Friendship

Goodbye, Mr. Semach

The air smelled of sea salt and the day was as bright as the sun I hopped into my friend Teddy Ertel’s white Honda Pilot SUV on July 26, 2016. My friends Jonny, Teddy, and Mir were there too. We were going to Teddy’s beach club, Catalina, which was located in Atlantic Beach. We all squished into the back seats, fighting for room. As I banged into Teddy, I heard, “Ow, that hurt.” The only thing that was more uncomfortable than my tight swim trunks was realizing that Jonny Semach, one of my best friends, would be moving over 5,000 miles away, back to his home country of Israel, and this was the last day I would be seeing him. He would be on a flight to Western Israel on July 28 and I wasn’t going see him again before he left. Usually the beach is the one peaceful spot that can soothe my problems and stress. However, on this day it felt dreary and dismal. I knew it was going to be an agonizing day but also knew that spending it with three of my best friends would make it a little more bearable. I’d known Jonny for a long time. I met him during the first grade at PS 158 and we became instant friends. As soon as I saw him, standing in the corner with his eyes opened wide, I realized that he looked petrified to be joining a new school. Right then I made the decision to introduce myself. I scooted over to him and said, “Hi, I’m Tyler. Do you want to be my friend?” He answered me in a shaky voice and said, “Yes, my name is Jonathan.” I don’t know why, but from that moment on I started calling him Jonny and it stuck. We bonded while playing with the trains during choice time and that bond grew stronger through the years. In addition, I also knew Mir for a long time, even longer than Jonny. Teddy and I became close friends in fifth grade. The car ride to Catalina Beach Club was both a depressing and bittersweet experience, because, even though we all knew Jonny would be leaving, we also knew that we were lucky to be able to create one last memory with him at a place we all enjoyed, the beach. Once we got through the arched, tremendous entrance and signed into the beach club, we sprinted toward the ocean. My all-time favorite place to be is the beach. The sound of the waves was extremely peaceful, so I started to relax a little. In addition, the waves seemed as huge as a gigantic waterfall, just like the first time I went there with Jonny the year before. That time it was only he and I. There was a carnival at the beach that day which included a dunk tank and an extremely tall water slide that towered over us. Jonny and I took turns in the dunk tank and laughed like hyenas when we hit the target, sending each of us into the dirty, sandy water. We raced down the water slide again and again, and whoever won got bragging rights to say who was the fastest. Since we were such good friends, it never mattered to either of us who won. The flow of our conversation was always calm and easy. Getting back to my last hours with Jonny, the air smelled of sea salt and the day was as bright as the sun. The ocean was clear, not a piece of seaweed to be seen. As we approached the water, Jonny asked in a depressed, glum voice, “Is today the last day I’m going to see you?” I responded by saying, “No… it won’t be, so don’t think about it,” but in reality I really didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. I was reassuring both myself and him.It was like I was sugarcoating the truth for us, because I couldn’t bear the thought that this could actually be true. Then we all raced into the ocean, charging through the water like military soldiers charging into battle. Minutes later, we stopped and looked up and saw that there was a gigantic, eight-foot wave standing over us, making us look like we were ants. All of us said in unison, “Uh oh, we better brace ourselves before it knocks us under the water.” That gave me a funny sensation, because I felt like Jonny leaving was knocking the wind out of me, but I laughed along with the other guys, while I felt like crying inside. Crash! Bang! We continued to get knocked around, pulled under the water, and pushed onto the beach, which took my mind off everything temporarily. We were all chuckling hysterically as we swam back out for the next huge wave to overtake us. I was glad that we had this amazing time to add another farewell for Jonny to remember us by. After about an hour we left the ocean to have lunch with Teddy’s parents and his siblings. We all argued about who would sit next to Jonny. In the end I plopped onto the chair next to Jonny on one side and Mir sat on the other. We had Jonny’s favorite food for lunch, which is pizza and then cookies for dessert. Lunch was calm and silent, which was very strange for us. In the past, we were never silent, therefore I realized everyone was just as depressed as I was. Eventually, we faced the elephant in the room and talked about how each of us was going to miss Jonny. After lunch we headed back to the ocean. We continued to get knocked over by the waves. Boom! A gigantic wave overtook me and knocked me back to the shore. I was hoping I would be comforted by the sounds of the ocean, but unfortunately, that didn’t happen because deep inside I knew I would miss Jonny’s friendship

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A tiny ripple spread from the center of the pond as a small stone struck the surface. The delicate lily pads drifted and then settled as the water calmed. A dark shape swam beneath the water, then emerged, the spotted toad settling serenely on top of a dark green leaf floating like a boat. It collapsed under the toad’s weight, reminding Firoz of how fragile life could be. The air hummed all around the small boy sitting on the rocky shore, insects continually moving and eating all around the beautiful pond. Flowers waved in the wind, their bulbous heads drooping down to the path in the wind. Leaves fell from the trees, some landing atop the pond, stirring the water, then settling it, looking like the leaf had always been there. Out of the thick swath of trees that surrounded the pond, a small, trembling head poked itself out. The baby deer looked around once, then emerged on its thin legs. Firoz watched, wondering if it was alone like he was. It wasn’t. Soon after, a larger deer came from behind and nuzzled its spotted coat, leading it away from the pond, and away from Firoz. Firoz felt a small twinge of disappointment. Being alone all of the time wasn’t the most fun thing in the entire world. All he wanted was a family, and when he finally got one, he wanted a friend. But nobody wanted to be friends with a small boy from India. Nobody at all. So Firoz sat by the pond, all alone. Firoz watched, wondering if it was alone like he was He had been sitting there, it seemed, ever since his family had died. A breeze blew hard through the thick trees, whistling like a badly played flute. It ruffled Firoz’s navy-blue shorts and white shirt, billowing it out like a kite. He wrapped his arms around his body, rocking in the cold. India had never been cold, and Minnesota was close to freezing. One more reason it wasn’t at all like his real home. He should be in school, the fancy private school that his foster parents had paid so much for. Alton Prep was the most miserable part of Firoz’s life. Almost all of the kids there were pampered and viewed Firoz as someone not to be associated with. He wished he could go to a public school. Maybe he could fit in there. Maybe at a regular school, where nobody was spoiled, he wouldn’t be bullied and hung upside down until his face turned gray. Maybe at a regular school, somebody would like him and not wonder why he had a patch over one eye, where a shard of glass had pierced deep, deep into it. His eye wasn’t the only thing that had broken since the death of his family. His heart had too. His heart had broken from the teasing and the moving, the memories of his lost family and India. And so Firoz sat by the pond, as he had every day since he had wandered into the forest, angry and tired of being teased. He thought of his troubles, so many there were that when a girl emerged from the swath of trees, just as the baby deer had done, Firoz didn’t look up. He didn’t look up until she sat right beside him and spoke. “I guess you weren’t prepared for the weather today, huh?” Firoz’s soulful brown eye glanced up from the pebbly shore of the pond. Sitting next to him there was a blond-haired girl. Her wavy blond hair was waving in the wind, and she stared intently at him. “You don’t have a jacket on, you know, and it’s about thirty degrees out,” she said, then looked down at her own shirt. “But I’m not wearing one either, to be fair.” He blinked and moved slightly away from her. He recognized the logo she wore on her shirt. It was the same one he wore on his uniform. The blond-haired girl was from Alton Prep, the same private school he went to. She was probably one of the people who cheered and laughed while he was thrust down a toilet or garbage can. The girl tilted her head and smiled brilliantly. “Hey, no need to move away,” she called, looking at Firoz with a glimmer in her eyes. She smiled again. Firoz blinked once. It seemed like ages since anybody had talked to him, and manners seemed to have drifted out of him like a spirit soaring to the clouds. She reached out a hand, and her elbow sank into the muddy pebbles lining the pond’s banks. “Sorry if I startled you. I’m Viv.” Viv looked into Firoz’s wide-spread eye. “And before you ask, it’s not short for Vivian.” She grinned. “It’s short for Vivace.” “Vivace?” Firoz asked, his voice small and tentative. “Really?” Viv shrugged. “I’m told that my mum loved music.” Firoz’s mother had loved music too. She had named her only daughter Vina. “My sister’s name was Vina.” Viv looked at him, and Firoz searched his head for the English word. The wind howled through the trees once more, and he remembered. “My sister’s name was flute.” “Vina,” Viv closed her eyes and tilted her pale face to the light gray sky, “that’s beautiful.” “She died,” said Firoz. His one remaining eye blinked, trying to hold back tears. Viv moved closer to Firoz. “My mother died too.” The two children stayed silent for several long seconds before Firoz extended his hand tentatively. “Firoz,” he said. Viv clasped it, and the two shook hands. It may have been decided without words, but they both knew. They knew that they would be friends. *          *          * It wasn’t long before winter settled its icy hold on the forest. Ice had spread across the once always-moving pond, icy blue tendrils reaching across like a blue spiderweb over the surface. The rocks by the bank were frozen into the dirt, and the grass

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A tiny ripple spread from the center of the pond as a small stone struck the surface. The delicate lily pads drifted and then settled as the water calmed. A dark shape swam beneath the water, then emerged, the spotted toad settling serenely on top of a dark green leaf floating like a boat. It collapsed under the toad’s weight, reminding Firoz of how fragile life could be. The air hummed all around the small boy sitting on the rocky shore, insects continually moving and eating all around the beautiful pond. Flowers waved in the wind, their bulbous heads drooping down to the path in the wind. Leaves fell from the trees, some landing atop the pond, stirring the water, then settling it, looking like the leaf had always been there. Out of the thick swath of trees that surrounded the pond, a small, trembling head poked itself out. The baby deer looked around once, then emerged on its thin legs. Firoz watched, wondering if it was alone like he was. It wasn’t. Soon after, a larger deer came from behind and nuzzled its spotted coat, leading it away from the pond, and away from Firoz. Firoz felt a small twinge of disappointment. Being alone all of the time wasn’t the most fun thing in the entire world. All he wanted was a family, and when he finally got one, he wanted a friend. But nobody wanted to be friends with a small boy from India. Nobody at all. So Firoz sat by the pond, all alone. Firoz watched, wondering if it was alone like he was He had been sitting there, it seemed, ever since his family had died. A breeze blew hard through the thick trees, whistling like a badly played flute. It ruffled Firoz’s navy-blue shorts and white shirt, billowing it out like a kite. He wrapped his arms around his body, rocking in the cold. India had never been cold, and Minnesota was close to freezing. One more reason it wasn’t at all like his real home. He should be in school, the fancy private school that his foster parents had paid so much for. Alton Prep was the most miserable part of Firoz’s life. Almost all of the kids there were pampered and viewed Firoz as someone not to be associated with. He wished he could go to a public school. Maybe he could fit in there. Maybe at a regular school, where nobody was spoiled, he wouldn’t be bullied and hung upside down until his face turned gray. Maybe at a regular school, somebody would like him and not wonder why he had a patch over one eye, where a shard of glass had pierced deep, deep into it. His eye wasn’t the only thing that had broken since the death of his family. His heart had too. His heart had broken from the teasing and the moving, the memories of his lost family and India. And so Firoz sat by the pond, as he had every day since he had wandered into the forest, angry and tired of being teased. He thought of his troubles, so many there were that when a girl emerged from the swath of trees, just as the baby deer had done, Firoz didn’t look up. He didn’t look up until she sat right beside him and spoke. “I guess you weren’t prepared for the weather today, huh?” Firoz’s soulful brown eye glanced up from the pebbly shore of the pond. Sitting next to him there was a blond-haired girl. Her wavy blond hair was waving in the wind, and she stared intently at him. “You don’t have a jacket on, you know, and it’s about thirty degrees out,” she said, then looked down at her own shirt. “But I’m not wearing one either, to be fair.” He blinked and moved slightly away from her. He recognized the logo she wore on her shirt. It was the same one he wore on his uniform. The blond-haired girl was from Alton Prep, the same private school he went to. She was probably one of the people who cheered and laughed while he was thrust down a toilet or garbage can. The girl tilted her head and smiled brilliantly. “Hey, no need to move away,” she called, looking at Firoz with a glimmer in her eyes. She smiled again. Firoz blinked once. It seemed like ages since anybody had talked to him, and manners seemed to have drifted out of him like a spirit soaring to the clouds. She reached out a hand, and her elbow sank into the muddy pebbles lining the pond’s banks. “Sorry if I startled you. I’m Viv.” Viv looked into Firoz’s wide-spread eye. “And before you ask, it’s not short for Vivian.” She grinned. “It’s short for Vivace.” “Vivace?” Firoz asked, his voice small and tentative. “Really?” Viv shrugged. “I’m told that my mum loved music.” Firoz’s mother had loved music too. She had named her only daughter Vina. “My sister’s name was Vina.” Viv looked at him, and Firoz searched his head for the English word. The wind howled through the trees once more, and he remembered. “My sister’s name was flute.” “Vina,” Viv closed her eyes and tilted her pale face to the light gray sky, “that’s beautiful.” “She died,” said Firoz. His one remaining eye blinked, trying to hold back tears. Viv moved closer to Firoz. “My mother died too.” The two children stayed silent for several long seconds before Firoz extended his hand tentatively. “Firoz,” he said. Viv clasped it, and the two shook hands. It may have been decided without words, but they both knew. They knew that they would be friends. *          *          * It wasn’t long before winter settled its icy hold on the forest. Ice had spread across the once always-moving pond, icy blue tendrils reaching across like a blue spiderweb over the surface. The rocks by the bank were frozen into the dirt, and the grass