Free One True Friend by James Cross Giblin Page A

listening to Ronald.
    "So, Ronald. Is there anything you want to say?" Grace asked. "Something that made you happy this week?"
    "I beat Bruce every game we played."
    Alvin rubbed his mustache. "But what else, my man? Would you be mad if he won and you lost?"
    "Yeah."
    "He wouldn't be your friend because he won?" Grace asked.
    "Well, yeah, sometimes he wins—but I still would be mad because I lost."
    "Suppose you lost Bruce. Suppose he got mad at you and didn't want to be your friend. Would you be happy then?" Alvin leaned back in his recliner.
    Ronald thought for a moment, twisting one leg around the other. "No, but I'd be glad that I won the game."
    "Well, think about this, Ronald," Grace said. "Suppose you always won, and Bruce and your other friends got angry with you. So angry that they didn't want to play with you. How would you feel?"
    "Bad."
    Alvin said, "So what do you think is the most important thing? Winning all of the games or losing a friend?"
    Ronald looked confused. "Losing a friend?" he asked, not sure of the answer.
    "You got it," Alvin said.
    Grace nodded. "That's right, it's the friendship. So you should be thankful for Bruce's friendship, which
has nothing to do with who wins or who loses a game. The friendship is the most important thing." She clasped her hands and said, "Now, let me tell you what I'm thankful for."
    Amir didn't listen. He was still hearing her previous words:
The friendship is the most important thing.
Then he remembered what his mother often said:
A true friendship doesn't break easy.
    "Amir, it's your turn—what are you thankful for?" Ronald tugged at his shirtsleeve.
    "Friendship."
    He didn't even have to look at Grace and Alvin to sense their disappointment. He knew they hoped he'd say family. "And I won the best counselor award," he added, to change the subject.
    "You didn't even mention it." Grace sounded a little hurt.
    "I just found out today, and I was saving it for now to tell you."
    Alvin stood up. "That's wonderful. I could tell you were good with kids. Now, once again, is there anything bothering us that we want to speak on?" He looked around the room as though he was talking to everyone, but Amir knew better.
    "No, Mister Alvin. Nothing." He wondered, as he listened to Alvin's voice saying a prayer, whether the Smiths knew the whole story about him and Ronald, and their parents, too.
    "Dear Lord, thank you for your many blessings..."
    Amir kept thinking:
A true friendship doesn't break easy.

    Amir went straight to his room after the family devotions ended. He was afraid Alvin would follow him upstairs and try to talk to him, so he was relieved when the telephone rang and he heard Alvin laughing and talking to someone on the other end. The television suddenly blared; Ronald must have turned it on. Amir sat on the side of his bed and opened his notebook to a clean page. He wrote quickly and let the truth pour out.
Friday evening
August 28th
    Dear Doris,
    I am sorry I took so long to write you back. I received all of your letters and The Bronx News. Your newspaper as always is great, but your letters about Charlene made me feel real bad. They brought back some terrible memories. I think you should tell her mother about her and her sisters. You said she was your good acquaintance, but I think she is your friend, and you might be the only person who can help her. "A true friendship doesn't break easy," my mother used to say. I hope you believe that.
    Suppose you found out something about me like you found out about Charlene. Would you abandon me? Would you still be my one true friend? Or would you break the friendship like it was a piece of glass? Doris, I've been wanting to tell you some things for a long time—even before I left the Bronx—but I couldn't. I was afraid you'd look down on me. Or hate me.
    Your letter about Charlene brought back bad memories that I'd sealed up and buried deep inside myself. Now it's like the seal on the box has broken, and bad