THE GIFT OF FRIENDSHIP

by

CQB & Stephen

CHAPTER 2

THE CHAPTERS

INTRO

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

The Hardy boys sat at the kitchen table with their mother, eating an after school snack of carrot sticks and Ranch dressing.  Between noisy bites, Frank and Joe talked about school, Christmas shopping, wish lists and Santa Claus.

Laura was caught by surprise when Joe suddenly became very serious.  “Mom, my friend George lives in a big house like ours two blocks back on Elm Street.  Tony says only old people live there.  Why would George be there?”

“George? I’ve never heard you mention him before,” Laura replied, taking in Joe’s thoughtful expression.

“He’s a new kid in Joe’s class,” Frank offered, picking up another carrot.

Joe gave his brother a sour look. “I was gonna say that.” Frank just shrugged and Laura could hardly suppress a smile.

It suddenly dawned on Laura who George must be – the child orphaned in the tragic insurance case Fenton was working on in New York City.  Fenton had told her that the little boy had moved to Bayport to live with his only relative.

Laura looked into Joe’s deep blue eyes.  How much would a seven-year-old understand?  “I think I know who your friend is, Joe.  I also think I know why he’s living in that senior apartment building,” she said carefully.

“Frank, Joe, do you know what an orphan is?”

Joe wrinkled his nose, but then shook his head.  He looked to Frank for an answer.

“I think an orphan is someone without a mom or dad,” Frank guessed.

“That’s right,” Laura smiled.  “It means their parents are not able to care for them.  Sometimes, a child is abandoned; his parents leave him at a church or orphanage or hospital without an explanation.  Sometimes a child becomes an orphan because their parents die.”

“Was George abandoned or did his parents die?” Frank asked. 

“I’m afraid they’re dead,” Laura said gently.

“H-how?” Joe asked, his voice catching in his throat.

Laura saw the tears welling up in both of the boy’s eyes.  She knew these questions were not out of morbid curiosity, but rather, they were from genuine concern for George.

“There was a terrible fire one night.  George and his mother were inside the house when the fire started,” Laura explained, “When Mr. Rossi got home from work after midnight, he saw the smoke and used his cell-phone to call the fire department.

“He knew his family was inside and hurried in to try and find them.  He found them both upstairs in the hallway.  They had passed out from all the smoke. 

“Mr. Rossi couldn’t carry them both, so he grabbed George first, and carried him outside.  Some neighbors had gathered by then and they looked after George while Mr. Rossi rushed back inside to get his wife.

“The fire department arrived about then, but it was too late.  There was a loud roar inside the house and several windows blew out, sending shattered glass everywhere.”

“Did something explode?” Frank asked.

Laura nodded and continued her story.  “Mr. Rossi had a photography darkroom under the steps.  The fire reached the chemicals and caused an explosion.  Mr. and Mrs. Rossi were on the stairs when the explosion happened.”

“Man,” Frank breathed out quietly, “that’s awful.”

“Yes,” Laura agreed.  “But that’s why George lives in that old house.  His only relative was his great grandmother.  A lady named Grace Olsen.”

Joe sat uncharacteristically quiet and Laura looked at her youngest with concern.  “Joe, are you okay, sweetie?”

Joe quickly looked up, a serious frown marring his smooth forehead.  “Mom, are George and his grandma poor?”

“I’m sure Mrs. Olsen gets some government money and now that George is with her, they will probably give her more help,” Laura carefully replied.

“I bet he doesn’t have much,” Frank pondered.  “His toys and clothes were probably burned up in the fire.”

Joe didn’t respond.  He might only be seven, but he understood what his mother didn’t say.  George was poor.

* * *

Before going to bed that night, George went to the small cardboard box in the corner of the living room.  It smelled like smoke and held all of his earthly possessions.  He knelt beside it and lifted the lid.  The smell of smoke was stronger with the lid off the box.

He dug under the few articles of clothing that hadn’t been washed yet to find his treasures.  His fingers wrapped around a small picture frame.  George pulled it out and stared at the image – a photo from an earlier time – it showed George with his mom and dad.

“I miss you,” the child whispered.  He hugged the picture to his chest and wiped a tear from his eye.  He put the photo back in the box and took out a small yellow car.  It obviously wasn’t new.  The tires were worn and slightly bent and the yellow paint had been chipped in several places.

George set the car down with a sigh and dug in the box again.  The red ball he found was scuffed and the white stripe around it was almost completely worn off.  George chewed on his lip, but then set the ball down beside the car.

George slowly lifted the last item out of the box.  He studied the details in the horse’s mane and tail; the intricate cut of the bridle, bit and saddle.  The wooden horse was beautiful and looked brand new.

George remembered the first time he had seen the horse…

“Look son,” Jonathan Rossi held the wooden horse and cart up for his son to see.  “This is the surprise I was working on for you.  How do you like it?”

George had looked at the beautiful carving with awe.  “It’s really mine?”

Jonathan chuckled.  “’Course it is, Georgie.  Happy birthday, son!” 

‘Was it only a year ago?’ George thought as he lovingly stroked the carved horse. 

When the firefighters had sifted through the rubble that had once been George’s family home, they’d found the horse, but not the matching cart.  The little cart had been destroyed by the fire, just like his other toys, his clothes, his house…his parents.

George held the horse close and sobbed into his sweater so he wouldn’t wake Granny.  Finally he stood up with resolve and went to the desk in front of the window.  He took a sheet of notebook paper and the roll of cellophane tape from the drawer.

As carefully as he could, George wrapped the horse in the paper and taped it securely.  He made a simple card from a second sheet of notebook paper.  He wrote, ‘Merry Christmas from George Rossi’ on the paper.

George put the wrapped package in the school book bag Granny had gotten him at the second hand store by the church.

George crawled up on the sofa that served as his bed and cried until sleep overtook him.

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