Friend Freddy

Barret was a lonesome child. Being an only child agreed with some, but Barret was not among them. His mother Jeanette tried to set up playdates for him, but she still sensed a void.

There were children he got along with in his class, but they didn’t live nearby. Barret attended a school far from home due to his educational needs, and none of the boys in the neighborhood appreciated him. When Barret saw a commercial on TV for a life-sized doll called Friend Freddy, he felt it was made just for him. He was excited and begged for it only once, and in a more sincere tone of voice than Jeanette ever heard from her son, “Can I have one, Mom. Please?”

“Maybe for your birthday,” she said.

Barret was prone to tantrums and impatience—they were a trademark of his—but that noncommittal answer, belied by her smile, had him screaming with joy and running around the house for a few minutes. It had been a while since she had seen him so happy.

When Jeanette told her husband about Barret’s desired present, he was less than thrilled.

“Will, I don’t think you understand. When I said, ‘Maybe for your birthday’, he was happy. When’s the last time he wanted something and was happy to wait for it?”

Will knew the answer was long ago, if ever at all.

“He needs something to keep him occupied,” she added.

“But it’s not a person…and…”

She cut off whatever he might have said. “He never had a bear or blanket or imaginary friend. He’s only had me. A boy’s best friend should not be his mother.”

Will was convinced. Two weeks later, Barret got Friend Freddy for his birthday.

#

Barret’s party was a family affair, with only some aunts and cousins attending. Mom and Dad agreed to that plan to camouflage the fact that no neighborhood kids wanted to come, and that the two kids from school he had invited couldn’t make it, Nathan because he tired easily and Luther because they couldn’t accommodate his many allergies.

Once Barret opened his present, he had no more interest in his party. Even his slice of cake had to be saved in the fridge for later. He carried Friend Freddy around, whispering in his ear like they had known each other forever—as if he wasn’t a doll. Barret renamed Friend Freddy ‘Coley’, as if he had the name picked out beforehand.

When he took the doll up to his room and laid him on the bed, he still had a smile on his face. After his mother tucked Barret into bed and kissed him, he asked her to kiss Coley too.

“That’s his name then?”

He nodded.

She was discomfited by this bit of simulacrum but didn’t feel like disobeying the birthday boy. She rationalized it by saying the novelty would wear off.

After Jeanette left, Will popped his head in and asked Barret how his birthday was.

“The best ever,” Barret said.

That made William glad. It also made him feel guilty for ever fighting his wife on the gift.

When he was alone, Barret glanced out the window and saw the North Star shining bright in the sky. It made him think of Pinocchio and that gave him an idea. After saying his prayers, he wished upon it that Coley could be a real boy so that he would have a real-life best friend.

Barret fell asleep and dreamt of playing freeze-tag with Coley.

#

When Barret awoke in the morning, he turned to face Coley.

“Hello,” Coley said to him, in a voice that spoke aloud instead of in his head. The very voice he’d imagined Coley would have. Barret saw Coley’s chest rise and fall. Coley’s jaw trembled. His face was turned upward, but his eyes took a side-glance. Barret believed what his eyes saw without question, as only a child could.

“My wish came true!” he said, amazed.

Barret lowered his voice as he finished the sentence, unwilling to call attention to this.

“Coming true,” Coley corrected him. He tried to move but his body was still stiff. Coley wobbled back and forth. Barret saw it now.

“How long will it take?” Barret said, a little too loud. Coley gestured for him to keep his voice down with his right hand. It only moved up and down, not side-to-side.

“I don’t know.”

There was a knock at the door. Barret had never felt a bolt of fear shoot through him like that in his six short years on Earth, but he knew innately he would never forget it.

“Barret, I slept in!” his mother said, in an amiable, trying-not-to-panic voice. “Are you up?”

“Yes,” he squeaked.

“Good. Get dressed and I’ll let you have cereal for breakfast. You can do it; you’re a big boy.”

Barret didn’t feel like a big boy. He felt like he wanted to laugh and cry. He didn’t want to keep this secret from his mother, but he knew he had to. Big boy or not, he could get dressed.

“Can you stay and be quiet?”

Coley did not answer.

“Can you?” Barret repeated.

“I was.”

“Oh,” Barret said, relief flooding his voice.

That relief, and the joy of wish-fulfillment, evaporated as soon as he arrived at school. He was a little late and saw everyone gathering around the teacher. He tapped Luther on the shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“Miss Rosie has an announcement.”

They stood in a semicircle.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed Nathan’s not here,” she began. “His mother spoke to me recently and informed me that he’ll be out of school for a while. Some of you might remember from last year he was sick for a while with something called leukemia. It left for a bit, but it’s come back. I’m saying this so we can send well-wishes, because Mrs. Nguyen said knowing all of you were rooting for him pulled him through last time.”

Barret was saddened to hear about Nathan. They made cards and he did not think of Coley until he got home.

#

When Jeanette went in to straighten Barret’s room, before starting her shift as a cashier, she thought Friend Freddy looked more lifelike than she remembered. When she moved him aside to make Barret’s bed, she thought he felt heavier.

I’m tired, she told herself.

She and Will were both so thrilled with how the anticipated gift went down, they’d continued celebrating Barret’s birthday well into the night.

When Barret returned to his room after school, and before either of his parents got home from work, he saw Coley looking more human than his mother had perceived.

“Is it still working?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Coley said, with great excitement. He raised his left hand and made a fist. Then he raised his right hand. His jaw was now still and he turned his head slightly.

Barret smiled without reservation.

#

A week later, what had been but a whispered rumor about Nathan’s condition was confirmed, as Miss Rosie announced they’d be sending another round of get-well cards.

Barret had been anxious to make one, but as he wrote it a weird sort of melancholy overcame him. When he first wrote Nathan a card, he felt a deep well of empathy. Now he felt nothing, and the words rang hollow. He couldn’t verbalize what he felt, but if he could, he would have said his words were platitudes.

It wasn’t that he wanted Nathan to be sick; it was more like he was no longer invested in his wellbeing, and he didn’t know why.

When Barret got home, Coley was excited because now he could sweat.

#

As days and nights faded, and Coley showed more humanity in small increments, Barret thought more about Pinocchio. He watched the movie more; it was already in heavy rotation. Each time a difference between Coley and Pinocchio made itself known to him.

First, Coley was a doll, not a marionette. Coley couldn’t move as well as Pinocchio had at first; still couldn’t a few months later. As far as Barret could tell, there had been no Blue Fairy involved. The wish was granted by the star, and the magic came from space, ready-made. That bothered Barret an awful lot.

Pinocchio was led astray, made mistakes, lied, had to do something to become a real boy. Coley, it seemed, didn’t have to. This bothered Barret even more, even if he couldn’t explain why.

One night, after lights out, Coley lay on his back and spoke to Barret in that mental whisper children share with their beloved playthings. It was a means of communication Barret hadn’t thought Coley needed anymore.

Nathan is almost gone and I’m almost here.

Barret didn’t know if Coley could hear the thought he had in response to that. What came into his mind was nothing about poor Nathan, but a continuation of his Pinocchio comparison.

Coley doesn’t have to leave and get in trouble because he has no parents.

Nathan’s next round of chemotherapy had lasted three months thus far. He’d missed two-thirds of the school year last year. No one in class thought he’d be back, but they all thought they’d see him again. How could Coley know?

Tidal waves of gooseflesh rippled down Barret’s body as he made the connection. His body slackened, his bladder voided, the bed wet. Barret was too terrified to move all night, either to get into dry clothes or strip his bed. In the morning, he showered on his own for the first time ever.

Jeanette and William were concerned, as he had never wet the bed before, but they decided not to mention it to him, exhibiting a particularly Eighties parenting philosophy. When there was no recurrence of the enuresis, they thought they had made the right decision.

What they failed to note was the desolation in Barret’s eyes. That was the visual clue that something was still wrong. What couldn’t be seen was that his stomach felt like it was full of wet concrete and his soul felt like it was being pulled in opposite directions.

On one hand, he was terrified that Nathan would die so that Coley could live. On the other hand, he did not want to lose Coley, no matter what.

#

Jeanette’s initial perception about Friend Freddy had been long forgotten—she had been picking up more and more shifts at the supermarket, as her manager was actually willing to let her become a full-time employee—so her straightening of Barret’s room was always harried. Checking to see if Friend Freddy had been urine-stained was the most she’d interacted with it in a while.

Since the mind-whispered update on Nathan’s health, Coley had seemed less lifelike to Barret. He thought for a bit that Coley was playing. Worry had so consumed him, he wasn’t paying much attention. He couldn’t stick to coloring; watching TV was just something to do so his parents wouldn’t think he was upset. He wasn’t following the stories, even of Bugs Bunny cartoons, but he knew when to laugh.

One night, Barret spoke to him aloud.

“Coley.”

Can’t talk, Coley said, mind-to-mind.

Barret misunderstood and thought Coley didn’t want to talk, not that he couldn’t.

“Never mind,” Barret whispered.

Coley thought about prodding Barret to speak, but he was too tired. Coley didn’t need food or drink; his breathing was just to indicate his being alive to Barret, but he did need energy of a kind and was running low on that.

The next day at school, Miss Rosie had the class gather round.

“Class, I have a surprise for you.”

In walked Nathan. He wore a knit cap to cover his bald head, but other than that he looked healthy. The class applauded. Barret’s applause was as vigorous as anybody else’s, maybe more so.

When Barret came back to his room that afternoon, he tossed off his bag and rushed over to the bed. He always told Coley about his day and was eager to share the news about Nathan, but he stopped mid-sentence. Coley looked every bit the Friend Freddy doll he had been when he’d received him on his birthday, except he was stiffer, paler, lips blued. Barret started weeping loudly, knowing by instinct that Coley was dead.

He was determined to fix it so his parents wouldn’t notice anything was wrong when they got home. He stashed Coley in his closet and played it cool. Watching ALF had prepared him for hiding an unknown entity from authority figures. After dinner and before his bath, he returned to his room. Looking out the window, he saw the North Star and wished his wish.

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight. I wish Coley were alive and a real boy—completely a real boy—when I wake up.”

#

When Barret woke, he was thrilled to find his wish had been granted. Lying next to him was not a doll, but a boy in doll’s clothing. Barret hugged him. He was excited. Only after his mother knocked and told him to start getting dressed did he realize that Coley being a real boy might be a problem.

“I can’t take you with me.”

“I don’t want to go to school.”

“Hide until after Mom comes to clean my room.”

“Okay.”

Barret hoped Coley would listen, but that was all he could do. Not having a Blue Fairy meant he had no reason to obey. Pinocchio had a reason, and look at all the trouble he got in.

When Jeanette came to straighten Barret’s room, she noticed Friend Freddy wasn’t on the bed. She took it to mean he was put away somewhere. Maybe Barret was protecting his favorite toy. That made her smile. Finding her son’s dirty clothing strewn about the floor made her smile wider; he wasn’t that grown up yet.

When she opened his closet door to toss his clothes in the hamper, her heart thudded in her ribcage and nearly stopped as Friend Freddy slid out. Booty-clad feet that had been held up by the door slid out from under him. He plopped onto his butt. She let out a yelp that covered the sound of a human backside landing on the ground with a thump. Without thinking, she tossed the dirty clothes like a pair of dice.

She laughed nervously and looked at Friend Freddy. The last thing she wanted to do was pick it up and put it back in the closet. Jeanette only spared it scant glances since it had come sliding after her. She just wanted to leave.

The doll looked changed again. For the first time in a long time, the toy unsettled her, and she was more conscious of that than ever before. Before, she’d thought it was more lifelike. Now, it looked heavy; asleep with its eyes open.

A bleating came from her watch. Time for her to leave if she wanted to beat the traffic. She dismissed Barret’s strange doll, leaving him plopped against the open closet door.

Time to make donuts, she thought to herself, as she closed the door behind her.

Barret had been a little late arriving at school, as usual. It was a hike, and the traffic was nightmarish. Walking up to the front of the school, Barret saw more parents than usual. They were all either escorting their kids up to the front door or stood talking in clusters.

Barret overheard a few snatches of conversation clearly.

“…he just ate it and he knew better, I heard…” one mother reported.

“…it’s so odd,” another agreed.

“Poor Lydia,” a third mother lamented.

Lydia? Whose mom is that?

When Barret got to his class, he saw most of the kids were sad too. He saw Nathan was on his own at a table. Barret tapped his shoulder.

“Nathan, what happened?”

“Luther died.”

Barret fell into his seat. Unable to understand it. Luther. Dead.

Just ate it… Knew better…

No, Barret! Luther can’t have peanut butter!

It was the first thing he’d learned about Luther.

Barret couldn’t just leave school, but he also didn’t want to leave. He just sat there. Somehow he had done this. He knew that.

#

Barret had never been so glad that both his parents had work than on the day Luther died. He might not have been able to contain his emotions, or hold his tongue, if they had both been there. It would be hard enough when they got back. He was sad, but he knew it hurt more and showed more because it was his fault.

He went up to his room and hugged Coley. Coley hugged back. Then he spoke words that both chilled and comforted Barret with their truth.

“I know you’re sad, but this is what you wanted.”

“Yeah,” Barret said nodding, sobs quieting, tears still flowing.

“You know what I want?”

Barret disengaged from the embrace, wanting to look Coley in the eyes.

“What?”

“Another friend.”

“Already?”

“It gets lonely during the day.”

Barret had no reply. He knew it had to be true.

“Christmas is coming soon enough,” Coley added.

Barret nodded. It sounded like a good idea.