Not quite Forever

He was three when he met his best friend.

His mother held his hand as they walked down the path that was only partly covered in the fallen leaves. He admired the amber, red, and orange colours that decorated his surrounding, a feeling of a jovial peace heavy in the air. He had daydreamed about this moment, the moment where he could let go of his mothers grasp and run free through the piles of leaves, where he could soar through the sky with his mother behind him and laugh along with the others with him.

The moment he turned away from his mother’s kind smile, he found himself embroiled in a game of tag. He laughed as he was chased, squealed as he run away from the person who could curse him with the ‘tag’, and ducked under the play equipment so inconveniently placed for their game.
He didn’t know the names of these children. He didn’t need to.

But after running for what felt like hours, he began to feel a familiar uncomfortable pinch in his side. And so, he decided to duck underneath the slide and seek shelter under it until he regained his stamina.

So caught up in the excitement, he hadn’t yet noticed the other child who sat opposite him.

Then again, he hadn’t spotted him either, as his head was rested on his knees which were forcefully held up by his grip. Silent tears rolled down his chubby face, red not with excitement or exhaustion, but devastation. His small body shook ever so slightly as he pulled his body in tighter, appearing to shrink against the shadows.

It was only when a louder sob broke through the silence, did the other boy notice him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not too bothered by the weirdness of the situation, but instantly concerned for the boy he saw before him.
The boy nodded his head quickly, his long hair enough to cover his face from the boy.

When it was clear he wasn’t going to vocalise, the boy shuffled closer to him, extending his hand in greeting – just as his mother had told him.
“I’m Simon,” the young boy said, “What’s your name?”

“Ben,”

Simon was just able to make out what Ben had said but was not put off by the lack of enthusiasm. He did however, wonder why he was wasn’t invited to play like he was. So, the only possible thing left to say, was:

“Hi Ben, would you like to play with us?”

Once again, Ben shook his head, burring his face impossibly further into his knees.

“That’s okay, would you like to play with me instead?”

Ben looked up, studying Simon’s face for the tell-tale tale sign of a joke, or a mocking glisten in his eye, or even sarcasm. When he found none, he was more surprised than relieved. Even as a young boy, he had been familiar with the unwelcoming tones, the side glances, and the whispering. He just didn’t know if it was worse from the other kids or the parents.

But he shook his head again, returning his head back on top of his knees.

“We can stay in here if you’d like. Just us. We can play?”

“Okay,”

“Alright! Wait, do you like football?”


The two boys spend hours playing alone in the shelter of the slide, long enough for Simon to realise:
“What happened to your arm?”

Ben stilled.

“Nothing.”
“But it’s not there?”
Simon moved closer to pick up the sleave that hung loosely at Ben’s side, waving it around. Yep, definitely no arm.  

“I was born like this; mum says that’s nothing to be ashamed of. She said its unique.”
Simon nodded.
“Its really cool. Hey, you could be like a superhero!”

Simon held the sleave up and hummed a tune as he pretended, they were both flying. Ben giggled.
“Like superman!”
Too soon, there mothers found them. But that wasn’t the last time they met.

Every day after school, Ben would wait by the school gates with his mum until Simon and his mother joined them, and together, they would walk to the park.
Ben found himself looking forward to those trips more than ever. School was much better when he had someone by his side to defend him when an older kid ‘accidently’ tipped his lunch tray, or if someone in his class laughed at the limp sleave by his side.
He found himself smiling more, laughing more, and overall, so much happier.
During their breaks, they would fight the bad guys, side by side, whether they were playground bullies, or crazy alien monsters! There was nothing the two of them couldn’t fight off together.

At least, that’s what they thought.




On their first day of secondary school, Ben wasn’t there.

Simon didn’t go to the park that evening.

Instead, he went straight to Ben’s house. The bus journey took longer than the expected, and the roads all seemed to look the same. There was doubt in his heart, but he needed to speak to Ben.

When he eventually found the door number, he knocked and waited patiently. A familiar face greeted him when the door opened.

Ben’s mother looked older than he had remembered. More tired. Worn. But there was still a warm glint in her eye, so similar to Ben’s.

“Oh, hello Simon, Ben’s not feeling too well…”

“Please let him in mum!” Simon heard Ben’s voice from further in the house. It didn’t sound the same.

But Bens mother stepped aside, and welcomed him in, showing him around their house to the back room where Ben was laying down quite awkwardly on the sofa.
They spent the evening together, and Simon knew – although no one came out and said it – that something was seriously wrong. He had known before he arrived at the house, before he saw the way his mother glanced at him, and the way Ben winced every time he moved.

He didn’t think he was supposed to overhear bens mother in the kitchen, talking to the doctor over the phone, crying. So he didn’t mention it to Ben.

Eventually his own phone rang. His mother. He said goodbye to ben and his mother, wishing him well soon, and left, silently praying that Ben would be back soon.

He didn’t see him in school the next day. Or the day after. Or the week after.

IT had been two months since Ben and Simon had fought off the monsters together in the playground, but Simon went to Ben’s house everyday after school.  He made the excuses of having to give him the homework, but he knew, as did everyone else, that wasn’t the whole truth.

Nevertheless, Ben was happiest in the few hours Simon visited each day.

Even when they sat in silence, dwelling on the questions that were never going to be asked.

“I’m going back to hospital tomorrow.” Ben declared, breaking the silence.

“Is everything okay?”

“Simon,” Ben whispered.

Simon looked up from the game he was playing on his phone, and looked over his shoulder at his best friend, who held on to the tears that had congregated in the corners of his eyes.

“I’m scared.”




When Simon went to his house the next day, there was no answer. He knocked on the door. He knocked harder. He punched, he kicked, he shouted until the neighbour screamed down to him to shut up from the window.  

Defeated, he sat on their front step until his mother called.

 
One day, after what felt like an endless pile of work and never-ending school days, he got a phone call from Ben.

When his mother handed him the phone, he didn’t know what it meant. He just noticed the pain in her eyes that didn’t quite meet his.

“Simon,” Ben’s voice was weak and rough. He didn’t sound well, but Simon selfishly felt anger boil in his stomach. Why hadn’t he called? Why had he let him worry? Why did he leave him on his own?

“Simon I’ve just had an operation”

The resentment faded in a second. He gasped.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m…”

Silence.

“Simon, I want you to visit me.”

“Where?”

“At the hospital, I can’t come home.”

“Okay. Of course, I’ll come. “

When Simon stepped into the hospital the reality hit him just as hard as the stench of bleach did. He thought he was too old to hold his mother’s hand, but when she wrapped her fingers over his protectively, he didn’t protest. She guided him through the crowds of grey people in gowns, some attached to drips, some in wheelchairs, most alone.

After speaking to a nurse, they were directed in the direction of Bens room.

He stopped outside the door.

“I can’t do it.”

“Simon,” his mother bent down and took his hands in hers. “Ben is in there, and he wanted you here. He misses you, and I know you miss him too.”

“I don’t want to see him anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want it to be the last time.”




When he finally pushed open the door, he was met with a scene he would rather forget.

There he was. His best friend, attached to a drip, with a grey face and dark eyes. He looked fragile. He looked sick. This wasn’t Ben, this wasn’t the same person who could fight the monster with him. IT wasn’t the same person who he played with every day with since the day they met. This wasn’t the kid who would defend himself with a single arm and still come away victorious.

“We’ll leave you boys too it,” Ben’s father said. Simon tried to wipe the memory of the tears in his eyes as he took his wife’s hand that shook with a slight tremor and followed his mother out of the door.

He didn’t dwell on it at the time. Instead, he rushed to Bens side, forgetting about his previous worries.

“Ben,” he whispered.

“Simon,” Ben replied in a hoarse voice, almost as though he hadn’t spoken for months. He smiled, although it looked as though the expression pained him to do so and squeezed Simon’s hand ever so slightly. It was like – Simon thought- he was trying to remind himself he was still alive.

Simon felt the tears fall.

“It’s okay Simon, Ill be back at school soon.”

If only Simon could believe it, he would have clung to those words of promise like a lifeline. He knew it wasn’t true. Yet he held on anyway.

He knew this was his last chance.

“Ben,”

“Simon,”

He could see his emotions mirrored in bens eyes; he could feel the squeeze of approval on his hand. He knew. They both knew.

Simon leant forward, careful not to catch the tubes or wires coming from Ben’s form and connected their lips. It was a bittersweet moment. One he wished he could forget. One he hoped he would always remember.

“I love you,”

“I love you”

He clung to his friend, because he feared that if he let go, he would disintegrate in front of him.

But eventually Simon had to let go, his mother pulled him from Bens arms and wrapped him in her own. She couldn’t shield him from this. He knew it was too late.

It wasn’t going to be okay.


It was late one night – technically early morning – when Simon stared up at the ceiling, trying to remember every second, but trying to forget the pain. He nearly didn’t hear the phone ring.

He listened as his mother ran to the phone, and he listened to the silence that followed.

“I’m so sorry,”

He heard her put the phone down. He didn’t bother to try and pretend he was asleep.

He saw the light fill the room as she opened his door.

Simon, I’m so sorry,” she struggled through the words. “Ben…”

Ben was gone.

He was alone

His heart was broken

Shattered




When he eventually went back to school, no one knew what to say to him. He didn’t mind though, he had weeks of people telling him how sorry they were, how nice Ben was, how he would be missed. He listened to the same phrases, same reciting of poems and biblical references. He was just tired.

He didn’t meet anyone’s eye.

For the first time for what felt like forever, he went to the park on his own. He was there when his parents scattered his ashes by the play area. He hoped what they said was true, he hoped he would feel closer to him here, he hoped Ben could hear him.

“You promised.” He spat at the ground.

“You said you’d get better.”

The park was deserted. The laughter of the children that went home was carried blissfully in the air around him, taunting him.

“You promised!”

His chest heaved as he struggled to hold everything in. The pain. The memories. The hurt. The loss. The fear. The anger.

The park bought it all to the surface; he didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He had no other friends. He had no where else to be. No one could understand. No one knew how much ben meant to him.  How could they know?

He had lost his best friend and his first love in one night.

He was broken.



He was so caught up in everything that he didn’t notice the other person who sat down besides him.

“Hey, are you alright there buddy?”

That’s all it took for him to collapse. The other boy caught him and held him as he cried into his shoulder. Simon clung to human he had never met like his life depended on it. But he never pushed him away. He held him tightly and stroked his hair.

 The sun had long settled before Simon gained the strength to pull away.

The other boy delved through his pockets and held out a tissue for Simon.

“Thank you.”

“That’s alright, I only done what any reasonable person would have done. Are you okay?”

Simon wiped his nose with the tissue and looked warily at the boy.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” But he stretched his hand out towards him. “But I’m Tobey, Tobey Barton.”