Imaginary Friend - Stephen Chbosky Page 0,218

you how much i appreciate the home you’ve given me. the body you’ve shared with me. but i need you to do something first. okay, honey?”

hE left hImself to whisper to mrs. henderson and moved to brady collins. hE turned hImself into the smell of a warm kitchen.

“brady, get up now. come into the kitchen. you’ll never be cold again.”

“I won’t?” the little boy said.

“of course not. mommy loves you. i just need you to do something for me. okay?”

hE stayed with brady collins as hE became the smell of a safe bedroom for jenny hertzog…

“do you want to drown Scott in floods?” hE asked as jenny’s mother.

…just as he became the smell of jenny’s bedroom for her stepbrother scott.

“you can have me, scott,” hE said in jenny’s voice. “i just need you to do something for me first.”

hE slithered up the giant tree to christopher’s tree house—his latest and most prized ornament. hE looked through the window at the three little boys, three little pigs, crouched behind special ed’s father’s gun, still smoking in his little hand. hE knew that christopher’s love protected these boys. that was the risk with making someone god. but still, hE was surprised by this turn of events. hE had gone to a lot of trouble to get special ed bullets. hE had turned him into a zealous little sentry to keep the tree house door open. not closed. and now, hE had a problem. but there were solutions. christopher’s protection wouldn’t last forever. those who couldn’t be turned could be tricked. it was so easy to trick boys into playing war. almost as easy as grown men. the tree house would be hiS when it really mattered. just keep whispering. and waiting. whispering and waiting.

“nice guys win wars, eddie. listen to grandma.”

“they’re going to kill your brother, matt.”

“you have to protect the avengers, mike.”

hE left hImself outside of the tree house and slithered back down the ladder.

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hE crawled around the rest of the clearing, leaving impressions of hImself like little wisps of clouds. whispering to each person as hE did to mary katherine as she drove her car straight into christopher. whispering to mrs. henderson to underline the book. whispering to christopher as he slept on the tree for 6 days. stroking his hair. always smiling. always calm. always gentle. touching people’s arms. that little itch. people think it’s dry skin. it’s not. it’S mE. hE was the taste of alcohol on ms. lasko’s lips that was so pure that she wept when hE took the drunk feeling away from her. hE was the ecstasy for debbie dunham that she always felt before the shame and loneliness returned. hE was the thought racing through doug’s mind.

she cheated on you, doug. she’s a whore and she cheated on you.

do you want a virgin? you can have a virgin, doug.

you know what you have to do. you know where you have to go.

hE was the promise of 72 virgins and the hAhA on the 73rd night.

no more vIrgIns. just 72 unhappy wIves and time. it’s tiMe.

hE was their memories and dreams and secret desires and thoughts.

as hE had been for centuries.

but it was different with christopher.

it was better with christopher.

at first, hE didn’t recognize it. that’s how long it had been. but after a few seconds, it was unmistakable. hE could smell again. it wasn’t the memory of smell. it was an actual smell. pine needles fresh and wet as sex. hE hadn’t felt this alive in decades. not since david olson. david could have taken him out of this place. but hE had made mistakes and david slipped through hiS fingers like sand. so hE had to search for the next child. not search land. but search time. watching the real world through the glass. waiting. whispering. how long had hE waited for this one. decadeS the way that children wait for the school bus. and the bus finally came. to tHis day. to tHis boy.

the nice man walked back through the clearing. hE could feel the wet grass on hIs feet. the cold snow crunching. it was glorious. hE passed the billy goat bridge. the man who buried the prostitute in the hollow log screamed as the deer ate his face. again. “please! make it stop! i’m sorry.”

hE walked out of the woods.

hE looked across the landscape. lit by the blue moon. hE walked across the slick field to the street hE created to burn her. the street warmed hIs cold feet like

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