Late afternoon
I remember running, laughing as we passed by that old man Mr. Frederick and his old golden retriever. Through the small northern wood, across the flamingo pond then the river. We hid in our treehouse, waiting. We knew that we'd outgrown that treehouse, that most likely next year when our growth spurt came, neither of us would fit there anymore, so we watched quietly as the sunset arrived and went.
It was a scorching summer night. In your right hand was your best student certificate. You stood to read it out loud for me.
BEST STUDENT OF 2002
S-A-M-S-O-N B-R-O-W-N
WITH PRIDE AND JOY
We laughed with each other, then lay down on the creaking wooden floor, giddy with life, looking up at the dark ceiling. We were quiet for long minutes, but we had never needed words in between silence in all of our time together so I listened to your breathing, to the sound of insects outside the treehouse, to the sound of tree leaves blown by the wind.
After a while, I asked you, “How come you've never told me to call you Sammy?”
You barked a laugh—a loud one, filled with occasional snorts that I had to laugh along. This is the kind of days I count on, Sam, days in which I could listen to your laughter for hours. The kind of days I hold tightly inside my chest even now.
When your laughter subsided, again we were suspended in a comfortable silence we'd known well. Quietly, you said, “My parents used to call me Sammy.”
“Oh.” I didn't ask what they called you after. Worthless child was playing in loop in my mind.
“Do you want to call me 'Sammy'?”
I thought about it. “No,” I told you, “I like 'Sam' better.”
You sat up from your lounging, peering down at me. And Sam, how bright you had smiled.
YOU ARE READING
Wearing My Smile | ✔
Teen Fiction"I wondered if you'd ever thought that the name your parents had given you felt like sharp knife twisting through your heart in its prayer. I'd never asked you that before, now I'd never get to." Having been together since forever, Roo struggles in...
