I have a new best friend. He’s only seven and he doesn’t speak that much English, but he is still my best friend. His name is Josue and he is in second grade at SJBS. I can’t quite describe what brought us together. It may have been fate, perhaps destiny, or maybe just Josue’s affinity for things that are much larger than he is, but we are together nonetheless.
On the third day of school I was walking through our campus/compound when I suddenly felt something pulling at my arm. It was Josue. He was clawing at my arm with a beaming smile as I walked to the office and was repeating the same word over and over; “up!” And so up he went. I did curls with Josue for about ten minutes before I had to get back to class but that basically cemented our relationship. Two days later when I was walking to the office I felt a strange sensation on or around my leg. It was again, Josue, and he was sitting on my right foot taking me for a ride. I must have walked 30 yards with him on my leg before I gave out. And this seemingly odd yet beautiful relationship has continued in this manner for the past four weeks. I cannot even begin to describe how much I enjoy seeing Josue during the day. It is a relief to get away from the teenie boppers who just want to moan about everything. Josue has no complaints. As long as he is dangling from one of my limbs he is happy.
One of my favorite episodes with Josue was when he decided to join the teachers for lunch and verbally assault me. I call it, Point-Counterpoint. He came out of nowhere and found himself in my lap where he looked me in the eyes, his smile ear to ear, and exclaimed, “YOU’RE A BABY!”
I tried to correct him and told him, “No, you’re a baby.”
He insisted, “YOU’RE A BABY!”
“I beg to differ, you are in fact a baby”
“No, you’re a baby”
I persevered, “no, I’m a grownup, look how big I am”
He maintained, “no, you’re a baby”
I was beginning to catch on to his little game and countered with, “you’re an old man”
His rebuttal, “you’re a baby”
He was good, that I could be certain of, I was going to have to step up my game. “You retired from your career of 33 years and moved to Boca Raton, Florida”
“You’re a baby”
“You play in a shuffle board league on Saturdays in your retirement community”
“You’re a baby”
“Your wife Estelle makes the best darn casserole this side of the Mississippi”
“You’re a baby”
“You have a prosthetic hip”
“You’re a baby”
“You hate it when teenagers ride their skateboards on the sidewalk”
“You’re a baby”
“You have diabetes, but you are generally able to manage it”
“You’re a baby”
This went on for some time. He had a dogged determination to which I was not accustomed. After nearly seven minutes I finally conceded, “Fine, I’m a baby.” Josue confirmed, “YOU’RE A BABY!”
If I return to the U.S. and you suddenly realize there is a small latin child constantly clinging to me, you will know who it is.
