When I was a toddler, I had it made. My parents cared about me, took care of me, protected me. Life for me was just like bobbing up and down gently in the shallow part of the ocean. Events flowed past me, and all I had to do was stare at them, observe, think, pause, then wave them goodbye. All was peaceful, and life was calm, clear as crystal, with only an occasional surprising object floating past me. And, of course, my parents were always there to reel me back in and keep me safe if I ever drifted too far away. I was safe. Safe, that is, until the wave crashed over me.
…

I was three and a half years old (“and a half” was really important to me back then), when I first met him. The scary kid. The violent one. The berserker. When I met him, I even thought he was part zombie part human. But let me back up a bit, we (my family and I) went to another family’s house to hold a Bible study. We parked our car, walked up the wooden steps of the apartment, and I tentatively reached up and pressed the doorbell. The house’s interior instantly erupted in clamorous noise, and a mom (I found out later that she was a single mom) opened the door, with “him” standing closely by her. The boy. The scary boy. The freaky boy. I saw he was about my age. As we stared warily at each other, my parents and his mom warmly greeted each other, and his mom graciously welcomed us in.

I cautiously stepped into the living room, and took off my shoes and put them by the door. I could feel his eyes drilling into the back of my head. I heard my mom called out, “Come on Jeremy, say hi to Daniel”. So that was his name. I slowly dragged my feet over to him and with my eyes down mumbled, “Hi”. He in turn said something so quiet and indescribable, which could have ranged from “Oh hey you” to “I hate you”. But I couldn’t tell and neither could anyone else, so everyone just stood there in silence. Daniel’s mom finally broke it. “So, what do you guys want to play?” referring to Daniel and I. I still preferred that we stay apart for some unknown reason, as if our very nature repelled each other, and was content with him remaining the “him” and me staying me.

So as our parents talked cheerfully and lightly about various matters, “him” and I were trying to pretend to be entertained by fiddling with Legos, all the while avoiding eye contact. Occasionally, I would sneak a glance at him, and found that he had these scars marking up his face and neck, as if he was scratched from a fight with a cat. All this information disturbed me even more, and compelled me to continue to be repulsed by him.

And that’s how it went for the next couple of times our families met for a Bible study; our parents talking, me trying to stay entertained and occasionally staring at “him”, “him” also trying to have fun and occasionally staring at me, at times studying intently. I wondered what was even so vaguely interesting about me. He was the one we should be staring at, I thought. However, as more time passed, and we kept seeing each other at our family Bible studies, for some very strange reason, the separation between us which had once been such a cold, dark, immense, and intimidating palisade now gradually seemed to shrink into nothing but a small pile of dirt that we actually enjoyed hopping over.

I remember one time when he first started showing signs of life in his interaction with me when we were playing with Legos again. We were both trying to build things, and secretly stole glances at the other’s creation. It ended up feeling like an unspoken challenge to see who could build the best. And while I was looking attentively back and forth between my creation and the box of Legos, he started laughing. And laughing. I looked to see what was going on. When I saw, I started laughing too. Giggling at first. Then, when I couldn’t hold it back any longer, laughed as hard and as long as he did. At first, when we both noticed each other laughing, we suddenly stopped, a bit frightened when we saw each other staring, but then he held up his Lego creation, the object of our amusement, and we continued to laugh pretty much the rest of the time. When our parents finished talking, and saw us having fun, they were happy too. The rest of that day, I was pretty much smiling the entire time.

The next time we were going to meet, I was excited the entire way there and actually looked forward to meeting him. I bounced up and down in my car seat, bounced out of the car, bounced up the stairs to his house, and bounced up to ring the doorbell. The door practically bounced open too, and there was he, grinning as much as I was. He was extremely thrilled and pumped up, and I could tell he was nearing hysterical. He was so excited to the point that he grabbed my arm and dragged me inside. He continued to grip my arm and proceeded to start spinning me around. Both he and I thought it was extremely fun. However, as we gained speed, I began to grow nervous. The wall seemed to be gradually creeping toward us, too. Suddenly, my fun ended with a bang. I had hit the wall. I was stunned. Then the pain came. Flooding over me. And my face hurt. Abruptly, the tears came. And as our parents came rushing over, I saw him. The violent one. The scary one. And I remembered my first impression of him when we met. And I cried even more.

…

We still continued to meet for Bible studies. But him and I had to start over again. Back to the quiet, forbidding, judging silences between us as our parents talked on. Except this time, it felt like there was no hope for happiness. The air bore down on us heavily, and the atmosphere felt almost suffocating as we sat there in sullenness a short distance away from each other. Months passed. I thought whenever we met up, “It’s never going to be the same”. And as time trudged past, it took my memories of the good times with him away. Which was why I was surprised when greeted me by name and said, “Hey Jeremy, I’m sorry.” I remained silent. Then he proceeded to say, “So what do you want to do now?” And I was thinking, “Right, after all that happened, what should we do now?” But I still held onto that cover of silence that through time’s chafing I had grown to love. He proceeded, “Do you want to go outside?” and began leading me outside to his large backyard. I began to be curious as to what he had in mind, especially when he asked his mom for her iPhone. And when I went outside, he started videotaping. When I realized he was videotaping me, I got confused and ran over to him. He had this funny smile on his face. Then I saw what he was looking at. I started laughing suddenly, too. And all at once, we were there, laughing, together.