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Calvin can't even remember a time when Hobbes wasn't around. At six years old, he knows Hobbes is the kind of friend few will have, loyal and true. The kind who will help you hide a body, if only they knew where to find one. He should ask his dad about that, but most likely his dad would just give him the evil eye. Calvin wonders if people really do have evil eyes and if so, do they ever revolt against their better owners and try to pop out of their heads, jump down their throats and choke them. When he asks his mother this, she just says, "Calvin, please stop playing with your olives and eat them already." Then she goes into the other room, where Calvin can hear her saying "It's only a week until school. You can handle it. He'll be their problem then, for a whole 5 hours a day." It's only recently that he's noticed her going off to talk to herself, which is weird, but she doesn't have a friend like Hobbes to confide in. It's too bad. Tigers are excellent company.
At ten, his teachers still give him that same tired look, or make him into the example of what not to do, or just sit at their desk looking like they want to cry - or possibly drink like those people on daytime TV -- and he gets a string of bad report cards, too.
It isn't that he tries to be bad, it's just that Hobbes is an impatient sort, and there's a world out there to explore. Everyone knows that it takes years for stuff to get into a textbook, and by the time it does, it's out of date. He doesn't want to miss out on all the cool stuff going on, just so he can learn about whatever boring things happened when his dad was a kid a thousand years ago. Besides, you try to stop yourself from leaving when a tiger grabs you.
His parents send him to a special doctor - an Educational Psychologist --, and Hobbes bravely prevents her from giving Calvin a shot. In fact, Hobbes is so convincing that all she does is make him play with some weird blocks and funny pictures, and asks him questions like in those memory games Roslyn brings over when she babysits. It's a little lame, but kind of fun, and Hobbes helps him cheat by whispering answers in his ear.
A few days later, they go back to visit her. He doesn't know why. He could have played more exciting games at home, especially if his dad would relent and let them take the tires off his car and build that obstacle course he'd been imagining.
The doctor tells them he's got something called Eighty H-D, and gives him some pills to take for it. He wonders how many HD's a kid is supposed to have, and what it means that he has 80 of them. He doesn't feel sick, but maybe he is, and if he's lucky he'll get to stay home from school. If he's even luckier, they'll raise money for him on TV and he can get parts for that new tele-porter he and Hobbes started to build.
She says it'll be just like taking his vitamins, but as far as he can see, these pills don't look like cartoons. The pills are called Ritalin, which sounds too much like Rosalyn for his liking.
Calvin doesn't think the pills ae doing much. His mother gives him one when he wakes up, and he has to go to the nurses office every day for his next one. It's kind of a pain because he's always in the middle of Science when he does it, and he hates missing out on what might be the experiment that blows up the school.
A few months later, he can sit through a class without disrupting it, but he still keeps Hobbes in his backpack under his desk, and doodles secret messages to him in the margins of his textbooks when he finishes his work.
Twelve years old, and they put him in the Gifted program, and say if he keeps up the good work, he might get to take math and science classes at the high school. He wins a scholarship to Space Camp, and is disappointed, if not surprised, to learn they don't actually go there. Even though he knows it's impossible, there's a part of him that wished he really could go into space. Sadly, it's not as easy as stepping into a box.
His old babysitter Roslyn, now an elementary -education major at the local university tutors him. She's still a cruel taskmaster, but at least now he can suppress the urge to slip out the window when she's around. She must be doing some good. He manages to get an A on his Viking ship diorama, even though Hobbes tells him the Vikings would have been cooler if there had been a tiger aboard ship.
"It would have taken care of that pesky rat problem," he gripes. Sometimes he's too noisy for Calvin to get anything done, so he keeps him in his locker most of the day. Hobbes says it's stuffy and smells like socks in there, and the tuna sandwiches are moldy. Calvin tells him to chill, he'll get to him when he's done with his work.
By fourteen, Calvin's longstanding fear of being pounced by his best friend has turned to happy anticipation. The pouncing has changed, too.. Hobbes is wild and eager, and teaches him things Calvin's parents would be shocked to know he knew. There's something to be said about being home all day, and able to get around the NetNanny. They play games that beat the Transmogrifier and childhood time travel by a mile. Sledding off that 3 foot cliff had felt like a leap into the great unknown when he was six, but it's nothing compared to the rush he feels when Hobbes touches him. That to everyone else Hobbes iss just an toy means nothing. Calvin knows the truth, and it hasn't changed just because he's older now and doesn't talk about him in front of people. He also doesn't carry Hobbes to school anymore. What people don't know won't hurt them. Calvin's learned how to fit in, or at least how to pretend to.
He and Susie are sixteen when they try the dating thing, but he knows from the start it's as fake as her old tea parties. They go to homecoming together, mostly because both their families push them into it. Separating almost as soon as they'd walked into the gym, Susie -- Sue, now--spends most of the night with her friends from Model U.N, and Calvin hides out in the third floor boys bathroom.
His former nemesis, Morrison, "Moe" Turner is there too, proving with the offer of half a pack of Camels, a thermos of doctored punch and a blowjob that he's inclined to be friendlier than he was when he used to beat Calvin up for his lunch money.. Perhaps turning nineteen has given him some semblance of maturity.
Calvin turns down the cigarettes, but accepts the rest, reciprocating with a hand job. Moe is big -- all over-and Calvin feels kind of powerful doing this for him. They'd talked about sublimating feelings in his psych class that week, but Calvin didn't think he ought to bring that up with Moe.
He comes home feeling more abnormal than ever, sure that he's an even bigger freak than he'd imagined. But try as he might, he just can't pretend to be something he's not. And he's never going to be what people expect of him. He doesn't want to play on a team, or date any of the stupid girls in his class. The way he felt with Moe makes him pretty sure he doesn't want to date girls at all.
"Why are you still here?" Calvin asks miserably. "I'm such a fuck-up my only real friend is a stupid stuffed tiger."
"Friends don't abandon each other, Calvin, don't you know that? I'll be here 'til you no longer need me." Hobbes' furry arm wraps around Calvin's slumped shoulders. "Besides, I'm not too good with a can opener, and I do love my tuna-fish sandwiches."
He leaves for MIT the week before he turns eighteen, and it's the best thing he's ever done. He find friends there, and none of them make fun of him for bringing his old stuffed tiger. They're all too smart not to be weird, too.
The first guy Calvin ever fucks, is a tall runner with a shock of orange hair and a penchant for striped shirts. His name is Timothy Hobson, but everyone calls him Hobbes. Calvin takes this as a sign that things will work out for them. That, and the fact that he's a tiger in bed.
Epilogue: Calvin - his newly minted doctorate in hand - brings both Hobbes' back to see his parents before they start their new jobs in Colorado. His folks wouldn't understand what it is he's going to do, and he's not allowed to tell them, anyway. Another galaxy. He can hardly believe it's real.
He hopes this Dr McKay won't be as terrifying a boss as rumor has it. He also hopes that the real thing will live up to the cardboard boxes of his childhood.
When he packs for Atlantis, his personal item of choice is an orange stuffed tiger.