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it. It was printed with a picture of some kind of monster that had been circled and cut in half by a red slash, like a NO SMOKING sign.
    “What is that?” asked Debbie.
    “A rep from ze pharmaceutical company—a strange-lookingman—came by vith zem last week. Zey are brand-new. Zey are called Ab-Com Patches. Interesting, no?”
    “What do they do?”
    “Well, according to zis representative, zey don’t do anything at all.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “Frequently, kids who have zese imaginary friends are very intelligent, and ze friend is simply a by-product of zeir overactive minds. Ze
last
thing ve vant to do is put zese kids on medication to slow zeir brains down—and zat’s vere ze Ab-Com Patches come in. Ven ze kids vear zem, zey start to really
believe
zat zey are getting medicine to get rid of zeir imaginary friends—and because zey
vant
to get rid of zeir friends, ze friends simply go away. It’s all a trick of ze mind, no drugs necessary. Look here.”
    Dr. Winterhalter picked up a pair of scissors and cut the Ab-Com Patch open. The patch lost its shape, and Debbie could see that there was nothing inside but a little bit of powder.
    “See? Just a vee bit of placebo powder inside. Completely harmless.”
    “Extraordinary.”
    “Ted will be my first recommendation for ze Ab-Com Patch. But ze rep said zat ze patch vas nearly one hundred percent effective in ze test trials.”
    “What drug company makes it?”
    “Ze rep said it vas a small subsidiary of one of those larger conglomerates—Middlemost Pharmaceuticals, I zink he called it.”
    Debbie looked at the Ab-Com Patch.
    “Does it work on pirates?” she said.
    “If it is one hundred percent effective,” said the doctor, “zenyou can be sure it vill vork on a pirate. And more good news: zey are as cheap as a box of bandages. You can pay at ze front desk.”
    “Thank you so much,” said Debbie as the doctor handed her the Ab-Com Patches. A feeling of relief washed over her. Her Ted would be like other kids. He would be happy. These patches were going to fix everything.

XI
    In addition to supplying the box of patches, the doctor instructed Ted to simply ignore Scurvy. He said the patches would take a few days to really start working, and during that time it would be better if Ted didn’t talk to Scurvy, because it would make the break in their relationship easier. The doctor indicated that Scurvy, being predisposed to tantrums, might act up at the prospect of being ignored, but he encouraged Ted to stay strong and just let the medication run its course.
    Ted attached an Ab-Com Patch to his shoulder. Debbie, thrilled by the recent changes in her son’s attitude, patted the patch firmly onto his skin, trying hard to be helpful.
    “Now move around a little,” said Debbie. “Make sure it is really stuck on there.”
    The rest of Ted’s family was sitting at the dinner table, the same as always, waiting to see what happened once the patch was fully attached to his arm. Would his head explode? Would his arm fall off?
    “WHAT IF HE BECOMES A ZOMBIE?” said Grandma Rose. “I CAN’T RUN THAT FAST WHAT WITH MY HIP.”
    “He’s not going to become a zombie, Mother,” said Debbie.
    “Take the patch off, Ted,” said Adeline, pulling at the bottom of his T-shirt, her eyes wet. “You know this isn’t right.”
    Ted hid the patch under his sleeve and bent down to talk to his sister.
    “Everything is going to be fine, Addie,” said Ted.
    “That patch won’t make you happy.”
    “Then
you’ll
have to make me happy, squirt.” Ted tousled Adeline’s hair.
    “You’re being stupid,” said Adeline.
    “You just don’t understand, Adeline,” said Ted. “I’m doing what I need to do.”
    Ted tried not to make eye contact with Scurvy, who was leaning against the refrigerator, watching Ted adjust the patch.
    “Ya don’t know what yer doing, Ted,” said Scurvy somberly, but Ted rolled his sleeve down around his wrist and walked to