The school wall

by little red pen

When I dropped the Cat at school this morning, his friend was sitting on the wall waiting for him. The Cat threw kisses at his brother and me, grabbed his bag, got out of the car. He and his friend sort of bounced at each other all the way up the hill, grinning and making elaborate gestures with their arms. They’re nice together; they run in wild, ragged circles until they drop into quiet, fat-chewing contemplation. There’s a sparkle in their eyes, a cheeky crooked slant to their smiles.

It’s been a while for my boy since he had a close friend like this. And I love to see it in him, that coltish, loose-limbed connection. I think of everything that my friends have been to me, all that we’ve been alongside each other for — the questions and discoveries, the exploration, the long afternoons and nights of wending conversation, the laughter that takes us to the point of tears, the tears. I hope these boys have a long friendship; I hope they lead each other astray, but not too far, and that they find their way back together.

I think they might make a bit of mischief together. I think that will be okay.