* * * * *
The Price of Friendship
What’s a best friend worth? You’re asking the right guy, that’s for sure. For my former best friend Joey, it was exactly $189—the price of a new pair of Kobe Bryant Slam-dunk high-tops.
It started as we were walking home from school last week. Joey was complaining his mom wouldn’t fork out two hundred bucks for a pair of Kobe Bryant Slam-dunk high-tops. Personally, I couldn’t blame her. That kind of money could be spent on something important, like a battery-powered pitching machine.
A bunch of guys I knew were standing around trading baseball cards. I’m always on the lookout for a good card, so we stopped to have a look.
There was this older kid doing all the trading. He had everything: a minor league Mark Maguire, an old Will Clark. Guys were snapping up cards left and right, but giving nothing in return.
“Got a ‘95 A-Rod I wanta trade.” I pulled some cards out of my backpack.
“Hold on boys, be with you in a moment.” The trader’s smile reminded me of a used car salesman. He even smelled oily.
The crowd dispersed and several hundred dollars worth of cards walked away. This guy had a serious collection.
“So, you’re looking to make a trade?”
“Wow, that’s a J.D. Drew hologram card. Man, I want that one, but I didn’t bring my cards,” Joey said.
“I’m not trading for cards. I’m looking for something... a little less tangible.” He handed Joey the card. “You can have it for, say, two hours.”
“Two hours, what, then give it back?” Joey looked just as confused as I was.
“No, for just two hours of your slightly used, second-hand memories. No big deal.”
“Umm, Okay. How you going to collect on that?” I was almost laughing.
“Will it hurt?” Joey started putting the card down.
The trader broke out with a big toothy laugh. We chuckled nervously with him.
“Naw, won’t hurt a bit.”
“How about two hours of math class?”
He laughed again, but it just didn't sound friendly. “Not math class, not memories you actually need. In fact, you’ll never even miss them.”
“Sounds good to me.” Joey pocketed the card.
“How about your friend? Anything you need to round out your collection?”
He did have an impressive collection, but not the one card I laid awake at night thinking about. “A Sammy Sosa rookie card.”
“I might be able to help you out, let’s see...” He dug around in his backpack.
“Here we go.” Enclosed in a protective case was the card of my dreams. “It’s signed, too.”
“Wow,” Joey gawked as I took the card and held it reverently in the palms of my hands—I could never afford this.
“How many hours for a card like that?” asked Joey.
“Maybe I could sell the memory of my little sister,” I joked, but didn’t laugh. This card was no laughing matter.
“Would it be a big deal if you forgot your little sister? She’d still be just as big a pain; you’d just forget the misery she’s put you through.”
“I don’t think so.” I had no love for my little sister, but I didn’t want to forget her, besides, if Mom found out, she'd give me one of her lectures on the importance of family.
“No sisters then, no family. Something unimportant, a memory you really don’t need.” He pushed the card towards me.
“Nick, take the card and let’s go.” Joey obviously didn’t think he could collect.
“Listen to your friend -it’s a one of a kind card.”
I slowly closed my hands round the card like I was closing a prayer book. Joey grabbed my arm and pulled me along.
“Don’t forget,” the trader called out, “all trades are final.”
"Man, I can't believe our luck." Joey smiled as he looked down at his new found treasure.
When I got home there was a strange dog roaming around the yard. He kept barking and jumping. I wasn’t normally afraid of dogs. I’d wanted one for years, but this dog had me spooked.
“Get out of here, go home!” I ordered, but he kept jumping on me as I made my way to the door.
“Nick, is that you?” Dad hollered from the kitchen. “Did you feed Max?”
Maximilian—the name I had set aside for a dog. Were my parents surprising me or…
“I swear. You never take care of that dog. Why just tonight I almost stepped in a pile of-"
I looked down at the Sosa card and for a second I thought I might faint.
The next morning, I met Joey at our usual corner.
“Well?” I asked.
“Well what?”
“The card, what did you forget?”
Joey laughed. “Oh, right. That guy was such a dingle-head.”
“Seriously, you forgot nothing?”
“Well, not that I remember anyway.” He started to laugh, then stopped. “No way. You forget something?”
“Max,” I said coldly.
“You forgot to feed Max again, classic.”
“No, I forgot him entirely; I didn’t even know I had a dog.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“Still, that card was worth it, right?”
I didn’t reply.
On the way home from school, we ran into the trader again. He was just finishing up with some kids I didn't recognize.
“Care to do some more business?” he asked with this trademark smile.
“Don’t think so,” I said.
“I’m not trading cards. I’m offering cash today.”
“Cash?” Joey suddenly stopped.
“Yep, cold hard cash, in exchange for a few insignificant memories.”
“Go on Nick, I’ll catch up.”
“Joey, let’s just go. You’re liable to forget your own name.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You already got your signed Sosa.”
I tried to make him come with me, but I knew it was a lost cause. Joey really wanted those shoes.
The next morning, Joey didn’t show up at our usual corner. It wasn’t till recess that I caught up with him. He was wearing those stupid Kobe Bryant high-tops.
“Nice shoes,” I said sarcastically.
“Thanks, they're only making 100,000 pairs.” He twirled his shoe like a fashion model. “By the way, I’m Joey. Are you new around here?”
At first I thought he was joking, then my heart sank. Even if Joey didn’t remember, I knew what he'd traded to get those shiny new sneakers—I thought I was worth more, a lot more.