Best Friend
By Katarzyna Biela
You sat on the lady’s lap, tucked firmly, gripping her sweater so your knuckles turned white. You cried, sobbed, covered yourself with tears, as if they could – maybe they could – protect you. It wasn’t even your grandma. The chair in the nursery was far too small for her.
Your teddy bear was white, too. Wearing a grey tracksuit, it looked both worn out and deeply loved. Whenever it’d sneak out of your hand, you’d quickly catch it back.
I wondered if you bothered at all about me and other kids looking at you, a bunch of four-year-olds sitting on a rug, thinking what to do. We tried to act naturally, as if nothing weird was happening, so as not to make it awkward. But it was impossible to play, and we couldn’t help staring. That was our kindness I suppose.
Ms. Halina tried to untangle you and carry on with our daily activities, but you wouldn’t let her. And it’s not that you cried once. It was then and then, and then again – you clearly wanted to tell us something, through the tears, and though I tried, I really did try, I couldn’t understand you.
Twenty years later I look at you again. You’re sitting across the table in a sunlit café, wearing a loose summer shirt, your sunglasses resting on your head. You’re telling me how you didn’t manage to die because you swallowed the whole pack of antidepressants with tea, not alcohol.
I can’t help thinking about those times when I wish I kept closer to you. The New Year’s Eve when I didn’t want to drink with you. The film you recorded that I didn’t praise well enough. The talk we had when I didn’t want to admit you were wiser.
Your fingers play with the recyclable straw in your iced coffee, and I see what I’ve done by not doing anything. And my only thought is: I should never have let your hand out of mine. I should have fucking held you.
THE END
Author Bio: Katarzyna is from Poland. Her work has been published in the Polish magazine eleWator and in the international magazine Prospekt. She took part in the "Journey Around Our Rooms" project, organized by the University of Kent, which gathered writers willing to describe the space they were working in during the pandemic.