The Imaginary Friend

Her name was Who Who. Only I could see her. She was two inches tall.

I don't remember having any friends who were my same size until I started kindergarten. It was just Mom and me at home, and mostly me playing on my own. Just as in “Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush,” Mom did the washing on Monday, the ironing on Tuesday, and the floors on Wednesday. In those days she cooked a meal every single day: meatloaf, chicken, spaghetti, various casseroles, and, without fail, beans, peas, and corn were included in predictable rotation, with white bread or rolls on the side. When Mom wasn’t reading the newspapers or her magazines, or sewing, baking, or hauling me around with her from store to store, I think the phrase I heard most was: "I'm busy, go play." 

My playmate was a very tiny little girl with blond plaits, each tied with a blue ribbon at the end. Who Who and I liked playing in small spaces. Closets were perfect. There was the closet at the bottom of the stairs where Mom placed a few old dresses and shoes for me to use to play dress-up and act like a grown-up. Who Who and I would play make-believe together for hours. The bottom of the closet in my bedroom became a Barbie house that I set up with furniture I made out of scraps of wood or paper. I painstakingly created a three-dimensional refrigerator, stove, and dresser for my dolls from sturdy card stock Dad had brought home from work. Scissors, glue, a little tape, and color pencils were my tools. I made a couch out of a piece of a 2x4 and baseboard. With my toy-size hammer and a few brads, the two pieces went together easily. Who Who was there to help me figure it all out.

Who Who and I listened to 45s on my little Victrola with the RCA dog logo on the front. Our favorite was a recording of the story of Sleeping Beauty. We had to switch over to the second side after the twelfth fairy said, “There she will prick her finger on a spinning wheel and fall down dead!” It was scary, but Who Who was there.

Who Who was very smart, I thought. She would often advise me and I would tell Mom the things she would say like: “Who Who doesn’t like liver and onions and thinks I should have a hotdog instead.” Mom thought Who Who was smart, too, except she called her a smart aleck, and I still had to eat liver and onions. 

Who Who was a very loyal friend for many years. Even after I started school and started to meet people my own size, Who Who stuck around and was there when I needed her. She was my first best friend.

Copyright DJ Anderson, 2015