In Memoriam: Lost Innocence

Feet still too small to be a twelve-year-olds trampled the stone steps easily enough, only tripping once on the untied laces. Slightly spiky blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight of the early afternoon; the red wool sweater itched against his neck. A familiar sensation as he reached for the doorknob: his body tensed, about to welcome his best, his only friend.

But for the first time, for as long as he could remember, there was no clacking of claws on the floor. There was no bottlebrush tail whisking out of sight as the door slowly swung open, preparing for a sneak ambush further down the hallway. There was no throaty voice speaking to him, no deep purrs.

Only silence.

"Mom?" he called, knowing full well that she wasn't even home yet; since he had turned twelve last summer, she had taken to grocery shopping while he was at school, so that she could spend more time while he was awake; she must not have gotten back yet. Slowly, feeling a cold trepidation, the boy walked up the stairs to his room. A creak on the stairs behind him belied another being, and the boy spun around. "Aha - - Oh."

Nobody was there.

Feeling slightly foolish, and more than a little frightened, the boy finished climbing the stairs. A quick glance down both ends of the long hall assured him that there was still no tail, no claws, no pattering of padded feet. The boy gulped as he paused at the door to his bedroom, wondering when it had changed so much. Where there were once comic book cutouts, and stickers of various persuasions, there was now "Keep Out" signs and caution tape.

The door creaked as it opened, causing little shivers to dance down the boy's spine. And finally, the boy spied the sight he'd been longing to see all day: a ragtag, patched old stuffed animal.

"Hobbes!" the boy cried out, tears coming to his eyes as he rushed to take his friend in his arms. But something was wrong; there was no return hug, no purring. No signs of life. Slowly, Calvin's arms fell away from the limp form of the toy, looking into its glass eyes.

"Hobbes?" he asked, in a tiny voice.

Silence.

"Hobbes?!" the boy began to cry, shaking the toy back and forth, as though that would get him an answer. "HOBBES!"

A door clicking somewhere downstairs shook the boy, and he turned, flying down the stairs and into the arms of his rather shocked mother. She hugged the crying boy as best she could with her groceries still in her arms, while his arms were firmly attached to her waist.

"Calvin, honey. What's wrong?"

"Something's wrong with Hobbes! He just lays there!" Calvin's muffled voice sounded tiny, even to her ears. A heavy weight settled on her heart as he continued speaking. "He just lays there! He doesn't move or talk anymore, and he…he looks dead, Mommy. Why won't he move?!"

Slowly, the grocery bag fell to the floor, and she knelt, hugging her son tightly to her chest. She blinked back tears of her own as Calvin sobbed into her shoulder. He can't be growing up this fast…Please God, not this fast. He's still just a baby! He's MY baby! The weight got heavier and heavier, as Calvin cried his little heart out. Finally, his sobs subsided, and she was able to pick him up and carry him up the stairs to his room.

"NO! I don't wanna go in there! That's where Hobbes died!"

His mother felt her heart break at this statement, and simply pushed open the door with her foot. Calvin burrowed into her shoulder, causing her to stumble a bit, but she trudged forward, her soul gathering more and more weight with each step. Finally she looked down at the stuffed tiger, feeling very sad; the patches she had so painstakingly sewn after each scrape Calvin had gotten himself into were wearing out.

The limbs of the tiger were twisted; his left arm was beginning to come off. One eye was loose, and there was a chunk missing from his right ear. All in all, the toy looked…broken. Small and easily broken, like a child's heart. She set Calvin on his feet, as he refused to look at the rest of the room, and picked up Hobbes.

"Calvin, sit down honey…" Before you break my heart any more…Calvin sat down reluctantly, tears still leaking from his eyes. His mother sat beside him, putting her arm around his shoulders and considering various lies she could tell him. Finally, she knew he'd want to be treated as an adult, even if it meant that he had to face the truth.

"Calvin, Hobbes isn't dead. He was always just a tiger, just a stuffed tiger." She ignored his protests, and continued. "However, Hobbes the personality is still alive. The Hobbes you knew and loved was in your head, honey. Which means he's still there. You just have to look for him."

Calvin turned his watery eyes to his mother, unsure whether to believe her. She nodded at him, and he closed his eyes. Surely enough, a small, sardonic voice could be heard in his head, and Calvin knew it was the voice his Conscience had taken. A small smile graced his lips before it faded, and Calvin took comfort in knowing that his friend wasn't entirely dead, even though he refused to believe that friend was "always" just a toy.

"Calvin, Hobbes is now in you. He doesn't need this body anymore, so he left it." She paused, not wanting to say the next line. "You're growing up, Calvin. Hobbes knew that. And he knew that you didn't need him as much anymore. But he'll always be there."

With a sense of finality, she stood up and set Hobbes down with precise care on Calvin's dresser. His mother blew a kiss to him and walked out the door, closing it behind her. Calvin was left to stare at his tiger, and a strange sense of sleepiness overtook him. Must've been the crying…not that I'll ever admit that to anyone…As Calvin drifted off, he could've sworn that he saw Hobbes wink at him from his place on the dresser, and a silently sardonic voice whispered in his ear, "Goodbye Calvin. Miss you…"

Goodbye, Hobbes…For now.

A/N: Alright. I know that it sort of sounds like Calvin has a metal issue, but really, his mother only said that to him because…well, it's the truth. When we truly love someone, sometimes we hear them in our heads. They become that little voice, pushing us to go farther, to do better…

I know this story sort of came out of the blue, but…I felt like I needed to say goodbye to an old childhood friend. Calvin and Hobbes was there when no one else was, and I loved it. And as I come of age in my society (meaning that I'm turning 18, people), I feel a certain sadness at all the things we lose from our childhood.