First Follower

Many years ago in the fourth grade I met a young man (whose Identity shall not be disclosed) who became what I like to believe is my first follower. Not so much in the religious since but in that I became an older brother or “mentor” figure to him. When we first met he was new to the campus and alone. He knew no one from here as he had just recently gone through a divorce and was living with his dad here in sunny Holbrook. In those days of youth I was all fun and games, and he quickly rose to become one of my best human friends.     

Unfortunately it was not to last. At the end of fifth grade he went and moved back with his mother in Florida where he stayed for the next three years. In that time we had no contact and I did not even know if he had survived the hurricanes that racked the south during that time. That all changed in the eighth grade when he suddenly came back. He had changed completely in appearance and in personality so much so that I did not know if it was even him. I was so shocked that when I first saw him I did not know how to react so I watched him from a distance until I finally determined that it was in fact the same person. When I did approach to ask him if he was the same person he simply replied with a yes. Apparently I had changed enough that he could not place me ether, but once we reacquainted ourselves our friendship began to resuscitate itself. At first it was tentative but rapidly snowballed back to its former self.

If only I knew what I was in for. Much like our friendship the boy’s troubles also grew. He had developed a terrible and violent relationship with his father and step-mother. Some fights were so violent that both he and his father had split lips and bruises. I rapidly not only became a friend but a close confidant. But he came to me not only to vent, but also to ask for advice. The poor kid had nowhere else to turn and was getting desperate. So I dispensed my wisdom and he listened. I soon became a mentor to him in such a way that he went to me over his family and treated me as an older brother. It was at this point that his problems began to come to a head.  One night he was so angry with his current situation that he wanted to kill his parents just to try and change his life. I took many hours of calm negotiation to talk him out of it, but eventually I was successful. I did not do it out of love or concern for his parents, but because I was concerned for his well being. This ended the talk of murder but the situation continued to worsen. Finally it reached critical mass. He ran away and no one knew where he was…that is until he called me. I spent the next week of my fall break acting as an intermediary and negotiator between him, CPS, and his mother. Eventually we managed to work out a deal where he would move out back to Florida with his mother if he reviled his location and allowed himself to be taken in. The last time I saw him physically he spent the night at our house and we sated up all night playing games and reminiscing.

Today he and I talk almost daily over the phone and he still comes to me for advice when he is troubled (which is a lot). He has since matured, earned a GED, gotten a job, and is currently a loving father of a beautiful daughter (which I am the godfather of) and is preparing to marry his girlfriend. He has repaired his relationship with his father and is trying to move back here once the marriage has taken place. He has even asked me to be his best man on that day.  Though I do not know what the future will bring him, but I know that whatever hardship he may undertake I will always be there as a brother should be.