Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend (33 page)

‘Get up!’ I yell.

He listens. He pops right back up.

Mrs Patterson steps forward and opens the front door. The one next to the steering wheel. Oswald is still in position to climb in. He is standing a couple steps back from where I told him to wait, but he is close enough to get in, I think.

‘Now!’ I yell, and Oswald moves, faster than I think he can move, squeezing in and crawling across the driver’s seat just ahead of Mrs Patterson’s body. I am not sure what would have happened had Mrs Patterson sat on Oswald. Imaginary friends are usually pushed out of the way, like when the elevator gets crowded, but there is always someplace to be pushed into. If Mrs Patterson sat on Oswald, there would be no place for him to go.

I’m glad we’ll never find out.

I pass through the back seat door, climb over the cloth bag and sit behind Oswald, who is now in the passenger seat.

‘Are you okay?’ I ask.

‘Yes,’ he says. But his voice sounds far away. After a couple seconds, he adds, ‘She doesn’t look like a bad person. I thought she would look a lot meaner.’

‘That’s probably why no one thinks she stole Max,’ I say.

‘Maybe all the devils look normal,’ Oswald says. ‘Maybe that’s why they can be so bad.’

He sounds so far away now that I am worried he won’t survive the car ride.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ I ask.

‘Yes,’ he says.

‘Good. We’ll be at Mrs Patterson’s house real soon.’

Even though we’ll be at Mrs Patterson’s house soon, we can’t save Max until tonight. Oswald has to exist for another few hours, and I am not sure if he will.

I try to put those thoughts out of my mind and pay attention to the streets as we leave the school. I need to draw a map in my head for my plan to work. First we turn left out of the circle. We drive to the end of the road and stop at a stop light. It’s a long light. Mrs Patterson starts tapping on her steering wheel while we wait. She thinks it is long, too. Finally the light turns green and Mrs Patterson turns left.

The radio is on. A man is telling us about the news. Nothing about a little boy disappearing from school.

We drive past the park on the left and a church on the right. The front lawn of the church is covered by pumpkins. There is a white tent beside the field of orange. A man is standing underneath the tent. I think he is selling the pumpkins. We pass through two more traffic lights. Then we turn right at another traffic light.

‘Left, then left, then three lights and a right,’ I say and I repeat it twice more. I try to turn it into a song because songs are easier to remember.

‘What are you saying?’ Oswald asks.

‘Directions. I need to know how to get back to the school.’

‘Driving in cars isn’t very fun either,’ Oswald says. ‘But a little better than the bus.’

I wish I could talk to him but I can’t. I am trying to memorize directions. But I feel bad. Oswald is fading away fast. The only imaginary friend who I ever met who could touch the outside world will disappear for ever and I do not have time to talk to him.

We drive down a long, dark street. No parks or churches. Just houses and roads on the left and right. We go through two stop lights and then Mrs Patterson turns left and we drive down a small, windy hill. At the bottom of the hill she turns left again. This is Mrs Patterson’s street. I recognize it. The pond is on the right. Mrs Patterson’s house is down the street on the right, too.

I try to imagine the drive from the school to Mrs Patterson’s street in my mind. Left, left, right, left, left. Traffic lights in between. The park. The pumpkin church. The pond.

I realize that I am not good with directions. I can walk to the hospital and the police station and the gas station because I walk slowly. Cars drive fast. It’s hard to notice things when you are driving. And there are more turns to memorize because you go farther.

The car slows down and Mrs Patterson turns right into her driveway.

‘We’re here,’ I say. ‘The house is at the top of this hill.’

‘Okay,’ Oswald says.

We drive up the hill to the house. Mrs Patterson presses the button on the remote control and the garage door opens. She pulls into the garage and presses the button on the remote control again. The garage door closes.

‘Is it time to save Max?’ Oswald asks.

‘Not yet,’ I say. ‘We have to wait a few hours. Do you think you can wait that long?’

‘I don’t know time. I don’t know how long a few hours is.’

‘That’s okay,’ I say. ‘I’m going to check on Max first, because I can pass through the door to his room. But you will see him soon.’

Mrs Patterson slams her car door shut. It’s the bang that makes me realize that Oswald is still sitting in the passenger seat with no way of getting out of the car.

I have made another mistake.

After spending six years being able to pass through doors, I have forgotten that Oswald can’t.

Again.

CHAPTER 54

‘What’s the matter?’ Oswald asks.

I have not said a word since Mrs Patterson closed the door.

‘I messed up,’ I say. ‘I forgot to tell you to get out of the car.’

‘Oh.’

‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘I’ll think of something.’

But as I tell Oswald not to worry, I can see a picture of him in my mind. The only imaginary friend who could touch the real world, fading away inside this ordinary car in this ordinary garage, unable to do the last, great thing that he was meant to do.

‘I could try to open the door,’ Oswald says.

‘You can’t,’ I say. ‘I saw how hard it was for you to ring the doorbell at Max’s house. You’ll never be able to pull the handle and push that door at the same time.’

Oswald looks at the handle and the door. He nods. ‘Maybe she will come back,’ he says.

It’s true. She might. She left the cloth bag on the back seat and she may still need it. But Oswald is fading fast. If she does not come back soon, I am afraid that there will be nothing to come back to.

‘Climb back here,’ I say. ‘If she comes back, she will come back for this bag. This is the door she will open.’ I point at the door closest to the bag. ‘We have to be ready.’

Oswald climbs into the back seat. I am still amazed at how easily he moves even though he is a giant. He sits between me and the bag. We sit in silence for a while, waiting.

‘Maybe you should go inside and check on Max,’ Oswald suggests. He sounds a million miles away. His voice is soft and muffled.

I thought about checking on Max but I am afraid to leave the car. I am afraid that Oswald will disappear while I am gone. I look closely at him. I can still see him, but I can also see everything behind him. The bag on the seat. The car door. The rake and shovel hanging on the wall of the garage. When he stops moving, it is easier to see the rake and the shovel than to see him.

‘I’ll be okay,’ he says. It’s like he was reading my mind. ‘Just go check on Max and come back.’

‘You’re disappearing,’ I say.

‘I know.’

‘I’m afraid that you will disappear while I am gone.’

‘You think that if you leave the car, I will start disappearing faster?’ he asks.

‘No. I just don’t want you to die alone.’

‘Oh.’

We sit in silence again. I feel like I have said the wrong thing. I try to think of the right thing to say.

‘Are you afraid?’ I finally ask.

‘No,’ he says. ‘Not afraid. Sad.’

‘Sad about what?’

‘I’m sad that we won’t be friends anymore. I’m sad that I won’t see John or Teeny again. I’m sad that I won’t ride in another elevator or another bus. I’m sad that I won’t get to be friends with Max.’ He sighs and hangs his head. I try to think of the right thing to say again, but he speaks first before I can. ‘But when I disappear, I won’t be sad anymore. I won’t be anything anymore. So I’m just sad now.’

‘Why aren’t you afraid?’

This is not the right thing to say for Oswald, but it is the right thing to say for me, because I am afraid and I am not even disappearing. I feel bad for not thinking about what is the right thing to say to Oswald, but I can’t help it.

‘Afraid of what?’ he asks.

‘Afraid of what happens after you die.’

‘What happens?’ he asks.

‘I don’t know what happens.’

‘Then why be afraid?’ he asks. ‘I think probably nothing happens. And if it’s better than nothing, that’s okay, too.’

‘What if it’s worse than nothing?’

‘There’s nothing worse than nothing. But if it’s nothing, I won’t know it because I will be nothing.’

In that moment, Oswald sounds like a genius to me.

‘But what about not existing?’ I ask. ‘The whole world will go on without you. Like you were never here. And then someday everyone who knows you will be dead, too, and then it will be like you never, ever existed. Doesn’t that make you sad?’

‘Not if I save Max. If I save Max, I will exist for ever.’

I smile. I don’t believe what he has said, but I smile because I like the idea. I wish I could believe it.

‘Go check on Max,’ he says. ‘I promise that I won’t disappear.’

‘I can’t.’

‘If I start to disappear, I will honk the horn. Okay? I am sure I can do that.’

‘Fine,’ I say, and I turn to leave the car. Then I stop. ‘You’re right. You can honk the horn.’

‘So?’

‘Climb into the front seat,’ I say. ‘Honk that horn.’

‘Why?’

‘I think it might be your way out of here.’

Oswald climbs into the driver’s seat. He places both hands on the horn. I can barely see them. I am worried that his power to touch the real world might be disappearing as he disappears.

He presses down, and as he does so, the muscles in his arms tighten. His body shakes. Two veins in his neck grow thick and dark, even as they grow transparent. He groans a faraway groan. A second later the horn honks. It honks for about three seconds before stopping.

The moment it stops, Oswald relaxes. He sighs.

‘Get ready now,’ I say.

‘Okay,’ he says between breaths.

We wait for what feels like a long time. Ten minutes. Maybe longer. We stare at the door that connects the garage to the house. It does not open.

‘You need to do it again,’ I say.

‘Okay,’ Oswald says, but the look on his face tells me that he is not sure if he can.

‘Wait,’ I say. ‘Mrs Patterson might be in the secret room with Max. Maybe she can’t hear the horn from the secret room. Let me go inside and check where she is. I don’t want you to honk the horn for nothing.’

‘Me either,’ Oswald says.

I find Mrs Patterson in the kitchen. She is washing a frying pan with a sponge. She is singing the hammer song again. The dishwasher is open. There are plates and glasses and silverware in the racks. Maybe she just finished eating with Max.

I return to the garage. As I approach the car, I do not see Oswald. He has disappeared. Just as I feared, he stopped existing while I was inside the house.

Then I see him. Almost invisible but still alive. He blinks and I can see his two black eyes and then the outline of his giant body. We can’t wait until Mrs Patterson is asleep, I decide. We have to save Max now.

I climb back into the car.

‘Okay. She is in the kitchen. Listen. When she comes out, she will open the car door to check on the horn. To see what is making it honk. Get out of the car right away and make sure you get into the house as fast as you can. You can’t get stuck in the garage.’

‘Okay,’ he says. I can barely hear him and I am sitting right next to him.

Oswald returns his hands to the steering wheel. This time when he presses down, he lifts himself up so his bottom is no longer touching the seat. He is using his weight this time to help him. The muscles in his nearly transparent arms pop out again. The veins in his neck return. He groans. It takes at least a minute before the horn finally honks. It honks for only a second this time, but it is enough.

A moment later, the door connecting the garage to the house opens. Mrs Patterson is standing in the doorway. She stares at the car. Her brow furrows. She leans forward slightly. But she remains in the doorway.

I stare into her eyes. She is not going to check on the car. I know it.

‘Do it again!’ I shout. ‘Honk the horn again. Now!’

Oswald looks at me. I can barely see him but I can still see the exhaustion on his face. He does not believe that he can do it.

‘Do it!’ I shout again. ‘Honk that horn for Max Delaney! You are his only chance. Do it. You will be gone soon and if you don’t get out of this car you will have nothing to show for it. Honk it. Honk it now!’

Oswald rises up. He kneels on the driver’s seat and leans over, putting all his weight on the horn. And then he pushes, shouting Max’s name as he does. Even though every word he says sounds farther and farther away, Max’s name fills the car. He doesn’t just shout Max’s name. He roars it. The muscles in his back rise up with him, joining those in his arms and shoulders. He reminds me of a snowplow again. An unstoppable snowplow.

The horn honks almost immediately.

Mrs Patterson is pulling the door closed when the sound of the horn stops her. She jumps. She releases the door and allows it to swing open again. She stares back at the car. She scratches her head. Then, just as I think she is going to step back into the house and ignore her self-honking car again, she descends the three steps into the garage.

‘Here she comes,’ I say. ‘When she opens that door, get out of the car and get into the house.’

Oswald nods. He cannot speak. He cannot catch his breath.

Mrs Patterson pulls open the driver’s door and leans in. She is reaching for the horn with her right arm as Oswald twists his way past her and steps onto the concrete floor of the garage. He pauses, still catching his breath, when I tell him to go.

‘Go now,’ I say.

He listens. As he passes by Mrs Patterson, she tests the horn, honking it herself. Oswald flinches at the sound but keeps moving. I don’t waste a second waiting for her to finish her test. I pass through the door on my side of the car and follow Oswald into the house. As we pass through the washer machine room and into the gloom of the living room, I stop. The sun has set. It is dark outside. We have been sitting in the car longer than I thought. There are no lights on in this room. I have lost sight of Oswald.