Also the ****'s mean that time has passed.
4 year old Roger Davis was walking alongside his mother toward the door of the New York City Pre-School. When they reached the door, Mrs. Davis smiled at her only child.
"Are you ready to go in Roger?" She asked him. He shrugged and nodded. She led him inside where he would be given a student ID.
"Hello." The woman behind the counter in the main office said.
"Hello, my son Roger is starting his first year of Pre-School." Mrs. Davis said.
"Ah, yes. Roger Davis correct?" She asked the 4 year old. Roger nodded, but didn't speak. Then the door opened and in walked a small blond haired and blue eyed boy with glasses that looked to big for his face. His clothes fit him nicely and his ocean blue eyes took in everything around him. The boy looked at Roger for a moment, taking in the dirty blond almost brown hair that covered his ears, and the leaf-green eyes. Roger's clothes hung off him like a tent due to the fact that he was too thin to fit into anyhting very well. Roger turned back around as his mother led him into his classroom.
"Well here you are Roger. Have fun alright Honey. Daddy will be here later to pick you up." Mrs. Davis told her son
"Alright Mom." Roger said, his voice was breathy from lack of use.
"Well, love you Roger. I'll see you later." Mrs. Davis told him, kissing him goodbye.
"Love you too Mom." Roger walked away and went and sat down in a corner. Then the same boy he had seen earlier walked in. He tripped over a fold in the carpet and went sprawling. A few of the other kids laughed at him and told him to watch where he was going. The boy scrambled to his feet and rushed away from the group. Seconds later a kid who looked to be about 5 years old came and pushed the blond down. Roger crawled on hands and knees closer to see what was going on. The blond was trying to inch away but the older kid kept coming, pushing him and finally took his glasses and threw them on the floor so that they broke. The 5 year old left and the blond groped helplessley for his glasses. Roger crawled closer and picked up the broken glasses.
"I found your glasses." Roger told the blond.
"Thanks. Are they bwoken or do they still work?" The blond asked. Up close Roger could see that the blond boy was tiny. Roger was as tall as all the other kids but this little blond haired, blue eyed boy was at least a head smaller than the others.
"Your glasses are broken. I think you could tape them to-to. Well you could use tape and fix them." Roger said.
"Oh you mean tape them together?" The tiny boy asked.
"Yeah that. How do you say that word again?" Roger said.
"To-geth-er." He sounded it out for Roger.
"Together?" Roger asked.
"Yep. By the way my name's Mark Cohen. What about you?" Mark asked.
"Roger Davis. Let's go tape your glasses together." Roger said.
"You may have to help me. I can't see if I'm not wearing my glasses." Mark said.
"Alright. Here why don't you hold my shoulder so that I can help you." Roger suggested.
"Okay. Just tell me if I need to step up or down." Mark said.
"Alright." Roger led Mark to the teacher. "We need tape." Roger told her.
"Why?" The teacher asked.
"Mark's glasses broke. We thought tape may fix them." Roger explained.
"Okay, here's your tape." The teacher said. Roger nodded and took the tape from her.
"Thanks." Roger took Mark over to a small chair. Roger wound the tape around the nose-peice of Mark's glasses. "Here I fixed them for you." Roger handed the glasses back to Mark and the boy put them back on his nose.
"Thanks for fixing my glasses. Hey do you wanna see my camwa?" Mark asked.
"You mean camera?" Roger said with a grin on his face.
"I said that didn't I? Oh well. Here it is." Mark said pulling out a small Playskool camera from a backpack Roger hadn't noticed before.
"Wow that's cool. How do you film with it?" Roger asked the blond. Mark showed Roger how the camera worked.
"Hey wanna see my guita?" Roger asked the smaller boy.
"Alright." Mark agreed.
"I don't have it with me right now, but maybe you could come over after school today to see it." Roger suggested.
"Okay, I'll ask my mommy when she comes to pick me up." Mark told the taller boy. Roger nodded.
When the bell rang telling the end of the school day, Roger and Mark were friends. They were walking to the door side by side with Mark carrying his camera by his side. Roger spotted his father right away and gabbed Mark's wrist and dragged Mark over to him.
"Hi daddy. This is Mark. I was wondawing if Mark could come over for a while?" Roger asked Mr. Davis.
"That's fine. We just need to ask Mark's parents." Mr. Davis told the two boys.
"There's my mommy. We can ask her now!" Mark exclaimed, suddenly excited. His glasses bounced around on his nose as he jumped around for a moment. "Come on Roger!" Mark yelled and ran toward his mother, Roger followed and Mr. Davis jogged to keep the two in sight.
"Hi mommy." Mark said as he reached Mrs. Cohen.
"Hello Mark. Who's this?" She asked seeing Roger.
"This is my friend Roger Davis." Mark said introducing Roger.
"Hello Roger." Mrs. Cohen greeted.
"Hello."
"It's okay you can call me Mrs. Cohen." Mark's mother said.
"Alright. Nice to meet you Mrs. Cohen." Roger said shyly.
"Mommy can I go over to Roger's house for a while?" Mark asked.
"Did Roger's parents say it was okay?" Mrs. Cohen asked.
"Yep. So can I?" Mark asked.
"Alright. I'll be over in an hour to pick you up." Mrs. Cohen said.
"YES! Come on Mark!" Roger called.
"Bye Marky! Love you!" Mrs. Cohen called after her son.
"Love you too Mommy!" Mark called back. The two boys ran over to Mr. Davis.
"She said Mark could come over!" Roger yelled to his father, happily.
"Alright. Let's head home." Mr. Davis told them. They walked off down the street. Roger and Mark were walking next to each other. Mr. Davis was in front of them. When they reached the street that ran in front of Roger's apartment building, Mr. Davis held their hands to lead them across. Mark walked along with a grin on his face, and took his camera out and started filming.
"August 23, 4:00 in the afternoon, New York time." Mark announced.
"Mark I think you mean Eastern Standard Time." Mr. Davis told the undersized four year old.
"Yeah. That's what I meant. So... August 23, 4:00 p.m. Eastern Standard Time." Mark announced again. He was filming everything. Roger, birds, Mr. Davis, just everything. Roger doubted that the blond ever put his camera down. From what Roger could see, Mark was going to be a filmmaker someday.
"Mark, what do you wanna be when you grows up?" Roger asked.
"I haven't thought about it. Mabye a movie maker." Mark replied. "What about you?"
"I want to be a songwriter with a band and sing in front of lots of people." Roger responded, his leaf-green eyes lighting up at the very thought.
"Wow maybe I could make a movie about that." Mark said. Roger nodded and watched as Mark continued filming. When they got to the door to the lobby of the building, Roger and Mark squirmed their hands free and ran to the stairs.
"Wait for me boys!" Mr. Davis called. The two stopped with one foot on the first step. Mr. Davis grabbed the back of Roger's too big shirt and picked the boy up. Then he did the same for Mark and carried the two boys up the stairs on his shoulders. Mark yelped with delight. Roger grinned, but didn't make a sound. When they reached Roger's floor Mr. Davis set both kids on the floor and Roger seized Mark's wrist and dragged him into his room. Mark looked around at the white walls covered with what he guessed were Roger's own drawings done in black crayon.
"Mark, this is my guita." Roger said pulling a small aucoustic guitar out from under his bed. Mark looked at the wooden guitar which like Roger's walls was covered with drawings. "Wanna hear me play?" Roger asked.
"Sure." Mark looked for a spot to sit amongst the clutter of Roger's room. When Mark found a clear spot to sit down. Roger gently began strumming a few notes. Mark was surprised, Roger was a good player for someone so young. Roger stopped halfway through.
"Why'd you stop?" Mark asked.
"That's all I had so far." Roger said. Mark began clapping for the young musician. Roger bowed and Mr. Davis walked in.
"Are you boys hungry?" He asked. Roger and Mark both nodded.
"What do you want to eat?" Mr. Davis asked.
"I want pizza." Roger said.
"Yeah so do I." Mark said.
"Do you two want anything on it?"
"Pepperoni." Roger said in an excited voice.
"Nothing." Mark said.
"Alright." Mr. Davis said and he left Roger's room. Roger's face suddenly got serious and he looked around. Then he dug down under the mess of his room and managed to pull out a Playskool michraphone.
"Do you like singing?" Roger asked the filmmaker.
"A bit." Mark replied. Roger grinned and began singing a song from 'Sesame Street'. Mark joined in and soon both boys were running around Roger's cramped room. Roger played his guitar along with the music and Mark kept singing. Then they switched and Mark sang without the michraphone and Roger sang with it. When Mr. Davis called them down for dinner, Roger flung his guitar and it landed on his bed and Mark put the michraphone down carefully and grabbed his camera.
"Hey boys. Are you having fun?" Mr. Davis asked them. They nodded and eagerly each took a peice of pizza. In order to keep his hair out of the way of the pizza sauce, Roger had to tie his hair back. Mark spiked his up even more than it had been. Then there was a knock on the door. Mr. Davis answered it and Mrs. Cohen walked in.
"Mark, your mom's here." Mr. Davis told the blond. Mrs. Cohen walked into the kitchen.
"Hi Marky." Mrs. Cohen greeted her son.
"Can't I stay for a little bit longer Mommy?" Mark asked as he began to pout.
"No I'm sorry Marky, but Dad needs us home so he can go to the store or else we won't be able to eat tonight." Mrs. Cohen told him gently.
"I've already had dinner though." Mark replied pointing to the pizza.
"Did you thank Mr. Davis for giving you two dinner?" Mrs. Cohen asked.
"Thank you Mr. Davis. The pizza was good." Mark said.
"You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed the pizza." Roger's father replied.
"Good Marky. Now come on. Say good-bye to Roger and Mr. Davis."
"Bye Roger. Bye Mr. Davis." Mark told them still pouting.
"Thanks for watching him." Mrs. Cohen said to Roger's father.
"It was no problem. Mark is easy compared to this one." Mr. Davis told her, tousling Roger's dirty blond hair.
"Thank you. Well we must be going. Good-bye." Mrs. Cohen said.
"Bye Mark!" Roger called after the smaller blond.
"Good-bye Mrs. Cohen." Mr. Davis said to Mark's mother. Mark and his mother waved as they got to the door. Roger was sad to see Mark go, but he knew he would see him at school the next day.
Roger woke up early the next day. Mrs. Davis came and helped the boy get dressed for school. Roger pulled a wet comb through his dirty blond hair and pulled his bangs over his forehead. Roger ate Cap'n'Crunch for breakfast that morning. He walked out the door with a new mini guitar case. His small aucoustic guitar was inside and tuned to perfection.
"C'mon Mommy hurry!" Roger urged his mother.
"I'm trying Rog. What's your hurry?" Mrs. Davis asked.
"I have a new best friend!" Roger told his mother.
"Ah. Who is he?" Mrs. Davis asked.
"His name is Mark Cohen. He came over yesterday!" Roger said.
"Very nice little Roger." Mrs. Davis told him. Roger nodded and hurried to school. When he arrived, Mark was already there.
"Hi Mark!" Roger called out a greeting.
"Hey Rog." Mark called back. Roger ran to the smaller blond.
"Mark, I brought my guita with me today. Did you bring your camera?" Roger asked.
"My camwa almost bwoke last night, but otherwise I has it." Mark responded.
"Cool." Roger replied. He reached over and tousled Mark's short spiked blond hair.
"Hey!" Mark protested as he attempted to spike his hair back up.
"Roger don't tease Mark." Mrs. Davis told Roger.
"Sorry." Roger apologized. Mark grinned and kept trying to spike his hair up. Then the bell rang and Roger and Mark hurried into the building. "Bye Mommy!" Roger called back.
"Bye Rog, bye Mark!" Mrs. Davis replied.
When they walked into their classroom their teacher, Miss Martinez, was standing at the front of the room.
"Hello Roger. Hello Mark. Nice of you two to join us, please sit down." Miss Martinez told them. Roger and Mark sat down quickly and payed attention to what their teacher was teaching them a bit about spelling and how to write. When free period came all the kids began playing. Roger took out his guitar and tried to come up with the rest of his song. Mark was filming everything in the room. Then a small, thin girl with shocking red-ish blond hair came over to Roger.
"Hi. I'm April Ericcson. Who are you?" She asked Roger.
"I'm Roger Davis. I'm 4 years old. How old are you?" Roger asked.
"I'm 4 too. I like your song. Do you have words for it yet?" April questioned.
"Thanks. But no I don't know what the words could be yet." Roger responded.
"Rog can you...oh hi what's your name?" Mark asked.
"Mark Cohen, this is April Ericcson." Roger said the introduction.
"Hi Mark." Apirl said shyly.
"Hey." Mark greeted. Roger began playing again as Mark went back to filming.
As the year wore on Roger came up with more bits and peices to his song. Mark now had at least 15 screen plays. April was getting ready to move to Boston for a while and wouldn't be back until high school. Roger and Mark went to her going away party and Mark caught it all on film. At the party April gave them each something to remember her by.
"Here Roger. You take this." April gave Roger a dog tag necklace that had a guitar engraved into it.
"Thanks April. I love it. I'll miss you." Roger said giving her a hug.
"And Mark this it for you." April handed Mark a blue and white scarf.
"Thank you. I'll never loose it. I'll miss you. But we'll all see each other in high school." Mark told her, giving her a hug as well.
"Here April take this." Roger handed her a necklace that had her name attached to it.
"Thank you Roger. I'll wear it always."
"I brought you this." Mark handed her a little stuffed toy dog.
"Aw Mark it's so cute. Thanks. I'll miss you both so much." April said. She hugged them each one more time before she climbed into the car and her parents drove away. April looked back and waved to them.
"Bye April." Roger whispered.
"Last shot April Ericcson as she leaves for Boston." Mark said as he filmed her departure.