A Friendship To Keep (une amitié à garder)

15TH BIRTHDAY

Previous lines from the book "This Special Friendship":

.....
Resuming his way, Georges raised his eyes to contemplate the stars.
There were as many as he had seen in the July 10th sky, from the dormitory
window, but they promised a luminous morning. It was to the stars that
Alexander had talked of him, and it was to them that Georges now
addressed himself, speaking of Alexander:
"You are not the boy of prayers and tears, but of my love, my hopes, my
certainty. You are not dead; you have only crossed over, for a while, to the
far bank. You are not a god, you are the boy I am, you breathe in me, my
blood is yours. What I have, you possess. As we hoped and wished, we
shall henceforth be together for ever, and it is my turn to say to you, 'How
splendid that is: always!'"
He drew near to the house. He would be entering it with a hidden guest
who would never leave him. A new life was beginning for them. Today's
mourning belonged to the old one. Tomorrow was Georges' birthday, the
first birthday of Georges and Alexander. Tomorrow they would be fifteen.

--------------------------------------------------------------

15TH BIRTHDAY

"A new life will begin for them, as though as the abidance of the ending"

The blustery and gloomy morning of 15th of July arrived, restless and crestfallen. It's holiday break. It was Georges' birthday. He's 15, all grown, mature and strong. The sound from the ground floor of their house is mainly his mother putting up the plates and paraphernalias for Georges' birthday celebration. His extended family was also to come. The clinking noise of the glasses, the plates rattling, and some chit-chats from the first floor filled the house. Going up the stairs will lead to Georges room. The clock was the same sided with the text "The Blue Boy" and "The Red Boy". The room was filled with designs, luxurious thick carpet and a large bed, having only his lampshade dim the room. The room was so silent and dark that melancholy only concurs. Georges was sitting cross-legged in the corner of his room, beside the cabinet, making him almost not visible seen from his door. He is holding a paper and having a tight grip on his knee. The other grip of hand was with the paper that almost crumpled. His eyes were very weary and tired. Heads are bent over, his hand is tightly clutching through his knees that the fabric of his pajamas are almost teared apart. His head started to hurt as his soul, all night, drowned in sorrow. Georges was contradicting the reality and he seemed frustrated of his next little actions. His eyes, closed, that barriers the tears behind his pupils. Georges' chest seems locked, where grief insists to come out but after all, his in denial feelings strongly layered it firmly. Coming from the silence, Georges' sobs empties the room. You can hear his breath shaking while saying a prayer;

Sortez, âme chrétienne, de ce monde
(Go forth, Christian soul, from this world)
au nom de Dieu le Père tout-puissant,
(in the name of God the almighty Father,)
qui t'a créé,
(who created you)
au nom de Jésus-Christ, Fils du Dieu vivant,
(in the name of Jesus Christ, Son of the living God,)
qui a souffert pour toi,
(who suffered for you,)
au nom du Saint-Esprit,
qui s'est déversé sur toi,
(in the name of the Holy Spirit,
who was poured out upon you,)
va de l'avant, chrétien fidèle,
(go forth, faithful Christian,)
Puissiez-vous vivre en paix ce jour,
(May you live in peace this day,)
Que ta demeure soit auprès de Dieu en Sion,
avec Marie, la vierge Mère de Dieu,
avec Joseph, et tous les anges et les saints.
(may your home be with God in Zion,
with Mary, the virgin Mother of God,
with Joseph, and all the angels and saints)

......

He stopped.. suddenly said,
"No, no, no, it isn't right"
He sighed
"You shouldn't..."
"And wouldn't be with them"
....
"For you are to be with me, forever,
My Alexandre", he whispered.
A whimper suddenly came out of his voice. Then he took a glance of the paper he's holding. It's Alexandre's photo. The one given to him by Father Lauzon. Georges', holding the picture and leaning its back to the wall. Everything was brought back to his memory. The memory depicts an image of him and Alexandre in the gardener's hut with haybales. They were playing. There were smokes, there were memories -
and there was, love.