I Had a Friend that Gave me Things
Summary: Two girls grow up together while exchanging little gifts.
I had a friend who liked to give me things. Old things, stained things, things she found under her couch cushion, and things she saw in shop windows that sparkled at her slightly.
It’s in the finding, she said, not the keeping.
The first thing she ever gave me was an icicle. It was so huge that it was half the size of me and she had to carry it over her shoulder like the great sword in the movies. A wandering soldier with no cause.
“Here,” she shoved it to me as I knelt on the ground in my puffy pink coat and Hello Kitty earmuffs. She didn’t even have a hat on. “Don’t lick it or anything.”
I blinked at it as I was building a snow castle in my yard. I made a face at her, “What’s that?” I wrinkled my nose at the huge thing.
“Yours.” She said simply.
She shrugged, “Cause you never call me weird at school.”
I bit my tongue and didn’t respond. I never did call her that, but I sometimes thought it.
“Whatever.” She dropped it in front of me without letting it break and then started trooping back to her own house.
I used the enormous icicle as a centerpiece to my snow castle and I asked my dad to call Izzie’s mom so she could come over later. My mom wasn’t happy with that, but my mom was rarely happy.
Izzie came over with red-flushed cheeks and we watched the Little Mermaid as she complained about evil sea witches actually being good people.
The second thing ever gave me was a smooth lake stone she picked up by the side of the road. “Here,” Izzie handed over the grey stone that was soft against my fingertips. “Take it if you want.”
I put the stone in my pocket and patted it there. “For good luck.” I walked closer to her in my little boat shoes and fishing hat. “I won’t ever skip it. Not anywhere.”
Izzie shrugged and looked off into the distance. “That’s not the point.” She looked away, “do whatever you want with it.”
I made a face, “So then what if I want to throw it away?”
“What if I want to lick it?”
“And what if I want to kiss it!” I said with a laugh and threw my arms in the air. “A big sloppy one!”
“You’re the weird one!” She said and ran away as fast as she could. I chased her all the way to the park where we used to play and bury our homework in the sandboxes. I never did skip that stone.
———-
The third thing she ever gave me was a burnt down candlestick. It smelled like oranges and was about half the size of my pinky. It was melted and lumpy and barely even candle-shaped any longer, but she handed it to me and grinned. “Take it,” she said and shook back her long dark hair. “If you want it.”
“I won’t burn it.” I promised.
“Nothing left to burn.” She said offhandedly. “And that’s not the point.”
“Okay.” I put it by my window side and sniffed it in the mornings when I watched the street start to fill with dog-walkers and bicycles. I sniffed it in the mornings and at night when yelling filled the house and the whole night seemed vast and hungry and I felt small.
The fourth thing she ever gave me was a bracelet. It was shiny and silver and had an engraving in it with curly, perfect letters.
“My name isn’t Ashley.” I said factually as we walked to elementary school. We’d have to take the bus next year when we both went to middle school together.
“I found it.” She said softly and picked at a scab on her right knuckle. “It’s not for you.”
“Then why are you giving it to me?” I huffed and started to scowl.
She shrugged, “it’s shiny.” She finally looked back at me with her dark eyes. “You look like you like shiny things.”
I rolled my eyes. “You should give it back.” I held it out, but didn’t quite drop it into her hands.
She snorted. “It’s yours now.” She started running, “forever and ever and ever. Even when the cops come!”
I ran after her. “I’m not going to prison for you, Izzie!” I shouldn’t have been laughing, but I was. I kept the bracelet for at least a couple nights under my pillow.
The fifth she ever gave me were test answers.
“This is cheating.” I refused to look at them as we sat behind the school in our secret place.
“Come on,” she shook her head. “Weren’t you just sobbing the other night about being afraid you won’t pass this test?” She said with contempt apparent in her tone.
I made a face, “this isn’t how I want to pass pre-calc.” I grumbled. “I can’t believe someone like you is my best friend.”
“Take it,” She shoved the papers in my direction.
Her fave grew red. “Take it, Cameron! Or I’ll be mad.”
”Be mad then!”
That was our first real fight. I never did ask where she got the test answers. But Izzie had her ways.
We didn’t talk for two weeks after that.
The sixth thing she ever gave me was a golden ottoman coin.
I was sitting in the red diner by myself trying not to go home where the house was anything but peaceful. Someone slunk into the booth across from me.
I didn’t look up. “I thought we weren’t talking.”
“Did you pass the test?” I didn’t answer as I flipped a page in my American history textbook. “Here.” She slid something across the table.
I glanced up once to see a shiny golden coin that was about as big as my whole eye. “Where did you get that?” I gaped.
“It was my grandfathers.” Izzie responded blankly.
“I can’t take that.” I bent over to get a better look at it. It had a round handsome face and thick middle.
Izzie shook her head. “He told me to use it if anything bad happened. For disasters.”
I scowled. “I don’t think this is what he had in mind.”
She went to stand up. “It’s for you.” She said hotly, “so stop ignoring me at school.” Her cheeks were uncharacteristically red. “I’m sorry.”
She left without saying anything else and I pocketed the golden coin and stared at it at night. I put it in my bag and carried it everywhere as we began to talk again.
The seventh thing she ever gave me was a bouquet.
I was crying on my porch with my face in my hands and my mom was inside yelling at my father for his shoes or hair or way he talked. She didn’t know. None of them knew.
Izzie came up the street carrying a bouquet and looking peeved at the universe or maybe rocks in her shoes and the way that cars sometimes didn’t use their turn signal before turning. She huffed and tossed a bouquet of red roses at my feet. “Here,” she growled, “if you want them.”
I shook my head and sniffled. “Go away…”
She sat in the place next to me on the porch. “Do you mean that?”
I didn’t know. “I don’t have anything to give you back.”
“You know that’s not the point.” She grumbled and I had nothing to say.
Finally, I crept a step lower on the porch with my head hanging low. “I didn’t get in.” I whispered. “To any of them.”
She crept closer as well. “Then fuck ‘em.”
I shook my head and the tears kept spilling over. “Mom is gonna be so disappointed.” I crushed my eyes closed. “I’m going to worry her more.” I wondered if Izzie knew what that meant. Worried. We used to joke that my parents cared too much and that hers didn’t care enough.
“Then make a new plan.” Izzie was always practical. “Tell them about that instead.”
“Where would I go?” I whispered and she offered something else to me.
She put out her hand. “I’m going to the coasts to see the ocean, maybe work on a ship, bum around a bit. Get a job or two.”
I bit my bottom lip. “That doesn’t sound like a life…”
She shrugged and withdrew her hand. “Life is what happens whether you like it or not.”
I curled up on myself and buried my face in my knees. Izzie got up and felt a trembling in my chest. She stepped away. “Wait.” I said as my thighs were wet with salt and my world capsizing. I knew I couldn’t let her leave. “How’d we even survive?”
She knelt down so we were eye level. “I’ll get you a house if you want it.”
”How.” It wasn’t even a question.
”The way I get anything.” She reassured and I was silent.
I peaked up through my shaggy hair. “What kinda house?”
She grinned, “One by the water, that part’s for me, and I’ll get you a bike and a big fat cat and any color curtains you can think of.” That made me smile.
“And what if I can’t get you curtains in return?” I slowly unbent myself. “What if I can’t give you a big fat cat and a bicycle back.” I offered her my hand. She took it. “That’s not fair.”
“I don’t need things.” She helped me stand up. “I don’t want them.”
I tipped my chin up. “Nothing?”
She shook her head and leaned a little closer. “It’s in the finding.” She whispered, “not the keeping.”
Something sly entered my voice, “Nothing in the world you wanna keep?”
She pursed her lips together, “Not unless… she’s willing to give it.”
“Here then.” I wrapped my arms around her neck. “Keep it. If you want it.” I tipped forward and Izzie crashed back down. And she seemed to say, yes again, and another yes.
She kissed me and it was all smooth stones and lost bracelets, shiny coins and melted candles, icicles and red roses. It was soft and real and grounded me past the places I was and forward to all the way to the places I could be. She kissed me like she wanted to keep me.
And I kissed her like I wouldn’t give her back.
