Chapter One - Richards first impression

Part 1 - First Impressions


Rich's account -

This story is not my own. It is the account of the life of a man that I once considered my best friend. Once. Let us begin it there.

Nothing much ever happened in Hogan. It was a small town in North West Texas, a really small town, where everyone knew everyone else's business. I was born there, grew up and went to school there. My family had lived there for two generations. I was the eldest of three kids. There was me, Richard, my sister, Amy who was a little over a year younger than me and then there was Kyle. Mama always said he was the surprise. He was seven years my junior and I guess I had to become like his father since we had lost dad in an industrial accident shortly after my eleventh birthday.

Everything changed for us. Mama had to get a full time job, up in Brown Lake. Kyle had to go to daycare. And I suddenly felt like I had to be there for them all. I grew up quickly.

It was that summer of 1991, when I first met Philip Pascal. School had just got out and most of the kids headed out to play ball games. My sister Amy would be there watching. Not me. I hated sports. I just wanted to read.

So,I guess, I headed out that day with a bottle of water, a pocketful of candy and a book. Of course now I had my new responsibility. Walking next to me dragging his feet was my three year old kid brother Kyle. Child care was expensive and mama had decided that to save money, I could care for him that summer. I guess I should have resented it, but it seemed like it could be fun.

"Rich, swing!" he pleaded.

I sighed. The swing meant pushing and I kinda hoped that he would just go on the slide and stuff so I could read my book, but now I saw the truth. Babysitting would actually be a full time job that summer.

I pushed the creaky gate and we entered the playground. It was pretty quiet, but over on the swing was little Jude Turner from the gas station. Pushing him was a dark haired kid, maybe a little younger than me. I didn't know who he was. Strangers were rare in Hogan and he intrigued me.

"Swing Rich, swing." Kyle said, tugging the end of my shirt.

"We gotta wait Kyle. Go on the slide."

"Swing!" He said stubbornly. I could see the tears welling up.

The new kid looked over. He was definitely a little younger than me, now I could see his face. Probably the same grade as my sister Amy. His clothes were old, not the branded stuff that most kids in Hogan wore. His sneakers were battered and scuffed.

"Hi," he said. "You waiting for the swing?"

"Yeah," I replied. "My brother don' t wanna go on nothing else."

He nodded.

"Jude?" He asked the kid on the swing. "You wanna go on the slide now?"

"Yeah!" Jude Turner called.

He caught the swing and lifted Jude out.

" Thanks," I said.

Jude ran to the slide. Kyle looked at me.

"Slide!" He said.

I sighed and watched him run and play with Jude.

"Figures," I said. "I'm Richard, by the way. That's my brother Kyle."

The new kid smiled.

"I'm Philip. Jude's my brother."

He sat himself on the swing and began to kick at the dirt.

"So you new round here?" I asked.

"Yeah, I've come to live with my mom."

"Oh. Mrs. Turners your mom?"

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"Everyone knows everyone round here. It's a real small town."

I sank down on the ground, next to the metal post, and put my book to one side.

"Where did you live before?" I asked.

"In Midland, with my grandma."

"I'd love to live somewhere like that." I told him. "There is absolutely nothing to do here."

"Sure seems quiet. I did see some kids over by the school playing basketball. You play?"

"No. I'm not really into sports."

"Oh. So what you do in the holidays then?"

"I dunno, read or go fishing, I guess."

"Fishing? I'd love to go fishing."

"You've never been?"

"No, never." He said. He sighed. "I ain't got no stuff anyway. You need a rod and bait right?"

"Yeah, I got one, a good one." I told him. "It was my Dads."

The usual pain of the reminder of his passing flowed inside me.

Philip stopped swinging. He was looking at me funny, sensing my pain I guess. Usually other kids were awkward around the subject but he just seemed to get it.

"My dad died last year," I told him.

He nodded.

"That must have been hard," he said. "My Grandma died too. I lived with her all my life and she was like my mum and dad. I miss her. A lot."

I looked at him. I could tell he really did know the pain I felt. That made me like him.

"We can share the rod, " I told him, sensing he didn't wanna talk no more about death. "And bait is easy. Just bring a spade or something and we'll dig for worms. You wanna go tomorrow? Early morning?"

"Yeah," he replied, enthusiastically. "Oh, but I'm meant to be watching Jude."

"Join the club." I said beckoning to Kyle. "They can come. I got some little nets they can mess about with. They might scare away the fish but never mind. Fishing ain't all about catching stuff anyway."

He smiled.

"Sounds good." he said.

So that was it. A chance meeting in a kids playground. The bond of family bereavement and the responsibility of babysitting brought us together. Within a few days Philip Pascal became the closest friend I had ever had. And we became inseparable.