“Tell me Mark”, the doctor interrupted. “You say that you wonder if John will
turn out like all of the male friends in your life that always left. Tell us about those friends.”
I looked around the room at the nine men sitting in a large
circle in the small room on the second floor of an office park on the west edge
of the city. The faces had become
familiar over the past couple of months as we met here each Thursday as a part
of a court mandated treatment program. My eyes turned to my right where the doctor sat,
holding his yellow legal pad, occasionally writing something down.
As I reflected on his question, I could feel my chest start
to tighten. Friends? Had I really ever had any? I’d had a lot of professional acquaintances over the past 30 years, but none that I would call “friend”. My mind started to search the deeper
recesses of my memory. I could
feel the heat of the tears even before I could feel them start to leak from the
corner of my eyes.
“I guess I could say that I some guys that I would say
were friends when I was in grade school.” The vision of my two first real friends came to my
mind. Mike and Dennis. We had started grade school together and
had the same teachers from first through fourth grade. I’m not sure what made us such close
friends.
We had very little in common. Mike was a little kid, smaller than the rest of us. Dennis was tall and lanky. We did everything together at the Old
Farmin Elementary School.
None of us was exceptionally athletic or gifted at playing the ball
games going on out on the play fields and would walk around the field just
talking or laughing. Sometimes,
we’d go chase the girls and I’d laugh even more because Mike and Dennis were so
slow. I remembered those days
fondly as I sat there reminiscing.
But things change.
“I was really close to a couple of boys when I was in
grade school, but it didn’t last”, I continued. “We did everything together for four years, but Mike’s
family moved between our fourth and fifth grade year.”
The new school.
More tears leaking from my eyes.
Change and loss. The
summer after the best school year of my life with Mrs. Walters became the worst
summer of my life. Mike’s dad got
a job in a Montana. I had spent a
day fishing with him and his dad that summer. He was a quiet kid with a big round face and a smile that
was infectious. I don’t remember
even getting to say “good-bye”. He
just wasn’t there when school started in the fall.
It was the summer that started with my first ever “birthday
party” for a school mate. And it
was a girl. A girl that I really
liked. One of the girls we chased
in grade school. My first crush.
An awkward, painful afternoon.
A movie date at a matinee at the Panida Theater. More awkwardness. Embarrassment. Fear. Rejection.
It was the summer that I did “those” things for the neighbor
boy for a handful of candy.
Redhots. Under the big
Cedar tree out in the woods.
Others watching.
Shame. Pleasure? Confusion. Definitely changed.
“We moved to a new school for the fifth grade and all of
the classes were mixed up. Mike
was gone and Dennis wasn’t in any of my classes. At the first of the year, we tried to get together at recess
but our lunches were at different times.
He got new friends and I guess I didn’t. I kind of pulled into a shell. Nothing seemed to be the same and I think I was just kind of
lost. I just felt different and
didn’t fit in with any of the other groups.”
I paused and looked around the room. Eighteen eyes watching me. Eyes of compassion? Eyes of men who had a shared
experience?
“Were Mike and Dennis the only ones?” the
doctor asked.
The tears started flowing. “No. There
was Cliff.”