IMAGINARY FRIENDS - Page 6

Shortly after that, Elise put fliers up around the neighborhood offering her services as a tutor. (“I miss my classes, I miss my kids,” she later told Jeff.) And when Jeff saw one of the pink photocopied pages on the grocery store bulletin board, he figured it was a godsend.

Though she was an energetic little dancer, Granny Jobson was getting on in years. Taking care of two young boys was a bit much to ask of an 81 year-old woman. Actually, Brian was no problem at all, but Davey was another matter. Taking care of him was a bit much to ask of anyone, 81 years or no.

This was compounded by the problem that he had a late birthday in November, and Jeff had decided to hold him back from entering kindergarten at four years old. Now, instead of terrorizing the public school system, he just frazzled an endless string of babysitters who tended to quit after two weeks. One didn’t even last two days.

When Jeff first met Elise and asked if she would consider a part-time job caring for Davey and Brian, she had laughed her beautiful, hearty laugh, and asked to meet the boys first – “to see if they like me well enough to stand me every day.” From that moment, Jeff knew she was the one.

To babysit his kids, of course. To babysit. Or tutor, or teach, or whatever you wanted to call it. She was the ‘one’ for that.

Davey and Brian had taken to her immediately. It was hard not to. She was simple and direct, unassuming yet witty, and she always smiled. She didn’t talk down to Davey and Brian. Instead, she treated them as equals – except when they misbehaved around her, which wasn’t often.

“Hooooo, Daddy, you don’t want to act bad around Elise,” a bug-eyed Davey had informed Jeff after the infamous “cat bowling” incident.

Her light brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail this morning, with a few wispy strands framing her rosy face. She broke out with a big smile when Jeff opened the door. If Jeff had been able to see his own face, he would have noticed a much goofier-looking version of the same grin.

“Elise!”

“Jeff – ”

That was when the two wildebeests came crashing down the hall.

“EEELLLLIIIISSSE!!!” Brian and Davey shouted as they smashed their way past Jeff and tackled Elise at the knees, nearly bowling her over.

Elise shouted and laughed, and ruffled their hair as they each clung to a leg. “Hey guys, how’s it going?”

Jeff was a little less forgiving. “DAVEY! BRIAN!”

The boys looked up at Jeff, surprised by the sharp tone of voice. Jeff was about to cut loose when he caught a glimpse of Elise’s face. She silently mouthed It’s okay - and winked at him.

Maybe it was the smile that calmed him down.

But it was definitely the wink that threw him for a loop.

“Uh…um…” he stuttered.

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IMAGINARY FRIENDS - Page 5

Luckily for Jeff, the doorbell rang.

DING-DONG.

Davey and Brian exchanged looks, rapture on their faces.

“ELISE!” they both howled at the same time, and dropped to the kitchen floor at a run. Jeff held his briefcase over his head, trying to avoid the stampede.

The boys ran into the hallway, where they slipped on the hardwood floors in their socks and banged into the wall, then into one another. Scrambling, tumbling over each other, they ran past the parlor –

Then slowly, quietly, tiptoed back to the doorway.

Inside, Granny Jobson was dancing, eyes closed, cheek-to-cheek…with nobody at all. Just her and the invisible man.

Granny Jobson may have liked dancing with invisible partners, but she still had the sixth sense possessed by all mothers, young and old: the radar that alerts them to raids in the cookie jar and plans to jump off rooftops with umbrellas. Though the boys had silently crept up to the room, she knew they were there. She opened her eyes and smiled at them. Not for a second did she break her stride, nor acknowledge that what she was doing might be grounds for a visit to the funny farm.

“Mornin’, boys.”

Brian and Davey smiled feebly at her…looked at each other…and ran away.

***

During those brief seconds of quiet, Jeff made his way to the front door, and actually got there before the boys did. His hand paused on the doorknob for an instant, and a touch of nervousness fluttered in his stomach. Jeff brushed it aside, and opened the door.

If he had been more honest with himself, and not swept his feelings under the rug so quickly, he might have recognized some excitement mixed in with the anxiety. But introspection wasn’t Jeff’s strong point.

Maybe that was for the best. If Jeff had been totally honest about why he was excited, he wouldn’t have just swept his feelings under the rug; guilt would have mandated he bury them with a pick and shovel.

The door opened, and there stood Elise. She was beautiful. Not like a model, though. No, she was the girl-next-door who moved back in years after having left home. Literally.

Jeff knew her parents from seeing them on long walks around the neighborhood. Sometimes Leland was cutting the grass on his riding lawnmower, or Ruth Ann was planting flowers in the yard. They were a nice retired couple who had moved in shortly after Davey was born. Jeff always waved when he saw them, and they waved back. He only knew their names because his wife Susan had told him. She had taken cookies to their house when they moved in, and continued to have lunch with Ruth Ann and Leland about once a month.

Jeff never actually met them, though, until they came to the funeral.

It was strange, Jeff thought, that the memorial service was the first time he had really met his neighbors. The first time he had done much more than give them a wave or a “How’re you doing.”

Unfortunately, Leland passed away a few summers later. Elise returned home the next day, and never left. She had been a schoolteacher back in the Midwest, but she took a leave of absence to take care of her mother. When the doctors told Elise that Ruth Ann was exhibiting early indications of Alzheimers, Elise quit her job and moved in permanently.

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IMAGINARY FRIENDS - Page 4

Davey was up on the counter, not two feet away. He knelt on all fours, and a long pink strand of bubblegum oozed out of his mouth.

“An’ den da momma give da baby bird da worm, and da worm all chewed up!” he babbled as the gum dangled ever closer to the countertop.

Just then, Jeff walked into the room. The shock of seeing his son reenact a Discovery Channel program (and one about the feeding habits of another species, at that) caused Jeff to stop at the kitchen doorway and watch in horror.

“An’ den da baby go ‘cheep cheep cheep!’ an’ – ”

GLOOP! The chewing gum shot back into Davey’s mouth with one liquid slurp.

“Da baby all full! Mm-mmmm, good eatin’!”

Davey looked up from the kitchen counter. He and Jeff stared at each other for a long second.

“Davey…”

“Yeah Dad?”

“That was really disgusting.”

Jeff walked over to the counter and ruffled Brian’s hair, then looked down at the drawings. Same as always: tiny little monsters. One-eyed fairy tale freakazoids. Baby dinosaurs. Strange cartoon weirdos.

Jeff sighed. Always the same thing. He looked worriedly at Brian. His son had always been withdrawn, but lately it had gotten much worse. He rarely spoke. Besides his younger brother, those drawings were Brian’s only companions.

“Daaaaaaaaad,” Davey interrupted, “I had to feed the baby breakfast!”

“Yeah, well, you almost made me lose mine.”

“All – uh – over – bruh – ”

Davey made dry heaving noises and swung around towards his brother. Tottering up on his knees, he suddenly faked the ol’ heave ho with reckless abandon, launching an air barf mere inches away from –

“BRIAN! BLAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”

Brian never looked up. Just kept on drawing.

Being ignored didn’t bother Davey one bit. He sat back on his rear end, smacked his lips, and scrunched his face up in distaste.

“Yuck. Feeding babies is nasty.”

Jeff looked up from pouring a glass of orange juice. “What baby?”

Davey looked at his father like, What, are you blind?! and gestured at the countertop.

“Petey!”

Jeff looked down where Davey was pointing. Nothing there, except some crumbs from somebody’s last snack.

“Um…Petey?” Jeff asked.

Davey’s disbelief became exasperation. “MY BIRD!”

“I don’t see a bird.”

“You have to look a little harder than that, Dad. He’s small, he’s a baby.”

Jeff had to fight to keep a straight face. “Yeah, well, I only see one baby here.”

Davey’s face registered confusion, then horror, then indignation, all in one second flat. “I’m not a – ”

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IMAGINARY FRIENDS - Page 3

“No. No more than one mess per morning. Now get.”

Jeff shooed the little boy out of the bathroom, then called after Davey as he ran off, “And you’re cleaning up this mess before I get home!”

“But I didn’t make it!”

“Then get the other little boy with your face to help.”

Davey pondered that for a second. “I could get him to do it easier if I had a dollar to give him.”

“Davey!”

“Okay, okay!”

Davey ran off into his room. Jeff just shook his head, and finally headed for the shower.

***

Out in the kitchen, sunlight warmed the countertops and music filled the air. They were songs from vinyl records – 40’s big band tunes, full of trumpets and clarinets, scratchy from a thousand previous playings. As Jeff walked down the hall, he stopped by the parlor door and poked his head in.

Granny Jobson was starting the morning right, with a little spring in her step. Eighty-one years old and a spry little twig of a woman, she backed up from the old-time phonograph and side-stepped, back-stepped, forward-step-hopped, arms out in the air around an invisible partner. Her simple blue housedress fluttered as she turned and saw Jeff.

“Good morning, Jeff!” she smiled. “Care to dance?”

“Noooo, you’ll wear me out, Granny, and it’s not even eight o’clock.”

“Come on, now. Just a little foxtrot.”

“No, I’ve got to eat breakfast – ”

“It’s not the Lindy Hop, for heaven’s sake, boy,” and without giving him time to object, Granny Jobson grabbed his hands and pulled him into the room. Jeff laughed as they circled around, let himself be turned about and even dipped (not too much, even though Granny Jobson was stronger than she looked), and then he begged off.

“I’ve got a meeting at nine, Granny.”

“Some evening, you’re going to help me fill up my dance card.”

“I promise.”

“Well, then, give us a kiss.” She offered her cheek, and Jeff gave it a little peck before walking back out into the hall. Granny went back to dancing with her unseen partner.

***

Brian Tanner sat at the countertop that divided the kitchen and the eating area, his legs dangling off a tall barstool. At eight years old, he was as quiet as Davey was loud, and as thoughtful as Davey was brash. Just like every other morning, pieces of drawing paper lay spread around him as he penciled and colored. An untouched bowl of cereal sat safely away from his drawings. He peered at his work from behind Coke-bottle-bottom glasses, and continued his artistic endeavors without a glance at his brother.

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IMAGINARY FRIENDS - Page 2

2

The morning of Christmas Eve.

It was a perfect suburban house in a perfect suburban neighborhood. The Christmas lights were joyously (but tastefully) hung from the gutters. The picket fence was white and the lawn was green, despite the cold December weather. The house was painted pale yellow, not hot pink, or teal, or any other strange colors. There were no lawn gnomes or other signs of insanity.

But as the neighbors walked their dogs and fetched their papers that morning, it was a fairly common sound they heard: a man’s voice ringing loud and clear out of his bathroom window.

“DAAAAAAAAAAAAVEEEEEEEEEY!”

***

Jeff Tanner was a fairly good-looking man. He had nice brown hair and was handsome in a suit, and once upon a time, his eyes had twinkled…though that had been a long, long time ago.

At the moment, he was standing in his bathroom, dressed only in his boxers, staring at a mound of toilet paper on the tile floor. It stood three feet high, like a mini-Kilimanjaro, folded over and onto itself in a soft powdery mound.

Just then, a face appeared around the doorframe. A five year-old’s face, with a head covered in soft yellow fuzz. The rest of his body stayed out of sight.

“Yeah?”

Jeff pointed at the toilet paper.

“Did you do that, Davey?”

Davey looked down at the pile, and his eyes got big, like he’d never seen something that cool before. He looked up at Jeff, looked away like he was thinking about it…then shook his head.

“No.”

Jeff put his hands on his hips, trying to play the stern father. He didn’t do it very well, especially not in his underwear.

“Then who did?”

Davey looked at the pile, scrunched up his face in thought, and then said very, very innocently:

“Another little boy with my face.”

Jeff sighed and rubbed his closed eyes. “All right, points for originality. Go get dressed. And remember, pants before shoes.”

“Can I fix breakfast?”

“Do you remember last month and the toaster fire?”

“I just want cereal.”

“Do you remember last week and the raisin bran incident?”

Davey protested, “But Dad, I’m older now.”

“No. No more than one mess per morning. Now get.”

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IMAGINARY FRIENDS - Page 1

1

Jeff Tanner was running for his life.

The problem was, none of the other people walking on the city streets around him knew what he was running from. Not the businessmen and women in their sharp suits, or the college students with their backpacks, or the elementary school kids on a field trip, or the homeless guys who watched with amazed, grimy faces as Jeff raced past.

Because none of those people on the street could see…them.

In his terror, Jeff allowed himself one glance over his shoulder. To see how close they were, to see if they were gaining.

He shouldn’t have done it. As soon as he looked away, his foot hit a raised crack in the cement sidewalk, and down he went on all fours.

Despite the pain of banged knees and scraped palms, he immediately flipped over on his back and stared at them rushing down the street. It was like a tidal wave – all those thousands of tiny eyes, those snarling mouths, the grasping hands – reaching for him, and him alone.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the part that wasn’t running on sheer adrenaline, Jeff swore that whenever he saw another person talking to himself in the park, or swatting at things in the subway, he wouldn’t think those people were crazy.

Unless I’m going crazy, too.

No. He couldn’t believe that, he couldn’t allow himself to think that for one second.

Even if it were true.

Just because other people can’t see them…doesn’t mean they’re not there.

He repeated that to himself over and over again as he scrambled to his feet.

If he just kept running, it would stop. It had to. It hadn’t been like this before. In fact, it had only begun a couple of days ago…

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Welcome to IMAGINARY FRIENDS!

Hello, all!

There's a long history behind IMAGINARY FRIENDS. Here's the short version:

I self-published the novel; you can see it and read reviews at Amazon.com.

I also created an online graphic novel of the comic, too. I got about a third of the way through before I came to the realization that I'd much rather write new material than illustrate 400 more pages. But I highly recommend checking it out at www.imaginaryfriendscomic.com.

But the comic was always intended as a way to publicize the book, and that didn't really get me anywhere. I had dozens of fans who said they couldn't afford the book (a bargain, by the way, at $12.95 US). So, rather than have material languish on a shelf, I thought I'd put it out there for everybody's viewing pleasure.

Please, leave comments! I'd love to hear what you think. And if you love the story, consider getting a copy from Amazon - or from me! I'll be offering autographed books in the coming month or so.

Happy reading!

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