As I walked the fifteen blocks home from school I imagined that this was what John Coffey must have felt like walking the green mile to the room where he would soon be painfully and horribly executed. I knew what awaited me and it seemed to turn the blocks into miles. And though the outcome was grim I knew it was my destiny. The fifteen block straight away stretch from Eureka High School is a path I’ve walked twice a day, five days a week for the past four years and today was the first time I had noticed anything different; in fact, the entire walk was new and unnatural, as if I were walking it for the first time ever. Cracks in the sidewalk, trees, house colors, house styles. Everything seemed different and completely new to me. Had by chance woken up in some alternate dimension? Or had I simply been so unobservant for the past four years? Shaking my head I pushed the thought of an alternate dimension out of my mind and chalked these differences up to lack of food and sleep.
Today had been a seemingly perfect spring day; temperatures in the mid nineties, slight breeze, a few clouds here and there, and to top it all off graduation was only weeks away. The school was full to the brim with excitement and commotion. By all accounts I should be overwhelmed with happiness, excitement, and prospects of the future, but I wasn’t. The sun shine brought me no warmth and though I was wearing a long-sleeve flannel shirt and jeans, my brittle bones felt as if they were made of ice. The breeze felt like a piercing thirty mile an hour wind that threatened to sweep me off my feet and shatter my bones. Looking up at the sky, instead of seeing fluffy white clouds in the shapes of other objects, I saw a blanket of darkness rolling in; a storm that had been creeping over the horizon for the greater part of the past four years.
Ignoring the impending storm that now seemed to be racing towards me, I thought back on all the memories I had of Jonah, of how terribly I was going to miss him, and how I’m sure he won’t miss me in the way that I’ve missed him all these years, regardless of the fact that we eventually became very close friends. One of the fondest memories I have of him is the day we first met…
The summer between eighth grade and freshmen year of high school was when mom’s office transferred her to a new office in this po-dunk little town. After all the boxes had been unloaded from the truck I took a walk to explore the surrounding neighborhood and that’s when I ran into him. His name is Jonah, and we literally ran into one another. That’s the day the four year storm began. He was racing down the sidewalk on a bike, head turned back yelling to one of his friends. I was distracted with a bird flying by and I walked into him riding into me and we both fell to the ground. As he lifted himself up off the ground he started chuckling, extended a hand to help me up, and smiled at me with a stunning radiance that put the sun to shame.
“I am so sorry. Are you okay?” he said as I got to my feet.
“Uh…y-yeah, I-I’m fine.” I stuttered, still by his smile and kindness.
“That’s good. Name‘s Jonah. What’s yours?”
“I…uh…what?”
“Your name, what is it?” he asked again, chuckling to himself.
“Oh, right. My name is Kyle. I just moved in around the corner.”
“Neat! I live just over there” and he pointed to the yard where his friends were still laughing about our incident. “Well, I’ve got to go. Hope to see you around Kyle!”
“Uh..yeah, same here” I muttered as he raced off back towards the house on his bike.
Soon after meeting Jonah I learned that he was the poster child for “normal” teenage boys across the world. He was an all-star athlete and would eventually become the head of the high school baseball team, above average academic grades, his father; the captain of the police force, friendly and personable to everyone, and dating the head of the cheerleading squad. Despite having a girlfriend, I felt something for him I had never felt before. Something that I can only imagine what true love must feel like. Sighing at the fact of how hopeless and stupid it all was now, the clouds grew a shade darker or three and I leaned over to pet Mrs. Johansson’s Pomeranian, Spud, who had been whimpering for attention as I was lost in the memories that would soon be lost. Walking away, my mind soon began to wander again.
Just weeks into the summer of that year I got a job at a local record store called The Works to help mom out with some of the bills, though she would never ask for it. The job itself I loved, and would’ve done the work for free just to be around the constant music and smell of vinyl and old cardboard sleeves with art work half worn away. Music was the one thing that I was passionate enough about to do for the rest of my life and make a living from somehow being involved; loved everything from the range of the vocals to the power of the lyrics to the power of the instrumentals, and more than all of that, nothing could top the raw force and energy of seeing a live show. It was truly like a drug to me; an addiction that I simply could not get enough of. The record store was where the second encounter Jonah and I had, also where we really became friends. You see, Jonah and I share the same passion; music.
That day he came into to the store alone, it was the first time I had ever seen him there but I knew it wasn’t his first venture to the store because he knew exactly what he was looking for and where to find it. I did my best to contain how glad I was that we would get another chance to talk, and just kept on taking inventory and cataloging a new shipment of albums we had just received. He walked to the back corner, flipped through a few albums and picked on up. As soon as I saw what he had picked up my heart skipped a beat. At that moment I knew we could really be friends and that there was more to this picture perfect, “all-American” boy than what was to be seen on the surface. The Smiths ‘Meat Is Murder’ was my introduction to music and has always been one of my favorite albums.
The only thing I have left of my father is his vast collection of vinyl records and plaid flannel shirts. Losing dad months before the move had been a devastating blow for both mom and I. He was everything to us; our foundation, our hero, our best friend. Everything that is positive and right in my life I learned from him but now I had no one to turn to in times of need and despair. Alone and lost in a new town all I had was music to comfort my soul and calm my nerves. The Smiths had been dad’s favorite band and ‘Meat Is Murder’ was the start of my record collection, given to me on my thirteenth birthday by my father.
As Jonah had picked out the album I noticed a bit of my father in him, or what similarities I wanted to see anyway. The distinct jaw line, one sided smile, and the way he was always tapping little drum beats with his fingers. My heart simultaneously leapt with joy and sunk to the pit of my stomach and I couldn’t resist it any longer, I had to talk to him again. Walking up beside him, I started looking through some albums.
“That’s a great album, it was my first vinyl, I have had to buy several copies of it because I listen to it so often.” I said offhandedly, barely glancing away from the albums.
“Yeah, it really is.” He said looking over at me. It took him a moment to recognize me but then it dawned on him. “Hey! Aren’t you that kid I ran into a couple months ago…umm…Kyle, right?”
‘Oh. My. God. He remembers my name!’ I smiled and thought to myself, almost shouting it out loud. “Yeah, and if I’m not mistaken yours is…Jonah, right?” I said, pretending to have to try and remember his name and trying to conceal my excitement.
“I’m sorry about the whole ‘hit and run’ kind of thing by the way, and sorry about my friends laughing. They’re all really big dorks, they gave me a hard time about it for weeks. Ha-ha”
“Oh, it’s alright. It doesn’t bother me at all, I had almost completely forgotten about that day.” I lied, still smiling at the fact that he at least remembered my name.
“So what brings to into The Works?” He asked, still looking at the album; turning it from front to back, clearly eager to take it home and listen to it.
“Oh, actually, I work here.”
“Really? That’s awesome dude.”
“Yeah, I was pretty excited when I got the job, I love it here, I basically get to spend all of my down time searching for and listening to new and different things.”
“Hey, I’ve got to run, my dad is in the car and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting. So would you mind checking me out for this and I’ll catch up with you later?” Jonah said with a sudden sense of urgency in his voice, as if he had just remembered that he left something in the oven and I was going to catch fire if he didn’t get home to it soon.
“Yeah man, not a problem. I should probably get back to work anyway.” I said despite the fact that my work was pretty much done.
Curiosity washed over me as to why he was so suddenly nervous and wanted to leave, but I shrugged it off and checked him out for the record. As he put his hand on the door knob he turned and looked at me with desperation in his eyes and said “Hey, when you get off of work would you like to come over and hang out and listen to this with me?”
“Yeah, I would really like that.” I said and couldn’t help but to let my smile grow even more. “I get out at six, should I just come over right after work?”
