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A Lamented Friend

Bill Tope


After surviving for all my adult life without
Dabbling in the computer culture, I relented
And allowed the Internet to gush forward
And into my communications network, such
As it is. (The Smith Corona couldn’t last
Forever, after all.) As I sat down with my newly
Empowered PC, I imagined with relish all the
Fun I’d have researching old friends and family
Members with whom I’d lost touch over the
Years. But as they say, sometimes you get
more than you’d bargained for.

One of these old comrades, my BFF from grade
School, had been on my mind lately, and in my
Dreams, for no apparent reason. As young kids,
We had been fast friends, indulging in sleepovers,
Making snow forts in the winter, all that sort of
Thing.

Though he was doubtless not the only one, my
Friend was the only child I knew who suffered at the
Hands of an abusive father. Whenever things did
Not go his way, the father would punch, throttle, or
Kick my friend; the evidence was there in gym class,
Where contusions would wreathe his limbs and torso.

The father was always sly enough to abuse his son in
Locations that “wouldn’t show.” In subsequent, more
Enlightened years, I have felt shame that I didn’t do
more to protect him and stop the abuse. But in the 60’s
who knew about Children and Family Services?
Brutalizing a chilld was considered “family business.”

He had moved away in middle school and
Returned only once, in order to teach me to
Drive, a gracious gesture that has remained with me
Always. I had not seen him in fully fifty years,
Though I sometimes wondered what had become
Of him. I found out on the internet in the form of
His obituary.

He had died nearly two years before, but what
Struck me even harder than his mere death was
How poorly he had aged. Where in school he had
Been handsome, proud, smart, had even played
On the football team in high school, he was now
A bloated, bent, ghost of the person he’d been.
He had a wild gray beard and regarded the camera
With a toothless grin and a truly mad stare.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so surprised. After all,
I’m hardly the man I was fifty years ago. It happens to
All of us, except for Cher and Heather Locklear, maybe,
But there was such an insanity about my friend’s
Appearance that it continues to haunt me even now.
But the most horrible, disspiriting, egregious thing
About his deterioration was that his face had
Assumed an appearance almost identical to that of
His brutally violent and abusive father. I had hoped for
So much better for my friend, that at least he not be
Reminded every day when he shaved, of the darkest
Figure of his dystopian childhood.

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