The Gift

Ronny and Denis were the best of friends. They had met in kindergarden in Miss Breault’s class at St. Anne’s when they were assigned the same red blanket for nap time. It didn’t take long for them to start giggling and poking each other as little boys are known to do. More than once, they had to be admonished by the kindly Miss Breault who just smiled inwardly at the boyish behaviours she had been witnessing since she first started teaching.

Every year, Ronny and Denis would be promoted to the next grade. They always sat together unless pulled apart by some mean teacher who valued order over friendship. It did not matter. Because every recess, they could get together again to play tag, tug the girls' ponytails, hand upside down on the swings and shoot marbles. The best was shooting marbles. By grade 6, they were the undisputed alley players of the school, even though they were still two full years younger than their grade 8 rivals.

For his eleventh birthday, Ronny was given an exquisite  purple velvet Crown Royal bag full of marbles by his father. What a treasure. No one had ever seen marbles of such beauty. Among the booty was  a large croaker of coloured glass which looked like a miniature Jupiter, all swirls and smoke and perfect heft. This one Ronny prized above all the others. In fact, he nicknamed it Jupi. Denis was forever complimenting him on this possession and always asking if Ronny would like to trade for it. No price was ever set.

At recess  one day, Ronny was using a small steely. Steelies were the best when the ground was a little wet. The rest of his marbles were laid against the wall nearby, snug in purple velvet. Recess ended much too early as usual and the games had to end in favour of learning more about dangling participles. When Ronny went to fetch his Crown Royal bag, he instinctively checked for  Jupi. To his horror, Jupi was not there. Frantically, he checked his pockets, the ground against the wall and asked pleadingly if anyone had seen his prized possession. Alas, no one admitted to any useful knowledge.

Then Ronny did something he had never done before. He accused Denis of stealing Jupi when he wasn’t looking. “Ronny, I don’t have it” he said. But Denis knew who did. It was Henry who had pocketed Jupi while Ronny and Denis were playing. Henry did not have any marbles of his own.

Denis could not bring himself to tell on Henry. Henry was an outsider. His parents were never around and when they were his father beat him in front of his mother and his brothers and sisters. He often came to school with “injuries” he had sustained on the weekend: a biking mishap, a fall from a tree, an unfortunate encounter with a door. Everyone knew what really happened but what can eleven year olds do in cases like this.

Denis knew that if Henry were caught he would be suspended from school and certainly beaten by his father. Denis took Ronny’s accusation with a heavy heart. It was the most difficult thing he had ever done. Ronny, convinced of his best friend’s duplicity, decided never to speak with him again.

Fifty years passed. Denis and Ronny went their separate ways. Ronny became a school teacher, taught elementary classes for 35 years and had been retired for quite some time. Denis had passed away the year before surrounded by those he loved. One day, Ronny was looking through old boxes in his attic and found the purple velvet Crown Royal bag, still in pretty good condition and still holding the marbles of his childhood. Without thinking, he emptied the bag, hoping that maybe Jupi would be there. As he secretly expected, it was not there. Magically, the bag made him think of Denis, the childhood friend he once adored. He thought ruefully about the circumstances of their split and chuckled a bit at the tempest in a teacup that it truly was.

For a few days, he mulled over fond memories of his old schoolmate. “I should have forgiven him” he thought. “It was just a piece of glass.”  Ronny then decided on the spot that he would try to reconnect with Denis and let him know that he was forgiven because that’s what real friends do. They shrug off imagined slights and errors of youthful and not so youthful exuberance. “Better late than never”.

Ronny dug around and found out that Denis had been living in Mattawa for the last 20 years. After a few phone calls, he located a number for Denis’s widow, Annalise, but still did not know of Denis’s passing. He called the house and the phone was answered by Annalise. Ronny ran through his story and told Annalise that he was calling to forgive Denis for his offence of long ago, with the hope they might get together soon to mend the bridge that had been ruptured in childhood haste.

Annalise, holding back the tears welling painfully behind her eyes, told Ronny that her husband had recently passed away. Denis had always spoken kindly of Ronny even after all these years. Not a year went by when he hadn’t thought about calling Ronny. Annalise guessed that the time must never have felt right to him. Then Annalise said something unexpected. “ Denis forgave you long ago”. “He forgave me?” asked Ronny. “I don’t understand.”

“Denis never took Jupi from you. He was just protecting someone who would have paid much too high a price had he been pointed out. That’s the kind of man he was. The loss of his friendship with you, his boyhood idol, was the price of the gift he made to Henry.”

Forgiveness...a gift of love.

Bob

frailcanoe@hotmail.ca