back in, then opened an app on the iPad’s screen, showing a simple interface of nine glowing squares in various colors.

“This is called a DAW, a digital audio workstation,” Ezra explained. He turned the volume low on the iPad before handing it over to Gabe. “It’s a way to make music on a computer. Your daddy uses this a lot. You can make the pads on the screen sound like different instruments and mix them together however you want.”
He reached across the bed and tapped one of the squares with his middle finger. It was programmed by default to make the sound of a kick drum, which made a low boom sound through the iPad’s tiny speaker. Gabe jumped at the noise, but seemed otherwise enthralled. Moving to another square, he tapped it with his thumb and made the sound of a snare drum – bap. At the top of the grid, he tapped the three squares in quick succession, showing they were the cymbals – tink, tac, crash.

“And if you want to do something else, just tap this.” Ezra touched an icon and the grid of squares was replaced with a small touch-screen keyboard. He danced his fingers across a few keys to demonstrate, then passed it back to Gabe. The rabbit curiously tapped at a few of the piano keys with a finger, then began using both hands, making a discordant noise that would wake someone up at any volume. Ezra quickly plugged Gabe’s headphones into the iPad and watched him tap away in silence, transfixed by the virtual instrument.

The best trick he’d learned about dealing with an anxiety was to put a wall in front of it. An attack was an out-of-control spiraling of fear and racing thoughts. Nobody can deal with those fears while in a panic, so the first step is always distraction. You have to put out the fire before you can figure out where it came from. In just a few minutes, Gabe’s fire seemed to be under control. He switched between the keyboard and drum kit programs and happily tapped away at both, making his own version of music that was safely contained behind the headphones.

Ezra sighed, putting his head down on the mattress. His own exhaustion had finally caught up with him. He took a few more minutes to make sure Gabe was alright before stepping out of the room. He showered, brushed his teeth, took his medication, and got into his sleep clothes, then returned upstairs to check on Gabe one last time.
He’d hoped to find the rabbit fast asleep on top of the iPad, but he was still wide-awake, his face bathed in the light of the device. Ezra sighed and rubbed his eyes, resolving that he couldn’t let himself fall asleep before Gabe did. He sat cross-legged beside the bed and watched with bleary eyes as Gabe tapped the virtual pads with both hands, jumping between rapidly. Watching the movement of Gabe’s hands, he began to pick up an actual rhythm instead of the chaotic noise-making he’d expected of a child. Gently, Ezra took one of the headphones from around Gabe’s ear and held it to his own to listen.

Boom-bap-boom-bap boomboom bap-bap-bap crash. Boom-bap-boom-bap boomboom tink boomboom tink-tac-crash.

He nodded his head to the beat that he hadn’t expected to find. It was chaotic, messy, but there was definitely something there – more than he had expected a four-year-old to come up with. Gabe was playing around, trying out different combinations of sounds, but always returned to the initial boom-bap-boom-bap boomboom pattern that gave the beat structure. That wasn’t taught, that came from instinct.

Slowly, without interrupting Gabe, Ezra reached out to the iPad and hit the red circle at the top of the toolbar that told the program to start recording.
It wasn’t much longer after that Gabe’s movement began to slow down. He was gradually winding down, his eyes getting heavy, and his head lolling on his shoulders. When Ezra pulled the iPad out of his hands and took away the headphones, he didn’t resist. Slowly, the rabbit sank his head down into the pillow and allowed Ezra to cover the rest of him with the quilt. His breath slowed, his shoulders relaxed, and he finally began to drift off to sleep.

“G’night, bud,” Ezra whispered. With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet and shuffled toward the door.

Over his shoulder, he heard the soft voice of a sleepy child say, “Thank you.”