Monsieur Baton

I left home when I was 11.
Not because I was forced to but because it had become evident that it was my time to leave.
Evidently it was not evident to everyone, but it was evident to me.
And so I grabbed my red bandanna and filled it with all the necessary supplies and tied it to my favorite walking stick. In French, stick is spelled and pronounced “baton”. You can think of Baton Rouge Louisianna if it helps. But the real reason I am talking about baton is because it is the name of my favorite imaginary friend. Well, Monsieur Baton is his real name, but most the time I call him baton for short.
And simple.
A good imaginary friend is one of the most important things you can bring when you leave home, or on most any adventure really, and the best part is that he hardly takes up any room in your bandanna pouch.
Which brings me to a very interesting subject: how to pack your bandanna for adventure. The fact of the matter is that it doesn’t really matter how long you are going for, the important thing to remember is to pack essentials only, and pack light. I can’t say that enough! Sometimes on the road you have to make quick decisions and there’s nothing worse than having a overflowing bandanna slow you down. Just so you know, Monsieur Baton has been an imaginary friend to a few kids before and he told me he’s seen very bad things happen to children that over pack. You shouldn’t be such a sissy anyway. I don’t really want to scare you, but you should know that you should take what I’m saying really seriously. I mean about not overpacking the bandanna. Of course!
OK, so back to the list: one travel sewing kit, one towel/blanket/magic-carpet type of thing, one band aid, one pack of chewing gum, one cantine (to be filled with H2O before departure), one mini-flask with a good Irish Whisky (not for you if you’re under the legal age), one saucisson from the local butcher’s, one French baguette (or other bread item…Baton likes baguettes), one (and only one!) photograph or two-dimensional relic from home, and last but certainly not least, one imaginary friend (remember three’s a croud and can cause problems on the road). Oh yeah, and save up as many money coins as you can before you leave, and put them in a leather pouch around your waist or something (that’s what I do and it works fine).

I took a train cuz the bus is more for the poor folks and I’m not quite ready for that yet. You never are at the beginning of an adventure!
The train wasn’t so packed and I had one of those seats that has a table and then another seat across from it. So once I got settled I got out some peanut butter and jelly sandwich and Baton sat across from me and we shared it. We didn’t talk much mostly becasause we were a little sad and a little scared. But everything was going to be ok.

Soon it was dark outside and there wasn’t much to look at anymore. I started feeling sleepy so I told Baton to take my teeth and take my bladder and wash my teeth and empty my bladder please, if he could. Just so you know Baton is an amazing imaginary friend, and not all imaginary friends can do that!
As I fell asleep in my dream, I kept waking up and falling asleep and everytime I would wake up I would be standing over myself and watching myself sleeping. So it was a very strange beginning to the nightmare that followed…

Father was a big burly man that I never got to know before I left. He was a business man and did businessy things and was very good at what he did. And he left early in the morning and came home the latest at night. Sometimes his breath smelled horrid, a mix of winter cold and cocktails, mixed with a slight tinge of persperation from walking so fast all bundled up in the cold. Those were the nights he always held you a little longer for some reason. He provided very well for our family. Well, he provided a lot of money so that we were not rich but we never needed anything that we didn’t get eventually. But apart from that, father wasn’t the most social man, he liked to keep to himself, it seemed. And mother and him slept in different rooms: Father had the whole top floor all to himself, and mother slept all alone in the room on the second floor where the father and mother are supposed to sleep. I never got to go up to the third floor, I wasn’t aloud. The most I ever got was a glimpse of the inside before he would shut the door and it was very strange because the ceilings and walls were painted pitch black. So I was very confused about what father did up there but mother told me not to bother with such silly questions.