Calvin: An Addendum

Calvin: An Addendum

Calvin began his commute like any other day, only today it was raining. He cinched the lapels of his overcoat tighter as he made his way through the bustling morning crowds. The rain poured off the sides of his thin cap as he shuffled down 5th Avenue, side-stepping the puddles as he’d forgotten his galoshes once again.

He’d always wanted to be a Private Investigator or, a dick as he was often referred to these days, but the job never turned into what he’d always imagined it would be. It was just a bunch of sitting around really; waiting for some schlub to make a mistake and then he’d get to be the bearer of bad news. His clients knew not to shoot the messenger but it usually felt that way regardless.

He side-stepped a few Asian tourists typically blocking the busy sidewalk and threw some change on top of a stack of Posts.

“Weather gal said it might rain today. Whaddya think Cal?”

The voice belonged to Hal McGinty, owner / proprietor of this particularly scummy newsstand on the corner of 63rd street. McGinty’s was a place you could get the paper and some information... for a price.

Calvin looked up into the forbidding sky, the rain hitting him square in his rosey cheeks. I wish I could say they got their hue from the cold but I’d be lying if I he wasn’t a friend of the bottle. In his line of work, who could blame him.

“I’d say fifty / fifty.” He responded.

McGinty chuckled.

“You got anything for me this morning?” Asked Calvin.

“Nothing today Cal. People keep buttoned up in this kind of weather... in more ways than one, if you know what I mean.”

McGinty had a tendency to add that last bit onto most everything he said.

“Just the Post then.”

Calvin snuck the folded paper into the small opening in his jacket. He’d be lucky if it was halfway readable by the time he got to the office.

He nodded his cap and turned back onto 5th and made it a few steps before bumping into a particularly large gentleman in his own rain-slicked overcoat.

“Well, excuse me buddy!” He shouted at the departing figure. Asshole, Calvin thought as he turned back around.

But a few steps later, a thought occurred to Calvin. A feeling he hadn’t felt in a lifetime. There was something about that gentleman. Something about his walk or the softness of the impact or the... orange feet that protruded...

Calvin spun around only to find that the man, the one who had so carelessly bumped him just a moment before, was standing, just a few paces from where he had last seen him. The rain poured off his coat as well but it didn’t seem to bother him. He stood there motionless, as the commuting crowd parted around him.

Calvin didn’t know why he’d stopped or why he’d turned. He didn’t know why he cared. And he certainly didn’t know why the only thing he could think was it can’t be.

The man began to turn around very slowly.

Calvin starred. The rain, the people, even time seemed to slow as the gentleman’s front revealed itself. He was tall, maybe 6’ 2,” which was tall for Calvin who’d never sprouted higher than the doctor’s predicted 5’ 8” frame. He wore a similar coat to Cal’s and it was beat-up in all the same places. It hung low though and obscured his feet.

How curious, thought Calvin.

The rain careened off the brim of his cap as he carefully lifted it to reveal his face.

He looked a little older. Maybe in his 40’s. Clearly time had not been good to him. The patches that once were white, now a distinguished gray. The orange had faded in places but it was, without a doubt and unmistakably, Hobbes.

He looked like he needed a shave, which was a funny thing to think about about a tiger

Oddly enough, no one else seemed to notice him. Not that he was blocking their path and not that he was an above average height tiger, wearing a raincoat and standing in the middle of the sidewalk outside of Nosh’s Deli.

Somewhere, in the deep recesses of his mind, Calvin thought that this might not be a safe place for such a ferocious beast. But the thought was fleeting and it passed.

Calvin could only stare. Had it been years? Decades?

Hobbes stared straight back at his old friend with a similar look on his face. Then slowly his old, weathered cloth face turned into a grin and then a penetrating smile. His white teeth hadn’t lost their shine.

Calvin’s face twitched. He felt muscles move that hadn’t in years and realized he too was smiling. It was a strong, deep smile; one that showed off his nicotine stained teeth. It hurt in a way but oh man, was the best kind of hurt.

For some reason he thought, I should call Susie.

They stayed there, in the rain, just smiling, for what could have been an eternity for all they cared and then Hobbes raised his right paw. A wave. A small gesture one might offer across a party to an old colleague, an old acquaintance... an old friend.

Calvin pulled his small hand out of his coat pocket and reciprocated. Rain trickled down his face but he didn’t mind. It blended nicely with the few warm tears he shed.

Hobbes nodded his cap, cinched his coat up tight in the collar and winked. With that he turned and walked away. Within moments he was gone; disappeared into the hustling bustling masses of the city’s morning routine.

There was a hint of sadness in Calvin but the smile would not leave his face. He didn’t care about the rain so much anymore, frankly he didn’t even notice it.

He turned to cross 63rd street but as the signal changed, he paused.

There was a particularly large pothole in the crosswalk, one the city would get to fixing in a few years, and it was positively overflowing with rain water.

Calvin started across but instead of plotting his course around the hazard (much to the surprise of his fellow commuters) he took a running start and jumped straight into it with a giant GALOOSH!!!

He pulled his soaked loafers one by one out of the foot deep hole and continued across the street, leaving several confused citizens in his literal wake.

The smile creased the corners of his mouth as he turned left onto 68th street and just then, the sun broke free of the clouds.


We miss you Bill Watterson.


By: Shaques