Jonathan and Other Weird Stories

Jonathan (two)

Jonathan came when night fell again. Funmi had been awake with her eyes shut, waiting and thinking of him, and when her eyes opened, he was there, standing. She was not surprised to see him; she knew he would come. He told her the other night. He said he was her friend. She believed him, and he became her only friend. Funmi had no other. People only talked to her when they sought to make fun of her. They called her a mouse—she was the smallest girl around, and when she spoke, it seemed like she was squeaking.

Jonathan sat by her bedside. 'Trouble sleeping?' His voice sounded like he was singing—it did not sound that way the night before.

Funmi nodded. 'I always have trouble sleeping,' she said, laying on her back. 'Do you want to lay on the bed, beside me?'

'I'd like that.'

Funmi moved, making space on her bed, and he laid down right beside her—his skin touching her own. She felt it; she could very much feel him, just as she could feel her bed. 'I told my elder sister about you today. I told her you are my friend. She laughed and said you aren't real. She said I was seeing things, and you were only in my head.'

Jonathan laughed. 'But that is ridiculous.'

'I know, right? So, I insisted. I told her you are real. I touched you and held your hand. She didn't smile anymore. She stared at me horridly, then she ran to my mother and told her I was keeping imaginary friends again.'

'You used to keep imaginary friends before?'

Funmi nodded. 'My mother was very worried. She grabbed my arms and looked at me closely. Her eyes were bloodshot and almost teary. When she spoke, droplets of spittle touch my face and the smell of egusi soup wafted into my nose. She yelled into my face, trying to convince me you aren't really here, and I must stop thinking about you. I could not believe her. Her jaw dropped and a tear slipped off her eyes. She was terrified.'

'Why was she so scared?' Jonathan asked.

'Bad things happen when I keep imaginary friends. But I don't think there are such things as imaginary friends. If I imagine something so hard that my mind projects it, so that I can see it and touch it, so that it becomes real, then it is real, right? I mean, how do we know that everything we see isn't imaginary? How do we know life isn't more or less like a dream in the first place? But perception becomes reality, right? If I can perceive something, then it becomes real.' Funmi smiled weakly. 'I'm sorry. I think too much.'

'It's fine,' Jonathan said. He turned his body, to lay on his side and keep his gaze on Funmi. She did the same, and soon their faces were only inches apart. 'I enjoy listening to you, and I think you are right. The human brain is a very powerful organ, capable of creating anything—also, capable of creating everything.'

Funmi chuckled. 'So, you agree?'

'I just think what is real and what isn't, shouldn't matter. There should be no general law for what is real, instead, it should depend on each person's perception. So, if you can perceive me, no one should tell you I'm unreal.'

Funmi laughed in excitement. 'That is exactly my thoughts.' In that moment, she wondered how his mind and hers held the same ideas, as though they were in sync. She looked at him and gazed into his eyes, they were beautiful indeed, like obsidians. He smiled. She smiled too. He was real. He had to be real. She had never known anything more real than Jonathan. It was only the second night, but she felt like she had known him all her life. She trusted him, with her life. She wanted him to know it. She had never known anyone so pure and so true, almost magical.

Jonathan touched her cheek and caressed her face. It was weird—she had wanted him to do it and he did. His warm fingers traced a line along her face to her chin; she held her breath every step of the way. 'What did your mother do when she learnt about me?' he asked.