Chapter 2

Life for a nine-year-old is not measured in units of time particularly, but in things people say. Or, more importantly, the way the words are heard.

School always started the day after Labor Day. This year, barring any natural disaster, would be interesting. (Years later I heard that there was a Chinese curse that went something like "May you live in interesting times"). I was excited for Sam (who was quite nervous) and happy to see some of the kids in my class that I had grown up with. Further, I wanted for them to meet Sam. I just knew that they would like her.

The days just before the Labor Day weekend were the usual blur, shopping for clothes, getting a new backpack, getting a haircut - you know all the stuff that has to be in place before school starts. Tuesday came around and soon Sam and I found ourselves walking to school. Sam's parents had dropped by the school the prior week and completed her transfer so it was left to me to show Sam around the school that I went to for a few years.

I was happily chatting away telling Sam about how cool this teacher was, and which ones to stay away from, until I noticed that Sam was quiet. She was not her normal teasing happy go lucky self. I asked her what was going on and I guess by that time we had become such good friends that she thought I should be able to read her mind because she didn't answer. She had good cause to believe that, but after all this was the first day back to school and my mind was going about a million miles an hour.

We stopped about a block from school and I turned to her and said, "Sam what is going on with you, I haven't heard a peep outta you all morning long?"

She responded with, first a look (you know the one... doofus) and then, "Tom, nobody knows me here but you., I'm nervous and my stomach feels a little jumpy."

Here was shock number one in my short life. Sam was nervous? How could my best friend be nervous? From the moment I had met her she was a bundle of confidence and a girl that seemed to know just about everything.

She and I were about the same height. She had a slender build (no baby fat), blond hair and piercing green eyes. What did she have to worry about? I wanted to think before I spoke further (and got in deeper). A couple of minutes went by and I gathered my thoughts together and said to Sam, "Today is the only time you will get to make a first impression on anyone at this school. Be yourself and don't forget I will be right by your side for every class except PE and I already know you can outrun most anyone around."

I could see her take a deep breath, visibly relax and square her shoulders. Like the day we met, she had found her spine. I wonder where it had gone during that walk to school, but it seemed to be back. This was gonna be great, my best friend in all the same classes and I was sure that my school year would be every bit as great as the summer. At least I was until that first bell rang...

As I reflect in silence here at the coffee shop, with Sam across from me, it could have been that first day at school when she saw in me what I could and would become. Maybe I should take lessons in observation. She could teach them all day long. I learned lessons in school that day that would make me the man I am. A man who would be gentle, considerate and kind to most I met. That day was the beginning of my transformation.

As we shuffled through the hall to our first period homeroom. I was shouting "hi's" and "howareya's" to friends we passed in the hall, not thinking to introduce my best friend. I guess I took her for granted and thought that she would just know these guys and gals. She stiffened after the fourth or fifth person had gone by and it dawned on me what I had done. I started, with the very next person, to introduce her. "This is Sam, Samantha Morse, she moved in next door this summer and she's real cool." Sam flashed the 500-watt smile saving the extra wattage for just the right time. (I would see the 1000-watt version many times throughout the next few years.) Maybe somehow she knew that dazzling people with the full power would perhaps blind them.

We made it to our assigned seats. I could never figure out how the teacher would assign seats, but I could not ever, and I mean never, remember getting to sit right next to my best friend in any class that I'd ever had. It seems that teachers and parents talk. I think I figured that out a little later in life, but for now I was stumped.

Each student was required to stand up, state our name and give a brief self-history. (I guess mostly for the teachers sake.) It was kinda stupid, everyone knew each other in that class, except Sam. Why did we have to do this? Guess it must have something to do with public speaking. (Good thing, because it would come in handy in later years.) When my turn came around I slowly stood up and said, "My name is Tom Morgan and have lived in thistown all my life. I have one exciting thing to share with you. I hadsomething real neat happen this summer. I met my new best friend. She is sitting right here. Sam, I think that it's your turn next."