Youth!

A Little Help From A Friend

I was hanging out with the boys at the skatepark later that week. Yup, the Laurelton skatepark, about a 20 minute walk from home. It was only around five when we got there, so there was plenty of time to mess around and try some stuff. This park was familiar: I had been here when I was like 15 playing ball with some friends. It was a spacious park, as most NYC parks are, you have your basketball courts, playgrounds with metallic slides, water fountains, small tracks to run around, black fences....and as of recently, a nice skatepark. A small one, but enough to sink our teeth into, with some half pipes, stairs and railing. For us beginners, there were some cones and small obstacles to jump over. "Sup guys!" A short asian kid with curly hair said, approaching me and Jake. We introduced ourselves, and he went on his way to practice. I pushed off on my board and started doing my routine ollies. Jake rolled up the bud and Paul got started too.

"Yo, you're really a legend." I joked, looking down at that small black device wrapped around Jake's ankle. "Yeah, this little thing." He grinned. The year before, this kid had gotten involved in some theft and got placed on house arrest. He could be out and about, just had a curfew on certain days. "Man, I got court, got parole officers coming to my crib and shit, it's ass, man." He said. "Well, it's not as if I know what that's like." I said, jumping over a cone. "You gotta stay outta trouble lil bro." I told him. Even though we did dumb shit together, I figured I at least try to give some guidance when I could. He took another pull of the joint. "I know, man, principals talking about some 'alternative school' too, it's like everyone's against me." He said. "It's not like you're a saint at that school, man. You do have a reputation." I told him, hopping off the board to sit next to him. "You curse out teachers, get into fights, stuff that I've done too, when I was your age." I said. He scoffed. "You sound just like the principal." He said.

"All I'm saying is that there are consequences for everything, man. I see some things in you that I used to be doing. Causing trouble." I said. Jake looked like he was getting angry. "They're all some bitches at that school, and you know it!" He yelled. I sighed. "It's your life man. Think about the people who care about you, like your parents. Stop playing victim." I told him. That seemed to hit him, it looked like he was actually thinking for a minute. "Whatever, man." He said. Guess it did, and things got awkward until I just decided to keep skating and drop down the half pipe. When we were all done, Paul and I went to a friends house and sent Jake home in an uber, he said he wasn't feeling well. "Text us when you get home, man." Was the last thing Paul told him. "Yeah." Was his answer. We got on our boards and started heading back to Valley. "What were y'all talking about, anyway?" Paul asked. "Nothing," I said, staring into the setting sun. "That kid can do whatever the hell he wants, not like he listens anyway." I said. Never could I have guessed the ending to Jake's day.

The next day early in the morning, I got a call from Paul. It was really early, and I know Paul sleeps in, which automatically gave me the feeling that something was off. Well something had gone wrong, on Jake's end. Something that would forever change him.  Apparently when Jake got home, he walked in and called for his dad, to which he got no response. It wasn't too weird, he figured he was sleeping. That is, until he walked into his room and found him slumped on the floor. It literally sounds like a horror scene. After panicking, attempting CPR while calling 911, and alerting the rest of his family members as to what had happened, they rushed him to the hospital where he was pronounced dead, the cause of which being a heart attack. He was close to my fathers age at the time, so probably somewhere in his late 50's. Sure, I had friends who lost loved ones and even parents in some cases, but to be hanging out with this kid, who was barely fifteen years old, and hearing how he walked in his house expecting to go to bed and instead finding his deceased father? Man, man, that's fucked up. When he told me, I didn't even know how to react. Prior to this, he would only occasionally talk about his dad. Apparently, 4 years ago he had a stroke, which he lived through, but sustained major brain damage that impaired his ability to communicate, making basic speech a struggle. Even moving became a problem and he would often need help to get up. Still, Jake described his father as being a happy man full of life, and despite not being able to vocalize it, would show his love for life in different ways. He would stand up and get out of bed, no matter how long it took to do so on his own, and look out of the window at the sunlight and nature, and smile upon the world. He donated money to charities and sent clothes to children in his home country of Pakistan in need. He would smile and hug his children, and even gave Jake a vintage NBA jersey from when he was younger for his birthday which looked like it was worth a lot! About a week before his death, he took all day drawing a picture. A basic one, but it spoke volumes: it was of the family, at the beach when Jake was just an unborn baby in his mother's stomach. He could actually be seen as a small circle in his mother's belly. Since she was up there in age, there was high risk while giving birth, and while in the emergency room she caught a high fever and her life was at stake. The picture represented the hope Jake's father had that he and his mother would pull through, which they did. Jake showed me the picture a couple days after his passing. Overall It was a tremendous loss, and I felt terrible, not even knowing what to say besides "I'm sorry." I vowed to be there for him and give my support, and we agreed to hang out the following day.