Title: Red Serge Does Not a Mountie Make
This story is part of the Glimpses of Ben Series.
The darkness filled the room with dark shadows even though the clock on the dresser by the curtained window read 6 A.M. A dark-haired figure gently laid out a complete Royal Canadian Mounties' Red Serge Dress Uniform and then stood back to observe all the accouterments thereof spread out over the twin bed's comforter. He smiled and undid the belt of his robe and tossed it carelessly towards the pillow.
Once he stood in the room dressed only in pristine, white boxer shorts with their neat white button closure, he grinned and drew on the plain, white-ribbed Henley before picking up the yellow-stripped blue jodhpurs and drawing them on buttoning them and sliding their suspenders over his shoulder. He adjusted the suspender length until they held the jodhpurs at an acceptable height on his body. That done, he leaned over and picked up one high-top boot and thrust his foot inside and laced it up and tied it before quickly moving on to the next boot.
He looked with pleasure down at his feet and felt his shoulder's beginning to press backwards in a military stance. He picked up the beloved Red Serge Tunic that lay by itself on the bed and began drawing it on over his Henley. His fingers worked all the gold buttons and then his hands smoothed the red material down across his chest. Wearing a much more reverent look, he picked up the brown, Sam Browne belt that was required wear and slipped easily into it and buckled it at his waist. He patted the belt with his left hand and leaned over to pick up the last item on the bed. He picked up the brown Stetson and placed it on his dark hair that needed a haircut. He glanced at the clock on the dresser that now read 6:15 A.M. and marched over to bedroom door to check his appearance in the mirror on the door back. He turned this way and that and was satisfied with his appearance.
Footsteps sounded out in the hall and a man's voice could be heard singly a sprightly tune. The doorknob turned and the door opened causing the Red Serge clad person to step back quickly to avoid being hit by the opening door.
A man of average height stuck his head inside the door and it was readily apparent that whatever words he had been about to utter were changed by what he saw in the room. His voice spluttered and he threw the door as far open as it would go throwing the light from the hallway into the room. After an audible gasp he turned and yelled out into the hallway. "Caroline, you better get down here. There's an imposter in the house." He covered his mouth to hide a smile and stood rigidly still in the doorway.
Caroline Fraser hurried down the hallway and peered into her four-year old son's room. Her eyes twinkled at the sight of the boy in boots whose tops should be below his knees but were clearly nearly at his hips worn with a Red Serge Tunic whose hem was below his knees and Stetson hat covering half the boy's face. Caroline held the laughter threatening to escape her lips in check and turned to face her husband. "I think imposters are your field. See if you can find out what happened to our son, will you dear?" She turned and fled the room before her laughter could embarrass her serious little 4 year-old son.
The little boy looked up at his father and said, "Can I go with you now, Daddy."