The house is quiet.
Without the yelling, it’s unnervingly calm. The air conditioning gently hums away, interrupted by the shallow thumps of Jeff’s mother walking around below him. The noise never bothered Jeff, as Buddy was always too busy distracting him.
Jeff threw Buddy into the air and onto his carpet, smiling as the bear sprawled on the ground, looking up at him. He picks up Buddy, but something feels different. Buddy’s fur is warmer than usual; more soothing.
“Don’t worry, Jeff.”
“Okay, Buddy.”
Jeff’s voice, riddled with insecurity, echoes throughout his spacious room, video games and toys looking more like obstacles from Jeff’s perspective on the floor. He’d always gotten used to the loudness of his parents’ exchanges, but ever since Jeff’s father brought Buddy home, he had somebody he could talk to about something other than the house.
It was the first time Jeff had openly talked to Buddy. Jeff would normally play with Buddy in hand, or curl under his sheets and imagine himself with Buddy when the house was particularly loud. Normally, though, Jeff would never vocalize his thoughts to Buddy, Buddy just kind of knew them.
He didn’t have to explain anything to Buddy. Buddy didn’t care about Jeff’s parents because he knew everything there was to know about them, and he wasn’t interested.
Jeff played with the seams on Buddy’s shirt as shelves banged shut downstairs. The sounds stopped for a few moments, but it had no effect on Jeff. Jeff didn’t care about his parents fighting; he just wished he was deaf to it.
Jeff’s father was the one that bought Buddy his only shirt. Jeff had no idea where the shirt came from, but it fit Buddy perfectly, and was just loose enough for Jeff to tell Buddy was comfortable. The shirt wasn’t stitched either; it was a regular shirt, just like Jeff’s.
Jeff had received it when his father arrived home late one night, just before the house went to bed. He walked straight to Jeff’s room, creaked the door open, and handed Jeff the shirt with a smile. When Jeff asked him where he got it from, his father just smiled.
“Buddy told me where to get it.”
His father’s smile was more comforting than most of the ones Jeff expected of him.
And almost as suddenly as he arrived, Jeff’s father sighed and bowed out, patting his son on the head and smiling as Jeff slid the shirt over Buddy.
Buddy still wore the shirt, and without it, he looked incomplete.
“Hey, Jeff.”
Jeff blinked and looked up at his mother, who was leaning against the doorframe.
“Jeff, I’m going to a friend’s house, okay?”
She sighed when Jeff didn’t reply.
“Jeff, please, just listen to me, alright? We don’t have time for this.”
He looked back down at Buddy, and turned him over. Buddy was never very talkative when he was around Jeff’s parents.
“Jeff, put it down and listen to me. I’m leaving, okay? I want you to know.”
A few moments passed, and Jeff’s mother sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, stopping at the crown of her head to clench her scalp. She exhaled, shook her head, and stared at Jeff.
“I’m leaving. Tell your father when he gets home.”
Jeff opened his mouth, but was lost for words. Jeff knew better than to get in his parents’ way, and it made no difference whether or not he approved. All he could do was acknowledge.
“You need to say goodbye to Buddy first, mom.”
Her face flushed as emotions ran through her, and she gave Jeff a stare he’d never seen from her. She belittled him with her stare, and stepped into the room.
“Grow the fuck up, Jeff.”
She pivoted and walked out of the room.
Jeff looked at Buddy, but Buddy didn’t have anything to say.
After that day, Buddy never had anything to say.