Sam grew up slowly, the way lonely children with imaginary friends tend to do. She was tall for her age, and skinny as a twig, but being lithe didn’t matter one snip to her. She was sad without knowing why…her parents were divorced, which was normal, her big brother teased her endlessly, which was normal, and she did well in school, which was pretty normal, although she hated giving presentations to the class.
Sam (8 at the time) and Xibal lay on the grass in the backyard, pointing out shapes in the branches and leaves overhead. Xibal started the game by pointing out funny looking clouds, but Sam hated that game…clouds were funny creatures, sure, but she didn’t trust them one bit. One of the monsters underneath her bead was a gaseous monster, it changed form and drifted between the space betwixt pillow and bedframe, grabbing her by the neck before Xibal could snap his chubby white mouth shut on it’s creeping tentacles and sever the limb. Xibal felt terrible about that, he had been asleep at the post, and so he was trying desperately to make Sam see that not all vapor was bad.
Still, Sam was a stubborn sort, and when she pointed out how the leaves looked like a sleeping unicorn, Xibal was quick to counter with a slithering snake made of branches. Sam giggled and nodded, and pointed out a mother hen and her chicks made of the sunlight between the leaves. Xibal indicated towards the trunk of the tree, where they both saw a turtle rustling in the wind. Sam was laughing hysterically now, and Xibal chortled in tune.
“why are there monsters always trying to get me?” Sam mused, after the laughter had died down, as she absentmindedly scratched Xibal’s fuzzy white tummy.
“its only nighttime when monsters come out….” Xibal deflected with the best of them.
“Xibby, come on.”
“because you’re so sweet!” Xibal tried again, nuzzling Sam in the face.
But Sam would have none of it. She sat up, abandoning Xibal’s belly and crossing her arms. Xibal sat up too, or rather rolled to his feet, before floating half-a-foot above the grass. He looked Sam in the eyes, his curious three-pupiled eyes distracting her for a moment.
“well, I was hoping to tell you about the LATER, at the RIGHT MOMENT,” (Xibal was not above guilting a child) “but if you INSIST…”
“I do! Tell me, Xibby!”
“Well,” he paused, to make sure she was serious, and when she continued to nod and look frankly into his eyes, “You know how I told you before, that monsters are evil and terrible and it’s ok that I kill them, that it doesn’t make you evil and terrible in turn?”
“Yes, and….”
“Well the part I left out was that the REASON I can kill them, and you can’t alone, is because monsters weren’t always monsters. They USED to be imaginary friends….just like me.”
Sam couldn’t believe it. Her jaw dropped open and her eyes went wide as a full moon, and she only recently forgave herself for reflexively flinching away.
“that’s not all of it.” Xibal was determined to finish this now, while her had her attention, while she was still on his side. “neglected imaginary friends become monsters, that’s not a big secret, I think it was even made into a terrible Disney TV movie a few years ago. The secret is….are you listening?” Sam was, with her entire body, willing her complete and utter attention into her ears and eyes, “the secret is that SOME imaginary friends, not ME, NEVER me…CHOSE to become monsters after their human had forgotten about them. They WANTED to scare special little boys and girls like you, because the pain of being forgotten was just too much to bear. They figured that being remembered, however awful the memory, was better than to simply fade away.”
Sam sat, and considered this, and Xibal was wise enough to let her do so peacefully. (He didn’t have to tell her about the Great War, and that was certain, at least not on such a lovely sun-swept day.)
“so one day I’ll forget you? Or you’ll go away?” Sam piped up finally, edging closer to Xibal as a particularly intimidating cloud crossed over the sun, casting a shadow over the formerly sun-dappled lawn.
Xibal sighed. This was supposed to be fun afternoon, and here he was, giving the facts of life to a preteen. Xibal loved Sam more than his own horn, more than floating across the surf at the beach, more than anything you (or he) could think of. He simply had to tell her the truth….but not the whole truth, not yet.
“when you get older…”
“yuck!”
“WHEN you get older, you will make friends and you will be involved in social activities,” (Xibal was not one to talk down to his human, as so many imaginary friends tended to do), “you’ll sleep soundly through the night and, this is the important part, the monsters won’t WANT you anymore….”
“why not?”
Xibal squinted his eyes and gave Sam a withering look, one he reserved only for when she was being incurably cheeky or interrupting. She bit her lip and folded her hands. She was leaning forward on her knees, for all appearances at rapt attention. Xibal cleared his throat, a sound somewhere between a hiccup and a gulp, and carried on.
“They won’t care about you, because when you start growing up, you aren’t a child anymore. You’re a young adult. You can defend yourself, “(mostly, he didn’t add, for there was no reason to scare her anymore than he had to) “and you won’t NEED me. You will still LOVE me and maybe even WANT me here, but you won’t NEED me like you do now. Does that make sense?”
Sam nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “But…”
“But what if you stay a child forever? Snugglebuns, (his embarassing nickname for her that she secretly loved) you simply can’t. I will fade away, and you will remember me as an afterthought…because you’re having so much fun growing up!” with that, he licked the side of her face from chin to temple, making her giggle and throw her arms around him.
“I’ll never forget you, Xibby my love! Never Never ever!”
he hugged her back as best he could without arms, nuzzling into her shoulder and casting a cautious glace at the sky. The clouds were gathering now; it would rain within the hour if not much sooner. It was time to go inside.
“race you to the fort!” Xibal cried, and Sam leapt up quick as a bunny, running to the back door and yanking it open, then dashing up the stairs to the ‘fort’ made of blankets, littered with plush toys and Legos and throw pillows.
Xibal floated after her, his anxious eyes to the sky, and closed and locked the door behind him.
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Kindling: Xibal, Sam and Tom 