A New Friend for Darius

Little Boys Love To Play, but This Child Wants Something More

“Do you have any questions about your son’s prescriptions for Chlorpromazine or Prozac?” asked the pharmacist.

“No, his psychiatrist explained to me what I needed to know,” the well-dressed woman replied without even a glance at the teenager by her side, “Theodore will take them as prescribed.”

Theodore looked at his mother as she paid for the drugs. He knew the pills wouldn’t make any difference. Darius wasn’t in his imagination.

The drive home was even duller than the appointment with the head shrink.

“I don’t want to take those drugs,” stated the teen, as much to himself as to the woman driving the overpriced station wagon with the ostentatious hood ornament.

“Doesn’t matter, you need them,” rebuked Mother, “You’re a teenager now, and it’s past time to be done with imaginary friends.”

“I don’t have imaginary friends. Darius is real.”

“That’s enough of this conversation. If you can’t be rational, at least be quiet.”

Theodore watched as the mature oak and maple trees zipped past in a blur, partially obscuring the stone and timber houses set behind iron fences in his neighborhood. He wondered how…