A few words about Caudy
I've fallen even farther behind in my writing, but I just can't let this one slip away any longer.
Caudy Browning was my closest friend in elementary school. He was born the day after me, an only child to two doting parents. His mother was always protective of him, waiting at the edge of the school property with his coat in her hand on cool days. I envied the attention he received.
Caudy was the one kid that I was never, ever mad at, though. Isn't it odd that decades later I can still remember how we always got along? Through the days of Greek Dodge (which he was good at and I sucked at) and Red Rover (a game which called for bulk, which I had in abundant supply), we always picked each other when sides were chosen. What a great feeling to know there was someone like that pulling for you to succeed.
Caudy ate the same lunch every day. It was always a mustard sandwich and Butterscotch Krimpets. Every day. I've never seen anyone else eat a mustard sandwich, before or since. I guess that was his level of comfort.
During middle school (we called it Junior High back then), Caudy and I started to drift apart. I was moving on in the accelerated path, while he was slowing down his studies with predictable results. I still saw him in the hallways, but it was with the bittersweet feeling you get when you see an old boyfriend or girlfriend. You just lose track of them and run out of things to say.
As we got to high school, Caudy's hair was long and the group he hung out with were party people. It was tough to watch. He seemed to be headed to someplace bad.
One morning, the kids at school were all abuzz about the events of the past weekend. There was big news. A car wreck had killed some kids who were out drinking and partying.
What a crying shame.
I'd never been able to tell Caudy what he meant to a fat kid in the fourth grade. It was unspoken, I guess. But it would've been better to actually corner him in the hallway just once and tell him he changed my life in a positive way.
Once he was dead, it was too late.
In the ensuing 34 years, every October 4th Caudy is in my thoughts.
Here's hoping there's Greek Dodge in Heaven.
goodenuff.
Caudy Browning was my closest friend in elementary school. He was born the day after me, an only child to two doting parents. His mother was always protective of him, waiting at the edge of the school property with his coat in her hand on cool days. I envied the attention he received.
Caudy was the one kid that I was never, ever mad at, though. Isn't it odd that decades later I can still remember how we always got along? Through the days of Greek Dodge (which he was good at and I sucked at) and Red Rover (a game which called for bulk, which I had in abundant supply), we always picked each other when sides were chosen. What a great feeling to know there was someone like that pulling for you to succeed.
Caudy ate the same lunch every day. It was always a mustard sandwich and Butterscotch Krimpets. Every day. I've never seen anyone else eat a mustard sandwich, before or since. I guess that was his level of comfort.
During middle school (we called it Junior High back then), Caudy and I started to drift apart. I was moving on in the accelerated path, while he was slowing down his studies with predictable results. I still saw him in the hallways, but it was with the bittersweet feeling you get when you see an old boyfriend or girlfriend. You just lose track of them and run out of things to say.
As we got to high school, Caudy's hair was long and the group he hung out with were party people. It was tough to watch. He seemed to be headed to someplace bad.
One morning, the kids at school were all abuzz about the events of the past weekend. There was big news. A car wreck had killed some kids who were out drinking and partying.
What a crying shame.
I'd never been able to tell Caudy what he meant to a fat kid in the fourth grade. It was unspoken, I guess. But it would've been better to actually corner him in the hallway just once and tell him he changed my life in a positive way.
Once he was dead, it was too late.
In the ensuing 34 years, every October 4th Caudy is in my thoughts.
Here's hoping there's Greek Dodge in Heaven.
goodenuff.
posted by goodenuff at 12:26 PM
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