Free Calvin by Martine Leavitt

Please.
    Noah: Welp. He was a nice feller and we got some good fishing done.
    We waited. He made coffee for himself, gesturing to Susie with his cup to ask if she wanted some. She shook her head.
    Me: And?
    Noah babied his fire.
    Susie: Did he say anything about—about Calvin?
    Hobbes: Did he say anything about Hobbes?
    Noah: Sure, it come around to that evench. Wasn’t much of a comic reader, myself, but I heard of him, and he chatted about it, brief.
    I waited. He took a long, loud slurp of his coffee, then tipped his head slightly to one side and stared into the mug as if he saw something in it.
    Susie: So do you think he’s sad about Calvin being … over?
    Noah (shrugging): People say stuff when they’re fishing.
    He seemed deep in thought while he said it.
    Susie: What else? Can you tell us anything else?
    Noah: You want me to say something particular, something that will make him seem realer than he was before. But he’s just a man, a mediocre fisherman who likes a poem once in a while.
    Noah looked up at me.
    Noah: He wouldn’t think much of you.
    Right then I believed that with every cell of my body. I wasn’t even angry that he said it—it was like he was stating a fact.
    Susie: You are a rude man.
    Noah: I have traditional values. A man should protect his woman and not put her in harm’s way.
    Susie: I am my own woman, thank you. And he just wants to walk across a lake, not live on it all winter long, like some people.
    Noah:
    Susie: If I were your wife, I would wonder how you could protect me if you were away for months of the year.
    Noah: I’m a poet. We need solitude.
    Susie: So as long as you make a poem out of it, it’s okay to hurt people?
    Noah: Art is the pinnacle of human achievement.
    Susie: Being a decent human being is the pinnacle of human achievement.
    She stood up.
    Susie: You’re being rude to my boyfriend. And furthermore, you’re a chauvinist. Make a poem out of that. Thank you for the beans. Come on, Calvin.
    She started putting on her parka. I was so stunned by the boyfriend word that I couldn’t move. I looked at Noah, but I couldn’t figure out whether to say I’m sorry, or so there. I didn’t know whether I should feel lucky that a girl like Susie would stick up for me, or ashamed that a girl like Susie had to stick up for me.
    Hobbes: Ashamed.
    Me: Huh?
    Hobbes: That’s the answer to the question. Where’s your inner tiger? Didn’t you learn a thing all those years we hung out?
    Susie had her parka on and Noah was staring at the floor.
    Me: Susie, did you just say I was your boyfriend?
    She was putting on her mitts like she wanted to poke her fingers through the ends.
    Susie: Well, you’re my friend, aren’t you? And you’re a boy, aren’t you?
    Me: I’m your friend now? Since you haven’t hung out with me or hardly spoken to me for over a year, it’s been hard to tell.
    Susie: I already told you I was sorry. I was lured into the game of peer politics, seduced by the potential of popularity.
    Me: That was very alliterative of you.
    Susie: And now you have to get over it because—because I get you in a way nobody else gets you. Come on, Calvin, we’ve imposed on this man long enough.
    Noah: Wait. Please.
    We looked at him.
    Noah: It’s dark out there.
    Susie: Calvin, come on.
    Noah: And cold.
    Me (to Susie): No. He’s right. This is messed up, you being out here.
    Susie: This is getting old. We’ve discussed this enough. I’m here. Let’s go.
    Noah: Wait. I think—I think I just figured it out. You helped me figure it out.
    Her arms fell still to her sides.
    Susie: You did? We did?
    Noah: My wife. Please. Sit down.
    Susie sat. Noah looked relieved.
    Susie: What did you figure out?
    Noah: Seeing what you are willing to do for your friend … I have to stop looking for metaphors and look at her. I need to observe her deeply, to make our love