Snafu

By TK Wade

Have you ever had an imaginary friend? Ever wondered if he was still out there somewhere? Does being imaginary mean that he doesn’t really exist? This is a story about a real imaginary friend! Snafu was a snake, but not a creepy snake like you find in your back yard. He was fluffy like a giant caterpillar. “Snafu” by T.K. Wade is about the life and times of a real imaginary friend. Through his life, he went to places that may seem beyond imagination, but such things are like home for the little guy. Join him on a thrilling and magical adventure into places that you thought could only exist in dreams!

• Language: English
• Publisher: TK Wade
• Release date: Jul 9, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311045058

TK Wade

T.K. Wade is a writer based in coastal North Carolina. His favorite author is L. Frank Baum who has inspired a great deal of his work. Although he specializes in children's literature, he enjoys writing in nearly every genre under the sun. He spends most of his time writing in a room filled with plush animals. Also, you can read his blog at http://tkwadeauthor.blogspot.com/Please enjoy!

Book preview

SNAFU

by

T.K. Wade

SMASHWORDS EDITION

*****

PUBLISHED BY:

T.K. Wade on Smashwords

Illustrated by:

Coy Fields II

Snafu

Copyright © 2015 by T.K. Wade

Thank you for purchasing this eBook. This book may not be reproduced, copied, or distributed.

Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

*****

Snafu

*****

Table of Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1: Born of Snow

Chapter 2: The Playful Years

Chapter 3: The Other Side of Reality

Chapter 4: Nowhere in Particular

Chapter 5: The General

Chapter 6: Primetime

Chapter 7: Separate Ways

Chapter 8: Prodigy

Chapter 9: The Unknown Lingering Problem

Chapter 10: Changing His Mind

Chapter 11: That First Step

Chapter 12: The Rescue Mission

Chapter 13: The Man with Few Boundaries

Chapter 14: The Impossible Escape

Chapter 15: Meet the Banduwits

Chapter 16: Nigel and I

Chapter 17: Only What Can Be Believed

Chapter 18: The Battle

Chapter 19: The Birth of Imaginology

Chapter 20: The Uncharted Island

Chapter 21: Flying

Chapter 22: The Artist

Chapter 23: The Love of a Princess

Chapter 24: The Warrior

Chapter 25: The Twins

Chapter 26: The Cookie Lady

Chapter 27: Too Many Questions

Chapter 28: Onward to Adventure!

Chapter 29: Paper

Chapter 30: My Mouse Boy

Chapter 31: The Problem with Time

Chapter 32: Belief

Chapter 33: The Boy Who Everyone Knew

Chapter 34: Grand Inspiration

Epilogue

A Final Word from Jeffery Gibbler

Introduction

My name is Jeffery Gibbler. I am not the author of this book. When I was writing this book, everyone kept asking me why I was writing it. I told them that I was not really writing it, but that I was listening to Snafu tell me what to write. It is annoying to hear people tell me that I am cute because I was letting an imaginary friend tell me what to write. Snafu is imaginary, but they say it like he is not real. That is annoying, so stop it.

I am not cute; I am a serious person. I watch the news a lot and talk to people about it. I have a job, and I am responsible with the money that they pay me. I read books with words in it and not the ones with pictures. I do not even like books with pictures. I think they should have separate books with pictures in them rather than combining the two types. That way, if you want pictures, you just get the book with the pictures. The way some books do it is wrong.

My mom likes to put dumb looking hats on my head. I do not like multicolored things. She thinks I accidentally misplace them a lot, but I am really burying them. I cannot wear them because I am not cute; I am serious. I wrote this here to prove my point, but now I cannot let my mother read this. If she argues with me about it, I will make a version with the introduction removed, but that will mean that the book is not as good, because this part is important.

Snafu is a fluffy, furry snake. He is not a caterpillar. Stop calling him that. I saw him one day–even though he was invisible. Nobody understands me when I say that, and I do not know why. He talks to me a lot, and I love him. He is a very weird talker. He uses contractions a lot which I do not like typing. I like to keep my words separated the way they were meant to be. He says they make speech more casual sounding, but I do not like them.

In this story, Snafu will dictate to me what I am going to write. There will be many contractions because that is just how he talks. I will not enjoy that. He is a very nice snake, and he is real. You need to pay attention to what he says because he has been on many adventures and knows more than any of you reading this. This ends my introduction.

Chapter 1

Born of Snow

How did I begin? Where was I born? Who were my mother and father? If I were human, I might ask these questions, but the truth is that I don’t really have a reason to. People who have a reason to ask these questions would not have a fantastic life such as mine.

My name is Snafu, and I am a real, imaginary friend. You may ask me, Snafu, if you are real, are all other imaginary friends real? and I would answer that with a resounding, Yes! But you might also ask me, Are you better than the average imaginary friend? and I would also say, Yes! You might think that that sounds like I am not being very modest, and you would be right. I am not very modest. I only say what is true. I am Snafu, and as the gods be my witness, I… am… awesome!

So that the readers of this story understand, I am a snake. Now when you hear the word snake, what do you think about? You probably think about one of those slimy, slithering, scaly creatures that wriggle across the dirt and scare women up on top of tables. I am nothing like that; although, if I did scare a woman on top of a table, I would find that hilarious! (That never happens to me.)

To be clear, I am a furry snake. I do not have scales. I am a white, fluffy snake. I am warm blooded like that of a mammal. I am also very cute. Do not take that last sentence lightly. My cuteness has been called the most endearing of all the imaginary creatures created by man. I am rivaled by no one. When I look into your eyes, you will melt.

Unlike your common, ordinary snake, I do not see with my sense of taste. I have big, beautiful eyes that see as people do. This gives me an advantage to my non-imaginary cousins. I use these boons greatly, for they were given to me with a purpose. These eyes also come in handy for another reason, for if I dance and stare deeply into your eyes, I can will you into a trance, and for a time, you will be mine. You will sleep and I will enter your dreams. I do not do this out of malice; I am merely playing with you.

I think that one of my greatest gifts was my undeniable power to love. It is so strong that even I feel it. I can create a warmth in your heart so powerful that I’ll have you flat on your back before you can say a word. I am loyal to the bitter end, and only you can turn your back on me. As I have learned, that is a very unwise decision, but we will go into that issue later.

Remember back when I was asking questions? Well, now that I think of it, perhaps those questions might be sensible after all. I had to come from somewhere, right? Truthfully, I really did. I was imagined. But then, if you think about it, many people imagined me. However, it had to start somewhere. His name was Alex Wolf.

Alex was a quiet boy–pretty unimpressive, as boys go. He was lonely, of course. Why would a boy with tons of friends need me? That would be tragic on my end, as I would get the short end of the stick. Either that or he’d be a total reject for talking to invisible things. No, it’s very good it turned out like this.

It was snowing. I’m not sure where, but it was a place where snow was very common. Now, Alex lived where there were a lot of trees. In the winter those trees shed a lot of sticks and branches. This may be hard to believe, but I was once a tree. Well, no… that’s not true. I was not so much the tree but one of its branches; at least, that’s how I see it. I had fallen from the tree and into the snow, and as it snowed more, I became covered in it.

Enter Alex Wolf: he had just stepped out to have a walk in the snow, and that was when he saw me. I didn’t pay much mind to it, being a stick and all. Us sticks aren’t very social. We just sorta lie around all day and don’t get much done. So, the fact that he stopped to look at me wasn’t terribly interesting.

This is getting to the moment of my birth, so let me put this into perspective for you readers. Never underestimate the imagination of a child. Adult imagination is strong as well but completely outmatched. A child’s imagination is so bursting with potential and creativity that there is virtually nothing that it cannot do. This is absolutely true. I consider myself to be a well-educated expert on the matter. There is nothing stronger in the universe.

What Alex had was what was needed to create something real. True, yes, it was imaginary, but what does that mean? Is imagination any less than what we can see, hear, and touch? Readers, do not let yourselves be fooled by those things! This goes beyond all that!

Alex looked upon that snow-covered, curvy stick, and he did not see a snow-covered, curvy stick. What he saw was a white, fluffy snake, and in that moment–in that beautiful logic-defying moment in time–I was created!

I was not sure what to do. Only moments before, I had eager aspirations to lay there and do stick things for the rest of my days. Now, all I wanted to do was to slither about and do things… fun things! Mind you, I never really knew what a stick would aspire to be; I was only guessing. But I assure you that what I aspired for in snake form absolutely had to be at least twenty percent better than the aspirations of a stick. I hope what I am saying does not insult any sticks, but I am pretty sure that the sticks of this particular world cannot read, so I should be in the clear.

Not to get sidetracked, but I really was filled with a sincere yearning to… well, simply be me! But at the time, I wasn’t sure what I was. Alex had prepared for such an occurrence. The boy looked at me as if he knew me all of his life. I looked into his eyes, and I felt the same for him. (Although, that was kind of cheating on my part as I had not lived as long as he.) Through this stare, I realized that I was more than just merely alive; I was his friend. I was his playmate. I was here to drive his loneliness away. Most importantly, I realized that I was real.

I’ve heard that some imaginary friends have a distinct problem understanding this very concept. The child is partly to blame for this. Doubt can be a tremendous bane to an imaginary friend, and whereas it usually cannot be completely extinguished, the less there is of it, the stronger we are as a species. Alex Wolf wanted to believe in me so badly that the poor boy solidified my form permanently into whatever realm I was to exist in. He believed in me. In his heart, he knew that I was real. This is as close to perfection as I have ever heard, and I was extremely esteemed to come to that realization.

When our locked gaze was complete, the astounding thing was that we both knew that we had seen each other. There was a vivid level of comprehension on both of our parts that we had connected and that the two of us were now best of friends. This friendship was as if it has always been–even though it had just formed. There was no need for introductions. There was no need to learn from each other. (Although, I was still required to adapt.) We had our entire lives to look forward to. And so it began: the friendship of Alex Wolf and Snafu the imaginary friend. What imaginable adventures awaited us; these stories must be told.

Chapter 2

The Playful Years

Ah, learning. I love learning, and even to this day, I still learn. Those early years with Alex were probably the most intense. I had the challenging responsibility of learning exactly how being an imaginary friend worked. It’s different for everyone, so I’ll do my best to explain my connection with Alex.

The first thing that I realized was that Alex was not actually able to see me–at least not with his physical eyes. This was not always the case throughout my life; however in this instance, he had only his mind’s eye. Now, this doesn’t mean I am invisible. Alex always knows where I am, and when he looks at me, our eyes make contact. At the time, he was the only one who could do that with me; everyone else would either step on me or something. Very aggravating! Alex defended me though!

Just like with his normal eyes, his normal ears could not hear my illustrious voice! When I spoke, Alex still heard every word I said. The only thing that was weird about it was that he would mumble everything I was saying at the same time that I was saying it. I later found out that this was very normal. I guess there’s some psychology behind it… some sort of need to actually hear what I am saying with his real ears. You see, others seem to do this too. It’s very common.

Physical contact was also strange. Only possible within a dark room or with his eyes shut, the only way he was able to touch me was if he was holding a plush