"So, you're going soon?"
"Yes. I'm almost ready."
"I don't like it when you have to go, you know..."
"Todd. It is not your place to say where I can and cannot go."
"Yes, Shmee," the seven-year-old boy said to his teddy bear, lowering his head contritely.
"And what is you place?" asked the bear, without moving his lips.
"My place is to absorb and overcome traumas," the boy replied as if reciting a lesson learned at school.
"Why?"
"Because I am the best at it."
"And..."
"And that is why I am a Trauma Magnet," Todd replied. The bear spoke again, more tenderly this time.
"Very good. Never forget, that is your special mission. Now I have to go," he said with finality.
Todd lowered his large, dark blue eyes, and his head followed them. He was obviously displeased.
"Now now, Todd. It will only be for a few hours. Go to sleep, and I'll be here in the morning."
Then the bear's voice vanished, and the teddy's eyes glazed over like a dead thing's, until they were just empty, reflective buttons.
"But I won't be able to," whimpered Todd to the unresponsive teddy. He hated it when Shmee had to leave, however briefly.
Todd Casil was a young boy with many problems. If there were any test to evaluate parenthood, his parents would have failed miserably. His father was a stressed-out workaholic who was alternately cold and distant and violently angry, and his mother was a drugged-up alcoholic who rarely acknowledged the child. Neither had any time or inclination to care for the boy, who was constantly high-strung and lonely. But necessity forced the boy to become self-sufficient, and he did most of the housework and cooking to search for approval. But the only acceptance he found was from his teddy bear, Shmee. Since Shmee disdained Todd's parents and wouldn't talk to them, they believed that their son was crazy, and sent him to an asylum, glad for an excuse to dump him on someone. But the psychiatric evaluations could find no problems with this nervous, shy, but otherwise normal boy. They still wanted to keep him under observation, though, so he spent most of his time at his worker's house. But it was spring break, so Todd had a whole week to spend at his parents' house. Oh joy.
Whimpering with loneliness, the boy buried his head in his pillow, clutching his bear tightly, and tried to fall asleep.
"Yes. I'm almost ready."
"I don't like it when you have to go, you know..."
"Todd. It is not your place to say where I can and cannot go."
"Yes, Shmee," the seven-year-old boy said to his teddy bear, lowering his head contritely.
"And what is you place?" asked the bear, without moving his lips.
"My place is to absorb and overcome traumas," the boy replied as if reciting a lesson learned at school.
"Why?"
"Because I am the best at it."
"And..."
"And that is why I am a Trauma Magnet," Todd replied. The bear spoke again, more tenderly this time.
"Very good. Never forget, that is your special mission. Now I have to go," he said with finality.
Todd lowered his large, dark blue eyes, and his head followed them. He was obviously displeased.
"Now now, Todd. It will only be for a few hours. Go to sleep, and I'll be here in the morning."
Then the bear's voice vanished, and the teddy's eyes glazed over like a dead thing's, until they were just empty, reflective buttons.
"But I won't be able to," whimpered Todd to the unresponsive teddy. He hated it when Shmee had to leave, however briefly.
Todd Casil was a young boy with many problems. If there were any test to evaluate parenthood, his parents would have failed miserably. His father was a stressed-out workaholic who was alternately cold and distant and violently angry, and his mother was a drugged-up alcoholic who rarely acknowledged the child. Neither had any time or inclination to care for the boy, who was constantly high-strung and lonely. But necessity forced the boy to become self-sufficient, and he did most of the housework and cooking to search for approval. But the only acceptance he found was from his teddy bear, Shmee. Since Shmee disdained Todd's parents and wouldn't talk to them, they believed that their son was crazy, and sent him to an asylum, glad for an excuse to dump him on someone. But the psychiatric evaluations could find no problems with this nervous, shy, but otherwise normal boy. They still wanted to keep him under observation, though, so he spent most of his time at his worker's house. But it was spring break, so Todd had a whole week to spend at his parents' house. Oh joy.
Whimpering with loneliness, the boy buried his head in his pillow, clutching his bear tightly, and tried to fall asleep.