IMAGINARY FRIENDS - Page 47

Jeff pressed on.

“Ohhhhh, I got you guys GOOD! You actually thought that I – I can’t believe you guys! You really – I mean – Mother, come onnnn, the rat was one thing, but this? Elise?”

Off in the kitchen, the phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” everyone said at once, but Davey was the first to act. He was already out the living room door before any of the adults were on their feet.

“Boy, you guys are gullible. You guys…I can’t believe you fell for it! You are so, so gulli – ”

Underneath the table, there was a resounding BUUUUUURRRRP!

“THAT’S IT, YOU LITTLE TWIT, COME HERE!” Jeff shouted, and dove beneath the table.

The little kid may have been chubby, but he was fast.

His eyes bulged as Jeff flew towards him, but then he darted out of the way, just inches ahead of Jeff’s grasping hands. In a flash, he was out from under the table and into the open.

“DO YOU SEE HIM?” Jeff howled. “DO YOU SEE HIM NOW?!”

Jeff clattered through the knives and sugar shaker and creamer tin and flower centerpiece, emerging between Grandmother and Grandfather Tanner’s chairs. Jeff would have appreciated the look on their faces, had he not been concentrating solely on one thing.

The chubby kid was only a few feet away, and running for his life.

Jeff dashed after him. “COME BACK HERE YOU BRAT! COME BACK HERE!”

The chubby kid was already through the dining room / kitchen door. Jeff bolted through it, shouting, “COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!”

The kid was maybe five feet in front of Jeff, his chubby little legs pumping like mad.

What Jeff didn’t see was the Bubble Baby lying on the kitchen linoleum.

So he had no idea what was happening when one foot hit the plush toy, and the rest of his body went airborne.

POP! Out flew the Bubble Baby –

WHAM! Jeff’s back slammed into the floor.

Jeff lay there, the breath knocked out of him, trying to gasp for breath, not feeling it come at all. He was panicking, he was hurt, but still he had the presence of mind to crane his neck up and look past his feet.

The chubby kid was already out of the kitchen…into the hallway…and out of sight.

Jeff let his head fall back with a thud on the linoleum. Defeated. Despairing. Dying. Then air came back into his lungs with a WHOOSH, and he gasped like a fish on dry land.

As he lay there panting, Davey walked up with the cordless phone.

“What’s wrong, Dad?”

“Daddy’s seeing things, sport.”

Davey looked excited. “That’s good!”

“I don’t think so…my college days are probably just catching up with me, that’s all.”

Davey was not to be deterred. “Maybe you’re seeing my imaginary friends!”

“If that’s the case…that’s bad. That’s unquestionably bad.”

Davey frowned and handed Jeff the phone. “It’s for you,” he said, then padded off back to the dining room.

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Copyright © 2008 Darren Pillsbury. All rights reserved.

IMAGINARY FRIENDS - Page 46

“DO YOU SEE HIM? HUH? DO YOU SEE HIM?!”

Jeff waited anxiously for the screaming to begin, the sounds that would confirm that yes, he had been right, and yes, he wasn’t crazy…

But the screaming never started. Just silence as the seven heads v-e-e-e-e-ry slowly reemerged from beneath the table, all with concerned looks on their faces. Even Brian and Davey.

Elise tried to look at him kindly…but she didn’t do too good a job of hiding her nervousness.

“Jeff…there’s nothing there.”

Jeff stared at her in horror.

“Dammit, he disappeared again!” and he jerked his head back under the table.

There sat the chubby kid, merrily licking eggs and bacon grease from his fat little fingers.

“NO, HE’S STILL HERE!” Jeff shouted. “LOOK, LOOK, QUICK QUICK LOOK!”

Nobody’s head was reappearing underneath the table, though.

Jeff pulled his own head back out. Everyone was staring at him.

“LOOK – FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, LOOK!” he yelled at them.

They all sat there frozen, unsure of what was going on. The only sure thing was that they were definitely not looking under that table again.

Jeff peeked under the table.

The chubby little kid waved at him before shoving his mouth full of pancakes.

“DAMMIT, THERE HE IS! LOOK AT HIM!” Jeff commanded.

Grandmother Tanner’s steeliness served her well when everyone else was too shocked to talk.

“Jeffrey, stop this right now!” she demanded.

“But…but he’s right there…right under the table…” Jeff said forlornly. “If you’d just look…”

The chubby little kid just sat there snorting with glee as he continued to stuff his face.

Jeff looked down at him, then up at the fearful eyes around him. Davey and Brian were open-mouthed; Elise was ashen with fear; Granny Jobson looked very concerned. Nana just looked perplexed (as always). Grandmother and Grandfather Tanner seemed more embarrassed than alarmed that their son was having a nervous breakdown.

Jeff didn’t really doubt his own sanity. Well, he did and he didn’t…because he was still convinced there was a kid under that table. What didn’t make sense was how it got there, and how no one else could see it, but Jeff was positive there was a chubby little kid on the floor who had stolen the flower centerpiece.

But everyone else thought he was crazy.

Maybe it was his mother’s influence, but Jeff was bothered more by everyone else’s opinion than by the question of whether that opinion might be right.

Jeff dropped the tablecloth, and made himself laugh. “…ha…ha…”

It was hollow and fake, so he stopped, then tried again. “Ha ha ha ha…” A bit more natural. “Hahahahaha…you thought I really thought I saw a fat little kid under the table stealing our food? You believed me?”

The group looked at each other warily. The very faintest of smiles began to pop up here and there, although it was impossible to tell if they were Oh…it was a joke smiles or if they were of the Oh God he’s starting again variety.

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Copyright © 2008 Darren Pillsbury. All rights reserved.