Big Bobo

The ending is welcoming

The park was the ideal place for a good walk or run on the winding paths. The variety of flowers, shrubs and trees attracted nature lovers and the slender, romantic bridge over the pond was an ideal location for wedding photos. People gathered in the park for open-air concerts, nice chats on the benches or on sunny days like today, for a family picnic. In the shade of a thick tree, tucked behind dense undergrowth, Bobo sat on a bench. He didn't want to be seen by the people on the busy lawn some distance away. Next to the bench was a small blue suitcase. Inside were all the belongings he could take with him; too small shirts and two pairs of sweatpants. He was wearing the oversized shirt Steven had given him. It no longer fit loosely around his body, but showed the round shape of his stomach well. Even the indentation near his belly button was clearly visible. His bomber jacket was open. Not so much because of the warm weather, but he could no longer get the zipper over his stomach. He sat there, bent over and with his face in his hands. He cried. What should he do now? What had he done wrong? His stomach growled with hunger. Maverick had not given him any money. Nothing. He thought back to the time when he had just arrived in the city. It had been so hard to find a job. And it was even harder to get housing. He couldn't go back to prostitution. Maverick was right, he had gotten too fat. No one wanted to sleep with him anymore. In fact, he did not want to return to prostitution. He was too proud for that.

Suddenly he felt a hand gently rubbing his shoulder. Bobo looked up with wet eyes and tried to hide his tears when he saw Erik. He smiled kindly and sat down next to Bobo on the bench. Bobo continued to cry. He was ashamed of his situation, but also happy that it was Erik who was now sitting next to him, and not someone else.

"It's not your fault," Erik said.
'I have known Maverick for a very long time, since primary school. We were good friends then. Both wealthy parents who were more concerned with their careers and ambitions than with their children. Maverick and I understood each other and spent a lot of time together.'

He rubbed Bobo's shoulder again to calm him down. It helped. Bobo stopped crying and Erik handed him a clean napkin that had been in his coat pocket since the last dinner.

'You know, at some point I made the choice to leave my parents and choose my own path. They didn't like that of course. I don't speak to them anymore because of that choice. Maverick had more difficulty standing on his own. I asked him to come with me, but he refused. He got no love, only possession. A villa, a big car, expensive clothes... you know him. But I've also seen him start to behave more and more strangely. You know, boredom. Someone who gets everything and never has to take responsibility looks for excitement. And he found that excitement in you for a while.

Erik moved his hand from Bobo's shoulder to his leg. Bobo allowed it. For a moment he felt safe. Erik had always been kind to him and somehow he enjoyed hearing his story. If only he had told it earlier, different choices would have been made.

"Again, it's not your fault, it's Maverick's own dissatisfaction. After six months he gets tired of his play things. You're gone, the next one is probably already standing in line. He did everything to mainly entertain himself. To feel smart and powerful. It would never have been a friendship.

Hearing all this made Bobo wonder why he didn't realize it sooner. Was he also so blinded by all the splendor that Maverick possessed and of which he himself was a part for a while? Or had he been looking for acceptance? Maybe it was better to go back to Africa and give up his dreams. He had almost died, none of this was worth it. But how did he get back? Perhaps Erik would like to lend him money, but he didn't have the courage to ask. He had already made too much use of other people's money. A tear slid down his cheek. He was disappointed, but also angry. He took Erik's hand and removed it from his leg, after which he indicated that he wanted to be alone.

"What are you going to do?" Erik asked as he stood up.
'Where are you going?'

Bobo shrugged. He probably sat on the bench until he fell dead of hunger. He did not have much hope for a better prospect. Maybe he went into town looking for work. Maybe he had better luck with somewhere to live. Maybe not. He didn't know.

"You can come live with me for a while," Erik said.
'I don't live as big as Maverick, but I have a spare bedroom. You can use it until you have found work and a home for yourself.'

Bobo looked up.

"Why?" he asked.
"How do I know you won't take advantage of me?"

Erik laughed.

'We don't know each other very well, but we're not strangers either, right? Come with me and if you don't like it you'll be gone in no time. No problem.'

Bobo smiled back. This came very unexpectedly, but at the right time. Erik had of course known about Maverick's plan to evict him for some time. With some disbelief he picked up his suitcase from the floor and followed Erik to his car. On the way to his house, Erik told some stories about Maverick and about himself as a kind of introduction. He was very proud of what he had achieved without help from his wealthy parents. His life could have been much easier. He earned his money by working in a luxurious lunchroom. He was actually a chef, but working in a star restaurant caused him too much stress. He had lived for years in a simple house in the suburbs. When Bobo had put his suitcase in the hallway and hung up his coat, Erik led him into the house, where the dining table was already full of homemade dishes...