Thursday, June 23, 2005

Bobby

Every June I think about Bobby. (He comes to mind at other times during the year, of course, but during June especially because it was on a sunny L.A. day in June when I last saw him.)

Bobby and I were polar opposites in a lot of ways...and not just because I was black and he was white. Bobby short and waif-like; I was tall and bear-like. Bobby was effusive and gregarious (due to a bubbly nature that he chose not to try to restrain); I was reticent and aloof (due to shyness more than arrogance.) Bobby loved rhythm and blues to exclusion of any other kind of music; I liked r&b but I was also an unabashed rock and roll guy. Polar opposites...and, for too brief a season, the best of friends.

Bobby and I attended Louis Pasteur Junior High and during our 9th grade year...1970-1971...we came together. Honestly I really don't remember exactly how or when...it just seems like he was always there during that year. We laughed at things that other people didn't get at all...we shared things (dreams and the like) with each other that teenaged boys didn't often easily share with others...sometimes we fought like brothers (and made up without anyone saying "I'm sorry" out loud.)

Bobby and I were indeed best friends.

The last day we spent together was sunny day in June...the day we "graduated" Junior High. The school auditorium was too small to allow the class to graduate altogether while accommodating friends and family who wanted to be there so the class was split...half attending a ceremony in the morning, the rest having their "graduation" in the early afternoon. My ceremony was in the morning; Bobby's, almost as a matter of course, was in the afternoon.

I went through my ceremony, then got congratulated by family and friends and then I waited alone outside the auditorium while Bobby went through his. I waited for him to be congratulated by his family and then we, still resplendent in our new suits, went off to celebrate the day together. We went to McDonald's for lunch, chatting up some girls we knew from school who happened to be there too. We walked the neighborhood, talking about what we were going to do during the summer, ending up at an amusement arcade (playing pinball and miniature golf.) We went to a local department store to buy 45's...r&b for him...rock for me.

We lingered on the corner where our paths home diverged for the longest time, talking about everything and nothing. And then we went our separate ways.

The next day I was on a plane heading for a summer in Pennsylvania (where my grandmother and the rest of my father's side of the family lived.) When I got back, Bobby had moved (his mother moved them a lot...I was never sure why) and I never knew where he had gone.

I've always wondered what happened to Bobby (I've searched online occasionally but have found nothing...maybe it's for the best, maybe the fondest memories are intended to be just that...memories.)

I've imagined that he found a great love, someone who embraced his wonderfully weird sense of humor and his open heart and his r&b soul, and has lived happily ever after being who he wanted to be and doing what he wanted to do. Yeah, that would be cool...and I pray that it is just so (after all, that's what best friends do for each other, right? :-)

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