Just Lou

Started March 18 - ended March 28, 2021

The fortune teller at the fair was a little sharp, with somewhat of an attitude. Her hair looked matted and her eyes seemed to glow in the darkness.

It also looked like there were dark bags under her eyes, but that might’ve been the lighting.

I don’t want to be a fortune teller when I grow up, especially if I don’t get enough sleep or if I have nightmares summoned by evil forces from the future.

I don’t know why I went into the fortune telling booth. Maybe because the rest of the fair seemed crowded and smelled a little like old candy apples.

I don’t know why I felt like I didn’t belong at the fair that day, maybe because of the fact that the rest of the world had a best friend who didn’t move away over time and decided I was too strange or factual to be a friend.

I don’t know why the fortune teller greeted me like she had been expecting me, except for maybe the fact that she really could see the future.

After she greeted me, she told me to sit down on the stool at the small circular table with the purple tablecloth that matched her eyeshadow.

After I sat down, she asked me, “Would you like me to tell you your fortune?”

The fortune teller spoke slowly, with a little bit of an accent.

I looked at the glowing ball on top of the little stand. It wasn’t really a crystal ball. It was actually a Magic 8 Ball painted silver.

Then I looked at the fog machine in the corner that was supposed to be hidden by a sheet, used to “summon spirits.”

“Okay,” I said to the fortune teller.

The fortune teller smiled knowingly and tapped her fingers against the Magic 8 Ball.

“First, I need a dollar bill.”

I blinked.

“To summon spirits...”

I looked at her hard, but I handed her one.

“Now I must know your name.”

I didn’t want to tell her, but I did anyway, maybe because I was eager to see what this fortune teller could accomplish.

“Lou.”

“Ah. Lou...Wait-Lou? That’s not a name.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it is not...What’s your real name?”

“Lou.”

“Lou is not a real name!”

“Yes, it is!”

“Just Lou?”

“Yes!”

The fortune teller huffed out a small breath of air. She tapped her fingers agianst the Magic 8 Ball and closed her eyes.

As she tapped the Magic 8 Ball with one hand, she took the other and quickly tapped a button on the fog machine to turn it on.

“Fine. Lou...I see in your near future...a hairy animal.”

The fortune teller already talked slowly, and with the extra pauses, it felt like minutes had moved by.

Slowly, fog started collecting around the circular table and it waved around my ankles.

I watched the clock above the doorway move the minute hand before I asked, “An animal?”

“You heard me, did you not? A hairy animal is in your near future...”

“Tell me more.”

The fortune teller extend a hand. I sighed, but placed another dollar bill into her hand.

“This hairy animal...is large...and carries an umbrella-”

“What!”

“You are disturbing the spirits,” muttered the fortune teller.

I stood up.

“How can an animal carry an umbrella? Unless if it’s a monkey with adjustable thumbs than I don’t think that it can do that.”

“It’s what the spirits are telling me...”

“Your “spirit” is a fog machine!” I said suddenly, pointing at the fog machine that soon ran out of fog.

The fortune teller looked annoyed, and sputtered out, “What-no...That’s not...It’s not what you think-”

Then she straightened up and said through a breath of anger, “Get out! My spirits will haunt your living soul and wait in the darkness until they get revenge!”

I shrugged and walked out of the fortune telling booth.

I don’t have grudges against fortune tellers like how I have grudges against so called, “magicians” or “illusionists” or “Santa Clauses” at malls at Christmas time.

When I was younger, I didn’t believe in the type of stuff others did. I didn’t trust the fake Easter Bunnies at the mall or the fake Santa Clauses either.

Once, at a really big mall, my parents took me to see the “Santa Claus” who was hohoing as if his life depended on it.

When it was my turn to get onto his lap in grin like I was just awarded a million dollars, I just stood there.

I don’t know why, maybe it was becuase of the tall elves with white parkas. Maybe because I knew that the basket in front of “Santa’s” chair was actually full of old lollipops.

I just stood there staring, and the people behind us started getting all angry because we had already waited more than an hour. So the tall elves just grabbed me and plopped me on “Santa’s” lap and got the camera ready.

Just as the elf was about to say a pun about Santa and smiling, I tugged on the “Santa’s” fluffy white beard and down it went, right into my lap. Then the elf at the camera, who hadn’t expected that, snapped the picture and handed it to my parents real quick.

The fake Santa got really mad at me then, maybe because it was the one job he was getting well payed for with all the people. He quickly grabbed his beard from my lap and adjusted it on and started singing Jingle Bells like it would fix what everyone had just seen.

Well it didn’t.

All the kids in line started either crying or yelling at the parents as if it was their fault. So the parents started yelling at my parents, who snatched me off the stranger’s lap and walked out of the mall as quick as possible.

That Christmas photo of me on Fake Santa’s lap is always up, on the living room TV table.

Ever since the Santa incident, my parents hadn’t taken me to a mall to see some fake jump around or just stand still.

I don’t think they really minded though, because it costs a lot more money for a stranger to smile with your kid than I had thought.

The point is that I don’t like fakes.

I like the truth.

I like it when people can just admit whatever they can and as much as they can.

Then again, sometimes, when people tell the truth, it doesn’t always end well.

I waited about a week for spirits to haunt my living soul and get revenge on me.

Nothing ever happened.

No ghosts or fog appeared in my bedroom.

No clowns or tiny dolls came toddling after me.

Except for exactly two weeks after I went to the fair, a strange thing happened.

I was in my bedroom, thinking about stuff. A lot of times, I think too hard about things and my head hurts.

I was thinking about Krystal.

She used to be a friend of mine. We went to the same school, and we hung out most times. I don’t know why but we just drifted apart.

It was like how you’ve used your lucky pencil for a really long time. It’s your favorite and it’s always gotten your through each and every test. Then one day, you realize that it’s hardly usable. The eraser is flattened down on all sides, and the tip of the pencil isn’t even sharp enough to write your name.

That’s when you realize that you can’t ever use it again.

It’s like time passed by without even realizing and all that’s left is a pointless stub of it.

I had been lying in bed thinking continuously.

Sometimes when I think too much, I can’t get to sleep.

Eventually, I got tired of lying around and climbed out of bed. I walked down the hall and into the kitchen. I drank a glass of water, and that was when I realized the refrigerator was partly open.

I opened it slowly and looked inside. Inside was a big cat-like animal, cuddled in a ball. It had rabbit ears, a raccoon tail, whiskers, and big eyes.

Next to it was a black closed umbrella, on top of the tortillas.

“What on earth...?” I whispered.

“Salutations,” he said.

“Who are you?”

“Nio.”

I stared at him.

“What are you doing in there?”

“I’m looking for the tacos. Are there tacos in here?” He said, then pointed at his collar, which had a small taco on it.

I opened a cabinet and pulled out some taco shells. I then opened a package and handed them to him.

“Thank you.”

He took a taco shell and put a few leaves of lettuce in it, along with some sliced cheese. Then he took it all and stuffed it in his mouth.

“Mmmm. Thank you very much, Lou.”

“You know my name?”

“Of course I do. Your name is Lou and just Lou.”

“Just Lou,” I said. I couldn’t help but stare at Nio, who was cuddled next to a carton of ice cream. “That’s-that’s right.”

“Of course it is,” Nio said. “I would never get your name wrong.”

“You know me, but I don’t know you.”

“Just remember. My name is Nio. My favorite food is tacos. My left ear is a little longer than my right. I carry an umbrella in case of rain. I love to be in the cold.”

I closed my eyes, but there wasn’t much to remember.

“But you can’t be real. There is no such thing as a talking half cat, quarter rabbit, quarter raccoon.”

“Lou, anything can be anything. Anyone can be anyone. Do you understand?”

“Yes but-you aren’t real...Are you?”

Nio didn’t answer. Instead, he licked at his paw. “It’s getting late.”

“It is.”

I waited to see what he would do, but he just stared at me.

“Let’s go into your room so my tail can thaw,” he said finally.

I helped pull him out of the refrigerator, then we quietly walked down the hall and into my bedroom.

I woke up the next morning to find that I was alone in my bedroom. That was when I realized that the fortune teller was right. She said a hairy animal was in my near future.

Nio was a hairy animal.

Maybe not a known animal, but he was an animal of some type, that was for sure.

The fortune teller, the fake, was right.

I was sitting at the edge of my bed, closing my eyes, trying to remember.

Remembering is funny because you have to think hard to uncover it.

It’s like when you bury something somewhere and it’s up to you to find it. The problem is, you have to sit still and think to dig up all those old memories of you burying something into the ground. You don’t know how you’re going to find the something that’s sitting in the ground, but you know it’s up to you to find it.

I breathed in the smell of my bed, my clothes, even my hair. Then I breathed out memories, thinking hard.

I was sitting in the grass in the memory. It was a week after Krystal had moved away. The air had that strange smell, the smell of grass and just plain nature. The wind was slowly scooping up fallen leaves, and suddenly popped up a kitten, with rabbit ears, a raccoon tail, whiskers, and big eyes.

It was Nio.

Holding a large umbrella.

The only strange thing about him was that he was smaller, more fragile, more...cute.

I remember him meowing and waving, and I waved back.

He asked me if I had tacos at my home.

I told him we did, and that we always have Taco Tuesdays at our grandparents’ house down the block.

Nio said that sounded sensational, and then he said he would stay with me for a while.

He asked me if I would pick a name for him.

I don’t know how I picked the name Nio, none of my relatives were named Nio, and I never had a dog or cat named Nio either, but I told him Nio was a nice name, and he liked it.

I remember asking him if he was my friend.

He said yes.

I then asked him if we would be friends forever, and have tea parties with my stuffed animals.

Nio said yes, we would be friends as long as possible, then said he would join me at the tea parties, so long as there were tacos that went with the tea.

Nio was outside, chasing his tail around and around in circles.

“Hi Nio,” I said with a wave. I sat down in the grass and breathed in the nature smell.

“Hi Lou.”

“Nio...”

“Yes?”

“Are you...”

“Am I...?”

“Are you my imagination?” I finally said with a sigh. “No one else can seem to see you. You aren’t any known creature-”

“Lou, didn’t I tell you anything can be anything and anyone can be anyone?”

“Yes but-maybe not in reality.”

“Lou...”

“Okay. Yes, I understand. But Nio...I think you’re my imagination. Aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I? Hmm. Well yes. I am your imagination.”

“So no one can see you.”

“Other than you,” he added.

“Other than me,” I said smiling.

I looked at Nio and at his big black umbrella.

“Nio, I remember the first time I met you. You were smaller.”

“Imaginary friends grow, just like you.”

“Why did you leave me, Nio?” I whispered. “Why are you here again?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe I will soon,” he said.

I sat there in silence.

I didn’t know if he meant it to the first question or the second.

Nio was imaginary, but sometimes he seemed so real.

He always seemed to have an appetite, even when I didn’t. And sometimes, he seemed so calm, even when I was angry or stressed or scared. And whenever it rained, he propped up his umbrella, even when we biked down to the beach, he held up his umbrella in case of a wave as tall as him.

Nio was around for almost two weeks, and the more time I spent with him, the more I remembered.

I remembered the time we played at the lake and together we sailed in Nio’s big umbrella.

I remembered nights when I would wake up in the middle of the night during adq thunderstorm and Nio would be there, knitting or most times purring softly, cuddled next to me.

But when you remember things, you tend to remember other things as well. And as I remembered everything I could about Nio, I ended up remembering Krystal.

Krystal always knew what to say. You could say she was good at lying, but that’s half a lie. If someone asked her where she got all her money from before purchasing something expensive, she’d say she had a lot of grandparents. Half of the truth was that she did have a lot of grandparents, of course the other half is that her parents had a lot of money and gave her large allowances.

I know it’s just one example, but it puts a whole different perspective on her.

Another thing about Krystal was her being complicated and a little confusing. Sometimes she was upset, sometimes she was happy.

The point is that Krystal was my best friend. Most times it felt like nothing could ever split us up. Other times...it was different.

It was like a pair of scissors snapped the string that held us together.

It was like an Oreo being pulled apart, each of us being the outside and the filling being our friendship.

It was like suddenly, we had just grown too old for each other.

I don’t know what happened. Maybe part of it was because Krystal moved away. Maybe it was because I was too factual as she once told me. Maybe it was just because we were growing to old for each other.

It hurt my head to think about it all but I had to think about it.

I remember the day when Krystal moved. She told me her family would drive down the street to wave goodbye. I sat outside my bedroom window, watching for her parents’ car to roll down the street.

I waited almost an hour, counting the seconds go by and all the birds I saw sitting in the trees.

By the time I had waited almost two hours, I gave up and set an old phone on the windowsill. I started a video, and left to go have lunch.

When I stopped it before bed, I fast forwarded the video, hoping to see Krystal’s car. I saw white cars, black cars, even a green car drive down the street. I saw a few minivans, a couple trucks, and a school bus.

But the one car I didn’t see was Krystal’s.

I always thought life was somehow better with a friend. When you have siblings, it’s like they’re your friends. But when you don’t have any brothers or sisters, it’s almost perfect to have at least one best friend.

I don’t know why I liked Krystal so much. She wasn’t entirely famous or popular. I thought she was just like me, funny, a little weird, and excited.

Sometimes she thought I was too factual. Like the time a magician came to our school. I found out where the card went, and where he was also holding the stuffed rabbit that he supposedly dropped into his hat.

I’m not saying I was trying to ruin it for everyone else, I just knew there was something off.

I remember when Krystal gave me new address.

A couple days after she left, I wrote her a letter asking her how she liked her new school and house.

I put a heart sticker on it and mailed it immediately.

After a week of nothing coming back, I thought it just took a while for mail to be sent. After two weeks, I asked my parents how long it would take to send a letter to Krystal’s new house.

They told me a little longer than two weeks.

After three weeks of nothing coming, I wrote another letter, asking if she got the previous one.

I mailed it, and waited.

After two months of nothing coming back, I wanted my mind to think they got lost, but my mind never let that happen.

I couldn’t go to sleep.

It was cold in my room, and even a thick blanket couldn’t change the icy thought of Krystal.

I tried to keep my mind away from anything related to her, the friendship necklace, the magician at our school, her missing car, the photo booth picture of us both making goofy faces at each other, even the rock she gave me from her cruise.

I sat up and looked at Nio, who was sitting in the beanbag chair at the foot of my bed.

“Nio?”

“Yes, Lou?”

“What’s it like to be imaginary?”

“It’s like being a best friend, Lou. You commit to it.”

“Not everyone commits to it,” I added.

“That’s true,” he admitted.

The next morning, Nio said I should write a letter to Krystal.

“Maybe Krystal misses you just as much as you do.”

“But what do I tell her?” I asked, fidgeting with a pencil.

Nio took a long deep breath and licked his paw. He stared at me and licked his paw some more.

“Tell her about what’s most important to you.”

I nodded, then I got out a piece of paper. I sharpened a pencil and put the tip on the first line.

“Nio?”

“Yes, Lou?”

“What if she doesn’t care? What if she thinks I’m weird or crazy or-”

“Lou, friendship is messy, just like a taco. Just like life. While life is going by, taco shells may break in fear, and the filling and all those feelings might come out. The only way you can keep life going when your taco shell breaks is to grab a spoon and make a taco salad.”

I smiled at Nio, who was cuddled in a ball and purring.

I took a breath of air and put pencil to paper.

Dear Krystal,

Hi. It’s me, Lou. How’s your new school? I know it’s been almost two years of going to the same school, so things might be normal now, but I hope you don’t mind me asking.

I have an imaginary friend. His name is Nio. I don’t know how I came across that name, or why he’s so smart.

He says he doesn’t know why he came to me, but I’ve been trying to remember. While I’ve been remembering Nio, I’ve also been remembering you, too.

Like the time we went on the Spin Wheel together after eating a candy apple. That was also the day we took photo booth pictures. Do you still have your photos?

Sincerely, Lou

After writing the letter, I put it in an envelope and slowly put it in the mailbox.

I went back inside to see Nio, smiling at me.

“Thank you, Nio.”

“You’re welcome, Lou.”

I waited almost a week of biting my lip and trying hard not to get my hopes up if Krystal wouldn’t write back.

Just two weeks later, I went to the mailbox and pulled out the mail. Bill...bill...advertisment...postcard from our aunt and uncle on a cruise. The last thing I found at the bottom of the stack was a letter, printed, “To Lou.”

I ran back inside and into my room.

“She wrote back!”

“Krystal did?” Nio asked.

“Yes!”

I opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

Dear Lou,

My new school is okay, thanks for asking. I’ve made a few new friend over the past year. I was so surprised when I got your letter. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, and longer since we’ve wrote.

I read your letter over three times before I started to write back. Do you really have an imaginary friend? I was so suprised to read that part of your letter.

If you really do have an imaginary friend, then I know where you got the name Nio from.

Do you remember the day at the fair? Not the day when we went to the photo booth but the day we got the friendship necklaces? The booth was called Nio’s Necklaces.

Yes, I do still have my photo booth pictures.

From, Krystal

Nio walked over to me and sat down next to me on the floor.

“She wrote back,” I whispered.

“She did.”

“Should I write back?”

“Yes.”

“What do I write?”

“Write about how you feel.”

I put my hand on Nio’s big paw and leaned agianst him, listening to the soft sound of purring and his raccoon tail thumping.

Dear Krystal,

I have a lot of questions.

Why?

Why does it feel like we’ve grow too old for each other?

Why does it feel like something just snapped, like when you pull too hard on a rubber band.

Why do I feel alone in the world?

Why do I feel scared?

Why do fortune tellers sound so scary, but the kind of scary that makes you excited and eager?

Why do parents get so angry when you prove the Santa Claus at the mall is really just some old man?

Why does it feel like you can be both alone in the world and also connected to everyone around you?

Why?

Sincerely, Lou

A few weeks later, Krystal wrote back. Along with the letter came a package too.

I sat down on the beanbag chair. Nio was in the laundry room, sitting on the running washing machine because he said it made him feel calm.

I opened the letter first.

Dear Lou,

I don’t know why it feels like we have grown too old for each other. Maybe becuase just like a rubber band, friendship stretches and eventually, it snaps.

I don’t know why you feel alone in the world, or why you feel scared. I can tell you this though, you’re not alone. I feel alone in the world too, and I’m just as scared. I’m scared about failing that quiz on Monday and about all those rumors that spread all around the school. And it’s not just me and you either. Adults are scared too, scared about spending too much on groceries, scared to admit they can’t do something.

Everyone feels alone in the world but just as you feel the most worried, you learn that there is someone just like you in the world who is worried and alone.

As for everything else, I don’t know about it. Fortune tellers? Santa Clauses at malls?

But I do know that you aren’t alone, Lou.

From, Krystal

By the way, hopefully there’s a package that came with my letter. I hope you like it!

I put down the letter and opened the package.

Inside was a picture in a square picture frame of Krystal and me sitting at the picnic table at Southeast Park.

We were both in second grade at the time, smiling like we had said something funny before the picture was taken. Krystal’s arm was casually draped over my shoulder, and was squinting because of the sun. I was standing squished next to her, and even though she was sitting and I wasn’t, she was still a head taller than me.

We both were smiling so big, our smiles spread across both our faces, and you could see almost all our teeth, except for my missing top tooth.

On the back of the picture frame, in Krystal’s mom’s handwriting said, “Bestest Of Friends At Southeast Park”

Bestest of friends. I put the picture frame and letter into a shoe box under my bed, and placed it next to the other letter Krystal wrote. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. When I opened my eyes, nothing was any different.

Later that night, I found it hard to go to sleep. I couldn’t help but stare at the ceiling and all the glow in the dark stars I had stuck up there.

Nio was back in my room, looking out my window.

“Did Krystal write back?”

“She did. She said I wasn’t alone, Nio. She said I wasn’t the only one to feel worried and scared. I’m not alone.”

“You are never alone, Lou. I will always be right here with you.”

“Is Krystal going to be my friend again?” I whispered into the darkness. I sat up and looked at him.

Nio pawed at the window, then he looked at me.

“I don’t know, Lou.”

“You never know Nio,” I said as I lay back down.

Nio didn’t answer.

When I sat back up, he was gone.

The next day, Nio wasn’t curled up at the foot of my bed. He wasn’t on the washing machine or hoarding taco shells from the kitchen cabinet. He also wasn’t outside, chasing butterflies or sleeping in the sun.

I searched the entire house for him, even though it made me feel weird calling his name.

I couldn’t find him, even though I looked everywhere.

It was weird.

It wasn’t normal.

I went to the library and looked for a book about imaginary friends disappearing, but the librarians on duty thought I was a little kid since I had an imaginary friend.

I didn’t tell my parents about any of it, just because I couldn’t.

I don’t know why, it just felt strange, maybe even wrong.

When Krystal didn’t drive by my house, I didn’t go to my parents and ask them what I should’ve done. I just pushed it to the back of my mind and tried not to replay the memory in my mind. When I was in kindergarten, my favorite teacher Mrs. Gilder left.

When the subsitute came the next day, she told us to make Mrs. Gilder a card and to write about something we learned with her.

Everyone wrote about things she taught us to do, like to add or how to tie their shoes.

I wrote about how Mrs. Gilder taught me how  to remember. Not everyone got it, especially not the substitute. Some even thought I meant reminded because my words were all squished together.

Eventually, my parents found out and asked me why remembering was the one thing I wanted to put in my card.

I told them it was becuase it was the most important thing. It was the only thing that Mrs. Gilder taught only me, and it’s still even what I try to do now.

In Mrs. Gilder’s own words, “Remember Lou. Close your eyes and take deep breaths. Pretend you’re sorting through files in a secret room of knowledge. Focus on what you want to remember. If you’re trying to remember a bracelet, then remember the place you got it from, what the bracelet looks like. What sound it makes when it bounces on your arm when you run. Remember Lou. Remember.”

Nio was missing. He was like that one missing piece in the jigsaw puzzle. He was the one missing spice that made the soup taste completely different without it. Without Nio, life was like a tree without leaves. With him, it was like summer had come, and as he left, fall arrived, when trees seemed invisible and bare, and the air was frosty and cold.

Without Nio was like having a taco without the taco shell.

I tried my best to grab a spoon and scoop my life back together, but it didn’t feel the same. My life needed that crunch that a taco shell provided.

I finally decided to tell Krystal about Nio. I told her about how much I missed him and how life was like without him.

What she wrote back was,

Dear Lou,

I can’t believe Nio is gone. I’m sorry. You would think that you can imagine him there again, but it’s easier said than done.

My advice is to fill the hole that Nio left. Spend time with people. Do the things that Nio did with you.

Go to the beach. Ride your bike. Build a puzzle. Play in the rain. Draw. Just sit outside.

There are so many things you can do to help fill the hole. I know that Nio can’t be replaced but maybe you can spend time with other friends or family or complete strangers.

New friends, old friends, friends in between, anyone will understand and listen, Lou.

From, Krystal

I set down the letter and took a deep breath. Talk to friends or family or a stranger.

I didn’t know any strangers, that’s why they call them strangers. My family would think I was crazy, even without telling them.

And I didn’t have any friends.

The friend I had was Krystal, and she left me.

The other friend I had was Nio, and he left me too.

Eventually, I decided who I needed to talk too. I tried going to the beach by myself, but the cold fall air made the water feel icy, and the sand feel like mud. I tried drawing, but the only thing I could draw was Nio.

I also played in the rain, but eventually it turned into standing in the rain and letting tears roll down my face so it looked like it was just the rain and not me being crazy.

Being at the beach and drawing made tears come down just thinking of Nio while being there, but standing in the rain was the best excuse to cry and not let anyone know.

Soon, my tears dried up, even in the rain. I found it hard to cry while thinking about Nio. It was almost as if I had gotten over it.

But I didn’t want to get over it. I wanted to still miss Nio. I wanted him to come back to me, like how Krystal had.

So after a while, I decided who I needed to go to.

I walked there crunching on fallen leaves and looking at all the small details.

A woman wearing a striped dress with two pockets watering her saplings and flowers. An old man whistling softly to the tune an old TV show. An orange striped kitten climbing a tall tree while also pawing at a falling leaf.

When I got to the fair, I tried hard not to look lonely. Once again, almost everyone there was with a friend, smiling and laughing. I passed by the Spin Wheel, past the candy apple cart, and past the photo booth.

When I got to the fortune telling booth, I walked inside.

The fortune teller was in the same spot as before, this time wearing a lavender shawl on top of her long, deep blue dress.

“Ah, Lou. Sit sit. What brings you here?”

Before I could answer, the fortune teller spoke again.

“Ah-let me find out for myself.”

She held a hand out, and I pulled out a dollar bill reluctantly. The fortune teller smiled and held the dollar bill up high in the air, then she tucked it into her dress pocket. She hit the button on the fog machine and tapped her fingers on the Magic 8 Ball. She fluttered her eyelashes and hummed.

“Hmm. You have a question...Yes, a question.”

“You’re right,” I admitted.

“Go ahead. I might provide you an answer.”

I hesitated, biting my lip.

“No need for a dollar bill. Go ahead.”

“How did you know? You’re supposed to be a fake.”

“A fake?” Asked the fortune teller through a laugh. “Ohhh Lou. I am a fake.”

“Then how did you know about Nio?” I whispered.

“Nio...? Who is-”

“Nio is-was my imaginary friend. You said a hairy animal would appear in my near future, and carries an umbrella. Nio carries an umbrella. I don’t understand how-”

“Because I could see it in you,” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“I can see the imagination in those who have imaginary friends.”

“How?”

“I know from experience.”

“You mean...you had an imaginary friend?”

She nodded.

“Oops I named her. She always got into trouble, and loved kiwis.” The fortune teller took a deep breath. “I miss her.”

“Did she leave you?”

“You could say that, mostly she just disappeared as I healed over my feelings.”

“You never saw her again-after she disappeared?” I asked, twisting my fingers together.

“Not much, no. Why?”

I looked down at the knit carpet.

“He’s gone. It’s like he was never here. Like he left with summer.”

“Hmm. I see. Lou, I have faith that Nio will return.”

I looked her in the eye to see if she was lying, but it didn’t seem like she was.

After I left the fortune telling booth, I decided to go to the necklace shop. To be exact, Nio’s Necklaces.

Inside were a million necklaces on hooks and hangers. Nio, the owner, looked at me.

“Are you looking for anything in particular? Friendship necklaces over there, animals over there on that wall, and words on this wall. I’ll be at the cash register if you need anything.”

I smiled at him as he walked away, and turned to look at the animal necklaces. I touched the raccoon necklace, the cat necklace, and the rabbit necklace.

Somehow, I decided I needed the necklaces. I don’t know why I wanted those exact ones, but I felt connected to them. I was certain the only reason was because of Nio, even though I didn’t want to admit it.

I went to the cash register and handed the necklaces to Nio.

“Interesting combination,” he said, but took my money and gave me my change. “Would you like these in a bag?”

“No, that’s okay.”

Nio looked at me funny again, but handed me my necklaces. I put the necklaces on as I walked out, and as I did, I noticed someone at the candy apple cart.

For some reason, I pulled out a five dollar bill and went straight to the cart, dodging all the people crowded around. As I got closer, the person got more clear. It was like a magnifying glass, getting more and more clear through each step.

I stopped in front of the cart and pretended I didn’t see her. I handed the lady at the cart the five dollar bill and she handed me a candy apple.

Krystal stared at me as I took the apple and went to a bench nearby, while I pretended not to notice her, even though my mind was buzzing.

What was she doing here? She lived so far away, far enough we couldn’t even go to the same grocery store anymore.

I took a bite out of the candy apple and took a deep breath. I watched as Krystal walked closer with her candy apple and sat down. She looked both hesitant and calm, if that’s possible.

“Hi Lou,” she whispered. Hearing my name being spoken so calmly was like hearing Nio say it.

“Hi.”

Krystal turned towards me.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t much of a friend.”

I turned my head slowly and stared at her.

“Wasn’t much of a friend? When you moved, you made me feel like I was torn apart. I made up an imaginary friend so I wouldn’t be lonely and that still wasn’t enough. I needed a friend. You left me. You didn’t write back after almost two years of trying to get connected with you again. You made new friends while I sat in the lurch,” I said without thinking, and took a big bite of my candy apple.

“Nio was the one who convinced me to reconnect,” I said while chewing. “If you want to thank anyone, thank him.”

Krystal swallowed, thinking deeply.

“I’m sorry Lou. I was worried and scared and...angry. It took me almost a year to get used to things the way they were at my new school. It felt like no one understood me. No one knew as much as you do.”

I looked at the gravel.

“I didn’t feel like writing back becuase I had nothing to say,” Krystal continued. “Everything was different, and I felt awful. I couldn’t sleep that night thinking about how I left without saying goodbye the day we didn’t drive by your house. I’m sorry I left you alone when you needed me most.”

I bit my lip to stop everything from happening so fast, tears, hugging, smiling. I shook my head.

“I sat there for hours, waiting for you,” I said. “Even after that I tried explaining it but I could never get my words out. It felt like I was writing letters to a stranger.”

Krystal nodded. “I shouldn’t have lied. I was almost regretting being your friend at a time, but remembering you made it harder.”

My eyes got big. She didn’t want to be friends? At times I felt like we were enemies.

A tear slid down my cheek and onto my candy apple that was slanted on the wooden stick.

“Then why? Why didn’t you write back and why suddenly do you care?” I took a deep breath. “Is it all an act?”

Krystal shook her head.

“I want to be your friend again. I’ve missed you. It’s just harder to say out loud. Can you forgive me, Lou?”

I looked at everthing around me. The candy apple cart, Nio’s Necklaces, the Ferris wheel, the Spinner Wheel, the photo booth, the kettle corn cart, the ball tossing booth, the pie cart, the fortune telling booth.

Each desitnation told a story of where I had lived my life and what I had done throughout it.

I looked back at Krystal, who was staring at her candy apple.

“Yes. I can forgive you.”

Krystal and I spent the rest of the day walking around the fair, laughing and eating kettle corn from plastic cone shaped cup. We went on the Spinner Wheel, then to the photo booth afterwards to take pictures of our crazy hair. After the photos printed, we stared at them.

In one of them, I was smiling, and so was Krystal. Her arm was draped over mine, and she was still a head taller.

In another, we were making faces, Krystal sticking her tongue out and making her eyes go big, and I was crossing my eyes, a trick I had learned a long time ago.

In the last one, we were just laughing, like a joke had popped out just a second before the camera took the picture.

After that, we went to the ball tossing booth. Immediately, I could tell Krystal was going to win, just because of the way she cracked her knuckles and squinted at the three plastic cups set up. And right away, down went one, and quickly went down the two others.

The worker at the booth looked suprised, but handed her a panda stuffed animal with purple stripes and ears.

“If you want to win the giant panda right there,” the worker said while pointing at the panda hanging from a hook, “then you will have to spin the Wheel Of Precision and land on the blue fraction.”

Krystal looked eager, but just looking at the Wheel Of Precision, I knew it was rigged.

“So, are you interested?" The worker asked. "It only costs four dollars.”

Before Krystal could answer, I pulled her over and said, “It’s rigged. There’s no way to win.”

She didn’t look interested, but sighed.

“No, that’s okay.”

The worker shrugged and left to talk to another customer. Before I knew what was coming over me, I went to the booth and peeked behind the wheel. I was right: there was a magnet on the back with another magnet attached to the stick holding it up.

I spun it, and as expected, it landed on the fraction right before the winning one.

“Wow,” Krystal breathed, and laughed. “I have four extra dollars now. C’mon. Ice cream on me.”

I smiled and followed her out of the fair.

I was happy I felt connected with Krystal again, but it felt really weird.

I had spent two years thinking about Krystal, wishing I could just understand her like how I understood myself.

But it made sense now.

I had needed a friend, someone to be with to keep me company. It was like Nio was my substitute friend until the true friend came.

It made me frustrated to think about never seeing Nio again.

Somehow, it seemed strange. I wanted-needed to see him again.

He was a part of me. Without him, the world felt scattered.

No one was as wise as Nio. No one was as hungry as him. No one was as much as a cat as him, with his fondness for chasing butterflies and laying on his back in the grass.

Without him, I was lost in loneliness, even with Krystal.

Waiting for Nio felt like waiting for your birthday or a big event or even something you look foward to.

It felt like waiting for rain after years of nothing but dust. It felt like waiting for a special Christmas when finally it would snow. It felt like waiting for a day when everything would go right, and nothing could go wrong or be difficult.

It felt as though everyday, I woke up hoping that Nio would be there, pressing his nose against the window or curled up next to me. And everyday, I woke up disappointed.

One day, I woke up and suddenly had the idea that he might never show up again. It sounded weird, waking up to the idea of it, but I ended up deciding that it was really might happen.

I lived almost all of my life facing the truth. Santa Clauses at malls weren’t really real. The fortune teller at the fair didn’t really summon spirits, just fog from a fog machine. Luck and misfortune isn’t real, just good days and bad days.

Not only did I live my life facing the truth, but I also lived my life telling the truth itself.

So one day, I just decided to face the facts. Nio wasn’t coming back. He was just my imagination.

One day, I woke up and pretended like everything was fine. I put on some clothes and went down the hall. I ignored the washing machine as I walked by the bathroom, the washing machine Nio would sit on. I went into the kitchen and poured myself some cereal, also trying to ignore the cat shaped flakes that sat in the bowl.

After breakfast, I went straight outside. I breathed in the nature air and sat down in the grass, plucking at the small shreds of grass that came loose.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. When I opened my eyes, everything was still the same.

When I went back inside, I noticed the refrigerator door open. I opened the door wider, and realized that what was inside, wasn’t there before.

“Salutations Lou.”

“Nio?” I whispered, taking a breath. “It’s really you. What are you doing in here?”

Nio smiled.

“I’m looking for the tacos.”