(essay)

“Jeremy, I think our son has an imaginary friend.”

“How is it imaginary?” asked Tony.

He entered the kitchen at that moment. It was clear that mom didn’t want him to hear their conversation with dad.

“Imaginary means unreal. It means you made it up.”

Dad has always been straightforward.

“She’s not made up. She’s real.”

“She? A girl? Sounds cute.”

“Jeremy!”

“Hazel, it’s all right. At his age, it’s normal. I had an imaginary friend too. His name was… now, let me remember… Ah! That’s right! Gale.”

“Jeremy, he has a real friend. His name is Mike. And if Tony is worried about something, he can talk to us, not some shadow.”

“It’s not a shadow. It looks more like a puddle.”

“Especially! Jeremy, our son is talking to a puddle!”

Mom didn’t seem to notice Tony. She talked about him like he wasn’t three steps away from her. Why is she doing this? Why is she mad at Tony for being friends with Boogie? Why does she say Boogie’s not real?

Boogie and Tony spent a lot of time together now. They played war games, hide and seek (Boogie was constantly hiding in the closet, so they quickly got tired of this game), solved puzzles, and in the evening Tony fell asleep to Boogie’s stories.

“Boogie, you know so much. How?”

“I read a lot.”

“Reading…”

Boogie knew Tony hated reading, so she quickly changed the subject.

“Potato, why did your parents swear today?”

“Mom says you don’t exist.”

“Did that upset you?”

“Very, Boogie! She thinks it’s wrong. But is it wrong to have friends?”

“She’s worried that your fantasy will cross out the real world for you. The way you cross out mistakes in writing.”

“Fantasy? But you’re real!”

“For you, yes. For her, no.”

“Are you wanna say… that you’re really made up?”

Tony’s lower lip began to twitch and his voice trembled.

“Potato…”

“Back off! Imaginary things don’t talk!”

“Things? Tony, I’m your friend.”

She called him by his name for the first time. This made Tony even more hurt.

“Go away! I told you that back then. And not in the closet. But out of my house. Of my life. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Please don’t piss me off…”

“Go away! Go away! GO!”

Tony covered his face with his hands and began to sob.

He only opened when mom and dad were in the room. They heard him shout.

When he opened his eyes, Boogie wasn’t in the room. The window was open.

“Tony, what happened?”

“Boogie!”

“Did Boogie scare you?”

“No!”

“Why are you crying then?”

“We had a fight.”

When the parents left, Tony saw that there was a note on the book on his desk. The book was called, ‘The Little Prince.’

The note said, “Someday you will understand everything.” Tony looked at the book, turned it over in his hands. A soft, smoky coolness wafted from it. Like Boogie.

Tony wondered what he should understand. And he began reading…