LOVE AT THIRTEEN

by Hayes Hill

I lie here, in the middle of the night, full of love and memories. Realizing fully now what was just stirring inside me then, when I was thirteen.

Thirteen. Still a little boy, yet inside me was slowly growing the gentle seed of love which would mature and burst forth into the glorious flower that blooms within me now.

Dave. Dave was the fertile ground from which my shy young seed took nourishment. My ideal-strong, quiet, and kind. He always had time for me, and so I was constantly underfoot, like an adoring puppy.

Dave was one of six college students who roomed in my mother's big old house. The other five guys didn't know I existed, and could not have cared less. But Dave knew, and that's all that mattered.

He would take me places all the time. Camping mostly. He was a combination father and brother to me, as I had neither. I was the only child and Dad had died in Korea, so I never knew him. Dave said his father was also dead, so maybe he felt sorry for me.

The only times I ever hated him were when he went out with his girlfriend. But I never stayed mad long, because he'd always kid me out of it. "Hey, Bub," he'd say, "I've got to see my girl once in a while." Then he'd slap me on the back, and I'd pull away, pretending to be mad, and start running away. He'd laugh, and chase me out into the yard, where he'd catch up to me easily, because he was over six feet tall. Tackling me, I'd sprawl on the ground. Lying there, all sweaty and out of breath, I'd look up at him smiling down at me, and I knew I'd never be able to stay mad at him long. I liked him too much.

But all good things must end. I knew Dave would move away when he graduated. I just never liked to think about it. Yet, like tomorrow, it was inevitable he'd move out of our old house and out of my young life.

When the day finally came, as I knew it would, I was unprepared, as I knew I would be. Dave packed his things in his old Ford station wagon. I watched him with tear-filled eyes, from the seclusion of my upstairs bedroom window. He must have made twenty trips from his room downstairs, to that old car. And I wanted desperately to be by his side every step of the way, pleading with him not to leave. But instead, I just watched him with impotent anguish.

Finally, when he was ready to leave, he said goodbye to Mother. Then he glanced up to my window. I wanted to turn away, but I couldn't. Our eyes met. For a long time.

room.

Mother said something to him, and he walked up to the house. To my

My door was open. He stood outside, looking at me. "I'll miss you, Bub," he said. Then he extended his hand to me. I flew at him, hitting and kicking with all the fury in me. Dave just stood there, making no attempt to stop me.

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