Chapter Five- Just a Stuffed Tiger
Calvin stood frozen, staring at the stuffed tiger that lay sprawled upon the ground. The old lady righted herself, dusting herself off gently.
"Thank you young man." The old woman said. "Could you be a dear and help me pick up my things?" Calvin nodded numbly and began to pick up the items, still watching the stuffed tiger. He put all the items back into the box, then slowly plucked the tiger from the ground.
"You seem to have taken an interest to that one young man." The old woman said kindly. Calvin merely nodded in silent agreement.
"…how much?" he breathed.
"I beg your pardon?" the woman asked curiously.
"How much do you want for the tiger?" Calvin restated his voice almost an emotionless state. The old woman looked at him.
"Well dear, I'm taking all these things to the Thrift Store, but if you like, you can keep that one, but why would you want a ratty old thing like that?"
"…I collect tiger things." He bluffed. She eyed him for a moment, but smiled.
"Then it's yours young man, thank you for helping me, I really must be going now." She picked up the box slowly, and walked away.
Calvin stood stunned for a moment, and then bolted, running as fast as he could, back to the treehouse, back home, as if someone might try to steal the prize he held within his arms. His mind was a blank as he ran; he simply cradled the stuffed toy in his arms. Finally he reached the old treehouse, and climbed up the ladder. Plopping down against the tree, he panted heavily, catching his breath.
Once he calmed, he sat the stuffed tiger on his lap and looked at it. It was very old, the fur was matted, but nothing a good bath couldn't fix. A few patches where missing however, as it looked like a mongrel got a hold of its tail. Most noticeable though, was the missing right eye. A few stitches hung loose, and around the socket was tattered; the plushie didn't lose this eye by accident, it was pulled by force. Calvin sighed at this. Other then that, the toy looked to be alright. Calvin studied the toy, trying to remember the past. Just how did this toy seem alive to him? It looked like a stuffed animal, nothing more.
"Hobbes…?" he said slowly. "Hobbes? Can you hear me…? It's me, Calvin… please… answer me…" he watched the toy, hoping for a response. None came. "Hobbes? Hobbes!" he gently shock the toy. Its head bobbed back and forth, and then hung limply. Calvin looked crushed. After all these years of hoping, and waiting, he sat, looking at the toy. "Maybe it's not him after all…" Calvin whispered, emotions welling up inside him. "Maybe… maybe the counselor was right… just an imaginary friend… that's all he was…" tears welled in his eyes. "That's all he was! Just a figment of a deranged child's mind!" Calvin tossed the tiger away angrily, right off the ledge of the treehouse. He curled into a ball, wrapping his arms around his legs, and he sobbed, letting his emotions break free. As he cried, he failed to hear the soft moan from below. The moan became slightly louder, causing Calvin to pause. Then a small, weary, yet all to familiar voice sounded.
"Hey… is that any way to treat and old friend you gooberbrain…?"