Crenshaw

by Katherine Applegate

Sometimes when we’re walking dogs, we’ll trade nature facts. Yesterday she told me that a bat can eat 1,200 mosquitoes in an hour.

For a five-year-old, that girl can really sweat.

I asked what were her keepsakes and my dad’s. She said probably their guitars would be at the top of the list, and maybe books, because those were always important.

My sister’s favorite book in the world is The House on East 88th Street. It’s about a crocodile named Lyle who lives with a family. Lyle likes to hang out in the bathtub and walk the dog.

“Music is magic,” said my mom. “Love is magic,” said my dad. “Rabbits in a hat are magic,” said Robin. “I would put Krispy Kreme doughnuts in the magic category,” said my dad.

But my parents were optimists. They looked at half a glass of water and figured it was half full, not half empty.

The pool water was always warm. Mom said it was from the sun, but I suspected illegal peeing.

“You do realize we can’t live in the minivan again,” my mom said. “No,” said my dad. “We can’t.” “Aretha’s a lot bigger. She’d take up the whole middle seat.” “Plus she farts a lot.”

I am talking to my imaginary friend. I invented him when I was seven. He is here in our bathtub. He has a bubble beard.

my dad snores, like a motorboat with engine problems.

Only Aretha was in a good mood. She loves pancakes.

There are good rats and bad rats, I told him. I said white rats like the ones my teacher had, Harry and Hermione, were very clean animals.

In any case, Crenshaw had excellent timing. He came into my life just when I needed him to.

Her feet were dream-twitching. I wondered if she was dreaming about Crenshaw. She’d certainly seemed to like him.

Scientists love to disagree about things.

Human children are infinitely more complicated than kittens.”

Robin came in. She had Spot, her pillow, and her Lyle book. I looked at her. I looked at my note. I crumpled it up and tossed it aside. We read Lyle together until we both fell asleep.

The garage apartment was tiny, with only one bedroom. There was no TV, and the carpeting was a weary beige. Still. It had a roof and a door and a family who needed it.

The article I read about imaginary friends said they often appear during times of stress. It said that as kids mature, they tend to outgrow their pretend world.

He said imaginary friends never leave. He said they were on call. Just waiting, in case they were needed.