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Gijinka Renamon: ) What better book for an abandoned friend to read?

Chapter 4: A Little One on One

Satin sat at her sewing machine, running a length of cloth through it's thrumming arm. She was busy putting the finishing touches on a sweater she was making for Crackers. She smiled at the thought of her little pink roommate. After that first sleepless night she and Crackers had become nearly inseparable. He was a very kind creature and he reminded her distinctly of an admiring little brother. He had helped make her first few weeks at Foster's a success. Wilt had helped quite a bit too, as had Mac, the boy she'd met her first day. They had accepted her into their lives with open arms and seemed to enjoy making her feel at home.

It was Wilt who had helped her get the sewing machine. She had spotted on in the storage closet last week and had mentioned to Wilt how much she loved sewing. The next morning he had shown up at her room carrying the bulky machine with a smile on his face, "I asked Mister Herriman if you could use this, I hope that's okay."

In response to her shocked silence he'd continued with, "I thought that . . . Well . . . It's just gathering dust in the closet and . . . You said you liked to sew. I'm sorry."

At this she had laughed, "What are you sorry for! This is wonderful! Oh, thank you so much Wilt, it's incredibly thoughtful of you."

She'd blushed, realizing she was starting to ramble. His smile had returned as she motioned him inside. He sat the machine on a small desk that Frankie had helped her move in yesterday for when she decided to write letters, the same desk she sat at now, working.

Carefully, she extricated the small orange sweater from the sharp teeth of the machine and held it up, examining it. It would be a perfect fit, just the right size for a tiny, cold imaginary friend. Standing, she folded the sweater and gently placed it in Cracker's basket, where he was sure to find it. Currently, he was off playing with Shaky and Leroy, two of his friends. With a leisurely stretch, she opened her door and stepped out into the hall, thinking vaguely that she might go find Frankie or Wilt to hang out with. The two of them always needed help with something and she loved their company.

In her first week at Foster's, Crackers, Wilt, and Frankie had proved to be invaluable friends to have. They had taught her the ropes, introduced her to the house, kept her out of trouble, and showed her the basic rules. Over the past few weeks she'd grown really close to them and often in the afternoons she could be found cleaning with Frankie, watching TV with Crackers, or shooting hoops with Wilt.

As she passed by a window on the second floor, she spotted a familiar figure on the basketball court and smiled to herself. Now she had a destination.

"Hey Wilt!"

Wilt looked up as a familiar voice called to him. Satin stood leaning against a park bench nearby, her blonde hair was up in a messy ponytail that fluttered down over the back of her T-shirt and overalls. With a challenging grin, she straightened up, "Ready for a rematch?"

Wilt's smile grew wider. Ever since she'd asked to play with him last week, Satin had been determined to beat him at basketball. This was their ninth game and she was still losing. Jokingly, he replied, "I'm sorry, but only if you're ready to lose."

Satin's grin turned into a fierce smile and Wilt felt a little lurch in his chest. He stood up a little straighter and breathed slowly in and out for a moment thinking that, perhaps, he'd overdone it during practice.

Satin noticed the worried look on his face and stepped forward, "Wilt? Hey, are you all right?"

The feeling dissipated and he turned back to his competitor, "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little winded."

"Do you want to take a break before we start?" Satin replied, a look of concern on her petite features.

Wilt smiled reassuringly, "No, it's okay. I'm fine. Really."

They took their places on the court and began their game. A small, slight feeling pervaded Wilt's senses. It was an old feeling, something he hadn't felt in a long time. A wave of nostalgia swept over him as he remembered when he'd last felt this way. His last game with Jodee . . . The day he came to Foster's.

Jodee leapt up, sending the basketball flying up and over, through the net. Wilt grinned and swept the ten year old into his arm, "Hey! You did it Jodee! You won!"

Jodee smiled triumphantly, "I can't believe it! I did it!"

The first win, her first win against her imaginary friend. Wilt was beaming at her, he was so proud to have her as his creator, to know that someone as vibrant as her had chosen to make him. Suddenly, he sparkling eyes began to dim, her smiled diminishing until her face collapsed. She seemed to struggle with something inside, finally wrapping her arms around his neck, sobbing, "Oh, Wilt . . . I'll miss you!"

Wilt held her closer, laying his head on hers. He'd hoped to distract her from the inevitable with this game but now . . . It only served as a reminder. Sitting with his back against the basketball hoop he cradled her in his arm and looked into her face, "I'm sorry, Jodee. Really, I am. But . . . Your parents think this is what's best and that's what has to happen. I'm sorry. I'll think of you everyday and I could write to you. Would that be okay?"

Jodee nodded, still crying into his soft fur. Wilt sighed and held her, his head laying on hers, "I'm sorry, Jodee. I'm so sorry."

Satin's sly grin returned to her face as she dashed between Wilt's legs and stole the ball from his hands, hurling it to the basket. Wilt found himself snapped back to reality with the motion and immediately sought to even the score. The game sped up from there the opponents scoring point for point. Until Satin was swamped by Wilt downing three baskets in a row as if she wasn't even there. Satin was panting by this time, her fur matted with sweat. Wilt grinned rolling the ball over his arms, "Good game, Satin."

She smiled and nodded, still too breathless to speak. Wilt smiled at her fondly, recalling how Jodee could never keep up with him at first either. Satin reminded him a lot of her in some ways. Though she generally was just as fussy in dress and manners as Mister Herriman, Satin had a streak of fire running through her. She could be every bit the lady and yet every bit the tomboy.

Fixing her strap where it had fallen off one shoulder, she replied, "Great game. You know, one of these days I'm going to beat you."

Wilt laughed, "I'm sorry but you're going to need practice."

Satin shrugged, "I'm willing to learn."

The red friend nodded, "I'll teach you, if that's okay?"

Nodding, Satin stretched, "Well, I think I'm going to go hit the showers. Oh! Crackers and I are going to watch a movie later. We'd love for you to join us."

Wilt smirked inwardly at her lapse back into formality, he saw it as rather cute, "Sure, that'd be great. Eight as always?"

"Eight as always." Satin replied with a beaming smile as she turned to go, "See you then."

"See you!" Wilt called, sitting on the bench.

He stretched his tired legs and leaned his head backwards over the back of the bench, closing his eyes. A confused feeling was running through his head, one he couldn't quite place. Part of him felt filled with a bursting, boundless energy and another part of him was weighted with a nostalgic sorrow. Being around Satin sometimes filled him with images of Jodee, precious, sweet, little Jodee. The first person he'd found, that he had never doubted for a second. But Satin also invoked other emotions, happier, playful emotions that brought Wilt to say and do things that surprised even him. He didn't always apologize to her and when he did it was more out of habit than truly being afraid that he would offend her. She relaxed him, made him feel less conscious of himself. Sitting up, he shook his head. He was thinking too hard. Satin was a good friend was all and she just happened to remind him of his creator, he could handle that. Besides, it was nice to remember Jodee, after being separated from her for so long.

Then he remembered Natalie telling Satin she would write her at Foster's. He hoped Satin didn't get her hopes up about that one. Creators had a tendency to forget that sort of promise with time. Wilt rose and headed to the house to take a shower, hoping to scrub away the depressing memories that clung to him today. He prayed Satin didn't believe Natalie would write, he'd hate to see her heart broken . . . Like his had been.

Satin lathered herself up, washing the sweat out of her fur with a hand brush. Her game with Wilt had been exceptionally trying, despite her head start of one point. He'd definitely been distracted by something so it was a little unfair but it was a friendly game so she didn't worry too much about it. However, she did worry about Wilt. It seemed this past week he'd been distracted. Sometimes she would say something to him, only to find him staring off into space with a worried or thoughtful look on his face. She wondered what could possibly be troubling him, he always seemed happy enough. Sighing, she squeezed conditioner onto her hair, wondering vaguely if she was to blame. Maybe she'd done something to make him upset or worried, though she couldn't for the life of her think of what she may have done. She had been spending a lot of time with him, maybe he needed a break . . . It was just . . . Well, she enjoyed his company. And, when she was around him she didn't worry so much about Natalie. It had been nearly three weeks now and yet . . . No letters. It wasn't like Natalie was moving three states away, she was only moving to the next town . . . Postage wouldn't take that long surely . . .

Shaking off such notions, she shut off the water and began toweling off vigorously. Natalie would write, she promised.