The Real One

Mira had three imaginary friends. There was Bello, a purple elephant afraid of heights. There was Captain Salt, a pirate who had retired to become a librarian. And there was the tall one.

Jenny first noticed the tall one in Mira's drawings. Bello appeared frequently, a lumpy grape with legs. Captain Salt wore his hook on the wrong hand depending on the day. But the tall one was always drawn the same way: standing at the edge of the paper, proportions wrong, watching whatever scene Mira had constructed.

"What's the tall one's name?" Jenny asked.

Mira looked at the drawing. "I don't know."

"You made him up, sweetie. You can name him anything."

Mira's crayon stopped. She looked at her mother with an expression Jenny had never seen before, something working behind her eyes, some new calculation.

"I didn't make that one," Mira said.

"Of course you did."

"No." Mira's voice was patient, careful, the way she spoke when explaining something to her younger cousin. "Bello and Captain Salt are pretend. I made them up. That one was already here."

The air in the kitchen changed. Jenny became aware of the space behind her, the doorway to the hall, the angle of afternoon light that left the corner by the refrigerator in shadow.

"Already here where?"

"In the house. He was here when we moved in." Mira returned to her drawing, adding a tree. "I don't think he's imaginary."

"Mira”

"He's standing behind you."