The Choir He Wanted, The LIfe He Had

Monday, May 26, 1936

I walked into the dining hall feeling surprisingly happy for a school day, not to mention a Monday. I looked around until I found Roger, then skipped over to him.

"Hello!" I said happily, sitting down across from him and setting my lunch on the table. He looked up from whatever it was he was eating and smiled.

"You seem happy today," he said. Then he added, "I mean, considering it's a Monday and you're at school."

"Yeah," I said. "Are you?"

"I'm never happy," Roger said, looking back down at his food.

"That's not true," I said. When he didn't say anything I added, "You have food today."

Roger nodded but said nothing. He hadn't had anything for lunch at all the week before. When I asked him why, he said he didn't have a lot of food, and the little food he did have he was saving for his brother, and for breakfast in the morning. Looking at what he was eating now, which didn't look appetizing, I wondered how he could eat something like that for breakfast.

"Where did you get that?" I asked, motioning towards the food he was eating, a can of something I assumed was green beans but couldn't be sure.

"I bought it," he said. "I got a bit of money from a bet I made with this one kid last week."

He took another bite, and I wondered how he didn't gag. I would've.

"That doesn't look very good," I said.

"It isn't," Roger replied.

"Then why are you eating it?" I asked.

"Because," Roger said, "It's food."

"It's not very good food."

"When you live like I do, you learn that the way food tastes doesn't matter. As long as you can eat it, it's good."

Neither of us said anything. I watched Roger eat, then began eating myself. I had what I always brought, a sandwich, which I usually didn't like, but today was grateful that I had. At least it was good.

Roger finished his lunch before I did. He put the garbage into his lunch bag, then put that into his school bag. He watched me eat the rest of my lunch, but he didn't say anything. When I finished, I got up to throw it away. I was about to walk away from the table when I heard Roger say,

"Hey!"

I turned around and looked at him. He stood up from the table as well and picked up his school bag.

"What?" I said.

"Don't worry about me," he said. "I'm doing just fine on my own."

"You barely have any food," I said, "And you don't have any money."

"Money isn't everything," Roger said.

"It is if it keeps you alive," I retorted.

"Don't worry," Roger said. "I'll be fine."

"Just don't starve yourself," I said. "And definitely don't starve your brother."

Roger jumped over the table and grabbed my arm. He pulled me down and held my arm down as he got closer and whispered,

"My brother's health always comes before mine. Don't you ever forget that."

He let go of my arm and I rubbed it as I watched him walk away. When he disappeared around the corner, I threw my lunch away and left the dining hall. I walked slowly back to class, the conversation running through my mind over and over again. By the time I got back to class, I had made a decision.

I would do everything I could to help my friend, even if it meant giving up something of my own.