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By Bianca Jones
Every morning when little Tiffy woke up she checked for Skeeter. Tiffy was a bright blue-eyed, rosy-faced urchin, whose smile proudly displays a missing front tooth. Tiffy’s enchanting smile was only matched by her enchanting lisp whenever she tries so intently to say the letter “s”. With her hair, as a golden halo on her head, Tiffy was the manifestation of Goldilocks. Skeeter was her best friend. Many adults might have found it odd that such a little girl was attached to a mosquito of all things, but Tiffy was hopelessly smitten with an oddly large mosquito that would ride on her little shoulder and never bite her.
This morning began like all others, but she would remember it for the rest of her life. Tiffy’s mom Kathy woke her up and dressed her in a bright blue shirt and a skirt so poofy Tiffy giggled the whole way to the breakfast table. Skeeter, to her mother’s reluctance, joined the family at the table.
#
At the table, as they ate their breakfast, Tiffy’s father scolded her for her love of a mosquito, “Tiffy,” he boomed, “do you want a pony? All little girls love a pony, I’ll buy you a pony and we can all be done with this mosquito nonsense.”
“She’s five.” Her mother frowned. “She’s too young for a pony. If she wants to have a mosquito friend there really is no harm…”
“A kitten then?” he gestured, a cantaloupe speared to his fork, ignoring Kathy’s defense. “But she must be done with this delusion, it's unbecoming.”
Tiffy sat and ate her pancake but didn’t really understand everything. She could see that her father was upset but didn't understand how he could be so upset over Skeeter, after all, he was just a mosquito and he was her friend. She turned to ask her mother what delusion meant. Her mother explained that it was something that isn’t real. Now Tiffy was even more confused. Surely Skeeter was real, he’s sitting right there on the table. Tiffy decided that big people were just weird, and soon was distracted by strawberries on her plate.
Skeeter chirped at her; she slid him a strawberry.
“Tiffy.” Her father bellowed.
Tiffy jumped in her seat and looked at her plate.
“Now Charles, there’s no harm done.” Her mother sighed, Tiffy grinned appreciatively at her.
After breakfast, Tiffy’s mom sent her to play in the meadow, her favorite place.
“Company comes at three so you must be home by two,” Mother said.
Tiffy promised and ran to the meadow, loyal Skeeter clinging to her blouse.
#
The meadow was a little dip below their house that a brook ran through on its way to Lake Neverending. On either side of the brook was a carpet of bright yellow flowers and trees lining the beginning of a forest. Tiffy knew not to go into the forest but loved to play with Skeeter on the bank of the brook, pick flowers, and nap under the trees.
Today Tiffy played house by the brook. She walked Skeeter to school and made him a lunch of his favorite sticky sap and leaves. Skeeter always ate the sap first and fussed later about his leaves.
“No, no.” Tiffy shook her head. “You mutht eat your thawad, she lisped.
Skeeter chirped. “You’re just like your mom.”
“Oh no.” Her eyes widened. “Fine then you can have more thap.”
Skeeter slurped his sap and nestled into the leaves. The sun rising over their heads made Tiffy sleepy and she nestled into the ground to take a nap under her favorite tree.
#
Tiffy was blinded by the bright sun as soon as her eyes opened, her little fists rubbing her eyes to clear the sleepies from them. “Oh no!” She must go home for afternoon company Tiffy grabbed Skeeter and ran up the hill as fast as her little legs could take her, and as fast as two breaks to look for bunnies could allow. Reaching the house Tiffy ran in the living room to hushed looming silence. Tiffy looked to her mother to apologize but her father scolded her before she could start. “You see Kathy.” He shook his head. “You enable her with this mosquito nonsense, she is out of touch with reality and irresponsible.”
Tiffy’s little eyes began to cloud and she desperately searched the room full of big people for her mother.
A shrill voice that was not her mother broke into her thoughts. “Why, what mosquito nonsense?” “Oh, she has a pet mosquito,” her father sighed.
Tiffy still searching for her mother accidentally bumped into a tall portly woman who peered down at her. Skeeter fussed nervously, and Tiffy tried to comfort and shelter him on her shoulder.
“Why I do see the mosquito! Dearie, you don’t want that on you”, she said condescendingly to Tiffy. “You know they’re saying now that mosquitos bring diseases.” She whispered nasally to the other adults in the room. “No child of mine would be allowed a mosquito, it’s just not safe these days.” She perched her spectacles on the tip of her nose.
“That’s it.” Her father turned to Tiffy. “You must be done with the mosquito”.
Tiffy began to back slowly away but she bumped into her mother.
“Run along and put Skeeter outside,” her mother said.
“ No,” Her father demanded. “You must kill it. I won’t have something bringing sickness and disease just flying around here.”
Tiffy’s cloudy eyes now spilled over.
“No, I won’t.” she sniffed.
“Such a sweet passionate child,” trilled a voice Tiffy still could not locate.
“I simply won’t indulge this delusion any longer.” her father scowled.
Smack!
Reaching out before she could move her father slapped her shoulder and opened his hand. Lying in the hollow of his palm was Skeeter.
“You knew you couldn’t keep him forever, it wasn’t natural.” Her mother tried to caress her.
But Tiffy did not want to be held. Her once bright eyes were now dark and stormy.
“Here take some cake, you’ll feel better,” her mother soothed. Tiffy tried to eat her cake but the lump in her throat made swallowing impossible. Tiffy sniffed, and leaving her cake, fled to the meadow.
#
Tiffy ran to the meadow but what was once peaceful now mourned. The laughing brook cried out to her, the flowers once sweet were now nauseating and the cake she could eat tasted bitter in her mouth. Tiffy ran to the old pine tree but when she saw the sticky sap all she could think of was Skeeter who loved this place and the taste of the sap. The forest seemed dark and scary like never before, and not even the thought of a baby bunny cheered her.
Tiffy looked around the place that reminded her so of her first friend.
“I’ll mith you Theeter.” She breathed. Slowly she slid down to the ground in the roots of the tree, and curled up to dream of Skeeter flying high in the meadow as she chased him.
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