Sitting around used to be something that Calvin reveled in doing. He had at one point taken great pride in letting his brain turn to mush through television or any other form of non-intellectual activity, such as looking in the creek for non-existent creatures or digging around the backyard for fictitious buried treasure. He was always determined to make sure his mind was lax and running on empty.
Nowadays, Calvin had to be sharp. He had to stay alert and plan things out in advance because he suddenly had real enemies. He was constantly making sure that he didn't get caught unawares because he knew if Dr Brainstorm or Rupert and Earl ever got a hold of him, there was an actual chance they would beat him, and they would actually manage to take over the world. He wasn't about to let that happen on his watch.
Having a gang of friends to keep him on his toes had always been an advantage to him. He would never admit it out loud, but knowing he had his own little team to back him up in times of crisis had made things much easier for him. Now it was down to just him and Hobbes, and that probably meant they had lost whatever safety in numbers they had before. Technically, he still had the MTM and his gadgets to help, but there was just something satisfying about defeating an enemy with his wits.
One Saturday after all their friends had left, Calvin clambered out of bed around nine in the morning. He wasn't interested in cartoons at the moment. Summer was coming yet again, and he was ready for some sort of outdoors activity. Granted, Calvinball had become a group sport, but he remembered a time when it had been one on one, so he was almost certain that he and Hobbes could get back into the swing of things.
After he got dressed, he and Hobbes made their way downstairs where they found Calvin's dad coming back in from apparently mowing the lawn. He was dusting his hands off as he casually glanced up at the stairs and saw his son coming downstairs with his stuffed tiger in his arms.
"Well! Look who's finally up and about!" he said loudly and a little too obnoxiously. "I've been up since six! I had breakfast, had a bike ride, and I just finished mowing the lawn, and I've still got the rest of the day to go!"
Calvin didn't even waste time blinking. He just walked past his father without so much as a glance and headed for the kitchen. He saw his mother sitting at the table, reading a magazine and sipping some tea.
"How long does a mid-life crisis last, Mom?" he asked as he placed Hobbes in a chair before seating himself next to her.
"I don't think it's a mid-life crisis, dear," Mom replied without needing to look up from her article on potted plants. "He's always gotten this adrenaline rush from getting up before everyone else."
Calvin sighed as he reached over to his box of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs and poured them into the bowl. He absently poured the contents into the bowl, and then he fetched the milk from the fridge.
"So, what are you going to do today, Calvin?" Mom asked.
"Hobbes and I were considering sitting in the tree house and staring helplessly off into space," Calvin replied as he poured the milk onto his cereal.
"It's Saturday. I know you're upset because your friends have all moved away, but you'll be able to make new friends when you're ready."
"Mom, you don't understand. It's so hard to find human kids who understand me and are interested in what I like doing. I'm not good at school, I'm terrible at organized sports, and I don't like the human race in general."
"Dear, I know you've had it rough, but one day, everything will start to get better. Growing up isn't that bad, you know. Yes, lot's of things change, but sometimes it's for the better. One day, you'll move on to second grade and then third grade, and before you know it, you'll be an adult with a driver's license and a job and money, and then you'll be able to do anything you like."
Calvin ate a spoonful of cereal in thought. "… It won't be as much fun without my friends."
Mom patted his shoulder. "I know, sweetie. But life marches forward, whether we like it or not. Still, spring break is coming up. Maybe we'll do something special this year."
At that moment, Dad came into the room, and he saw Calvin's cereal. "Oh joy! The real American breakfast – clumps of starch dipped in sugar and passed off as food! I can only imagine what that's doing to your arteries."
Calvin glared at him. "No, Dad, tell me how you really feel."
"If you ask me, it's time you started eating something healthier. If you want, I could make you some runny oatmeal real quick. I just need to boil some water…"
Calvin massaged his temples. "Mom…"
"Dear, let him eat. He's having a hard time lately."
"I know just the thing for that. Why don't you and I go out and clean the gutters? A bit of hard work might be just what you need!"
"It's my day off!" Calvin complained.
"Just because it's your day off doesn't mean you should be lazy. Come on! Finish your breakfast and I'll get the ladder out! After that, we can start organizing the tool shed!"
As he walked away, Calvin stared at his mother in horror.
"Don't worry, dear," Mom sighed. "Once he gets started, he'll forget he asked you so he can keep all the 'fun' to himself."
"Thanks, Mom. Hobbes and me are going to go hide in the treehouse."
Finishing his cereal, Calvin put the bowl in the sink and hurried outside with Hobbes.
Mom shook her head and resumed reading her article.
From somewhere outside, she heard her husband shouting, "Dear? Have you seen my super-thick water resistant gloves?"
Massaging her temples, Mom simply got up and went into the next room where she could simply claim not to have heard him.
Calvin and Hobbes sat in the tree house for an entire hour, waiting for Dad to finish with the gutters, knowing that he would finish behind schedule and do a crummy job, only to proceed to brag about how efficient he was and how much character he had built. Eventually, after heaving out handful after handful of dead leaves and twigs and muck, he finished with a huge smile as he put the ladder away and headed back into the house.
They remained in the tree house for another thirty minutes, not really conversing. They just sat there, at first struggling to keep any sort of conversation going, but once they realized they were mainly talking about the weather – like a couple of old people – they eventually faded into silence, neither certain just what they were supposed to do now.
Calvin let his eyes drift to the house two doors down, noticing that Susie Derkins was sitting in her backyard, playing with her dolls, all by herself. He toyed with the idea of going over and asking if she would be interested in saving the planet sometime during the week, but then he realized that sounded too much he was asking her out on a date, and he decided that was too ridiculous, especially as he was only six.
Hobbes glanced in the direction of some squirrels that were scampering around the yard, digging around the muck from the gutters that now littered the backyard. He briefly toyed with the idea of chasing them around for a bit, but his heart just wasn't in it. He just sat there in his corner of the tree house, wondering if he should start a new strand of conversation, but he couldn't think of anything substantial off the top of his head.
It's very difficult to think of anything decent to say when you're under pressure. Somehow the pressure of saying something to alleviate the mood was crushing their brains, causing a disadvantage in that department. They sat there, staring off into space, wondering what there could be to say to make this moment any less unpleasant, but they couldn't think of anything. The strain of this effort to say something was becoming greater and harder to deal with. They just sat there, staring and thinking and staring and thinking, unable to bring themselves out of their funk and into the world of pleasantries and small talk and faking interest in the other's activities.
Finally, they just gave up and leaned back in the tree house, letting themselves drift off to sleep. Somehow, no matter what happened to them, there was no problem so great that a nap couldn't help it – or at least help them postpone the problem until later.
Eventually, Dad noticed that Calvin had disappeared, and he was a bit disappointed to find that his son was napping in the tree house all day.
"He's been up there sleeping for an hour!" he complained. "Why are we letting him do that when there's so much to be done?"
"Oh, dear, come on," Mom sighed tiredly. "He's lonely. He's only got Hobbes for company now, and we know how talkative he is."
"Well, he should get out there and make some new friends," Dad grumbled. "I can't stand seeing him idle."
"I prefer it to him getting in trouble with the neighbors. Just enjoy the silence. He doesn't let us have it very often."
Dad sighed. "So we're just going to let him do this all through his spring break next week? Is that it? He'll just sit around and let his brain melt away?"
"Well, what else is there to do?"
"I could teach him how to ride his bike."
"He thinks the bike is alive and wants to kill him."
"I could take him for a nature hike through the hills."
"He hates any kind of exercise we force on him."
"I could sit him down and have a nice chat with him."
"He is utterly determined to ignore the virtues of any lectures you or I or anyone else has to give him."
"Well, what are we supposed to do with a kid who doesn't like doing anything that isn't his idea?!"
"I don't know. Look, he's got to get over his depression at some point, and I don't think we should rush it."
"Well, we can't just sit around and do nothing. I say we do something about it."
"Like what?"
Dad reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper that he'd cut out of a newspaper and handed it to his wife. She unfolded and stared at the words on it in bemusement before holding it up.
"You held onto this?" she asked incredulously.
"It seems like a nice place."
"Oh, for crying out loud… If you think he's going to resist a bike ride, how the heck do you think he's going to react to this?"
"Dear, the camp looks like fun. I researched it. They have games and activities and nice food and bunk beds! Calvin's always wanted a bunk bed!"'
"Only to keep away from the monsters under his bed," Mom reminded him.
"Dear, come on – I think the trip might do him some good. He'll have fun and be away from his problems for a while."
"While learning about obedience and respecting authority?"
"Merely a bonus for us," Dad replied innocently.
Mom massaged her temples in sheer anticipation of the headache this was going to cause. "Okay, fine, if you can get him to go, we'll sign him up and get him a room over there. I'm telling you, though – this is not going to be pretty."
Dad nodded and headed in the direction of the backyard. "Hey, Calvin – wake up! I have wonderful news for you!"
The door shut, and thus, Mom was not privy to the upcoming conversation. She simply went over to the junk drawer and pulled out her trusty old earplugs, which had come in handy many times since Calvin was born. She put them both in her ears and went back to her previous task of sorting her recipes for next week. She went about this task for approximately ten seconds before there was a particularly loud screech from the backyard.
"NOO-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-OO!"
There was a brief pause.
"YOU CAN'T MAKE ME! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!"
There was another pause.
Then there was a splash that didn't even cause Mom to glance up.
It wasn't until she noticed someone's knuckles tapping on the table in front of her that she looked up to see her husband soaking wet and his glasses askew. He didn't look happy at all.
Casually, she took the earplugs out and looked up at him. "Well…?"
"He… threw a water balloon at me."
"I had a feeling. How'd he take it then?"
"Not good."
"I didn't think he would."
"So I'm signing him up anyway to punish him."
"Well, that'll make it so much better."
Dad stalked out of the kitchen, dripping water on the floor as he went.
Mom threw a glance out the window at Calvin ranting and raving outside in the treehouse, shouting angrily at his stuffed tiger and basically making his opinions known to anyone who should be passing by, be they human, wildlife or otherwise.
"Oh, this is not going to be pretty," she sighed.
The days before Calvin was to be shipped out were not pretty. He was constantly complaining and whining to whoever would listen, despite their attempts to block him out. He complained during breakfast, during class, during lunch, during class again, during his trip to the principal's office and during the bus ride home.
"What an absolute impedance of justice!" he complained as he walked through the door. "Where does Dad get off sending me away to some camp just so I'll be out of his hair for a week? It's an outrage! He thinks he can get rid of me, does he? I'll show him! I'll be as obnoxious as humanly possible from here on out! I'll be so badly behaved they'll send me home just to get rid of me! I know my way about! I know how to get through life! SCREAM! SCREAM! SCREA – OOF!"
The world suddenly turned orange and white as he felt a familiar force suddenly wrap itself around his middle and carry him across the lawn into some shrubbery. When he emerged, he saw Hobbes jumping around on all fours, laughing and hooting with merriment. Calvin could only glare at him as he spat out several leaves and pulled a twig out of his hair.
"Whooo!" Hobbes cheered. "Feel like shutting up yet?"
Calvin growled and proceeded to chase Hobbes around the yard for several minutes. They ran in circles, up and over the mailbox, around the fire hydrant and through the shrubbery a second time. Hobbes managed to effortlessly jump over all the obstacles while Calvin either had to climb over them or crash into them before climbing over them.
Finally, Hobbes ran back into the house, and Calvin ran straight in after him, startling his mother, who was carrying a potted plant down the hallway at just that precise moment. She was so startled she almost lost her grip, and the plant went flying through the air. Thankfully, she was able to get back under it and catch it in time, but that still didn't improve her mood.
"CALVIN! STOP RUNNING THROUGH THE HOUSE!"
"Well, he started it!" Calvin yelled, pointing up the stairs in the direction Hobbes had disappeared to.
Mom didn't see anyone, naturally, so she just shook her head. "Look, Calvin, I know you're still angry about going to camp, but you never what's going to happen there. You might actually enjoy camp."
"It just isn't fair, Mom! It's weird enough that all my friends moved away! Now I have to go to some sort of camp, away from my regular routine? How are Hobbes and I going to deal with this if we have no one to enjoy it with?"
Mom blinked. "Hobbes?"
"Well, sure! And Hobbes is going to be hungry late at night! What if he just randomly decides to eat one of the kids? He'd do it!"
There was a long pause wherein Mom was clearly deciding how to break the next bit of news that her husband had apparently chickened out of. "Calvin… Honey…"
Calvin's eyes widened. His mother only ever called him 'honey' if she had bad news to break him. "What…?" he asked cautiously.
"Honey, this camp is a very simple camp. You're not really allowed to bring a lot from home. It's all about learning about yourself when you're away from your favorite possessions and necessities, like your computer and your toys and your TV and your… stuffed animals."
Calvin raised an eyebrow, apparently not comprehending.
"… and Hobbes," she finished.
It was as if the entire world just stopped turning. Time seemed to be frozen. Calvin's brain was having trouble rebooting, and the tiny little microbes in his brain were having trouble getting him going again. They seemed to be getting some sort of error message saying, 'INFORMATION IS FLAWED. PLEASE TRY AGAIN.'
Mom waved her hand in front of Calvin's face. "Sweetie…?" she asked worriedly. "Calvin, please say something."
Calvin blinked his way back into reality, absolutely confused. "… Hobbes isn't going with me?" he asked at last.
"Honey, I'm sorry, but – "
"Why are you doing this?"
"I know it seems unfair, but – "
"I'm going through enough already! Now I have to leave my best friend behind?!"
"I know that's hard to accept, dear, but – "
"You're shipping me out for a week to go to some camp I don't want to go to, and now you tell me I have to do it completely isolated?!"
"Dear, I know how you feel, but – "
"But what?!"
"... But don't get mad at me! I'm your mother!"
Calvin stared at her for a very long moment before settling on his best glare and storming upstairs. She listened as he slammed the door to his bedroom hard.
"Well," she sighed. "I think I just earned myself a scornful look on Mother's Day."
Calvin spent the next few days even more depressed than before. After calming down from his initial anger, he entered a moody funk that nobody could drag him out from. He was quiet, sullen and withdrawn.
Needless to say, his parents were silently relieved that he wasn't causing trouble. He was just sitting around in his room, staring out the window. He still wasn't paying attention in school, despite Miss Wormwood's attempts to snap him out of it by shouting at him. He tended to stare straight ahead in a silent depression. He wasn't causing any sort of trouble other than that, so eventually the teacher decided she should count her blessings and continued her favorite pastime of yammering on for hours, giving her long and droll lessons that would've put a hummingbird to sleep.
Even when Hobbes pounced him when he got home, it didn't do much. Calvin didn't even yell. He simply didn't have the strength anymore. They would simply clean themselves off and head upstairs to his room, where he quietly sat around and waited for the next day to end.
His parents sat downstairs in the living room, sipping tea and enjoying magazines and the newspaper, which they hardly ever got to read with Calvin usually causing so much trouble. However, as they turned each page, they kept checking over their shoulders for whatever he might be doing next. They were very suspicious that their boy was plotting some sort of revenge. They were sending him away to a camp he didn't want to go to during the height of his depression. He was the sort of person who would delight in an excuse to dump water balloons on them, or track mud through the house.
The evening before Calvin was to go away, they were particularly worried, and soon they became too paranoid to enjoy the activities that they'd been yearning for. They always checked the cushions of whatever they were about to sit on for any sort of whoopee cushion or strange animal. They checked the fireplace for any sort of innocuous mechanisms. They put up a mirror in the living room so they could always check for any sneak attacks.
The entire day went by with no such activity.
The reason was simple – Calvin was too depressed to inflict revenge on anyone. It was as if his fighting spirit had been drained. He had absolutely no desire to fight back. Everything had fallen apart rather quickly. His world had changed so fast that he hadn't had much of a chance to defend himself, so he wound up lethargic as he simply took whatever was thrown at him.
The night before he was due to leave, he didn't even think to have his dad check for monsters or read him a bedtime story. He just lay there as his mother tucked him in.
"Get a good night's sleep," she said, kissing his forehead. "You have a big day ahead of you."
Calvin didn't reply. He just sighed heavily.
Mom turned out the light and left the room.
Hobbes could only glance at his friend before putting an arm around him, and Calvin wordlessly snuggled up to him.
Growing up sucks, Calvin thought quietly. Even his thoughts were restrained at this point.
Morning came all too soon.
After a long, fitful, dreamless sleep, Calvin woke up to a cloudy morning – no rain, but it might as well have been. The first day of his spring break looked particularly bleak. He was ready to just give up now. Things had become so thoroughly discouraging that he just didn't have the energy to put up a fight. He went through the motions, putting on his clothes, gathering his things and eating breakfast.
Hobbes was silent through most of it. He helped in the gathering of the clothes required for the trip, all the while planning out his farewell speech. He hadn't thought it all the way through yet. He didn't know what precise words he was going to use. Still, he knew the basic theme he was going to use, and he had a feeling that Calvin would appreciate it. First, though, they had to get through all the usual morning tasks.
Calvin's parents were silent as well, but their manner was a little more cheerful. These were the people who would always put Calvin out at the bus stop two hours early on the first day of school, absolutely thrilled to have a chance to get rid of him for a few extra hours. They weren't making a big show of it, but his mom did sashay a little bit as she prepared breakfast, and his dad was humming a jaunty little number as he prepared his dry toast and prunes.
Calvin just stared into his cereal, robotically eating it and not putting up a fuss like they had expected. Unfortunately, they were so relieved he was behaving himself that they didn't really try to make him feel better. They just went about their business, enjoying the peace and quiet.
As soon as Calvin spooned the last bit of cereal into his mouth, his mom quickly swiped away the bowl and poured the milk into the sink. "Okay, Calvin, go get your suitcase. It'll be time to leave in five minutes."
Calvin could only nod helplessly as he walked away towards the stairs, walking up each one like a man on his way to his execution. He put one foot in front of the other, barely focusing on what was ahead. He didn't even realize he'd arrived in his room until he noticed Hobbes handing him his suitcase with an encouraging smile.
"Here," he said gently. "Are you ready to go?"
"… I guess so."
Hobbes could only look his friend up and down for a moment, taking in the sight before him. He had rarely ever seen his friend look so utterly defeated.
"Well…," he said at last. "I suppose quoting Dylan Thomas right now would be a bit pointless."
Calvin blinked. "Who's Dylan Thomas?"
"He was a poet."
"Oh? What did he write?"
"Well, he's most famous for saying, 'Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light'."
"Oh… Who's the light? Am I the light? Am I dying?"
"No, no, no… I think in this case, the light would be your spirit, and you should fight against it dying."
"My spirit is dying?"
"In a theoretical sense, I suppose. You've become a bit depressed lately."
"… Yeah, well…"
"Maybe instead of letting yourself be consumed with your own misery, you ought to fight against it. You're going to a camp that specializes in breaking your spirit and making you obedient against your will. Maybe you should be fighting them."
"How do I do that?"
Hobbes shook his head. "You disappoint me."
"What? What did I do?!"
"You're Calvin! You're the kid that brought down an entire civilization when they invaded someone else's planet! You escaped from a maze of death! You play with the minds of sadistic aliens who are out to kill you! I should think that you of all people could handle one week at a stupid camp!"
Calvin blinked, taken by surprise by his friend's words. Usually, Hobbes served as a sort of moral guardian in times like this, telling him that the world be a bit better if he behaved himself and accepted life's challenges and so forth. "What are you telling me, Hobbes?"
"I'm telling you to hang in there and be yourself. Becoming a mature person would mean nothing if it only came at the cost of breaking your spirit."
Calvin thought about that. He had long suspected that himself, but to hear his friend saying out loud was encouraging. He thought for a few more moments.
Then a shrill voice interrupted him. "CALVIN! GET DOWN HERE! IT'S TIME TO GO!"
Calvin looked towards the door momentarily before turning around and hugging his friend one last time. "I'll send you postcards," he said quickly.
"Have fun," Hobbes replied, winking broadly.
With one last grin, Calvin turned and ran downstairs towards the living room where his parents were waiting.
"Okay, let's go!" Dad said eagerly. "Time for camp! Isn't it exciting?"
"Oh, yes," Calvin replied smoothly. "Very exciting."
Missing the tone in his son's voice, Dad led the way to the car. They all piled inside, and as they were pulling out of the driveway, Calvin threw a glance at his bedroom window, where he saw Hobbes waving at him. He felt his confidence grow.
Bring it on, he thought to himself.
With that, the car took off for the camp.
