He showed up one afternoon about four years ago, without warning. After years of passing down that familiar street, one day, he was simply there. In his checkered black-and-red shirt, dark blue cut-off jean shorts, and bare feet, he was tall, impossible to miss, and a sight to remember.

Most would call him scary, but we are not most people. Nini, TaiTai, and I liked him instantly. We were all fascinated. Except Nattie. To her, he isn’t just horrific; he is… well, she can’t even find the words.

We could hardly believe our eyes. Where did he come from? When did he move in? Whose brilliant idea was this? We had no answers and no way to satisfy our curiosity, but none of that mattered. We named him, and we get excited to see him every time.

He visits every year in late September, stays for a few weeks, and is always gone by Christmas. We’ve come to expect him on our way to school, while running errands, or simply out and about. He’s just… there. We always look for him, and sometimes, we even wave. After all, he’s become a familiar figure in our lives.

He might be a ten-foot-tall werewolf, but to us, he’s Christopher, my sister’s friend.

Photo by A. DeRose