"Honk"

"Pat's out front. Don't be late for school!"

My Mom called out to me as I grabbed my bag and rushed out the door.

Pat was my neighbor from around the block.

We walked to middle school together. Now we were in high school and he was driving a car.

He stayed with me for a long time. When I was in fifth grade and had a bloody nose from a fight, he walked me home. Every day during recess we hung out together and talked nonsense about how we were going to take over the world. After school we would hang out at his house and listen to Led Zeppelin albums or listen to his brother play riffs on his guitar.

We were best friends for a while. Even the birds knew this.

Every day we passed by a high hedge together to cut a corner to get to school. We went past the same house and the same hedge everyday. One day the black birds decided to surprise us. A group of them hide behind the bushes waiting for us to come late to school. As we were about to pass the corner the black birds jumped out all together and crowed and then started laughing when they saw that the scared the pants off of us.

Pat was the one who usually got us in trouble in gym class. He refused to wear anything but moccasins to school. The teacher would make him and I do laps while the other kids played baseball. The teacher thought Pat was a drug dealer, but Pat was just a happy kid and smiled a lot. He would have Pat empty out his pockets and the content of his locker, but he never once found anything incriminating.

Pat was just happy.

That gym teacher couldn't stand anyone being happy and different. I would often take punishments with Pat. This was partly because we were friends, but mostly because I didn't sign up for football my second year. The gym teacher was our coach and somehow was offended by me not signing up for a second year.

After school Pat and I would go to a friends house who lived next to the school. He had a lot of instruments and had padded his entire basement with insulation so we played loud. His parents were older so they basically let him and his friends do whatever they wanted to do. Usually when it was just Pat and I and another friend we were very well behaved and they loved to have us over in the afternoon.

At that time Pat got the part for guitar for the school jazz band and I was singing in the glee club. They were silly times and we would often go to old folks centers or elementary schools to perform together. We talked about how we would be famous and make our own records. Then suddenly Pat was gone.

I never saw him face to face since then.

During the second year of high school, his parents retired and he moved with them down south. At that time there was no internet and although I had his phone number I never called him. It seemed like he was a million miles away.

Last year Pat found me on Facebook. He is married and has a teenage daughter. He never became a famous musician although he does seem to be a pretty good guy still. He moved back to Chicago some years ago and the next time we are there I might call him and tell him I'm coming.

This is an original story by @mineopoly. All pictures here are my own. This story is in response to the inkwell community creative nonfiction prompt 34 .