Imaginary Friend

by Stephen Chbosky

clever!” his mother said, her fleshy arms jiggling.

“Two Moms Mike” or “Mike the Dyke” depending upon her mood, since he and Matt had two mothers and no dad.

Christopher thought it was so weird for teachers to have first names, but he went with it. Henry Henderson. So many e’s.

So many e’s.

There was a name in the front cover. Written in pencil. D. Olson

Like the little kid was walking on all fours.

It would be 11:27 if she left before the credits ended, which made her feel guilty because those people work so hard.

“I don’t like it when you put the Junior Mints in the popcorn.

The next day, she got her period. And she was so relieved, she cried.

After that last case in the Hill District, he put in for a transfer. He chose Mill Grove for the quiet.

He added three pinches of salt to cut the bitterness

She said it almost felt like the weather was trying to keep her from getting to her son.

The sheriff’s aunt, who’d raised him after his mother passed, had been something of a Bible-thumper herself.

He wondered what it would be like to be held like that instead of chastised by an aunt

about what a burden he was. He wondered what it would feel like to be loved.

“She took another one. She’ll kill us all before the end,” she said.

When the movie was over, Special Ed’s mother “absolutely insisted to Christ” that she take all four of them to TGI Fridays for dinner. Her treat.

“You know that C-U-Next-Tuesday, Mrs. Collins? Well, her husband—the notorious P.I.G.—keeps

Big Eddie had a heart almost as big as his man boobs.

“You’re ripped now, baby,” Betty said, blinded by love.

A quiet lady named Sage. And a not-so-quiet lady named Virginia. One a vegan from Connecticut. The other a carnivore from Texas. They were made for each other.

Sage and Virginia promised to swing by that week to help Kate clean. Betty promised to swing by to help her drink and watch them clean.

“Because it smells like baseball gloves.”

He told her he wanted blue with clouds. Like the sky. Or Mr. Ambrose’s eyes.

But he didn’t want them to think he was crazy. Like his dad.

At one point, Mike reached out to grab the white plastic bag and fill it with nails. “Don’t touch that,” Christopher said.

Helped the nurses with Mr. Ruskovich, who used his degenerative muscular disorder as an excuse to “accidentally” grope the women all day. “A thousand pardons,” he would say in his broken English, tipping an invisible hat.

Mrs. Keizer, also known as her demented seventy-eight-year-old mother,

Like his mom and dad. Like his wife, who said, “Don’t worry. Dead is just an asleep you don’t wake up from.”

He wouldn’t know when his eyes closed. He would simply open them and realize that God was keeping

him alive for a reason only God could say. For purpose or punishment. Or both. Then, he would turn… And see a plastic cup where his wife used to be.

After ten stores, one hot pretzel, and an iced tea, she finally found it.

And he was talking to himself. “Yes, I can hear the baby,” he whispered.

Without a word, Christopher pointed down to reveal the pee stain on his own pants. “You had a nightmare, too?” Matt asked. “Yeah. So don’t worry.”

They peeled their underwear off like bananas. The cold air hit their willies (Matt’s word), which retreated back into their bodies like scared turtles.

Fuck them all. He knew he had to start building by Christmas because the loans would come due.

Whatever anger she felt at him for lying melted as quickly as the chocolate in her purse.

“Where the hell were you, Eddie? We were worried sick,” she said. “Yeah!” Big Eddie said, checking the scores on his phone.

My boy is growing up. It’s almost like he got smarter overnight.

There was a manic quality to his intelligence now. Just like with his father.

Except that little girl with the painted nails.

but Carl’s wife was a lot scarier than the FBI.

How else could you explain the tree roots wrapped around the body like a snake?

Then, he put the pillow under his covers, grabbed his coat and gloves,

When church ended, Special Ed’s mother went out to the parking lot and lit a cigarette. She took a deep breath in and exhaled a cloud. “Jesus Christ, that was a long mass,” she said. “Doesn’t Father Tom know we all have Christmas shopping to do?” She said it without a hint of irony, which Christopher’s mother admitted made her love Betty all the more. Then, after Betty cleaned the bake sale out of snickerdoodles, she offered to take everyone out for pizza to celebrate the good news.

They may have had their religious differences, but hey…same God. Same pizza.