Imaginary Friend - Stephen Chbosky Page 0,145

can’t help us if she catches you. Run!”

He opened his bedroom window and threw the white plastic bag out. The wind took it like a kite. There were half a dozen deer milling about the backyard. They stopped nibbling on evergreens to start chasing the bag into the woods. There was a thud downstairs.

“She’s at the front door, Mom!”

Christopher’s mother held her son in her arms and rushed downstairs. She fished out her car keys and opened the door to the garage. The house dropped ten degrees. She ran into the garage and unlocked the car. She sat Christopher in the front seat.

“She’s in the house!”

Pebbles hit the garage door as the wind picked up outside.

She threw the suitcases next to the emergency road kit and the Giant Eagle groceries that she’d never unpacked. She came back to the driver’s side and climbed in. She hit the garage door opener.

“Mom, she’s in the garage!”

Christopher’s mother turned but saw nothing. She looked over at him. His eyes started to droop.

“Mom, I feel so…sleepy.”

“No!” she barked. “Stay awake. You hear me? Stay awake until we are far away from this place!”

She flipped the key. The gears ground. The car wouldn’t start. She tried again. The ignition caught, and the car roared to life. The garage door opened. Christopher’s mother threw the car into reverse, then turned back to look through the rear windshield.

That’s when she saw the old woman from the log cabin.

“Where are you taking him?!” she screamed.

The old woman rushed at the car. She tried to open Christopher’s door. Christopher’s mother hit the automatic locks.

“Where is my husband? We swam in the Ohio River together. He was such a beautiful boy!”

The old woman put her hands on Christopher’s window. Christopher’s mother hit the gas and tore back through the driveway. The old woman’s daughter left the log cabin and ran to the driver’s-side window, chasing the car like a dog. Christopher’s mother hit the gas and raced down the street. Jenny Hertzog ran out of her house.

“Stop coming in my room! I’ll drown you in Floods!” Jenny screamed.

Christopher’s mother gunned the car past David Olson’s old house on the corner. Jill was outside with her husband, Clark. They had moved the crib from the upstairs bedroom to the porch. Clark held Jill while she sobbed furiously.

“We asked you for a baby! Where is our baby?!” she shrieked.

Christopher’s mother raced out of the neighborhood. Away from the madness. Away from the Mission Street Woods. She looked down at the gas gauge. It was near empty. She knew that if the grocery store was picked clean, the gas station wouldn’t be far behind. She looked over at Christopher sitting in the front seat. His eyes were shutting.

“No, honey! She wants you to sleep! Fight her!”

She rolled down the windows. The air was freezing. It made her knuckles ache, but it did the trick. Christopher opened his eyes. They passed the gas station near the elementary school, but the line ran all the way down Route 19. Angry customers honked their horns and shouted at each other. She had to find something off the beaten path. She remembered there were two gas stations next to Kings Restaurant on McMurray Road. Only locals would know they were there. She turned off near the high school and headed straight for them. One of them was closed. One of them was practically empty.

It was a miracle.

Christopher’s mother pulled into the gas station. She got out of the car and went to the pump. She swiped her card. Declined. She took out the Visa. Declined. American Express. Declined. She cracked open the fake aerosol can and pulled out five twenties. She raced inside the Mobile Mart. There was a teenage boy on the phone.

“Where’s the party?” he asked his friend. “Is Debbie Dunham there yet?”

Christopher’s mother grabbed a case of Coke and the last gallon of water. She threw the cash down on the counter.

“Pump seven,” she said. “And I’d like a gas can.”

The teenage kid flipped on the pump and gave her the last red gallon can. Just as she rushed out of the Mobile Mart, she heard the boy laugh into the phone.

“That girl is such a slut.”

Christopher’s mother rushed back to the car and gave her son one of the cans of Coke.

“Drink it, honey. It’ll help you stay awake.”

He cracked open the can and drank. She started pumping the gas. She quickly pulled out her phone. Call the sheriff and warn him. Call

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