Why Do Things Happen The Way They Do? OR Toto, People Come And Go So Quickly Here

I remember the first time I saw him like it was yesterday. There are many things I can't recall but I do remember when he entered the doorway of my class. He looked kind of rough, shirt halfway tucked in and and hair cut that looked like someone other than a barber had done it. (Eight Ball Moment: To be honest, all guys had that butch cut or a burr cut. I had a burr thanks to my Dad and the Sears & Roebuck Family Hair Kit....as did my four brothers. My one and only sister somehow missed out on that action. It would be Saturday night in the summer in Midland Texas, and there we all were, lined up for the "cut". This was of course so we could look "presentable" for church the next day. Dad would get a little angry because he had previously sent down the law that it was impossible to cut wet hair and so we all needed to have dry heads come haircut time. We hated haircut time, so we made sure we sweated it up outside so he couldn't cut our hair. After awhile he gave up and cut it anyway. Thus the UGLY pictures of me and one would surmise that I had stepped into a fan blade. For a price, these pictures could make it to FaceBook)...He sat down in the empty desk across from me and after the principal had finished talking with her, the teacher announced that the new student's name was Doug Roberts. It wasn't long before Doug and I struck up a friendship, simply because of the proximity of our desk. Besides he was a friendly guy, AND he had a sense of humor. Well, he would laugh at my jokes, so he definantly showed good taste. During recess he was pretty good at soccer and making the girls laugh and giggle, so we got along fine!! As time went on, I got to know Doug better and we became fast and close. We laughed at the same things, even battling for the Class Clown title. It was during one of those moments where the teacher had had enough of our cutting up and jerked Doug out of his seat by his arm, that I noticed he always caught the brunt of the punishment while I always got the stern look and that was all. I felt bad for my friend but I couldn't do anything. He looked tho, like he was used to this. Like he had gone though before. I actually admired how "cool" he looked taking his punishment. All things became clearer when I got home and faced my mom who had just got off the phone with the principal. Doug apparently had a past. She explained to me that Doug had been in and out of juvenile homes and detetion centers for the past 2 yrs and had even been caught stealing a car. I was full of so many emotions I didn't understand at my age. This couldn't have been my friend. They had it wrong.... The next day at recess I asked Doug about everything. Reluctantly, he told me everything and even more than what my mom had told me. He didn't like to tell people because it usually ended up with him not having friends. Well, I guess something inside me just didn't care, and Doug and I carried on like nothing had happened. We rode bikes, dug fox holes in empty fields. Never ONCE did he ever suggest we do anything illegal or wrong. Mom even softened up and let Doug and me play in the house. She didn't know Doug like I did, and I know she kept an eye on Doug, but that was ok. He was used to it.
The Christmas holidays came upon us and we played off and on since school was out. Christmas came and went as did New Years and Doug stopped coming by to play. I knew it was because of the holidays and I would see him again after the first of the year. School came back into session and on the first day back at school I waited to see my friend. He didn't come that day or any day that week. I went up and asked the teacher about Doug and she said that he wasn't on the role in her class, but Doug might be in another teacher's class. I looked for him during recess, but never saw him. I figured his parents might have moved which was very common in an Oil & Gas town like Midland. I missed my friend. Class wasn't the same without him. My life wasn't the same without my friend...

A year later, I was coming out of sleep one Saturday morning and heard someone quietly open my bedroom door walk over and sit down on my bed and put a hand on my should. It was Mom. She didn't shake me, but gently squeezed my shoulder. "Honey?" I was awake now. "Yeah, Mom?" "They found Doug Robert's body". "What?" "He had escaped from the Detention Center and was climbing up a oil storage tank, got to the top and fumes over took him and he fell in. They recovered his body a day later". I was stunned beyond belief. What could I say? What could I do? Nothing. My heart hurt. I had never hurt like that before.
Monday morning Mom took me by the funeral home. I told her to stay in the car. I found the room where Doug's body was. I walked up and stood there and stared at this.. this body. This wasn't my friend. This couldn't be my friend. But it was. I became so angry at everyone including my mother who never gave Doug a chance. All the teachers who treated him like trash. The principal who felt it neccesary to tell the teacher about Doug's past assuring Doug of never getting a fair shake.

It was revealed later that Doug was sent back to detention for hitting a teacher at another school. He stayed there until the day he decided he too had had enough.

All I remember through all these many years was we were friends. That his past didn't matter to me, and he appreciated that. He laughed at my jokes and I at his. We were friends, good friends...
I miss you Doug.