What is life?
Is it merely being, eating, walking, breathing?
Or is it subtle?
Can Life be found elsewhere?
And how can it form?
And…
If one doesn't know how life is given…
How can it be taken away?
"Wow, it really snowed last night! Isn't it wonderful?" a small boy said, to his closest friend, who to many was a stuffed animal, but to him was a real tiger.
"Everything familiar has disappeared! The world looks brand new!" the other replied.
Snow had fallen, covering the world in white powder. The larger of the two carried a sled. They were going tobogganing, like they always did on these snow fallen days.
"A New Year…a fresh clean start!"
"It's like having a big white sheet of paper to draw on!"
"A day full of possibilities!"
The two got on the sled, preparing to go down.
"It's a magical world, Hobbes, ol' buddy…" The boy said to his friend, "Let's go exploring!"
With that, the two friends zipped off into the snow-covered land.
The next day, January 2, 1996, was Calvin's seventh birthday. Calvin didn't have a big party, for he only had one friend, Hobbes. Calvin and Hobbes had known one another for the past year.
Many people said it was unhealthy for a boy his age to spend all his time with a stuffed toy, that he should make real friends.
But, to Calvin, Hobbes was more real than anyone else he knew.
Somewhere deep in Calvin's overactive imagination, he made Hobbes into what he wanted Hobbes to be. A friend, a confidante, something he could not get from other kids.
Calvin's imagination breathed life into Hobbes.
After his seventh birthday, Calvin didn't have much more time to spend with Hobbes. After a year of complaints from Calvin's teacher and principal and Mrs. Derkins, Calvin's parents finally decided that their son should spend more time with other kids. Calvin was signed up for activities and group centers and play-dates, and Calvin was no longer able to have his adventures with Hobbes.
After months of perpetual boredom, Calvin realized that there was no way out, and he had to make the best of it. He started participating and making friends. Some of them were really good friends. But, every time he introduced them to Hobbes, he was either laughed at, called a sissy, told that seven-year-olds were to big to play with stuffed animals.
The very worst however, were the ones that patronized him, pretending that yes, Hobbes was a real tiger. He knew they were just trying to be friendly. But it hurt.
To him, Hobbes was real, but only to him. And, when people you know take a side, and everyone else takes the same side, You tend to believe them.
The night before his ninth birthday, Calvin talked to Hobbes, "Hobbes?"
"Yes?" the tiger said.
"Why doesn't anyone think you're real?" he asked his friend.
"But I am real. Anyone can see me and touch me."
"But they don't see you. Not really. And they can't hear you. To them, you're nothing but a stuffed animal. To them you're not alive."
"But I am. You can see me for what I am. To you, I am alive. That makes me real."
"No, it doesn't. They all say I'm crazy. They say you can't be alive. Maybe I shouldn't see you. Maybe there's something wrong with me."
"No, Calvin, There's nothing wrong with you. You are what keeps me alive. I am here to help you and you are what keeps me here. If you don't want me here, I won't be here."
"I should have seen it before. There is something wrong with me. You're not real."
"Calvin…"
"Stop talking. Go away. You're not real. You're not real."
"We'll talk about this in the morning," with that Hobbes went to sleep.
The next morning, the two did not talk. For when Calvin woke up, Hobbes was no longer his furry friend, but a worn stuffed tiger.
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After that, Calvin was doing great. His hyperactivity died down, He started paying more attention in school, joined sports teams, became popular with the girls, etc. By the time high school started, he was at the head of his classes, student body president, voted most popular, the whole shebang. His parents were happy, his teachers were happy, everyone was happy.
Except Calvin.
He had all but forgotten the sixth year of his life, and what little he did remember was dismissed as a dream, or as playful childhood imagination.
He always felt there was something missing, a hole in his soul. A large gaping hole present ever since his ninth birthday, when he stuffed his best friend in a cardboard box and left him in the attic.
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Calvin grew older, as everyone is wont to due. He graduated from college, held a steady career, married Susie Derkins, his high school sweetheart, and moved to another state. One day, he visited his parent's home, helping them clean out the attic. His parents were moving. The house would be demolished.
They moved out all of the boxes except one. Calvin went over to it. On it, he read a note, and he recognized his nine year old handwriting.
It read:
Dont open this box. Inside it is a destructiv monster. If you open it, it will destroy you with its mandables of death. If you are moving, leave it here. This s a strict warning.
Calvin
Calvin let out a laugh at the misspelled note. Boy, he thought, I sure had an imagination when I was a kid. "Mandibles of death." Probably just some box of old junk…
He opened the box, and saw a flash of orange and black.
He instinctively shut the box.
However, he couldn't leave it to be destroyed with the rest of the house.
He took the box, put it in the trunk of his car, and left the house of his childhood, with the only thing that could ever draw him back.
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That night, Calvin had a restless sleep. He kept dreaming.
He dreamt of snowmen. He dreamt of sleds and wagons. He dreamt that he sold Earth to aliens in exchange for 50 leaves. He dreamt he built a time machine from a cardboard box, and a duplicator and transmogrifier too. He dreamt of pasting his future wife with countless snowballs. He dreamt of treehouse clubs. He dreamt of spaceships and other worlds and a man by the name of "Spaceman Spiff."
But most of all, he saw a six year old boy, and a tiger. The boy was short, hyperactive, getting in trouble countless times.
The tiger was taller than he was. He was long, fuzzy, and was a wise old sage. He didn't really understand the ways of humans, and always put his two cents into any conversation.
He kept hearing voices:
Oh, no. I'm not getting in that machine.
Do you happen to have any tuna fish on you?
Don't worry, humans contain some good protein.
The problem with the future is that it keeps becoming the present.
If our naked pink butts showed, we'd wear clothes.
Instinct. Tigers are born with it.
This cereal is like eating a bowl of Milk Duds.
I'll always be your friend.
Always your friend
Always…
Calvin woke in a cold sweat. For he wasn't dreaming. He was remembering.
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Calvin went over to the box he brought from home. He opened it. Pulled out the contents.
The stuffed tiger was nothing special. Very plain. It was worn from the years he spent cooped up in that box.
The tears came. Calvin wiped them off. "Why?" he asked, "why did I leave you behind? Why didn't I keep you around? Why did you die?"
"Because you killed me."
Calvin jerked his head up. Hobbes was standing right in front of him.
"Hobbes!" Calvin cried. He rushed over to hug him.
They embraced. After they separated, Calvin asked, "What do you mean? How did I kill you?"
"You stopped believing," Hobbes said, "I was alive as long as you needed me alive. As long as you wanted me there, as long as you believed, I was there. You stopped believing because you believed it was wrong to. So I died."
"But, why are you back?" Calvin said, "I don't understand."
"You still need me. You began believing again. And I am back. But not for long."
"Why not? You're back, Hobbes! Why can't you be with me?"
"You will see."
After that, the two friends started talking. They talked until the morning came.
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It was six years later, and Calvin felt alive again. He quit his job, feeling it stifled him, and settled down and became a cartoonist, telling his adventures under the pen name "Bill Watterson." One day, his son Tyler came home from school with a black eye and a bloody lip.
Calvin healed his son, then sat down with his son on his bed and asked him what happened.
"Some big mean bully punched me because I wanted to go on the slide. He said it was his and no one else could have it."
"Well, next time, ignore him. Go play with your friends."
Tyler sniffled, "I don't have any friends," He sobbed.
Calvin took this in, brightened, then said, "I know someone who will be your friend. Wait right here."
When Calvin came back into the room, he brought Hobbes with him.
"His name is Hobbes," Calvin said, "He was my best friend when I was your age. Now he's your friend."
Tyler took the tiger and hugged him. "He's fuzzy," Tyler said.
Hobbes gave Calvin a wink as he left the room.
"Hey, Tyler," Hobbes said as Calvin walked down the halls, "I know a really fun game we can play. It's called Calvinball, and it's really fun, let's go outside!"
Calvin smiled. Hobbes was going to be around for a long time.
Well, this is my first Calvin and Hobbes fic. Hope you liked it. I actually cried while writing this. It's not too sad, is it?
Disclaimer: I do not own Calvin and Hobbes and am not making money off this. I'm just a fan with his own perspective of what happened after the last strip of Calvin and Hobbes.