Ancient History

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She as imaginary

Her name is Golden. She has blue hair, blue eyes, and wears pink lipstick.

She lives elsewhere with a mother and a father but she comes over often for sleepovers and doll dancing with Beatrix.

Sometimes, our phone rings and Beatrix is sure it is Golden on the other end. She is sorely disappointed when it is not for her. It’s never for her. She is only 3.

Golden is also 3, but attends kindergarten. Golden reads books which she carries in her backpack. Golden has her own iPhone, Beatrix tells me proudly.

I wish I could text Golden to ask if she could help clean Beatrix’s room the next time she comes over.

I asked Beatrix where she met Golden. She doesn’t know. Golden showed up one day. There were no moments when Beatrix heard a strange voice, turned, and saw her leaning against a streetlamp at dusk.

Golden likes lollipops and stickers and her cute baby brother. She enjoys Happy Meals with chicken, pandas and singing along to the Wiggles song about the sleepy teddy bear. Golden advises Beatrix to wear an old ballet skirt to bed, paired with a t-shirt featuring a husky.

Funny how these girls are so much alike.

Beatrix’s breathless soliloquies about the life and times of her special friend won’t last forever.

Golden is already legend. I am forced to imagine her because Beatrix has built her with words. This is quite an accomplishment and a good study in character.

In a bizarre roundabout way, she is my imaginary friend, too.

She would chose the strawberry shampoo at bathtime and cinnamon-sugar sprinkled on her waffle.

She has a dimple on her left cheek. I just know it.

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