My Friend Jake

Mrs. Evans, the headmistress here at Quincy, gave me this journal. She said I can write happy things in it, or sad things if I want. She said I can even write stories about anything I want. She said that journals make great friends when you’re feeling lonely because they’re good listeners and you can always trust them with your secrets. I guess I have been feeling a little lonely since my friend Jake had to go. He’s my best friend. I don’t have too many other friends, just Mrs. Evans mostly.
I’m alone a lot of the time. I live in the Quincy orphanage in Beverly. My Mom and Dad and older brother are gone. They died in a car accident after I was born. I was a preemie, which means I was born too early, and I was real skinny, so I had to stay in the hospital for a long time after I was born. My parents were coming to visit me one day when they slid on ice into oncoming traffic. I have a picture of my Mom and Dad. It’s in a frame next to my bed. My Mom would have really loved me. I just know it. Sometimes when I stare at the picture long enough it’s like she’s smiling at me, like she’s really proud, and I can just feel how much she loved me. I swear that if I keep staring long enough she might even talk to me sometime. I miss them.
But Quincy’s not so bad, really. They have good pizza on Friday nights, and I get to watch all the TV I want on the weekends and they’ve got all the good channels too. I even get presents on Christmas. I got Chutes and Ladders last year, but I can never find anyone to play with. So I do get a bit lonely sometimes, and I’m not real good at making friends. Truth is the kids at school like to make fun of me. Like last year when I heard all the boys in my class talking about their favorite games. I didn’t know any of the games they said, but I brought chutes and ladders the next day to show them. They didn’t like it though. They laughed at me and called me poor. They were talking about video games, I guess. I don’t like how they’re mean to me like that.
My friend Jake is never mean. He’s my best friend. We met right here at Quincy. One night I was watching TV in the lounge. I remember it was a show about sharks. It was getting late and I must have dozed off for a minute because I remember jerking awake, like when you fall asleep when you’re not supposed to in school or when you’re watching a really boring movie. When I opened my eyes there was a boy in one of the armchairs across the room. I’d never seen him before, and to tell you the truth, he really scared me at first, how he snuck up on me like that.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“My name’s Jake,” he said, “and you’re Sam, right?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?” I said.
“They told me.”
“When did you get here?” I said.
“Just now”
“Do you live here now too?”
“Yeah for a little while. Right up the hall from you, actually.”
“Cool” I said.
“So, is there anything to do around here besides watch TV?” he asked.
“I’ve got Chutes and Ladders, the game,” I said, remembering the boys from school, “but its probably pretty boring.”
“Let’s play,” he said, and, boy, was I excited to hear that!
It didn’t take long before me and Jake were best friends. We did just about everything together�"ate dinner, watched TV, some nights he would even sneak into my room and we’d stay up late playing chutes and ladders and telling jokes and laughing. Hanging out with Jake was easy. We liked all the same things�"sharks, pizza, and especially funny jokes, and, boy, did ol’ Jake know some good ones. We sure had some fun, Jake and me. For the first time since I could remember I was really happy. When I was with Jake I felt like I belonged. And wherever we were, it felt like home.
It was funny though, about a few months after Jake moved in, Mrs. Evans, the head mistress at Quincy seemed real worried about me all of a sudden. She kept taking me aside and asking if I was OK. I told her that I was doing better than ever and not to worry. I told her that I used to be pretty sad, but now, since Jake moved in, everything was great, but I don’t think she believed me for some reason. She said that she would like me to see a doctor. I told her that I felt fine and probably didn’t need to go. She said she would like me to go anyway, so I did.
His name was Dr. Sparrow, but he asked me to call him Tim. I liked Tim and all, but he wasn’t a very good doctor. He usually just asked me a bunch of questions and forgot to take my temperature or any of that stuff. I never say anything though. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. The other funny thing about Tim was the way he dressed. He always wore jeans and Birkenstock sandals like Mrs. Evans wears in the summer. The more I think about it, I don’t think Tim knew much about doctors at all. Doctors aren’t supposed to wear sandals. Even I know that.
On my second visit with Tim he asked me if I liked board games. I told him I did, and that I had chutes and ladders at home and I told him all about how me and Jake played all the time. He didn’t have chutes and ladders, but he asked me to play a game called Mouse Trap instead. There were a lot of pieces, but, boy, was that a fun game. I beat Tim two times in a row, but he didn’t mind. He kept asking me questions about Jake for some reason, maybe he thinks Jake is sick?
When we were leaving Tim told Mrs. Evans that I have a fertile imagination, which was perfectly healthy for my age. He lowered his voice and whispered something else to her. It sounded like a lot of big words something like diss-ocean-ation syndrome and skits-or-friend-ia I cant quite remember, but whatever it was, it sounded pretty bad. Maybe I am sick after all? I hope not.
When I got home to Quincy I told Jake all about my visit with Tim and how we played mousetrap the whole time and how Tim didn’t give me any medicine or shots or anything. Jake really liked those funny stories about Tim.
It was a few days later when Jake told me he would be leaving soon. He said he would come back to visit me when he could. He said that we would always be best friends, no matter what. I didn’t understand what he meant, but he said he couldn’t explain it any better. And that was it. The next day he was gone.
That was about three months ago. Jake hasn’t come to visit yet, but I hope he will soon. And when he does I know it will be just like old times. We’ll talk and laugh and watch TV and just have the best time. I’ve got tons of stories to tell him when he does visit, some real funny ones about Tim too. Like the last time I saw him. We were playing a new game�"not like Chutes and Ladders or Mousetrap�"this game was different. Tim held up different cards�"some with pictures on them, some with shapes, and some covered with big blotchy spots of black ink. He called the game ror-shark or something like that. Whenever he held up a new card, I would say the first thing that popped into my head. We played for a while. There was an ink blotch that looked like a fish, so I said gold fish, and there was a picture of a tree, so I said Christmas. Then he holds up one of the picture cards and you’ll never guess who it was. It was Jake. So I said “Hey! That’s Jake”. He said Sam do you know this person, and I said yeah, that’s my friend Jake, the one I’ve told you about. Tim must have been confused or something because he said that it was a picture of my older brother, before he died. He was 10�"the same age as my friend Jake. Anyway, I thought that was funny. I’ll have to tell Jake next time he comes to visit.