Peach Face

Frank could jump out of his skin he was so excited about going to a new school. His family had just moved to El Paso from Albuquerque. "Oh please, please let the boys and girls like me," he said to himself as he shot a 3-pointer that hit the back of the rim and fell to the ground with a thud.

It was 5:30 pm and it was already getting dark. The night before his mom had set all the clocks in the house an hour back. Where did that hour go? he wondered.

A cool breeze blew in his new back yard as Frank bounced the basketball. A dust devil danced with some fallen leaves in the vacant lot next to his house. "Frank," his mother called. Frank did not like dust devils. He did not like the name. It scared him how they came up from nowhere and just as quickly disappeared like they were ghosts or something. "It's time for dinner!" his mother's voice called louder.

"I'm not very hungry," Frank said as his mother put more broccoli on his plate. "Eat this," his mother insisted. Frank knew all about broccoli. He knew it was full of vitamins, but it reminded him of little trees, and he couldn't possibly eat little trees.

"What are you going to wear to school tomorrow?" his mom asked.

"Oh! My Yu-Gi-Oh t-shirt and some shorts."

"You most certainly are not!" his mother quipped. "It's only going to be fifty degrees tomorrow... wear a sweater and some jeans."

"O.K.," Frank answered. "Do you think it would be okay if I bring my pan pipe and dream catcher to school tomorrow?" he asked his mom.

"Certainly," she replied. "Just be careful with them, remember what the Navajo lady who sold them to you said."

"Oh, I know the kids at school will think they are cool. I hope they won't be mean to me like the kids in Albuquerque."

His mom put her arms around him and said, "They'd be crazy not to like a wonderful boy like you." She kissed him on the cheek. "Just be yourself and whatever you do, don't bring Peach Face. Don't even talk about him. You don't need him anymore. I guess we had better go to bed. We have a big day tomorrow," she said softly.

Frank tossed and turned in his bed thinking about school. "Why can't it be tomorrow already?" he thought. The tick tocks of his bedroom clock were driving him crazy. He decided to count sheep. He had already counted 500 when he heard a sound under his bed.

He decided it was nothing. 5th graders don't believe in monsters under their beds. They're too grown up for that.

He thought about his very first day of school when he was 5 years old. He felt a knot in his stomach. "I can't be getting sick," he said, "it's just nerves."

He remembered his 1st grade teacher who told him that a good imagination is like a piggy bank filled with silver dollars. He remembered the day on the playground when the other boys and girls laughed at him and called him a baby for having an imaginary friend.

He felt something push underneath the mattress.

"Go away Peach Face! Go away now. You will ruin it for me at school tomorrow. I won't take you to school with me. I won't! You... I don't need you!"