Chapter 2 - Stamd By Me

I was fifteen years old, the year I started high school. Mandy, only twleve, was starting junior high. That was the year that everthing changed, the year I messed everything up, the year we stopped being best friends.

That year, I was going to the huge public high school, where plenty of kids wouldn't know me as "that-weird-guy-who-hangs-out-with-the-little-kid." I was tired of being known soley for Mandy and our friendship. I was tired of being ridiculed for having such a little best friend (at twelve, Mandy still looked no older than about nine or ten). So I did what any stupid high school boy would do. I dumped her.

I can still remember every detail of that day. She'd just hopped over the fence that day - August 31 - to come bother me at breakfast. The day was cool for August; so she wore faded jeans, a gray t-shirt, a blue and green flannel shirt (mine), her favorite New York Yankees baseball cap, and her sneakers - untied as always. Mandy was bouncing around in excitement over the end of the summer and beginning of school. Mandy loved summer, but she also loved school.

Anyway, there she was, bubbling over with excitement as she bombarded me with news: new school supplies, new clothes, new shoes, and a new playmate - her mother's brother Brandon would be staying with them until he found a place in Boston. All I could think about though was high school and what everyone would say once they new that best friend was a baby.

And that was when I did it. I blew up at her. I can't remember the exact words, but I was just screaming at her. I told her that she was a loser. That everyone at her school hated her, and that's why she had only me. And that I too hated her now. I taunted her, sharply and cruely.

I just kept yelling, drunk with the sick pleasure of watching her cheerful, dimpled face sag and crumple. She started crying and fled my kitchen. She easily hopped the fence, and flew into the safety of her own house. It was the last time she would ever set foot in my house.

I ran up to my room, furious with her and myself, and slammed the door. Immediately my attention was drawn to my open window. It looked right into Mandy's room, and we'd strung clothesline with a bell to get the other person's attention. Full of mercurial anger, I drew the blinds tight and tied them shut until the cord formed a vicious knot. I was not going to be bothered by her again.

My anger lasted all of two hours. Afterwards, I felt guilty and sorry. I wanted to go over and apologize, but I couldn't. The only thing larger than my stupidity is my pride. Besides, Mandy had proven herself time and again to be the bigger person, so I assumed that she would be the one to extend the metaphorical olive branch.

But then a week went by, and two. School started, and I was quickly buried in homework. It didn't help that I spent most of my free (and not free) time staring and at the curtains and wondering if she missed me too.

The months flew by, and even now I'm not sure what happened. On the outside everything was still the same: she got up early and went to school every day, no matter what. But I never saw her practicing her pitch in the backyard or just climbing trees. When she did go into the backyard, she looked so pale, frightened, and quiet. She would just mindlessly toss the ball around; or, more likely, she would sit in the tree for hours, doing nothing. Definitely odd for such an active, cheerful kid.

And I never saw her laugh, or even smile. Not once. Not even at the bus stop with her friends (the high school or junior high had the same bus stop). Sometimes her mouth would curve up a little in the motions of a smile, but it lacked the sheer happiness behind her grin.

I wasn't blind. I knew that something was happening to her. I knew that she needed me. But I couldn't. I was afraid. Mandy was always the one who took care of me - not the other way around. I didn't know how to be there for her. So I retreated into books and homework, pretending that I didn't recognize how desperate she looked.

This lasted months: from September to May. Finally, in May, someone rescued Mandy. But it wasn't me. I don't know all the details; all I know is what I heard and saw from my window.

I was studying in my room when I heard a scream. More screams followed, all coming from Mandy's room. Quickly, I tried to untie the giant knot; and, when that failed, I just cut it. I threw open the curtains, ready to come to her rescue.

I saw her sitting in her room, sitting in her mother's lap and sobbing. Her nightgown was wrinkled, and over it her mother had wrapped her in my flannel shirt. Her father was no where to be seen.

Several minutes later a police car pulled up to her house. The officers went into the house and soon emerged with her uncle Brandon in custody. Mandy's father followed them onto the lawn; I'd never seen him (a mild-mannered man who adored his only child) so angry. He looked ready to kill Brandon. Mr. Garrison talked to the officer a little, and then went upstairs to check on his daughter. I saw him holding her up in her room, rocking her gently as the police car drove off into the night.

Almost immediately after school ended, a For Sale sign went up in their yard; and soon it changed into a Sold sign. Mandy was moving. I couldn't face her. I was too afraid. But I watched from our tree the day they drove away in their station wagon. I sat there all day, watching the street.

Later, I heard that they'd moved to San Diego, California. I hoped that there Mandy would remember to laugh and smile. I hoped that she would find a better friend that me.

You may think that it's stupid for blaming myself for this after all these years, but it's not. If I had stayed her friend, or if I had only gone over and apologized to her right away; her uncle would never have been able to do those things to her. At the very least, it wouldn't have lasted as long as it did. Eight months! If only I'd been able to stand by her, protect her, she never would have gotten hurt. She was able to stand by me, but I couldn't stand by her. She needed me, and I failed her.

"So darling, darling
Stand by me
Oh, stand by me
Oh stand
Stand by me
Stand by me"

-Ben E. King
"Stand by me"