The Choir He Wanted, The LIfe He Had

Wednesday, February 7, 1935

Today is my birthday! That year, I turned seven. I still went to school (obviously), but I didn't tell very many people that it was my birthday. I only told my friends, the first of whom was Roger.

It was only a few minutes after I had sat down at a table that Roger sat down across from me.

"What's new?" Roger asked.

"I'm seven today," I replied.

"Cool," Roger said, looking down. I stared at him for several minutes until he looked up and asked,

"Is something wrong?"

"I'm a year older," I said.

"Okay..." Roger said. "People get older all the time. What, do you want a medal or something?"

"Aren't you going to say 'Happy Birthday'?" I asked.

Roger sighed.

"Happy birthday," he said. "Is that good enough? You want me to sing to you?"

"Never mind," I said. "You ruined it."

"Good," Roger said. "I like ruining things. It's fun."

I didn't respond. Roger looked to his right and suddenly he said,

"Oh, great."

I looked in the same direction and saw Ralph walking towards us.

"What do you have against him?" I asked.

"Everything," Roger replied.

"Hey, Jack!" Ralph said as he got closer. "What are you talking about?"

"Today's my birthday," I said.

"Happy Birthday!" Ralph exclaimed.

"Thanks," I said. It wasn't very enthusiastic and Ralph noticed this.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said sarcastically, "Why don't you ask Roger?"

When Ralph looked at Roger his smile faded. Roger was staring at him with a scowl that said: "I want to hurt you." It scared me.

"Hey," Ralph said. Roger smirked in a way that looked even scarier than the scowl.

"Hello," he said.

"Why do you hate me?" Ralph asked.

"I hate everybody," Roger replied.

"You don't hate Jack," Ralph said.

Roger burst into laughter and Ralph jumped.

"Do you actually think I like Jack?" he asked between laughter. "Even Jack knows I don't like him."

That wasn't far from the truth, but I never thought Roger would openly admit that he didn't like me, let alone while I was sitting across from him at a small table. On my birthday.

"Then why are you sitting with him?" Ralph asked.

"Because he has no friends," Roger replied. I looked at him accusingly.

"Hey!" I said, slightly offended.

"What?" Roger retorted. "It's true. When's the last time you actually hung out with someone other than me? For a long period of time, I mean?"

I could not answer the question, so I didn't.

"Exactly," Roger said.

"Aren't I your friend?" Ralph asked.