The Friend

Loss of innocence and imagination as told through the perspective of an imaginary friend.

Here I am, standing on the grass and watching his car become a blur in the summer heat. He was gone now. I was alone.

*

I met Danny when he was just seven years old, which is a little late in years for children to be asking for something like me. It didn’t matter though, he needed a friend.

I was born in late August; a warm evening decorated by an orange skyline. I won’t forget those colors or the humid air, it was a perfect birth. 

I was formed exactly to his wish: “I wish I had a friend who was nice to me and would be my friend forever.” I didn’t appear in a puff of smoke or in a musical number or anything dramatic like that, Danny closed his eyes and instantly I was just there. The first memory I have is of Danny crying; not a great memory to look back on, but without me he probably wouldn’t have stopped crying.

“Wh-who are you?” He asked, his nose dripping and his hands moist from the tears.

“I’m you friend.” He looked spooked as if I jumped out of his closet and shouted BOO!

“Friend? D-Do you have a name?”

I smiled. “What would you like to call me?”

“Uh,” I was worried he would pick something painfully simple like John or a crude, childish name like Buttface or FattyHead.

“I like the name Tham, from that Dr. Theuss book.”

I paused. “Tham? Theuss?” I had no clue what he was talking about. I assumed he was speaking with some strange accent from another country; I had no knowledge of speech disorders at the time. I laugh when I think about my reaction to the boy’s th-sounds.

“Tham? Like ham with a T?”

He chuckled, it was nice to see him smile. “No! Tham, from Green Eggth and Ham.”

“OH! Sam, like Sam-I-Am?”

“Duh!” He laughed at my ignorance but I let him enjoy the moment. I think I remember laughing too.

            The events that led up to my birth are not pleasant. Danny told me everything that happened and why he wished me for that night. Danny had bully troubles. Even into high school, he couldn’t get the bigger kids to stop picking on him. In elementary school, it was mostly because of his lisp. Those th-sounds are just ammo for playground bullies.

“They’re so mean,” he told me.

“You’re a great kid.”

“You think?”

“I do.”

The day after I appeared in Danny’s life started out a little better. He woke up in a pleasant mood, I sat with him at breakfast, and we even watched some cartoons before he left.

I stood with him at the bus stop outside his house, “Are you ready?”

He smiled, “I am!”

“I’ll see you after school, right?”
“Yes, of course!” The bus pulled up to the curb and Danny got on it. I returned to the house and anxiously awaited the return of my new best friend.

            Throughout the day, I happened to listen to a conversation between Danny’s parents�"okay, I was eavesdropping, but at the time I was very immature.

His mother sat in the kitchen reading the newspaper, “Danny left for school in a good mood.” Her dark curls wavered as she turned each page.

His father sat smoking a cigarette, “I saw him smiling when he left. You give’em something?”
She scoffed, “No. I did not.”

I sat around and waited in Danny’s room, it felt like an eternity before I saw the big gold bus pull up to the curve.  I sprinted to the top of the stairs and waited for him to come through the door smiling, happy, bouncing on his toes.

He ran in crying, covering his left eye.

“Mom!” He howled, his mother immediately rushed to his aide from the living room.

“What-what, Danny, what’s wrong?” She got down to meet his eye level.

I couldn’t believe he was crying. He seemed so happy when he left like he had just won the world’s biggest cookie.

He revealed his eye; a swollen purple bruise. I wanted to hurt whoever gave him that black eye, they were going to have a very bad day if I saw them.

“Ohmygod, Danny. Who did this to you!?” She almost sounded as livid as I felt.

“That thupid Carl Dancliffe.” Whoever this stupid Carl Dancliffe was, I was gonna find him and beat him up. No one does this to Danny!

“Dontchu worry, honey. I’ll take care of this.” She kissed Danny on his cheek and returned to the living room where I heard her dial the phone. Danny ran straight up the stairs, past me, and to his room. He slammed the door shut as he sat in there silently.

“D-Danny,” I was scared of saying anything that might make things worse.
No response.

“Danny, it’s me. Sam. Are you okay?”

No response.

“Danny?” I pressed up against the door, hoping to at least hear some acknowledgement.

He stayed quiet and locked in his room until his mother came upstairs. She knocked on the door. I was sure she wasn’t going to get in before I did.

“What?” I was shocked to hear him respond.

“Danny, open up.”
I heard his feet plop down and walk to the door. He peeked out through just an inch of space. His eyes were still red and puffy.

“What do you want?”

“Danny,” she crouched down, “I talked to your school counselor. She’s gonna make things right with you and that Carl boy.”

“No!” He screamed. “Thatth just gonna make thingth worse now, heth gonna know that I told you.” The door was slammed again.

“Danny. I’m sorry, I didn’t know what else to do.” She sighed and returned downstairs. I stood against the wall sad and confused. How was I supposed to help him?! What could I have done?
I tried again.
“Danny?”
I heard the feet plopping and the stomps to the door. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

He peeked again. “No.”

“Can I come in?”

He paused and wiped his eyes. “Thure.”

*

            I spent the rest of the night talking to Danny. He told me all about the Carl kid and his years of picking on Danny.
“Haha, you can’t even talk right, you stupid kid!” Carl would say. The insults only got more juvenile as time passed.

I couldn’t believe someone would make fun of Danny, he was the nicest kid and such a good friend.

“Don’t listen to him, Danny.” We sat on his bed together, the faint glows of cartoons rising and falling from the television across the room.

“What do ya mean?”
“You are nice, friendly, and the coolest kid I know. That Carl kid is a big fat head!”

“He ith.” He chuckled.

“You gotta stand up to that bully. He’s just a jerk.” I imitated swatting the kid, Danny seemed to get a kick out of it.

“I will. Thay. . .” He smiled at me. “Do you wanna come to thchool with me tomorrow?”

I lit up. He asked me to go school with him!
“Of course! I would love to.”

“We can both beat up Carl and it’ll be great.” He swung a playful punch at the air.          

“Yeah, we’ll show him!” I assumed Danny was joking.

*

The next morning Danny woke up in a burst of excitement. I met him on the stairs and we went down to breakfast together, it made me happy to see him smile again.

We sat down at the kitchen table. His dad was frying eggs in a skillet and glancing at the paper while his mom was pouring drinks, they both looked happy too.

“Morning, Danny,” his dad said.
“Morning, Dad!” Danny impatiently waited for his breakfast, he kicked his legs and slapped his hands on the table. I watched him and laughed, what a funny kid he was.

“How are you feeling this morning, Danny?” His mom asked, setting the table.

“I feel great. Whenth breakfath?”
His mom smiled, it looked like an awkward sorta-happy sorta-confused smile. I think she was grateful he wasn’t crying anymore.

“In a moment, honey, in a moment.”

The eggs slid from the skillet onto Danny’s plate, he inhaled the smell and smiled. As he started tearing apart his yolk, he looked at me.

“Mom, you didn’t give a plate to Tham!” He yelled like she had just lost his favorite toy. I was flattered for him thinking of me but I didn’t expect a plate. I knew his parents wouldn’t understand.

“What do you mean?” She asked, counting the three of them with her eyes.

“For Tham!” His head nodded in my direction. To them, I was just the chair he was referring to, nothing more than empty space.

“Who?” His dad asked.
“My friend, Tham.” I was embarrassed, I knew they couldn’t see me.

His mother whispered something to his father, I couldn’t tell what it was, but after their hushed exchange they both smiled at Danny.

“Well, this friend of yours, I’m sure he’s nice.” Her tone sounded too pleased, and now that I think about it, I think she was patronizing him.

Danny finished breakfast and got ready for school. We sat by the front door and waited for that yellow bus to come from the corner of the neighborhood. His mother made sure his lunch was packed and his father waved goodbye from the kitchen while smoking another cigarette. The moon was fading away as the sun crept over the horizon; I was surprised that such little kids had to be up so early.

“Are you ready, Danny?” I asked him, ignorantly excited for the day.

“We’re gonna have loth of fun!” He peeked out the front door and there was the bus headed to our house. He hollered goodbye to his parents and we ran to the sidewalk past the freshly-cut lawn and dying shrubbery.

            I had never been on a bus before; I had never even been out of the house before. I stepped onto the metal stairs, past the sunken driver with a toothpick dangling from his lips, and saw all of the children. Short children, tall children, large children, children with high voices, children with sticky shirts, and SpongeBob lunch pails; there were children of every variety. I couldn’t believe so many people could look so different from each other! Each of those kids had at least one distinguishing mark on their bodies, a little girl in the first seat had pigtails and freckles, a boy behind her had a missing front tooth and a scar on his neck. I wondered what he had gotten into to cause it. I wouldn’t have traded Danny for anything in the world, but for a second, I wondered what it was like being with those other kids.

Danny sat in a seat in the back, right underneath the fire alarm, and he motioned for me to sit with him.

“This is crazy,” I gazed at the children and their various hair styles and colors. There was even a girl with pink streaks in her hair like the color of cotton candy, I was amazed!

“What?” What. What did he mean what? Wasn’t he as dazed as I was?

“All these kids.”

The bus must have hit something in the road, I bounced off my seat! Danny later explained that it was something called a “pothole.”

“What do you mean? You’ve never theen this many kidth?”

“Never!”

“Pfft,” he scoffed, “wait until you see the school.”

*

            The school was big. Bigger than any building I had ever seen, granted, I had only lived inside Danny’s house, but it still looked huge at the time. So many doors, why would you have needed so many doors!? Lots of windows. Really long walls made of bricks. And the kids�"so many kids. There were at least twenty other buses with just as many kids on them as Danny’s!
“Danny!”

“What?” He picked up his bookbag and I followed him off the bus.

“There’s so many kids!” I was wowed by a little girl with sneakers that lit up when she walked.

“I know,” he sounded bitter, I wondered why.

            He took me into the building and I followed him to his “home room” he called it. Surprising me yet again, it was a smaller room with dozens of kids and an adult standing at a chalkboard. The room was decorated with, what I assumed to be, the kids’ artwork and projects. One wall was decorated with handprint turkeys while another showed a chart with the words “accelerated readers” on it and a bunch of names, including Danny’s. I didn’t know what it meant but I brushed it off as some art project.

Danny sat down at his seat and I thumped down on the floor next to him. Several other desks, each with their own sleepy-eyed, pale child, surrounded us. I felt like I was in a jungle; out of place in a world not of my own.

“Hey, Danny,” I heard a voice from behind me, I had never seen this child before.

“What.” He frowned, I was confused.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered. He ignored me.

“Say something funny, come on.” The boy was much taller than Danny with an uneven haircut and a face dotted with freckles. His t-shirt had a yellow stain right on the collar, I could only hope it was mustard.

“Thut up, Carl!”

This was the boy. This was the kid that made Danny cry. Carl; what a stupid name!

“Danny, Carl” called an adult voice, “no arguing today.” The teacher, a woman about the same age as Danny’s own mom, stood at her desk rustling papers. Was she not going to do anything about that boy!?

“Danny,” I whispered again, “are you okay?” He gave me a glance and then looked away.

I looked back at the tall boy; he was giggling with his friend, another tall kid with square glasses and a greasy-looking mop of black hair. I didn’t like them.

            After they did their pledge of allegiance to the American flag and then spent thirty minutes on their times tables, Danny got to go to the library. I had never been to an actual library before, only to the bookshelf in the living room at Danny’s house. The school’s library was much bigger and had a large window on the ceiling, I later was told that it was called a “sky light.” Beneath the “sky light” was the desk of the librarian, a curly haired woman with thick glasses and even thicker wrinkles on her face. She even smelled like old books.

“What are you gonna read?” I asked Danny.
“I don’t know, maybe Captain Underpants,” he looked happier then like he was glad to be out of the homeroom, away from the bullies. He smiled and his eyes retained their gloss.

“There’s so many books, I can’t imagine what they’re all about.” Shelves lined with books; mystery novels, adventure stories, comic books, any sort of genre you could imagine! I wanted to sit and read them all; too bad I wasn’t human.

            Danny picked out a Nancy Drew book, which is apparently a story about a detective girl.

“Sounds like a good choice,” I said, watching him browse the rest of the mystery books. They looked untouched, dusty even.

“I haven’t read this one yet,” he flipped through the rest of the books. I heard a chuckle from somewhere close by.

Danny took the book to the librarian’s desk where she checked it out for him; an interesting process. (It involves a red laser thing!) He approached me at the doors.
“We still have time before library time is over.” He said, proudly holding his rented book.
I heard another chuckle, this time louder. Who was laughing, I wondered.

“I’m gonna uthe the bathroom real quick, I’ll be back.” Danny, with his book, sauntered to the bathroom. It was after he was gone that I saw the fleeting glimpse of a freckly-faced kid hiding behind bookshelves.

*

            After library time was gym class. I followed Danny to the gymnasium; a large open room with even more skylights! He, and a few dozen other kids, played a game of dodgeball. Danny laughed and looked like he enjoyed himself, even if he got smacked with a few dodgeballs. I even chuckled at his recklessness.

Once that was over, it was lunch time and then recess. Lunch was dull, I sat by a window while Danny ate with some of his friends and talked about Star Wars. He occasionally looked at me and I waved, but he didn’t acknowledge it, I just figured he was busy.

            Recess was outside, in the sun! It was the kids’ favorite part of the day, they all jumped around and talked really loud to each other when they all lined up for the doors. They were like animals when the doors sprung open; they all dashed to different stations around the playground. A group of kids went to the basketball court, three kids ran to the monkey bars, and most of the kids snatched up the swing sets. Danny paced around under an oak tree.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I don’t know where to go, my friends went to play basketball.” He played with his fingers and stared at the ground like he was embarrassed by his shyness.

“Well�"go play with them?” I suggested.

“Carl ith playing.”

I understood.

“Remember what I said? About him being stupid and dumb! You’re so much cooler than him.”
We both smiled.

“I am.”

“You are.”

*

            Danny approached the boys and girls on the basketball court. A few boys, and one athletic girl, played together while a few other kids stood and watched. Danny paused for a second and stared up at the sky. The sun was veiled by layers of hazy clouds and the scent of rain loomed in the atmosphere.
Danny stepped forward. “Excuth me,” he said, raising his hand.

He was ignored and the game continued.

“Excuth me.” He said again.

Nothing.

“Excuth me!” He hollered. They stopped and stared at him like he was a circus freak; confused and disgusted.

“What do you want, stupid?” Carl asked, his freckles cloaked by the darkness of the dim skies.

“I want to play.” He sounded brave, I was proud.

“Get your own court,” the mop-headed kid said, his voice especially squeaky between syllables.

“I want to play on thith one�"with you guyth.” Danny stomped, he sounded angry that time.

“Well too bad, lispy. Go away.” Carl dribbled the ball, ready to resume the game.

“Danny,” I whispered, “don’t let them do that.” I gave him an encouraging look hoping he wouldn’t back down. All he had to do was show them he wasn’t a kid to mess with!

“Carl Dancliffe you’re a jerk!” He shouted. The other kids gasped. The ball dropped and dribbled away onto the grass.

“Danny?” I was worried he’d taken his assertive attitude a little too far.

“What’d you say, lispy? Why don’t you go talk to yourself in the library again?” Carl approached him and practically towered over Danny like a refrigerator. If only I could’ve stepped in and helped!

“I hate you! I’ve been taking your bullying for yearth now!” Danny shouted. The whole playground felt silent.

“Shut up,” Carl snapped.  
“Danny,” I said, “stop!”
He lunged at Carl and pushed him to the ground. A fist to the face and a kick to the groin was all the time it took before the supervisors grabbed Danny and took him inside. Carl laid on the ground, holding himself, with a bloody nose. The other kids stood around, jaws dropped, and no one was quite sure what to say or how to respond to what they just saw. And neither did I.

*

            His mother was furious. She picked him right after the fight and lectured him all the way home. How could you do that? What went through your head? She didn’t stop for the whole twenty-plus minutes it took to get back home. Danny was silent the whole ride say for a few groans and sighs here and there. Once we were all back at the house, Danny rushed up to his room and his mother grabbed the phone, presumably to call her husband. I stood by and listened.

“Mike, its Angie. Yeah, he’s fine just a little scratched up. Yeah. Yep. Suspended�"two days. It’s not a lot but it’s a lot to me, Mike! Yeah. Sure. See you after work.”

Suspended. I didn’t know that part. She slammed the phone back down and stormed off to the bathroom. I hurried up to Danny’s room.

“Danny?” I stood outside his door and called out to him.

“Danny, its Sam. Are you okay?” I asked that question for a few hours more. He never let me in the rest of that night. When his dad got home, they sat in his room for at least an hour and talked.

I saw glimpses of Danny between doors shutting and opening, tear stricken and mopey. I didn’t know what to do or how to help. It was my advice that caused him to get into that fight. I sat around on the second floor and waited�"waited for him to call me into his room. He stayed mad at me during his suspension. He moped around at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. His room was quiet and sullen. The days were slow and the mood was somber.

 The day he was able to go back to school he finally spoke to me. It was the morning of and he was standing by the door waiting for the bus. I stood on the stairs and waved to him, trying to hide my awkward embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” he muttered, “I still like you.” I bounced.
He saw the bus, gasped, and ran out the door. It wasn’t until after I walked back up the stairs that I noticed he didn’t ask me to go with him.

*

            Things seemed to settle down at school. Danny didn’t come back with any wounds or marks and he seemed to be in a good mood when he returned each day. We started talking again, he told me not to feel bad for giving him advice, and he knew I was trying to be nice. I still felt bad for getting him into trouble; his parents weren’t too happy with the situation. He got a long lecture from them about “what’s right and wrong,” and “how to stand up for yourself in better ways.” I listen in from the stairs but could only hear sprinkles of their conversation. When Danny was at school one Wednesday, I heard his mom talking to his dad about how that stupid Carl Dancliffe had been suspended for a few days too. Justice, right?

            A few months passed and Danny and I were the best of friends again. He even lost his lisp as winter passed! He was incredibly happy about that.

“It’s gone! I can talk normal now!” He was excited for school that day.

I started going back to school with Danny, but he really only talked to me when he needed me like when none of his friends were around for lunch or he was alone during library time. I understood why; he didn’t want to look like a weirdo kid with his imaginary friend. I did my best to stay out of his way.  We still spent plenty of time together after school racing cars, coloring, and watching cartoons. It was good to see him smile.

Winter, which felt like it lasted a whole year, eventually passed. Spring was starting to show through the freshly green grass and blossomed gardens. The sun seemed like a faded memory until I saw it again in April. Danny and I sat at the kitchen table as we waited for the bus.

“Mom, can I have a friend over this weekend?”

What? A friend? I was confused.

“A friend?” His mother seemed equally surprised.
“Yeah, my friend Alex.”
“How long have you and Alex been friends?” She asked.

“A month or two. I can’t remember.”

I never heard him mention anyone named Alex before.

“Well, sure.” She shared a smile with Danny’s dad. I needed to know more about this kid!

“It’s almost time for the bus, son.” His dad lit a cigarette.

            We waited outside the front door, the world was bright again after the long winter. I would’ve loved to have stopped and admire the budding flowers or the woman walking her Dalmatian across the street but Danny had a new friend and I needed to know who he was.

“So who’s this Alex kid?” I asked.

Danny kicked a pebble down the driveway. “I sit with him at lunch all the time.”

“Is he nice?”

“Yeah, we play dominos a lot.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

*

            I paid attention at lunch that day. Alex was the kid who always sat across from Danny and they usually swapped their desserts; Danny’s pudding for Alex’s cupcakes. I heard Danny mention to Alex that it was okay for him to come to the house over the weekend, and they high-fived each other and scared down their desserts before recess.

I was glad Danny had a friend now.

            Friday I didn’t go to school with Danny. He said that he didn’t me because he was going to see Alex a lot and they were riding the bus home together. I understood; it would have been pointless for me to go and be an awkward third wheel always tapping Danny’s shoulder wanting to talk.

I sat around the house and waited for the hours to pass. I listened in on a conversation between Danny’s parents in the living room a few minutes before Danny’s bus was due to arrive.

“He’s a bringing a friend home, this is exciting.” His dad said puffing a cigarette and working on his computer.

“It’s about time,” his mom remarked, “Boys his age should be out running around with other boys his age. He spends so much time in his room with that imaginary friend of his its unhealthy.”

Unhealthy? How was it unhealthy?! I was just being a friend.

His dad coughed into a napkin. “Hopefully this friend lasts.”

            I saw the bus pull up and the two boys joyfully get off. They were laughing and running through the front yard. I had never seen him that happy.

Danny burst the front door, “Mom, we’re here!”

His mother welcome them as she tied her hair into a ponytail. “Hello, you must be Alex.”
“Hi, Danny’s mom.” Alex’s voice was deeper than Danny’s and his body was much wider.

“We’re gonna go up to my room,” Danny said, and they stormed up the stairs.

His dad peeked up from the computer. “I hope we have enough food for that boy,” he chuckled.

*

            Alex visited a lot over the next few months and I hardly went to school with Danny anymore. Danny even went over to Alex’s house in the country-side a few different weekends. I was lonely on those weekends but I sat up in Danny’s room quietly and stared out the bay window into the horizon of suburban homes. I wondered, briefly, what it was like being someone else’s friend.

            April came and went, I was used to weekends without Danny and hardly talked to him during the week. We exchanged a few words, some greetings and goodbyes, and somedays he’d say: “See ya later” as he went to school. He had a friend now, I didn’t need to be there for him constantly. I understood perfectly.

In May, things changed. Alex announced that he was moving to Florida. I certainly didn’t hear it from Danny, I heard it through a conversation between his parents. One day he came home mopey and silent and slumped up the stairs to his room without taking his eyes off the carpet. I wondered what was wrong but I knew I wouldn’t get it out of him. Later that night, at dinner without Danny present, I heard the conversation.

“I talked to Alex’s parents today. They’re moving to Florida.” His mom said eating a piece of garlic bread.

“Really?” His dad twirled spaghetti on a fork.
“Yep. That’s why Danny’s been up in his room all night.”

“Oh yeah, he seemed different today. I’m so used to him being all smiles now.”

“I hope he’ll be okay.”

            The weeks leading up to Alex’s moving were no different. Danny was quieter, still hardly spoke to me, and sat in front of the television when he got home each day. I tried to approach him one evening.

“Danny, are you okay?” I asked.

No response.
“I-I know your friend is moving and that’s really sad.”
“Yeah.” He sighed.
“I’m still here for you if you need me. I’ll always be here, you know. Just like you wished.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He flipped between two channels.

“Okay.” I returned to the bay window in Danny’s room. It was a place I could think and still remember why I was brought about in the first place.

            Alex and his family left immediately after the school year ended, I heard. Danny’s summer wasn’t off to a particularly great start. For the first few weeks he sat on the couch and in front of the television. I tried to cheer him up but nothing ever worked. I tried to explain that everything would be okay and there was no need to be so sad, he’d see Alex again . . . maybe. There was no way to put a positive spin on the whole situation.

            Late June and Danny was still broken up. He was a little more active, he played on the swing set out back, and didn’t sit in front of the television as much, but I could tell he still missed his friend. I saw him in his room one morning playing with a little blue car on the carpet.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Alex gave it to me before he left.” He was trying to speak as little as possible and with the least amount of effort.

“You have that to remember him by, isn’t that good?”

“I guess.” He guided the car around the lacey designs in the carpet.
“You can call him, can’t you?” I suggested, thinking I was finally getting somewhere.
“Yeah, maybe.” He smirked.

“It’s not completely the end of the world, right?”

“No. He was just my first real friend.”

“I understand.”

*

            Summer was gone in an instant. Danny and I played together in the backyard digging holes and running in the mud. By the time August came around Danny hardly even talked about Alex and would look at you with a brow raised if you mentioned his name in passing.

“Who? Oh! Alex, yeah.”        

Everything was normal again.

The cycle of gaining friends, losing them over the summer, and forgetting about them until school started again continued for the rest of his elementary school years. He entered sixth grade a few years later and I was amazed at how fast he grew. His hair was as long as his face, he had braces, and his eyes were diminishing and needed glasses before they got worse. He was taller too�"gained a few inches over a Christmas break, I think.
Danny and I hardly spoke but he still knew I was there for him. I could tell a part of him still thought about me�"still missed me. He visited friends a lot, studied sometimes up in his room, and mostly sat on the phone talking to people. I didn’t understand that. Why talk to people on a phone when I was right there? The boy confused me a lot.

I sat at the bay window most of the time. The world beyond the glass continued moving, but I sat inside and waited for Danny to come home every day like a pet. Was that all I was? A pet? Danny hit high school three years later and then I knew for sure my position in his life: a memory.

*

Ninth grade Danny was tall, skinny, and draped in black. His hair was short again, his glasses were blue rimmed, and he still had braces. That’s all I could tell you about Danny at that time in his life.

His bedroom no longer looked like a child’s toy room. He hung up posters of bands with their names in big, red fonts, his bed sheets were no longer Spider-Man but were just white-like-paper blank. A television replaced the toy box, a laptop laid dead on the floor, and dust clustered under the bed and in the corners of the room. My world felt darker, smaller. I hardly sat in front of the bay window out of fear of being overexposed to Danny’s maturity. I knew he was growing up�"I couldn’t stop that. I missed the crying, feisty boy I met.

            On a dry September day, Danny brought home a girl. He never brought home a girl before. I wondered if she was a friend I never met before.

            “Danny, who’s this?” His dad, now gray and still smoking like a burning building, met them at the front door.

“This is Liz.” His voice had gotten deep and he almost sounded like his dad. I got a chill when he spoke.

“Hey, Deb, Danny brought a girl home.” His mother, now slower in speech and movement with bright brown (obviously dyed) hair looked as shocked as I did.

“Well, nice to meetcha. I’m Deborah, Danny’s mom.” She shook Liz’s hand.

Liz was shorter than Danny and looked like his opposite. Danny was dressed in dark jeans with a black hoodie covering his Green Day shirt. Liz, however, wore a bright, Easter blue dress and had long, straightened blonde hair.

“Hi, nice to meet you both,” she said.

“We’re gonna go upstairs.” Danny led her up the stairs and to his room. The turning of the lock was faintly heard below.

“Well he finally got a girlfriend,” his dad remarked.

            Danny and Liz were together for over a year before they broke up. I wasn’t sure why�"and I certainly wasn’t going to ask Danny. He came home crying, defensive, and ignorant of his parents’ warmth.
“Danny it’s really okay,” his mom tried to comfort him outside the bedroom door. “Girls come and go all the time, it’s a part of growing up.”

“Leave me alone!” He shouted, his voice flaring with a depressed rage.

I didn’t bother speaking to him. He didn’t even look at me anymore�"it was like he was blind to me. I hoped the best for him. I knew he’d get better.

*

            Not long after Liz came and went another girl was at the house. Her name was Diana. She was tall, loud, and made Danny smile. She dressed just like him in hoodies, tee shirts, and dark pants.

I saw Diana and Danny sit outside together on an April evening. They sat together on the concrete driveway staring up into the purple sky. I may have eavesdropped.

“You start thinking about college?” She asked. Her voice was smoky and her eyes were a dismal green. I didn’t understand what it was he liked about her.

“Sorta,” Danny responded. He gazed at her when she wasn’t looking.

“Thinking about majoring in anything particular?”

“I don’t know.”  His chest rose and fell in a quick pattern and his limbs were twitchy. I wondered if he was nervous.

“You okay?” She asked, twirling a piece of grass on her finger.

“I-I uh,” he stopped and kissed her.

Their kiss lasted about ten seconds. When they finally caught their breath, they looked at each other in amazement. I could tell he didn’t regret what he did, I was glad to see him ignorantly happy. She smiled at him and then kissed him back. It went on for a while so I stepped away from the bay window.

            Danny dated Diana even longer than he dated Liz. He was a senior in high school and they were still together. I don’t want to sound like I knew a lot about Danny’s life, in fact, I hardly knew anything more than his parents did. He was out a lot (he got his license at seventeen), he went to school, and worked during the summer. It was a rare occasion when I saw him for more than a few hours at the house.

As I realized the irrelevance of my presence in the house, I considered going away. Fading back to nonexistence and ridding myself of the agony of watching my best friend live on without me. He had a life, friends, a job, he didn’t need me there thriving on the memories only I remembered. I sat at the bay window for years and watched the world turn. It would still turn without me. Danny would keep on living.

I didn’t do anything drastic though. I had a feeling, somewhere in me, that he still cared about me--us. I’d be needed again. Someday.

*

            Another year gone. Danny was eighteen and ready to leave for college. His parents, exhausted and aged, grew quiet and sullen. Danny got accepted to a state school miles away and was leaving soon to move in. I didn’t know much about college but I knew he’d be learning, making relationships, making new memories.

His mother and father packed up most of his clothes, and Danny cleared out his computer, put away his posters, and emptied the room of each of his belongings. Each day the room got a little emptier. Danny was home the whole weekend before he had to leave, I was surprised to see him for more than a period of two or three hours.

He and his parents sat at dinner for the last time.

“You excited, honey?” His mom slapped spaghetti noodles onto Danny’s plate with her shaking hands. Her hands shook a lot for some reason.

“Definitely.” His eyes glowed when he mentioned school. I stood in the corner of the kitchen and listened in.

“Remember, if you’re gonna get drunk, do it off campus.” His dad joked, still smoking and hacking up mucus.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Danny chuckled. His hair was short and kempt. He grew out of his dark hoodie phase and started wearing brighter colors with jeans. I was proud to see him so taken care of.

“There’s still some boxes left in your room; things from elementary school, I think.” His mom twirled noodles on her fork.

“I’ll check them out.” The dinner was quiet as they all sat there and slurped noodles.

            After dinner, Danny returned to his room. All that’s left was the bed, two cardboard boxes, and the curtains. The room felt large, wild, and unexplored when Danny was younger. Now it was gray and barren.

I peeked at him from the hallway as he opened up the two boxes.
“No way,” he sounded surprised like he had just stumbled on gold.

His mother was coming up the stairs when she heard him.

“What’s all in there?” She asked.

“Look at all this: drawings, toys. I thought this was all gone?” He rummaged through it fast.

“I would never throw out your childhood stuff! What kind of a mother would I be?” She laughed.

“What’s this?” He picked up a folded and torn drawing from the box.
“A drawing it looks like.”

It was us.

“Sam?” He tried to make out my name. “I think?”
“Who was Sam?” His mom had no clue. I was standing there in the hall waiting for him to remember me. Come on, Danny! Remember, Sam? Your friend!

“I have no idea.”  He placed the picture back in the box and threw it in the hall.

*

            He didn’t remember me. He had no idea who I was. How could he have done that to me? I was there for him when no one else was! I was his friend!

I sat in the empty bedroom all night wondering what I did wrong, surrounded by the same walls and floors that I first saw when I appeared.

 Was I not a good friend to him? Was I a bad influence and he decided to just drop me? I looked out the bay window and watched night turn into day. I knew, that day was the day I’d leave.

            Danny was also leaving. He got up early and packed everything into his car. I didn’t care anymore. I was going to be gone soon. I decided to wait until he left and then disappear.

His parents were wishing him well at the front door.
“Good luck, my boy.” His dad hugged him, the smoky smell of his clothes was in the air.

“Bring Diana around soon, okay?” His mom also hugged him.

“I will, mom.” Danny smiled at them and grabbed his car keys from his pocket.

Goodbye, Danny.

“Oh, mom, I remembered.” He stopped. “Sam? That was my imaginary friend.”
I was shocked.

“That’s right!” His mom slapped herself on the forehead. “How could I forget him?”

“Ha, I miss him, I wonder whatever happened to him.”

“You grew up.” His dad said.

He said his goodbyes and walked to his car. I ran downstairs, past his parents, and to the front yard. Danny started his car and pulled out of the driveway waving goodbye to his parents. They waved back, blew kisses, and watched him disappear into the city.

*

I’m standing in the hot front yard as I remember all of this. I’m wondering how Danny will do in college. He’ll make friends, I know it. He has a wonderful girlfriend. He’s a wonderful boy.

It was time for me to leave. Danny just left and I was standing alone in the yard like a fool. I look up at the bay window and wonder how many years I spent looking out it thinking about how life could be different somewhere else.  I wish Danny my best. We’ll see each other again, maybe in some weird alternate universe where I existed in the first place.

An August wind shakes the trees and shrubs. With the passing of a neighbor’s car and the call of a bird, I vanish.

Reviews

[Diane]

That was awesome. I love the person telling the story didn't really exist. I have to say that it had me hooked and took the time to read it a second time. I got to experience a young boy growing into a man. Made me stop and reflect on things i went through as a child.

[Salem Gray]

Thank you very much for your review! I'm glad my story was able to resonate with you. :)