What Changed Me

It was early in the morning. The classroom was empty. Alfonso sat at his usual place, at
the front right of the classroom, and opened his literature textbook. Reading everyday had
become quite the habit for him. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows on the desk, as he
made himself more comfortable. His eyebrows furrowed as he became engaged in the
information letter for letter, word for word, sentence by sentence and from paragraphs to
pages. He was nearly finished the book when he heard a familiar voice. “Hey Al, what’re
you doing?”
Alfonso had known Maria Michaela Jones for almost 10 years now. They had met each
other on the playfield where she pushed him down while running. It was the start of a
beautiful friendship. From that tender age of five years, they always seemed to end up in
the same places. They attended the same church, lived in the same neighbourhood and
now, they both attended the same high school. Maria had a rather playful character. She
always used to tease Al about his height, or rather, lack of it. Summer had taken its toll
however and Al was now a good 6 inches above her head. Not only had he gotten taller
but wiser as well as he decided to approach fourth form with greater determination than
he had before. This time, he would make his father proud.
“Oh, nothing,” he replied casually as he closed the book. “Wassup?”
“Oh, nothing.” She replied, mimicking his tone and his calm expression. Al gave her a
glare. She smiled and giggled. Al turned his attention towards the clouds outside as they
drifted slowly across the atmosphere. “Wow. The sky is really blue today,” he said,
looking through the big glass window beside him, his eyes got lost in the distance without
hope of returning, “You saw it?” Maria paused and looked outside. Then, she faced him
with a confused expression, put down her school bag and sat in the seat next to him.
“What is wrong with you?!” she exclaimed, frightening him out of his skin as he jumped
in his seat, “You do so well in class but your head is just so blank.”
“And can you imagine that I’m beating you too?” he grinned as she slapped him
reflexively on the shoulder. “But seriously though, why do you do so well?” Al sat back
in the chair, suddenly feeling the nostalgia engulfing him. Maria placed her elbows on her
desk and rested her chin between both hands. She watched him intently, waiting patiently
for his answer. “Well you see, it’s a really long story,” he began as he rubbed his
beardless chin.
Tears streamed down Alfonso’s face. The Redwood household was supposed to be
asleep though not everyone was in bed. Al’s parents had been at it for the past hour now.
His little brother as well as himself had already been sent to bed but he had been awoken
by all of the shouting coming from downstairs. His father had come home a lot later than
usual and an argument had ensued. As he listened from the big chair in the adjacent
living room, he could not hold back his emotion. “It was the day after that when I neva
see ma fadda. That’s when mummy told me he was gone and he wasn’t coming back to
live with us,” Al said, looking directly into Maria’s eyes, “ From then on, mummy sent
my brother and I to some counselling sessions. We learnt a great deal about managing
with our feelings and the situation. At that time I was just five years old.”
“You know, I thought that children of divorce woulda probably eventually turn out pretty
bad in the future,” Maria said as she twiddled her thumbs “Wha’ mek you so different?”
 “So is only english yu good at, Eh?” Mr. Redwood asked his son as he glanced over the
term’s report card, “you know that you could have gotten all A’s on this one Al” He
shook his head as he went over it again, his thumb lying directly beside the place where
his sole A average was displayed in bold characters, screaming for individual attention as
it was unlike any other on the page. Al stood silently. As he had anticipated, his father
had more to say. “Good job all the same, you passed all of your subjects,” his father said,
the familiar phrase echoing in Al’s mind, “Keep up the good work.” He folded the paper
back into the brown envelope, sighed deeply, and left the dining table of his new two-
bedroom apartment, 3 years later. “That is what changed me. It was then and there I
decided that I was couldn’t take it anymore. A’ did ‘tink ‘Jah know star, if only a’ coulda
work a likkle harda’” Al sat upright, unfolding his arms from across his chest, “But you
know, a’ kinda grateful ‘dat I’m not like some of the people that I met at those
counselling sessions stills. Some of them were so messed up.”
“Really,” Maria asked in disbelief, “How so?”
“A divorce can have a lot of negative effects on people Maria,” Alfonso started, “The
depression causes them to do strange things. Amongst the people in our age group alone,
some became smokers, alcoholics and sex addicts. Many girls your age are getting
pregnant. A few guys are now ‘fathering’ their children. A lot of things.” Maria sat back.
Her face was expressionless and Al could understand why. “Oh, I see,” she said, looking
at the reflection of the sky in the big glass window. “But you know,” Al began, turning
towards her, “Having good friends makes all the difference. Sometimes, I’m not sure
what I would do if you weren’t around.” He said with a soft smile. “What did you say?”
she said, hoping that she hadn’t been imagining things again. Al sat back in his chair,
flipping through to the last few pages of his book, smiling. “Oh, nothing.” He said, in his
same sing song way. She looked at him longingly, then the school bell rang.