/* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}                                                                                  IMAGINARY FRIENDS                                                                                      by Heather Estey   Manny walks around the side of the house. He passes through the gate, kicks an empty beer can on the cigarette butt-filled patio, and enters the house by means of the back sliding glass door. The door is unlocked. It is always unlocked. This is how Manny accesses the house after school.   A sight for sore eyes, red sweat pants torn and too short, a dirty green and white shirt, and a giant backpack filled with more than he can carry, Manny climbs the stairs to his room. He doesn’t spend much time in his room. He has outgrown all of his toys, which still occupy closet and shelf space. He sets his backpack down next to his bed and heads outdoors to play.   Sometimes, Manny shoots baskets at the portable hoop out back in the patio area until his friend Mobyron comes around. Mobyron lives nearby, however, he and Manny don’t attend the same school. Today Mobyron has some street chalk with him, so he and Manny go into the alley to draw with it.   Although they are both in the second grade, neither can read. They know a few letters hence the alley is soon covered in random “M’s” and “N’s” as well as miniature square houses full of smiling happy faces. Manny hopes his parents will have another baby in the near future; consequently he would have a sister.    As Manny draws smiling faces in happy houses, he tells Mobyron about how he heard his Mom talking to her imaginary friend. He heard his Mom say how she wishes she had a baby girl. She doesn’t like to play sports and doesn’t know what to do with a boy. She wants a girl that she can buy pretty clothes for, dress up, and whose hair she can brush.    His Mom’s imaginary friend agrees with her, adding how dirty and messy boys are. Manny is now crying, and between his sobs he asks Mobyron if he thinks his Mom loves him.   Mobyron, looking over to Manny said, “of course she does. Mom’s always love their kids,” and he drew a heart on the pavement.    Manny, unconsciously drawing little hearts too, asked, “Then why does my Mom say things that hurt my heart?”     Mobyron retraced the heart he was drawing. “I’m hungry,” he said, “come on now, let’s go get something to eat.”   While they were rummaging through the kitchen looking for the peanut butter and jelly, Manny’s Mom arrived.   “Hi honey,” she said as she reached from behind Manny for a container stored in the cupboard high above his head. “Good, you found yourself something to eat. Your Dad and I are going out to dinner with the neighbors. We shouldn’t be late.”  She vanished as quickly as she had appeared.    Calling out in the direction she fled Manny managed to ask, “Can Mobyron spend the night?”  He smeared some peanut butter onto his sandwich bread in the much accustomed to silence.      His Mom was in too much of a hurry to provide a response; however, Manny and Mobyron knew the sleepover was approved. It was a school night, but in spite of this fact and that even the older kids on the block weren’t allowed to have sleepovers on school nights, Mobyron was always a welcomed guest.   The two boys watched some T.V. and then got ready for bed. The light was still on when they jumped into Manny’s blue racecar shaped bed and pulled the blanket up to their chins. Manny always slept with the light on.    Mobyron tried to convince Manny that he didn’t need to sleep with the light on anymore. “There isn’t anything to be afraid of,” he reassured, “nothing can harm you.”      Manny wanted to turn the light off to show that he wasn’t afraid. He mulled over the matter in his mind. He had almost gathered enough courage to crawl out from underneath the covers and switch it off, but asked Mobyron the question he had been pondering instead.   “Do you want to fly airplanes when you get older, too, Mobyron?”    Moving closer to Manny Mobyron whispered, “We are going to fly to the moon.” In his glee, Manny forgot about the light and fell asleep.   Later that night Manny was awakened by the sound of his parents coming home. He could distinguish the sound of their car from anyone’s. He listened as they drove up and parked in their designated spot in the alley.   He heard both doors open and shut. It was a small car with only two seats so he had never ridden in it. It was sporty, bright, and shiny.  It looked like a spaceship and it had lots of gadgets inside that only adults could touch. Manny’s parents’ imaginary friends admired it and claimed it was the fastest car in town.    Manny’s Dad reached in and turned off his light without checking to see if he was in bed. If he had checked, he would have seen Manny sitting upright with his eyes wide open, a small tear beginning to form in the bottom of each. It was Manny’s biggest wish to have his Dad come in at night, tell him a bedtime story, tuck him in, and give him a hug and kiss goodnight.    As the first tear rolled down his cheek, he overheard his Dad and Mom inform each other about the busy day each would have in the morning, and their current exhaustion. Manny flopped over and pressed his tears dishearteningly into the pillow.   Daylight woke Manny, yet before he had dressed for school he heard his Mom’s words, “Don’t be late for school,” uttered from the bottom of the stairs.   He followed the clicking of her heals to the car, and listened as she raced off into the distance. Mobyron headed home while Manny grabbed his backpack and a handful of Cheerios on his way out the door to school. He had forgotten to do his homework assignment again, but that was okay, his teacher had stopped asking him for it.   It was Friday, and at school all the children were talking about their weekend plans. Some kids were going to the mountains or to the desert with their family. Other kids were going to the beach or to the park to have a family picnic. One girl was going to Disneyland.   “What are you doing for the weekend?” a schoolmate asked.   Without looking up, Manny told the boy that his parents had invited their imaginary friends over for dinner and card games, and that he was having Mobyron sleep over.   Puzzled, the classmate inquired why Manny called his parents' friends “imaginary friends”?   Manny glanced downwards and in a faint voice murmured, “I call them imaginary friends because they aren’t really friends at all. They cause my parents to forget about me and make them so tired that they don’t even have the energy to tuck me in at night. They only like fast cars, grown up food, and games I’m not allowed to play. They think they know everything, but they don’t even care about me.”   That evening, Manny came downstairs to get a glass of water. His parents and their imaginary friends had just finished dinner and were engaging in gossip at the table. “You hurry up and get what you have to get,” his Mom spoke without turning her head.   “We’re having an adult conversation,” his Dad added, imaginary friends nodding in agreement.   Manny quickly poured two glasses of water and was mounting the stairs when he overheard one of his parents imaginary friends probe, “why did he get two glasses of water?”    In an act revealing her contempt, his mother rolled her eyes, peered at her husband, and explained, “Manny has a make-believe friend. The second glass of water is for him.”    “That just goes to show you,” one of Manny’s parents imaginary friends began, “you work your hands to the bone for these kids, give them everything they could possibly desire, make innumerable sacrifices for them, and what do they do? They go off and create some nonsense, humbug fantasy world!”   Manny just barely caught the tail end of his parent’s imaginary friends comment, when he handed Mobyron his glass of water. Mobyron had met Manny on the stairs. A glass of water in one hand, and each other’s hand in the other, Manny and Mobyron ascended the stairs together. They climbed and climbed and climbed, and never looked back.            

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