Author's Note: In this story, Calvin's parents acquire first and last names to help the flow of the plot.

Judy stared out the window, sipping her coffee. A sigh escaped her mouth. The house was quiet. Too quiet. She should have been used to it by now. He had been gone for a month. It was all Miss Wormwood's fault. She was the one who had suggested Pine Mountain School for Boys in the first place, and Michael had jumped at the opportunity. Two against one, she would have been outvoted. Besides, at the rate Calvin had been going, he would have been the first twenty-year-old first grader in history. But now, as a tear trickled down her face, couldn't help being overcome with regret. Sure he was hyper. But he was her son. She recalled the day he had left, when he had a whole temper tantrum over having to leave his stuffed tiger behind. Hobbes! She set the coffee down on the window sill and raced up to his bedroom. His bed was unmade, and there were toys everywhere. She hadn't cleaned it simply because she felt he was still there with it the way it was. Yes, there was Hobbes, his head on the pillow, stuffed arms outstretched, as if waiting for a hug. Judy sat down on the bed and picked up the tiger. To the rest of the world, he was cotton and plush, but to her little boy, he was a real flesh-and-bone tiger and his best friend. She expected any day now to find a letter in the mail for Hobbes from two states away, and that thought made her laugh before the tears took over. Maybe she would tell Michael at dinner that night that she had changed her mind…

"No!" Michael sipped his water.

"Oh, but Michael…he's two states away! And he's separated from his only friend in the world…you remember how that bully Mo always gave him a hard time at school…just think about how the boys at Pine Mountain are treating him!"

"Oh, let the kid build some character. You wouldn't want him to be sitting in his first grade classroom at forty-years-old, do you?"

"That had crossed my mind…but what about home schooling?"

"Are you kidding? He just about drove you up the wall! Remember when he climbed out on the roof just to avoid a bath?"

"True, true. And he'll be home at Christmas…" Judy sighed and went back to her hamburger casserole.

**************************** Three Months Later *****************************************

"Hi, Mom, Hi, Dad!" Eight-year-old Calvin called from Gate 7A. Judy took a double-take. Calvin's spiky hair had been replaced with a military buzz-cut, and he was wearing a full suit!

"Calvin! I missed you! The house has been too quiet!"

"You mean Hobbes didn't jump out at you or ask you to play Calvin Ball or or…"

"Calm down, son!" Michael smiled. Here was the Calvin Wilmington he knew and loved.

"I suppose he's been sulking in my room all this time…uh oh…Mom, did you feed him?"

"Uh…no, I didn't…" Judy's eyes widened. She knew it was all his imagination, but she decided to play along. After all, in two weeks, Calvin would be gone again.

"How was school, Calvin?" Michael changed the subject.

"Oh, it was okay. Kind of strict, but I met this cool guy my age who's doing time there for pulling these huge pranks on three different schools! Want to hear about them?"

"Maybe later, Calvin." Judy sighed, inwardly hoping that Calvin would change at this school, but not too much.

*************************** Fifteen Years Later ******************************************

Judy climbed the steps to the dimly-lit attic. She was bored. She just had to do some cleaning. The first box she came to was recent—pictures and other souvenirs from Calvin and Susie's wedding. She couldn't believe how quickly Calvin matured…Susie as well, come to think of it. It seemed like only yesterday that they were arch-enemies, and now Susie was carrying their first child. She moved the box closer to the stairs; she decided to try making a scrapbook of the couple. As she looked through the next few boxes, furniture, and other things, memories surrounding them danced around her head. She started making a pile of things to send to Calvin and his wife for them to use in their new house. Hours later, she grew exhausted and was about to descend the stairs for the night when she stopped. One dark corner had been overlooked. The sunlight from the window revealed an orange, black, and white stuffed paw, and Judy gasped. Strength regained, she pulled the cardboard box into the middle of the room, laughing at the writing on the box. "Transmogrifier" it read on one side, while "Duplicator" was written on another. Still another side had the words "Time Machine" written in black, child-like writing, and she remembered all Calvin's fantasies and stories. How she wished she could go back to those days, if only for a few hours. She was half-tempted to dump everything out of the box and use the "Time Machine" herself, but she shook her head at the thought. Toys and drawings filled the box, but on top, covered in cobwebs and dust, was Hobbes. Mice or moths had found him at some point, and they had made his face look sadder. His black yarn mouth drooped even more downward at the corners, and stuffing was coming out of his cheeks, looking almost like tears. She remembered when Calvin had found the baby raccoon in the field, and how she had sat with Hobbes while Calvin raced back to the house for a shoebox and towel. That was the one bonding moment she had had with Hobbes, but it had stuck with her all these years. What was it about this stuffed tiger that gave you a sense of loyalty toward it, the second you thought of it as real? Abandoning the rest of the box's contents, Judy carried the tiger back down the attic stairs. The scrapbook would have to wait, she decided. She had a sewing project ahead of her.

**********************************Four months later********************************

"Calvin, there's another package for you today" Susie announced through the closed study door.

"I'll open it as soon as I'm done…" Calvin didn't look up from his computer screen. He was now a best-selling childrens story author and illustrator, having published five "Adventures of Calvin Boy" books, and he was now working on the next one. But like all writers at some point, he was battling a major writer's block. He rubbed his forehead and sighed. Maybe that package will have some inspiration… he told himself. He opened the door and nearly tripped over the cardboard box. No return address, he noticed, but there was quite a bit of writing on the box's sides. As he read each side, his mind was stirred with memories he had hidden away. "Mom…" he concluded. He undid the packing tape and opened the worn cardboard flaps. A letter from his mom was at the top, and he skimmed over the writing. She had gotten so sentimental lately, ever since he went away to Pine Mountain. But as he read her words, he stumbled into a chair and read the note again.

"Dear Calvin,

I hope you noticed the box all this came in. I thought you might like to hold onto it instead of letting the critters in the attic get to it. Maybe your little boy would have as much fun with it as you did. Calvin, when we sent you away to Pine Mountain, we hoped that they would help you change for the better, and they did just that. But it came with a cost. That imagination of yours shrunk. Yes, you've written all those wonderful childrens books, and we're proud of you for that. But there was a time when your imagination was more than we could handle. However, to be honest, Calvin, if I were to choose, I'd choose the little six-year-old imagination that has disappeared. Stick with me, Calvin, I still love who you've become. But I think I know the key to getting that imagination back. As time goes by, Calvin, we make many friends along the way. Some stay for a lifetime, and some go a separate way. I've enclosed one of your old friends in this cardboard box for you, Calvin. Cherish him always, and let him help your imagination soar to new heights.

Love, Mom"

"How in the world did she enclose one of my friends in a box??? This is getting creepy…" Calvin mumbled as he dug his hands into the packing peanuts. His fingers soon touched a familiar plushy object, and he pulled it out. "Huh…my old stuffed tiger. Maybe Charlie will play with it when he's older…" But as he looked Hobbes over, he felt a warm feeling come over him. "Hobbes? Hobbes, Ol' Buddy?"

"Calvin! Supper!" Susie called from down the hall. Calvin hesitated, then propped Hobbes up on his desk.

*****************************An hour later***************************

Calvin burped as he closed the study door behind him. Susie had, as always, prepared a delicious meal, and he was stuffed. Speaking of stuffed, Calvin turned around to face his desk. Hobbes was sitting in his chair, fuzzy back paws propped up on the desk, and he was reading one of Calvin's books.

"Hobbes!" Calvin grinned.

"This story's missing something. A tiger, perhaps?" Hobbes looked up and smiled.

"Isn't that just like you, Hobbes? Reading my books instead of pouncing on me?"

"A tiger's entitled to one surprise every fifteen years, especially after spending all that time locked in a dark attic while his only friend in the world moves out…" Hobbes winked. "By the way, I caught a glimpse of Susie now…"

"Paws off! She's mine!" Calvin playfully elbowed his friend.

*******************************Epilogue******************************

Calvin's next book turned into a comic book based on his old Spaceman Spiff fantasies, only this time, he gained a sidekick, Hobbes the Horrible. Little Charlie was introduced to Hobbes shortly afterward, and at age six, he was soon having the same adventures with Hobbes as Calvin had. Yes, even as we speak, somewhere out in an open field, a little boy and his tiger are staring up at a star filled sky, talking with each other of aliens and human existence, while the little boy's mother yells at them to get back inside. Some things never change…

The End