I wrote a really depressing Calvin and Hobbes fanfiction a few weeks ago and posted it on Fanfiction.net under the pen name Cherry Blossom Petals of DOOM. I just thought I'd post it here. Who knows? Maybe I'll make it into an official fan word.
I actually cried while writing this.
The snow fell quietly outside the window of the small suburban home, obscuring the late autumn colors of various browns that had once dominated. It was a day that normally would have been reserved strictly for play: a day for careening down the steep Suicide Slope into Grim Reaper Gulch, or for plastering unsuspecting girls upside the head with carefully crafted snowballs. Normally, such a day would have opened up an entire world of possibilities for young Calvin and his tiger friend Hobbes.
However, there was something different that fateful day.
“Hey!” Hobbes greeted excitedly, bounding into the room where eight-year-old Calvin sat at his desk, writing intently. “What’s going on here, pal?”
“Oh, hey Hobbes,” Calvin said quickly, never taking his eyes off his work. Curious, Hobbes wandered over to the large desk and peered over Calvin’s shoulder, observing his work.
“You’re starting your report already? It’s not due until next week,” he pointed out. “You sure you don’t want to put it off for a little bit?”
“Yeah. I’ve got math and history, too, so I’ve got to start early if I want to do a good job,” Calvin answered. “What do you need?”
“Well, there’s three feet of snow outside, for starters!” Hobbes began enthusiastically. “We could go sledding and see if we can finally clear the river!”
“Nah.” Hobbes paused, looking at Calvin incredulously.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I don’t want to go sledding today,” the boy elaborated, still not bothering to look at Hobbes. Said tiger was quiet for a moment, before he asked,
“Well, how about a snowman? We could try and make some cash off that avant-garde stuff you’re always talking about!” he suggested.
“I gave up on that a year ago. Mom said that my snowmen would never sell.”
“Ice fishing down at the lake? Writing a list to Santa?” Hobbes tried, feeling slightly desperate. He didn’t understand. Calvin wasn’t the type of kid to refuse activities that would otherwise get him out of homework. But maybe writing to Santa would get his attention.
No such luck. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later, Hobbes. I need to finish my homework first.” Here Hobbes froze. Were his ears working right? Did he honestly just hear Calvin say “homework first”? He went for his trump card.
“By the way,” he began casually. “I heard that Susie was going to have a midwinter tea party with Mr. Bun. Bet it’d be the perfect opportunity to blast her with snowballs, hm?” Normally, Calvin would have stopped what he was doing right then and there. Even if he didn’t feel like going sledding, or building a snowman, or writing to Santa, whenever Susie and snowballs came up in the same sentence, he was always ready to wreak some havoc.
Calvin’s answer tipped Hobbes off that something was incredibly wrong. “No, thanks. She’d probably just go tell her mom, anyway.”
Hobbes’ jaw hit the floor. “Since when has that stopped you?” he demanded. For the first time since the tiger had entered the room, Calvin turned to face him.
“Look, if all we’re going to do is get in trouble for throwing snowballs at her, then what’s the point? Besides, she’s got the report to do as well. If she’s going to be doing that, then I don’t think she’ll be going outside today anyway.” He turned back to the paper. “I’ve got to write this, so if you’ll be quiet for a little while, then…”
The rest of Calvin’s words were lost to Hobbes’ confused ears. Why was this happening? Calvin never refused play when homework was to be done. Or at least, he never did in the past… Hobbes suddenly became aware of just how many times Calvin had rejected his suggestions of play these past few months. Suddenly, a knock at the door made Hobbes jump in alarm.
“Calvin, are you in here?” came the boy’s mother’s voice. “I’m coming in.” The door swung open and she stepped in.
“Hi Mom,” Calvin greeted, turning from his report. “I’m just doing my homework.”
“Already?” she asked, pleasant surprise in her voice. “My, you’ve been rather studious lately, haven’t you?”
“Yeah! I’ve found that it’s easier just to get it out of the way,” he answered. Hobbes noted the more enthusiastic tone in his voice. Calvin’s mom smiled proudly.
“Well, aren’t you a hard worker! You were never like this in first and second grade. What happened to the little procrastinator I constantly had to force to do his homework?”
Calvin pondered this for a moment. “I dunno. That was then, this is now, I guess.” He held up his paper. “I’ve almost got the first draft done. Can you read it and help me check it when I’m finished?” His mom laughed lightly and bent down to kiss his head.
“I can’t right now, sweetie. I’ve got bills to pay. But I’ll check it before your bedtime, okay?” Calvin nodded happily, and she turned to leave. “Then it’s settled. You know, I’m so proud of you.” With that, she left, the door swinging silently back into place.
Hobbes was stunned. Was this what had changed Calvin so drastically over the months? Was the long-buried desire to please his parents finally overcoming his hyperactive imagination and his love of play? It couldn’t be… but the more Hobbes thought about it, the more he believed yes. His friend was losing his childhood innocence, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Wow… your mom was really pleased with you, wasn’t she?” he finally managed to say. Calvin nodded excitedly.
“Yep! Y’know, when I was younger, I never really considered the rewards of making my parents proud. I guess I’ve been missing out on a lot, huh?”
Hobbes wanted to cry no! You haven’t missed out on a single thing! But for some reason, the only words he could choke out were “Yeah… I guess you have…”
“To think, all the time I spent playing outside in the snow, building those ridiculous snowmen and unfairly hurting Susie, I could have been building a future for myself!” Calvin continued. “I guess I’ve learned my lesson, huh?” This time, Hobbes couldn’t even form a reply while Calvin turned back to his work, smiling proudly.
He didn’t want to believe it. He simply didn’t want to believe it. How badly he wanted this to all be a bad dream, to close his eyes and wake up curled up in bed with a sleeping Calvin. At this point, he would try anything. He shut his eyes and held them closed for two minutes, then slowly opened them again.
Nothing had happened. He was still on the bed, the light was still on, and Calvin was still sitting at that accursed desk, writing away. It was then that harsh reality began to sink in. Everything that Calvin and Hobbes had cherished back then: the adrenaline rush from careening down on a sled, the raucous laughter from pasting Susie with slushballs, the happiness from sipping marshmallows in front of the fire on Christmas Eve… everything was fading into a faint, happy memory. They were no longer “we”; Calvin had taken to not even acknowledging Hobbes when they were out with family. There was no more “us” when Calvin pleaded with his mom to take him for a ride in the car. Calvin and Hobbes… was no longer Calvin and Hobbes. It was simply Calvin and it was simply Hobbes.
Tears welled up in his eyes and fell, landing on his large furry paws. If there was no more Calvin and Hobbes, no more imagination, no more “we” and “us”… then what was there? In Calvin’s view, there was schoolwork and making his parents proud. In Hobbes’ view, there was nothing. If Calvin didn’t want to play with him anymore, then what was he now? Nothing but a useless stuffed tiger that would lie around collecting dust. Maybe it was time to let Calvin grow up. Maybe it was time he found some human friends, even if they wouldn’t join him in building mutant snowmen or protecting the earth from aliens. Maybe… it was time to let go.
It’s for the best, Hobbes thought desperately, trying to convince himself. It’s all for the best. It had to happen eventually. But as he struggled to hold back more tears, he couldn’t help but think, It’s such a shame… it had to happen so soon. He knew it was a situation that almost certainly could never be recovered from. But if he were to stay, what would he do? Sit around on his haunches while waiting for Calvin to get his imagination back? What was the gratification of that? His mind was made up, but that still didn’t stop the tears from finally breaking free. Goodbye, old buddy. It’s been fun, he thought. I don’t regret anything. The times we shared, the fun we had… I hope you don’t forget any of it. It’s just too bad they couldn’t last forever.
And Hobbes was gone. Calvin didn’t even notice the sound of the lifeless plush body hitting the bed as he left.
x~X~x
The stuffed tiger was sold later that month at a moving sale. It was no longer of any use to call it “Hobbes”. Hobbes was gone, and soon, almost all the toys that he had shared with Calvin would be gone too, sold off to young, hyperactive kids to be played with.
“Come on, Calvin! We’re going to miss our flight if we don’t hurry!” Calvin’s father called from the car. The boy quickly burst out the door, hauling a suitcase that seemed almost twice his size.
“Coming, Dad!” he called back. “I just needed to grab some books to read!” Moving day had finally come. Growing steadily more desperate at Calvin’s failing grades throughout first and second grade, his parents had finally agreed to pay to send him to a private school for problem children in San Francisco, California, not knowing the change that would have been brought about in third grade. However, the deal had been sealed long ago; they had found a new house, Calvin’s dad had found a new job, and the moving sale had already come and gone. “Oh, boy!” Calvin cheered enthusiastically. “We’re moving to California! I can’t wait!”
Calvin’s mom laughed as she too got in the car. “It’s so nice to see you so excited, Calvin,” she commented.
“Sure is,” his dad agreed. “I was afraid we would have to drag you from this house kicking and screaming.” The entire family laughed as they pulled out of their former driveway to head to the airport.
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Okay, so it's not the best ending in the world. I'm still struggling with myself on whether to make a second chapter or not. What do you guys think?
