One of my oldest friends dates back from 5th grade. Audree arrived on the first day of classes, but not with all the other kids. The principal knocked on the classroom door at 10:00 and introduced Audree. Recess time came and, self-righteous prig that I was in the 5th grade, I marched up to the new girl and informed her that she had been late to school that morning. “No I wasn’t,” she said. “Yes you were. School starts at 9, but you arrived at 10, so you were late.” “Well, my dad says that you’re only late if you think you’re late,” she said. That was a bit much for my 5th grade brain to process very quickly and I was left tongue tied. This was the start of a long friendship. To this day, Audree can still shut me up with the right question or the unexpected shift of focus.
My mother’s first memory of Audree was opening the back door to find me with a large girl. I said, “This is Audree. She is hungry.” Audree announced that she was writing a book and my mother invited her in for some food. We were quite inseparable.
About a month into 5th grade, we had a falling out. Neither one of us can remember its origins. I do remember telling her that her knit hat was ugly, but I don’t remember if that was the start of the fight or if it was a spiteful blow because we were fighting. I do remember that she told me her grandmother had given her that hat and that to insult the hat was to insult her grandmother and that she was going to beat me up for such an insult. Later, I yelled at her that I wasn’t going to beat her up; I was going to fight her with my brains (yelling from the safety of the other side of the street). This sort of swiping and jibing went on for about a month.
Then one day we arrived at school and Mrs. Moore had arranged all the desks in a large circle rather than rows. She gave each of us a little slip of paper and instructed us to write down the name of the fellow pupil we would most like to invite along on a family vacation. I looked around the room. The only person I wanted to write down was Audree, but I couldn’t because of the Fight. So I wrote down Marie Fitzsimmons. At recess, all the kids asked each other what name they had picked. Audree had written down my name! I was so ashamed and felt very guilty. I had betrayed my best friend. But I didn’t confess. Shortly thereafter, the Fight was just over, for reasons no more apparent than those that started it.
Life around Audree is always heightened and vivid. Since then we’ve lived through countless adventures, conversations, disagreements, dinners, celebrations, tragedies – and, yes, vacations together.
