Aaron was seven when he first laid eyes upon Gerald. He was seven years old, and had just gotten over the chickenpox. Two weeks in bed and shut off from the world had left him restless, and when his mother finally allowed him outside into the bright light that was the sun, he felt exhilarated and skipped along the street to his favorite haunt.

The beach.

Except he didn�t quite make it to the beach. Along the way, seven-year-old Aaron stopped dead in his tracks in front of a toy shop which was decorated for Halloween. Even though it was eighty-nine degrees out, Aaron still managed to get himself pumped up for his favorite holiday. His mother had given him some pocket money (for being a �good little boy� and not scratching too badly or screaming too much at his sister when she made fun of all his �sphots�) and it was burning a hole in his little pocket. The money was for a drink at the beach, because his mother always worried he�d get dehydrated, but Aaron figured he could just drink from the ocean. It was salty, sure, but spending money in a well-decorated toy shop seemed more important than having to drink salt water for the next few hours.

He pushed on the glass door and a bell dinged somewhere above his head, announcing his arrival. The toy store was deserted, probably because it was a school day�or maybe because it was so nice out that no one wanted to get stuck in a little dingy, dimly lit shop.

There was a balding man behind a large oak counter, cleaning his spectacles on his crisp white apron; he finished, adjusted them against his nose and peered at Aaron curiously.

�Shouldn�t you be in school, sonny?�

Aaron looked up from a display of plastic bats and spiders and held up an arm for the man to look at. He didn�t need to say anything, his disappearing spots said enough.

�Chickenpox are one of life�s most annoying illnesses,� the man said conversationally, leaning against the counter as Aaron went back to the display.

Aaron reached out and felt a rather realistic looking dagger, finding that it was slimy and plastic beneath his touch. He let his hand drop in agitation. He had desperately wanted the dagger to be real. �I�m not contagious anymore. My mom said I could go outside.�

The old man laughed. �That�s good to hear.�

Completely annoyed with the Halloween selection, Aaron spun around and peered up at the old man behind the counter; his brown hair bobbed this way and that when he moved, making it hard for the man to hold back his laughter. The little boy�s hair was bigger than he was.

�You got any cool toys here, mister?�

The man smiled and walked away from the counter, towards the back of the store; Aaron followed curiously. When the man came to a stop, Aaron fought to keep his balance as he nearly ran into him.

Aaron was then face to face with a pair of huge brown eyes and a little black button nose. He blinked a couple of times and then looked up at the proprietor of the shop. �What�s this?�

�It�s a bear.� Well, yes, obviously it was a bear. But why would Aaron want a bear when he could have a cool sword?

�I want a sword,� Aaron said bluntly, shifting his feet around in boredom. �Got any of those?�

The man ignored his question. �This is magic bear. See how fluffy he is? He�s good to sleep with. He keeps kids company in the dark, if they happen to be afraid��

�I�m not afraid of the dark,� Aaron told him quickly, shaking his head. It just so happened that Aaron was afraid of the dark, but he had a reputation to keep up, after all, and couldn�t just go around town blurting out his biggest, most embarrassing secret.

�I didn�t say you were,� the man replied placidly, handing the bear down to the little boy and smiling. �This bear is good for lots of things, not just for keeping kids company.�

�Like what?� Aaron asked, slightly intrigued as he surveyed the bear in his arms. It certainly was fluffy, and brown, and really very soft. And kind of cute, too. If you like bears, that is, which Aaron didn�t.

The man went about straightening board games in the row across from the stuffed animals. �Well, he�s a great listener. And he�s really good when people are sick. He�ll watch TV with them, or sit with them while they eat chicken noodle soup.�

Aaron had had enough chicken noodle soup in the past week to get him through the rest of his life; he made a disgruntled face at the man, but clutched more tightly to the bear. It sure would be nice to have him in his room, since he wasn�t allowed back in school for another couple of days.

�Does he play video games?�

�No,� the man answered nicely. �But he can watch while you play. He could be a good luck charm.�

Aaron considered this. He really did need a good luck charm, since he was tired of everyone beating him at his favorite games.

�Okay,� Aaron said decisively. �I think I might want to buy him. For my sister.�

�How nice of you,� the man said, heading back to the counter with Aaron at his heals. �Your sister�s lucky to have a brother like you.�

Aaron nodded casually. �Yeah, I tell her that everyday.�

The man laughed pleasantly, tapped a few keys on the cash register and then slid the near bear into a paper bag emblazoned with the toy shop�s name in bright purple letters. �$5.30 please, sir.�

Aaron dug around in his pocket and produced a five dollar bill, along with a couple of quarters. The man handed him back his change, and the bag.

�Tell your sister to take good care of this bear,� the man said with a wink and a smile. �He�s very special.�

Aaron looked into the bag and then back up at the man. �I know. See ya!�

He skipped to the front door and pushed it open, jingling the bell as he did so. Once outside, he walked briskly down the street and out of sight of the toy store; he leaned against the brick wall of a coffee shop and peered into the bag with a huge smile.

�I think I�ll call you Gerald.� He nodded, happy with this decision. Aaron looked up and down the street to make sure he wasn�t being watched and then he whispered into the bag, �Hey, Gerald. Want me to teach you how to play Mario Brothers?�

With another smile, he headed back home, ready to tackle the next level of the game, and maybe even have some chicken noodle soup.