Imaginary Friend

by Stephen Chbosky

  The nice man stopped. Gravely.

  “If I tell you, you have to promise me to be humble. Because David wasn’t until it was too late.”

  “I promise, sir,” Christopher said. “What is the tree house making me?”

  The nice man offered his hand one more time. Christopher took it and saw the answer.

  Chapter 74

  It’s making me goD.

  Kate Reese stopped and looked at the childish scrawl on the paper. She couldn’t believe what she had been reading. She quickly flipped back to the previous page to make sure she was understanding this correctly before speaking out loud to Ambrose. They were in Christopher’s room. She had been there since the nurses finished turning over her son’s bed. Reading poor David’s terrified scrawl.

  June 21st

  I don’t really know where I am anymore. I don’t know what’s real or what’s imaginary, but we can’t wait any longer. The hissing lady is everywhere disguised as the flu. We have to complete the training now before she takes over the tree house. I asked the soldier why the hissing lady wanted it so much, and he explained what it is doing to me. The power that she wants for herself. It was so simple. It explained everything I was going through. I wanted to tell Ambrose what was really happening to me, but I couldn’t have him call me crazy again. So, I waited until he was asleep, and I got into bed with him. I whispered really quietly in his ear just in case the hissing lady was listening.

  “Ambrose. I have to tell you something.”

  “What?” he said asleep.

  “I have to tell you what the tree house does.”

  “Fine. Go ahead,” he said in his sleep. “What does the tree house do?”

  “It’s making me God, Ambrose. The tree house makes you God.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Ambrose said.

  Christopher’s mother stopped reading and looked at Ambrose. She couldn’t see his eyes, but the rest of his face was frozen with grief. She turned to her son, unconscious next to her. She thought of the things he knew. The things he felt. His perfect test answers. His spontaneous genius. His healing touch.

  “Keep reading, Mrs. Reese,” Ambrose said.

  Christopher’s mother thumbed the page and continued reading in a whisper.

  “Fine. You’re becoming God. Go back to sleep,” he said.

  Then, my brother fell back asleep. I kept explaining that I wasn’t becoming God all the way. I can’t create or destroy worlds or anything like that. But I know everything, and I can heal things. The soldier said if I went any further than that, my head would explode. That’s what the headaches are. It’s God pushing on my skull like a baby chick tapping on an eggshell. It felt good to say all that out loud to Ambrose. I kissed his cheek and told him I loved him. I know he was asleep and didn’t hear what I said. But it was wonderful to pretend that he listened to me and didn’t think I was crazy. I want to think that he loves me like that because I know in 3 days I am going into the woods to kill the hissing lady. And if I don’t stop her, she will shatter the glass between the two worlds. It’s all up to me.

  afTEr aLL, i AM god.

  A chill ran down her back. It felt like someone was watching them. Christopher’s mother would normally shrug off this feeling, but after reading David’s diary out loud to Ambrose, she didn’t think she would shrug off a feeling ever again. She thought that the hissing lady might be standing right there. Hovering over her unconscious son like a cat with a ball of string.

  “Are you okay?” Ambrose asked her.

  “Yes,” she said. “I just need a minute.”

  Christopher’s mother looked down at the sheets of paper where she kept her notes. If the orderlies saw them, they would definitely lock her up for forty-eight hours of psychiatric “evaluation.” Words scribbled in a hurried hand. An imaginary world filled with hissing ladies and mailbox people with mouths sewn shut and eyes closed with zippers. Her son was trapped there right now.

  June 22nd

  BefoRe we kill the hissing lady, we need tO do Some rEcon…

  It took a moment for Christopher’s mother to adjust her eyes to David’s illegible scrawl. She had never seen such disturbing handwriting. Not even from her late husband. It wasn’t the handwriting of a child who was crazy. It was the handwriting of a child who was terrified. She read ahead to decipher the message. Then, she whispered it out loud to Ambrose.

  June 22nd

  Before we kill the hissing lady, we need to do some recon like they do in those war movies Ambrose loves. The soldier is worried I am pushing myself too hard with my training. He doesn’t want my brain to give out. So, he didn’t want me to come on this mission, but I did anyway. I followed her during the daytime. I could see her reaching into people. I could see people getting sick with her flu and changing. I watched her whispering into people’s ears. Making them afraid of their own shadows. The shadow is just people without light. This place is starting to get scary. Even during the day. The town is about to go insane.

  June 23rd

  I asked the soldier what would happen to me if we failed. At first, he refused to tell me because he didn’t want me to be afraid. But I am more powerful than he is now and I threw him a thousand yards until he told me. He said I will become the hissing lady’s next pet. The final recon mission is tonight. The soldier says it’s not safe because I won’t be invisible. But I told him that Ambrose was in danger, and I am God, so I was coming. We found her hiding place. I can’t believe where it is. It was so close the whole time.

  June 24th

  The soldier was captured by the hissing lady. I made a terrible mistake. I thought I was invincible. Now, I am alone. I am so stupid. I went into the imaginary world at night, and the hissing lady used me to set a trap for him. The soldier ran to rescue me, but the mailbox people jumped on him, scratching him with their zipper eyes. I tried everything I could think of to save him. But every time I quieted my mind and got close to an answer, I felt someone hit a deer. Or beat their children. Or try to commit suicide. I should never have gone in at night like he said. Why didn’t I listen? I should have been humble. I’m so ashamed. She is torturing him right now. I can feel him screaming even on the real side. I have to go in there and try to rescue him. It’s all my fault. God, please help me. Please help me defeat her and save my big brother because…

  Christopher’s mother turned the page and looked at her son unconscious on the bed. The machines breathing for him. Eating for him. Living for him. The steady hum of the beep beep beep was the only sign of hope. She looked back at the page of David Olson’s diary. The insane drawings. The terrified scrawl. Each word convincing her Christopher’s survival and the world’s survival were one and the same. That the madness then was the madness now. She thought of the seeds being planted by the hissing lady. The words whispered. The promises made. And what would happen to all of them if those flowers suddenly bloomed.

  …the imagiNary world is

  almOst here.

  Chapter 75

  Special Ed opened his eyes just before dawn. He looked down and noticed that he had wet the bed. He had been doing that a lot lately. Then, he looked outside at the trees, and for some reason he could not understand, there was only one place he wanted to go today.

  Chuck E. Cheese’s

  It didn’t make any sense. He was only a little boy, but even he knew that for all of its merits as a video game and robot animal paradise, Chuck E. Cheese’s pizza ranked just a notch above cafeteria. And today was Christmas Eve. They always went to his grandma’s house for Christmas Eve after his other grandma died. They did it every year. But he just couldn’t get it out of his mind. He just had to get to Chuck E. Cheese’s.

  Listen to Grandma.

  He went to his father’s bedroom and tried to wake him up, but his father just growled. “It’s not even dawn, for Christ’s sake. Go back to sleep.” So, Special Ed left the room, but not before stealing his father’s cell phone from the nightstand like his grandmother told him. Special Ed the
n went to the master bedroom. His mother was asleep in the bed. She always told him she needed separate bedrooms because his father snored. Special Ed knew it was actually because his mother drank too much and his parents fought about it and she said she could stop anytime and he said “prove it” and she said “fuck you” and told him to sleep in the guest room and he said “no you’re the drunk you sleep in the guest room” and she cried and she won and so he finally did after she kept drinking from the flask in her purse that looked like a perfume bottle to make the sad in her head quiet down.

  Listen to Grandma.

  “Mom, can you take me to Chuck E. Cheese’s?” he whispered.

  She took off her cool gel sleeping mask. The one that kept her young.

  “Honey, it’s Christmas Eve. We’re going to Grandma’s house.”

  “I know. I just really want to go to Chuck E. Cheese’s.”

  “What? Baby, I’m sorry, but that’s fucking crazy. Go back to sleep.”

  “We could stop there for lunch on the way.”

  “Ask your father.”

  “I already did. He said it was okay.”

  “Okay. Fine.”

  But it wasn’t fine. When Special Ed’s father woke up, he caught Special Ed in the lie and said he was now on punishment. Especially after he got in that fight with Brady Collins at the Christmas Pageant. Enough was enough. The HBO he got in his room to celebrate Special Ed getting such a good report card was going to be turned off. No HBO for a month.

  “But Dad! You don’t understand! I have to go!” Special Ed protested.

  “Stop being crazy. Get your clothes on. We’re going to Grandma’s house.”

  They were already off to a late start because his father couldn’t find his cell phone. He asked Special Ed’s mother to call him so he could trace the sound, but she couldn’t find her phone, either. They didn’t understand that their son had taken both of their phones and buried them outside in the snow. Special Ed’s dead grandmother told him that he had to do it, or he would never get to Chuck E. Cheese’s.

  Listen to Grandma.

  The family piled into the Ford SUV with the BUY AMERICAN sticker and left for Grandma’s house. The weather had been particularly brutal overnight, and their normal route was blocked with fallen trees and a few car accidents. One of the accidents looked particularly bad. A station wagon had crashed into another car that looked vaguely like Kate Reese’s car. Betty wanted to call Kate to check on her. She reached for her cell phone.

  She forgot that she had lost it.

  Without their cell phone maps, the family had to rely on the old GPS to find an alternate route to Grandma’s house. Special Ed’s father punched in the address, and the GPS lady told them to get on Route 79. Special Ed knew that his grandma was pretending to be the GPS lady to help him, so he relaxed a little in the backseat.

  He watched his father take his usual shortcut around Bridgeville to get to 79, but this time, a deer ran across the road. When his father turned sharply to avoid the deer, he hit a bad pothole, and the two right tires blew out. Luckily, they were right next to a Sunoco station. The station attendant told them that most of his guys were out with the flu and the station had been picked clean of parts. But if they gave him a couple of hours, he could get his cousin to bring them used tires (for a small fee). So, he told the family to just grab some lunch and relax. Luckily, the Sunoco station was right next to a restaurant.

  Chuck E. Cheese’s

  Eddie, bring your backpack. You’re going to get prizes.

  When the family entered Chuck E. Cheese’s, Special Ed was so happy. The place was almost empty because today was Christmas Eve, but there was one birthday party in the corner. For identical twins. Special Ed’s mother and father gave him a twenty-dollar game card, then ordered a pizza and a pitcher of beer. Special Ed wandered through the games and robots, looking over his shoulder. Wondering why he was brought here.

  “Eddie,” the voice whispered. “Eddie, psst. It’s Grandma.”

  Special Ed turned around and saw a robot of Bad Cat, smiling at him.

  “Grandma?” he said.

  “Yes, Eddie. Listen to me very carefully,” Bad Cat whispered. “Something very bad just parked in the parking lot. I want you to be ready, okay?”

  Special Ed nodded and turned his gaze to the front of the restaurant. The door opened and a fat man walked into Chuck E. Cheese’s dressed as a birthday-party clown.

  “Stay away from him, Eddie. His wife just left him. Listen to Grandma.”

  Special Ed watched the fat clown walk over to the birthday party.

  “HI, KIDS!” the clown yelled out.

  “HI, UNCLE HAPPY!” the kids yelled back.

  The fat clown pulled out a balloon.

  “WHO WANTS TO HELP UNCLE HAPPY MAKE BALLOON ANIMALS?!”

  “ME ME ME!” the kids said.

  The clown huffed and puffed and blew into long, stretchy balloons. He blew up one. And another. And another. Then, he twisted and turned all three balloons like femur bones until he made a beautiful animal shape.

  “WHAT IS THIS, KIDS? WHAT DID UNCLE HAPPY MAKE?”

  “IT’S A DEER! IT’S A DEER!” they shrieked in delight.

  The clown pulled out a toy gun. He pointed it at the deer.

  “THAT’S RIGHT, KIDS! AND IT’S TIME TO GO DEER HUNTING!”

  He squeezed the trigger, and a long red banner shot out that read BANG! The banner hit the deer, and the balloons popped. The kids laughed and screamed.

  “WANT TO MAKE ANOTHER ONE, KIDS?!” the clown yelled.

  “YAY!” the kids screamed.

  “Okay! But I need your help this time. This is a really hard one.”

  “I want to run away,” Special Ed said.

  “You can’t, Eddie. There’s a reason you’re here.”

  Special Ed watched as the fat clown grabbed a handful of balloons and handed them out to the kids. The kids huffed and puffed like the Big Bad Wolf, blowing up the balloons.

  “OKAY, KIDS! GIVE THE BALLOONS BACK TO UNCLE HAPPY!”

  “Eddie,” Bad Cat whispered. “Hide behind the pillar. Do it now.”

  Special Ed did as he was told. He was frozen in fear as he watched the kids scramble to hand back the balloons.

  “GREAT JOB, MY LITTLE HELPERS! NOW, LET’S SEE WHAT WE CAN MAKE WHEN WE WORK AS A TEAM!”

  Uncle Happy began to twist and turn the balloons, scraping and squeaking on each other like nails on a chalkboard. He ripped those balloons into a twisted shape and held it up like a head on a pike.

  “WHAT IS IT, BOYS AND GIRLS?!”

  “IT’S A CLOWN!” they all yelled.

  “THAT’S RIGHT. WE MADE A CLOWN! AND NOW IT’S TIME TO GO CLOWN HUNTING!” the clown yelled out.

  The fat clown reached into his bag and pulled out a different gun.

  He put the gun against the balloon clown’s temple.

  The kids stopped laughing.

  “THIS CLOWN JUST LOST EVERYTHING, BOYS AND GIRLS!”

  Special Ed looked at Bad Cat. The robot said nothing. He just smiled the sickest frown upside down.

  “THIS CLOWN FUCKED UP EVERYTHING HE EVER TRIED TO DO, KIDS! SO, AUNT HAPPY RAN AWAY FROM UNCLE HAPPY! AND NOW UNCLE HAPPY ISN’T HAPPY ANYMORE!”

  The clown moved the gun from the balloon swiftly to his own temple.

  “SO, WHAT DO YOU SAY WE PUT THIS CLOWN OUT OF HIS MISERY?!”

  The parents were barely able to react in time. The bullet exploded in the gun and struck the clown’s temple. The kids screamed and turned away as the clown fell in a heap on the floor. Uncle Happy’s bag landed right at Special Ed’s feet.

  It was filled with balloons.

  And bullets.

  “Eddie, you have to do it now. No one is watching,” Bad Cat whispered.

  Special Ed instinctively bent over and grabbed as many boxes of bullets as he could. He quickly shoved them in his backpack (Hulk…pack!) as his parents fought their way to the scene. Special Ed felt real
ly lucky because when he had finally opened his dad’s gun safe, he hadn’t found any bullets. Just a lot of drugs that Big Eddie pretended he didn’t do just like Big Betty pretended she didn’t drink too much.

  “You see, Eddie,” Bad Cat said. “I told you I would get you some prizes. Now you can protect Christopher from that awful Brady Collins. Listen to Grandma.”

  Special Ed smiled at Bad Cat as the robot’s eyes suddenly went dull. Then, he zipped up his Hulk backpack with over two hundred rounds of ammunition.

  Chapter 76

  Brady,” the voice whispered. “Psst.”

  Brady Collins opened his eyes like a little bird and saw his grandmother sitting up in her hospital bed. She had been asleep ever since Christopher had touched her at the Christmas Pageant. The doctors didn’t know if she would ever wake up again.

  “Grandma?” he asked.

  “Yes, sweetie.”

  Her voice was so dry and scratchy, it made his skin itch.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better. Where is your mother?” she asked.

  “Cafeteria,” he said.

  “What about your dad?”

  “Working, probably.”

  “Good. That gives us a chance to talk alone.”

  She patted the chair next to her bed. Pat pat. Brady approached slowly and sat down.

  “Look how big you are,” she said. “I remember when you were so little, I could fit your whole head in one hand. You had no teeth, like a little old man. And look at you now. Brady, you’re so big. Let me see a muscle.”

  Brady flexed his right arm. She felt his biceps with her arthritic fingers.

  “Wow,” she whispered. “You’re so strong.”

  Brady smiled proudly. The old woman held the little boy’s hand in her bony palm. Their hands began to heat up together like a mug of hot cocoa.