story

[chu_totoro]

once there lived a little boy and a little girl.

 

when they were very small, they were the best of the best of friends,

and they made a pinky vow to be best friends forever.

 

they made a plan:

            when they were older

            they would live together in a little house

            with a self-sustaining garden

            and remain best friends to the end of their lives.

 

they didn’t forget it when they grew up;

            they bought a little house

            just for the two of them

            and behind it they planted a self-sustaining garden

            and there they lived.

 

but as time passed,

            day after day, week after week, month after month,

                        the little girl began to grow unhappy.

 

“i don’t want to live my whole life in this hut,”

            she told the little boy.

“i want to go out and see the world.”

 

the little boy was sad. but he let her go.

 

he knew if she stayed, she would be unhappy.

     and then so would he.

 

he wished she could stay and not be unhappy.

     but, that couldn’t be helped.

 

the little girl went out to see the world.

she was out seeing the world part of every day.

 

the little boy stayed home.

he sat in the garden

and watched the strawberries grow.

 

days turned into weeks turned into months.

 

the little girl made new friends outside.

            sometimes she would stay out late with them.

 

the little boy would sleep alone on their bed, too big for him.

            sometimes at night he would go sit in the garden and watch the stars.

 

time passed quickly.

 

soon it was time for the New Year.

 

the little boy went out and bought some firecrackers.

            he knew how the little girl loved to light firecrackers.

 

all night he stayed up and waited…

 

                                                            and waited…

           

                                                                                    and waited…

 

the little girl didn’t come.

 

she didn’t come home until morning.

 

“i had a wonderful time with my friends!” she said.

     “how was your New Years?”

 

“i forgot it was New Years,” the little boy lied.

 

when the little girl wasn’t watching,

     he took the firecrackers

     and threw them into the sewer.

he didn’t want her to know he had stayed up all night waiting for her

     because she might feel bad.

 

time passed.

 

on Valentine’s Day,

            the little boy baked the little girl

                        A GREAT BIG CHOCOLATE CAKE.

 

but when she came home, loaded with presents, she remarked,

            “my, my friends gave me so much chocolate today,

                        "i think if i had another bite of it i’d be sick!”

 

the little boy hid the cake in the closet.

 

“i’m sorry, i didn’t get you anything,” he said.

 

that night he snuck out of bed while she was still asleep

            and, so as not to be wasteful

            ate the whole thing by himself.

 

                        it made him violently sick in the garden.

 

one month passed.

two months passed.

 

soon it was the little girl’s birthday.

 

            the little boy put up streamers all around the house.

            he tied balloons to the doorknob.

            he put tinsel on the ceiling.

            he prepared confetti to throw in the air.

            and he made her a happy birthday card, all by himself.

 

then he waited for her to come home at midnight

so he could surprise her.

 

the clock struck ten.

the clock struck eleven.

the little boy waited.

the clock struck midnight.

the clock struck one.

the clock struck two.

the little boy fell asleep.

he woke up when the clock struck three.

the clock struck four.

the clock struck five.

when the clock struck six, the little boy left his spot by the door.

he went out and sat in the garden

            to watch the strawberries grow.

 

at noon, he decided she wasn’t coming.

 

            he took down all the streamers.

            he untied the balloons and let them fly into the sky.

            he removed the tinsel.

            he threw away the confetti.

            but he kept the card.

            he put it on the windowsill.

            he would give it to her when she came home.

 

finally, the little girl came home.

 

     “did you know, it was my birthday today!” she said.

 

“yes—” said the little boy, then stopped.

 

the card had fallen from the windowsill.

it lay outside, in the mud.

 

“actually, no,” he said.

 

     he didn’t want her to feel guilty

     that her card had gotten muddy

     because she had come home late.

 

the little girl was a little hurt and a little sad.

            the little boy always remembered her birthday.

            usually, he had some surprise ready for her.

            or at least a present.

 

but…

 

“it’s okay,” she said to him.

 

she forgave him, because they had vowed to be

            best friends forever.

 

secretly, she was a little glad

            that he had not stayed up all night

                        waiting for her.

                                    then she would feel guilty.

 

the sun rose and fell.

the moon waxed and waned.

 

soon it was the little boy’s birthday.

 

the little girl stayed home to celebrate it.

     she gave him a card, and together

          they baked strawberry pie.

               it was great fun.

 

but, when Christmas came around,

            the little boy had no present for the little girl.

 

he forgot New Years, when New Years came around.

he forgot Valentine’s Day too.

and he forgot the little girl’s birthday.

 

this made the little girl sad.

 

she felt like the little boy wasn’t quite himself anymore.

            he never remembered anything

            and he talked much less.

 

secretly, the little girl suspected

            that the little boy might be losing his wits.

 

still, they had vowed to be best friends forever.

 

the little girl valiantly kept up her end of the vow.

            she had worked out a system between her friends.

 

most of the time she stayed home, with the little boy.

she only went out with her friends on the holidays.

after all, the little boy never remembered the dates

so it made no difference to him.

 

the little boy had not lost his wits.

 

he remembered the little girl’s birthday.

he remembered Valentine’s Day, too.

he remembered New Years

and he remembered Christmas.

 

the little boy never forgot anything.

            he always had something ready for the little girl.

 

but, if she came home too late

            the little boy would get rid of his presents.

            he didn't want the little girl to feel bad

            because, then, so would he.

 

sometimes, when he sat out in the garden,

            looking up at the stars,

                        he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t.

 

secretly, he suspected that

            the little girl thought he was losing his wits.

 

but…

 

     if the little girl realized he had not lost his wits

     then she must realize

     that he had never lost his wits

     and she would find out about

 

            all the missed surprises

            all the uneaten cakes

            all the unused firecrackers

            all the returned presents

 

     and feel a hundred times worse.

 

the little boy couldn’t do that.

 

they had sworn to be best friends forever.

 

so he sat out in the garden,

            and watched the strawberries grow.

 

the little girl had lots of fun with her friends.

            she forgave the little boy for his erratic memory.

            they were best friends, after all.

            and she never felt bad when she was out with her friends

            because she knew the little boy would not remember the holiday.

 

sometimes she wondered if he even remembered his own birthday.

 

they always celebrated that together.

 

every year they baked strawberry pie.

 

one year the little girl bought mango seeds for the little boy.

            they planted mangos.

 

                        from then on, they baked strawberry and mango pie.

 

 

the little boy never forgot his own birthdays.

 

he just thought surprising himself was rather pointless.

 

besides, he enjoyed baking strawberry pies.

 

and, after one particular year, he was able to

            sit out in the garden

                        and watch the mangos grow.

 

this made him glad.

 

 

years merged, one into the other.

 

one day, the little girl died.

 

            her friends held a big funeral for her.

            they buried her on a hill

            in a little mound of earth.

 

the little boy didn’t cry.

 

            he sat beside the little mound of earth

                        all by himself.

 

no one knew who he was.

 

they whispered amongst themselves

they pointed, and asked each other in low voices,

“who is he?”

 

no one knew.

 

finally, a couple of them came up to him

tentatively, they asked him what he was doing.

the little boy looked at them.

“i am…

“waiting for strawberries to grow,” he said.

“and mangos,” he added as an afterthought.

 

the people went back to the crowd.

they conversed amongst themselves

they shook their heads

they decided the boy was crazy

and it was best to leave him alone.

 

all through the day, people came to pay the little girl tribute.

 

but as the sun sank lower and lower

fewer and fewer people came.

 

finally, as the sun disappeared beneath the horizon

the little boy was all alone.

 

he stretched out on his best friend’s grave.

 

hands behind his head,

            he lay back on the dirt and gazed up into the deep night sky,

            where the stars shimmered,

            and the moonlight shone and glittered down on

                        the lone silhouette stretched out upon the little mound of earth.