Billy Bowman was my friend

Oct 30, 2024 • Category: Life

In second grade, I had a classmate named Billy Bowman. He was the best-dressed 8-year-old in school, always sporting a snap-up shirt, cowboy boots, and classically styled hair neatly combed and raised in the front like Ricky Ricardo’s. Billy’s voice was a cute mix of high-pitch and gentleness, with a refined bilingual accent that made each word and sentence sound flawless. I can still remember the sparkle and excitement in his eyes when he spoke. Billy was a beautiful boy.

Our parents knew each other, and on that particular afternoon, it was arranged for Billy to come home with me after school. However, as we walked together, I found myself suddenly indifferent. Perhaps it was Billy’s incessant chatter about playing with my toys and watching TV together, a stark contrast to the shared space he had at home with his sister. Or maybe I was just tired and wanted to take a nap, so, I told Billy, “Let’s just do it some other day.”

What I failed to realize was that Billy had been eagerly anticipating this visit all week. He had looked forward to spending time at his friend’s house, imagining how much fun they would have. I’m sure his mother was so happy for him. I never considered their feelings nor the disappointment my words would bring.

I wish I could have foreseen the sadness I would feel in the future, the regret of having let a friend down. I wish I had known then how valuable true friendship is, how sensitive feelings can be, and that such moments would weigh heavily on my heart when I grew older. Even if I had been told, I might not have listened.

So, right there at the corner of St. Regis and Templecliff, Billy’s tears began to fall. I felt a tinge of guilt, but evidently not enough to change my tune and bring him home with me. I watched Billy turn and walk away towards his own house. He was downcast. I was wrong, I had rejected him.

There was no color then. I rejected my friend in black and white, and he cried. I’m sorry, Billy. A real friend doesn’t do that. A real friend just wouldn’t.