The Pillow Fort

The monster shouldn't have done that. Of course the castle walls weren't strong enough to stop such a big monster, but it didn't need to prove it. And, come on, rebuilding isn't going to make this any better.

He'll get over it. He always does. For now, he throws the pillow walls around the room, which scares the cat, but there's no need to scold him because he's right about this one.

"Monsters don't think first," says the monster in a monster voice. But the monster has already transformed; the voice is false and out of place.

A snack helps, sort of. It's hard for him to swallow the chunks of granola bar while he's still sniveling.

Thomas and Puzzles

            Thomas liked doing puzzles and the other kids thought this was weird so they were little shits and made fun of him and called him names. Riddle me this, they said and Thomas told them riddles and puzzles were different, but they didn’t listen or didn’t care. A boy named Connor was kinda tough, so he took a marker from his backpack, one of those permanent markers that kids weren’t supposed to have in second grade, and drew big X’s all over Thomas’ book of puzzles. It was only one of those cheap puzzle books printed on recycled newspaper they sell at the grocery checkout, but Thomas got real mad and grabbed the marker and started scribbling all over the Connor’s polo shirt.

            The polo cost a lot of money and Connor’s parents made Thomas’ parents pay for it. Thomas’ parents bought a few more puzzle books too, which was good because he didn’t have many friends the rest of the year. Sometimes one of the kids would act like he was friends with Thomas but they’d just want him to do their math homework or something. Or they’d been dared to go eat lunch with The Riddler. But a dare wasn’t enough to get a kid to sit with Thomas, so they’d be paid with Oreos.

            When the carnival came to town Thomas didn’t want to go because he didn’t want his parents to hear the other kids call him The Riddler. But they made him, like, pulled him from his room and stuffed him in the car. They were starting to worry that he did too many puzzles and couldn’t have fun like a regular kid. He didn’t want to go on any rides and his parents didn’t want him to make a scene so they just walked around all night. His dad won a stuffed frog when he threw a dart at a balloon and the balloon popped and there was a piece of paper underneath that said stuffed frog.

            Thomas hugged the frog while they looked at cotton candy being gathered on a paper tube. His parents stood in line and waited for the guy to make some more and Thomas wandered to another game. It was the one where you could shoot a little target with a BB gun. He didn’t look at the prizes or anything; he just wanted to play.

            There was a little slot for coins to go in and Thomas put down the frog and found a few quarters in his pocket. He took a few practice shots and then turned to Connor who was playing the same game and hadn’t noticed Thomas. The gun didn’t work right when he tried to shoot him in the face, but Connor still flinched and pissed in his pants a little bit. A few people saw but no one said anything.

            Thomas went back over to his parents who were still standing by the cotton candy. They were talking kinda quiet considering it was such a loud carnival, and they hadn’t noticed he’d been gone. He said he wanted to go on a few rides now.

Piglet

His name was Piglet. Like, right there on his birth certificate.

No one teased him, though. He was tough before he even knew what being tough meant.

I chipped my tooth the first time I hung out with Piglet. Even now, I still say it was my fault. Piglet made that clear.

A month ago, I tracked him down. He wasn't hard to find on Facebook with that name. From what I could tell, he was normal, so I sent him a friend request. I thought that would be the end of it.

I got a message from him the next day. He said we should meet sometime since we lived in the same city and all. I didn't want to, but I didn't want to say no either, so I agreed.

We met on a Thursday afternoon at a bar he knew. The place had cable news on their tv's with the sound low, but you could hear it if you paid attention. I was half-watching a report about cancer and alcohol when I felt a firm slap on my back shoulder. Piglet kept his hand there and with the other he shook my hand enthusiastically. I found myself smiling.

"You want one?" I gestured to my beer.

"Naw. Thanks. Don't drink." He ordered a Shirley Temple like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"You know, I'm going to get one of those next time I'm in a bar," I said. I meant it.

"Delicious, right?"

He made friendly eye contact the whole time we talked, which normally would have made me uncomfortable. He laughed a lot at his own jokes, but they were funny so I found it endearing. We started crying with laughter once when he told a story about a guy we knew back in the day who had traded him a pack of cigarettes for his meatball sub. The guy put on, like, a hundred pounds in the last decade and, he swore, it all started back to that sandwich.

"Jokes on me though. I'm still smoking." I could tell from his voice.

I kind of wanted another beer, but didn't think it'd be proper etiquette when he was on a soft drink.

"Let's do this again sometime," he suggested.

I smiled as I agreed.

Piglet walked out with me. He was in the middle of another anecdote as I came up to my car, or, I should say, where my car had been. "... and so Tommy's got this sister, right, and she's—" he interrupted himself when he saw my expression. "What? What's wrong?"

"My car," I looked up and down the street as I felt my heart palpitate. "It's not here. I parked right here."

Piglet did a good job acting. I was convinced for awhile. The whole time he was talking about police reports and how the world is bullshit and all that. I was sold.

He lit a cigarette while we waited for the police. "And it was brand new, right?"

"How'd you know?"

He took a drag of the cigarette and made the same friendly eye contact he'd made before, "What do you mean, how'd I know?" he paused. "Facebook."

Johnny

Johnny brought Hostess snacks. The whole line of 'em — Hoho's and CupCakes and Snowballs and Twinkies and even Zingers. Even better, he always shared. A real gentlemen.

She ate it and they talked and he'd hold her hand. A real gentlemen. 

Other guys tried to pull it off, but they didn't have Johnny's charm. And it looked like they were trying to copy Johnny.

He wasn't the smartest kid or the funniest or the best at sports but he was the undoubtedly the coolest. He was invited to everyone's birthday party. Parents always said something afterward like, "That Johnny is such a nice young man." They were right. He was a real gentlemen.

Parties became less formal in middle school. The cool kids would meet up at someone's house after a dance or whatever and some people would make out and other people would talk about it later. Parents might have been home, but they were hip parents who kept out of the way, so making out was no problem.

Johnny got to second base sooner than anyone else I knew. Most people hadn't even had a peck on the cheek yet, but Johnny was feeling up an eighth grader, like, in front of everyone.

They'd been talking and flirting and he was a real gentlemen. He put his arm around her and she smiled. He was the coolest guy there and even though she knew her friend had a crush on Johnny, she let him keep it there.

He started talking about his hard-on before anyone else could. It was funny and we all laughed because, sure enough, he was pitching a tent in his pants. "Hey, it's not my fault," he said as he gave a little squeeze to the girl on his arm. She laughed and turned a bit red. He kissed her on the neck first and people made a whoa-oh cheering sound. Then he squeezed her breast in a playful way and people said, "Oh, Johnny!" Then she kind of let him kiss her on the mouth; he felt her body like he wanted to and people started to look away. Other boys hid their hard-ons and the girls didn't really know what to do. A pop song came on and everyone said, "Whooooo!" The girls started dancing and the boys wandered around. Johnny hi-fived a few of his friends and then they started snacking at a bowl of pretzels.