First Friend

From Torg Adventure

First Friend

by Brett Slocum

Copyright 2011 brett.slocum@gmail.com

NOTES

Describe more, the tea set, what Ashley looks like, Jenny's feelings.

Present more differences between Miss Violet and Randy.

Make Ashley stronger, more bossy.

Make Jenny struggle accepting the ghost more. Tension was resolved too easily.

STORY

“What did you do this summer, Jenny?” Ashley asked on the first day of kindergarten. She seemed nice, and she was pretty too. She had dark brown hair in pigtails, an itty-bitty nose, and a quick smile. She smelled like flowers. We were coloring hot things red and cold things blue.

It was a new school, and Ashley sat next to me. She wasn't at all shy, talking to me right off the bat. I decided to be just as friendly. “I had a car accident. I slept for like the whole summer in the hospital.” I didn't tell her that Mommy had died in the hospital. I only talked to Daddy and the feelings doctor about that.

“Wow, that’s neat. Did you get ice cream? I got ice cream when I got ear tubes,” Ashley said.

“No, no ice cream. I had tubes in my arm that fed me. It was weird.” I made a sour face.

“You wanna come over to my house tomorrow?” she asked, smiling.

“Yes, but I have to ask Daddy first,” I replied. I was happy that someone invited me to their house. I hadn't made friends in the new neighborhood.

Daddy said okay. He grinned when he heard the news. He said he was glad I had a new friend.

The next day after school I went home on Ashley's bus. Her mom gave us mac and cheese and then milk and cookies. We went upstairs to play. Ashley was a little bossy when we played Chutes and Ladders.

"Jenny, this is Mrs. Parsons. She likes her tea with milk and honey," Ashley said as she poured nothing from the big round tea pot into a tiny tea cup, her pinkie pointing out, just like in the movies. Mrs. Parsons, the doll in the chair to Ashley's left, had a big head and shiny black hair. Her green eyes closed when you laid her down, and she had a sweet smile, almost as perfect as Ashley's. The tea set was one of the expensive ones Mommy had always looked longingly at, but said 'no' to buying, with fancy purple and yellow flowers painted on the white china.

I picked up a small spoon and dipped it in the empty honey pot that had Winnie the Pooh on the side. Ashley waved her little finger at me as a reminder. I lifted my pinkie and put the spoon into Mrs. Parsons' cup, as Ashley poured imaginary milk from the creamer. As I put the cup in front of Mrs. Parsons, I got cold and my neck prickled.

The tea cup across from Ashley rattled for a few seconds. Ashley looked up at the noise toward the empty chair across from her and said, "Welcome, Miss Violet. This is my new friend, Jenny. The usual, Violet? Tea and sugar?" She poured from the tea pot into the cup. The tingling cold made me shiver a bit.

"No, you dumb girl!" The voice was clear and gruff -- a boy's voice. I sat still, too scared to move. Where was the boy that spoke? Ashley hadn't mentioned a brother that might be hiding somewhere. I looked at the empty chair. The air wiggled a little, like the air above the stove when it’s red hot. The tea cup clattered again. Ashley spooned invisible sugar into Miss Violet's cup.

"Here you go, Violet," Ashley said, pushing the cup and saucer closer to the empty chair.

"I'm not Violet. I'm Randy, you stupid girl!" The boy was very angry.

I stared at the empty chair, sometimes seeing the wobbly air, sometimes not. I dug a finger into my ear, trying to get the voice out. Nobody was there to be saying these things. My tummy hurt, because he sounded so mad.

"How do you want your tea, Jenny?" Ashley asked.

I was frozen, looking at the empty chair. Finally my mouth opened and it just burst out. "Did you hear something, Ashley?" I said, ignoring the question. "When you talked to Randy, I mean, Miss Violet?"

Ashley leaned toward me, cupping her hand next to her mouth. "Miss Violet is in...vis...ble. She doesn't talk either," she whispered with a little mean in her voice, her grin now fake. I looked at her, not smiling at all. That's how they talk to stupid people on T.V.! She thought I was stupid! Ashley continued, "She's my friend. Daddy thinks she doesn't exist, but I know she does."

"Wait! You called me Randy! You can hear me?" Randy said with relief and excitement in his voice. I could almost see a mouth floating above the empty chair. But his stern tone returned when he said, "Tell that stupid Ashley I hate tea parties. I hate tea. I want hot cocoa. Tell her!" I didn't know what to do, so I just sat there. My hands were fists and they hurt.

"Are you okay, Jenny? Nobody here but us. Have some tea." She poured me a cup and then put milk in from the pitcher. "Grammy says tea calms her nerves."

I was so mad at her for treating me like a baby. I knew what I heard. I remembered what the doctors said when I could barely move after waking up: 'Just relax your muscles and you'll feel better.' I relaxed and let my fists go. I felt a little better. I picked up the empty cup. My hands were afraid, so I was glad there was no tea in it. But my throat was sticky like peanut butter, and I wanted some real tea. I almost dropped my cup when Randy spoke again.

"She never hears me. I tried to tell her," he said in his gruff voice.

I sighed, brought the tea up to my lips, and slurped very loudly by accident from being nervous. Ashley giggled. Randy laughed and couldn't stop for a few seconds. I couldn't help, but snicker into my tea. My tummy felt better. My hands weren't afraid any more. Everyone relaxed. Ashley and I smiled at each other.

"Can I have sugar, too? Nana always puts milk and sugar in her tea," I said, ignoring Randy. Whatever was going on, I wanted Ashley to like me, and talking about Nana made me feel better.

"Certainly. One spoon or two?"

"Two," I answered. She pretended to put sugar into my cup and stirred it. I sipped again, silently this time.

"Hey, you can hear me, so don't ignore me," Randy said, a little mad. "Ashley does that, and I hate it! She can't hear me, so I guess it's okay. But you can. You have to talk to me. Nobody else can hear me. Tell Ashley that I hate tea parties. All she does is tea parties and play with dolls. She won't play ball or dig outside or nothing."

Randy just wanted to do something else. He wasn't being mean. I couldn't think what to do without Ashley thinking I was strange. So I just sipped tea for a minute. Then I got an idea.

"Ashley, I like throwing the ball with Daddy and helping him dig in the garden. What do you like to do?"

"I like making cookies with Mommy. The kitchen smells so yummy."

"I just wanna eat 'em." Randy smacked his lips.

I giggled. I was glad he was being funny. "Miss Violet has finished her tea," I said and picked up an unused pot from the table. "Here, have some hot cocoa. Ashley made it special for you."

"Hey, I'm still not Violet, but thanks for the cocoa." I could barely make out a hand lifting an almost visible cup. He seemed less angry.

"You're welcome, Violet. Thanks for playing with me."

Ashley leaned toward the large doll. "What's that, Mrs. Parsons? You want some cocoa, too? Okay. Jenny, would you hand me the pot?"

"Here, Ashley. Careful, it's hot."

"Hey, you're all right, Jenny," Randy said. I could barely make out his outline. I smiled. "I like when someone hears me. You can even call me 'Violet' once in a while. But just for Ashley."

"Well, Miss Violet, I'm glad you like your hot cocoa. I like you, too." I turned toward Ashley and giggled. She grinned and sipped her tea.

"Jenny, can I come over to your house tomorrow?" Ashley asked.

"I'll ask Daddy when he comes to get me, but I'd like that."

"I'm tired of staying with Ashley. Can I go home with you tonight?" Randy said, sounding hopeful. He wasn't mad any more.

"Yes, Miss Violet. You can come over too. You should get out more. You're very pale." I thought I saw him smile when I said 'yes'. I couldn't wait to talk to him with nobody around.

"Could you pass me some cookies, Jenny?" Randy laughed. His transparent arm pointed at an empty plate to one side. I saw his eyes and grinned.

Picking up the plate, I said, "Mrs. Parsons, have a cookie. You can have one, too, Violet." I offered the plate to our guests.

After the tea party, Daddy came to take me home. Ashley didn't notice Randy leaving with me, and Daddy didn't see him sitting in the back seat next to me.

Ashley visited the next day. We played in the garden. Randy dug and raked and hoed and watered, but Ashley didn't like getting dirt under her fingernails. We stopped after we barely got started. I didn't even try playing catch with her. When we had a tea party, she looked up when Randy's cup clicked against the saucer, while I was filling Ashley's cup.

"When did Miss Violet come over here?" Ashley said, the anger in her voice rising. "She's my friend! You stole Miss Violet!" Ashley shrieked. She stood up and pushed me, then started crying. "You're not my friend! You just wanted Violet for yourself! I hate you!" Then she ran out of the house, bawling.

I didn't know what to say. She was right. I did steal Randy sort of, but I didn't mean to. He wanted to come home with me.

Daddy came up to find out what was wrong.

"She doesn't want to be my friend anymore," was all I could say. I pouted on the floor. He went to check on Ashley.

"Hey, Jenny, it's okay. I'm still here. I like it here," Randy said. I felt a feather light touch on my shoulder, almost like a mosquito, but not itchy. Then I could feel Randy hugging me to comfort me. I let him and cried for a long time.

Daddy said Ashley's mom picked her up, when he came back a little later. Randy and I talked late into the night when I should have been asleep. He said the last thing he remembered was climbing the tree in Ashley's backyard before she moved in. He couldn't get anyone to see him or talk to him after that. He played with Ashley because she was the only kid he could find until I came along. He said he would wake me up if something bad happened.

Ashley didn't speak to me again at school. She ignored me every chance she got.

I made other friends, but Randy was my first friend.

Copyright 2011 Brett Slocum, brett.slocum@gmail.com. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.