Sam and I

I had another birthday party to attend today. It was Charlie’s youngest son’s 34th birthday. He is a year older than me. He is autistic and still loves stuffed animals and toys for gifts. I dragged myself down to the dreaded Wal-Mart and purchased him a “Police Action Set”. It included handcuffs and he loves handcuffs for some reason so he was thrilled by the gift. He carried it around for most of the evening smelling it and thumping it with his index finger. He also loves cans of shaving cream and got quite a few wrapped in wrapping paper and tied with ribbons. I thought it was neat that the people involved would take the time to wrap those cans.

Charlie’s son also has to go see a movie every Saturday and to the mall. He hires Sandra to do this. I have known Sandra since I was a little kid as she is good friends with my mother. Sandra brought her granddaughter Samantha who I affectionately call Sam to the birthday party. Sam is eight years old and just loves me for some reason. She will not leave my side and will follow me everywhere I go.

I hadn’t had a cigarette for over two hours and was desperate. I didn’t want to smoke in front of a little kid and tried to sneak out without Sam noticing. She saw me step out Charlie’s back door and followed anyway.

I sat down on the back steps of the back door. Sam sat down next to me. It thundered loudly off in the distance.

“What makes it thunder?” Sam asked.

“Well, you see, there are these thunder gnomes,” I said. “When they get angry they stomp around their rooms really fast and disturb the air causing thunder.”

Sam laughed with glee.

“Stop being silly,” She said. “I know what causes thunder.”

“Then, why did you ask?” I said.

“I just wanted to see if you knew,” She replied.

The urge for a cigarette overcame my inhibitions. I reached into my pocket, pulled one out, put it into my mouth, and lit it. Sam watched intently as I did this. I stood up so the smoke wouldn’t disturb her.

“You know, smoking will kill you,” She said.

I took a few more puffs feeling guilty.

“Doesn’t it burn your throat?” She asked.

“No, you get used to it,” I replied. “It does burn the first few times you try it.”

“I wish you wouldn’t do it,” She said. “I don’t want you to die.”

I put out the cigarette on the pavement and put the butt in my pocket.

“I will never smoke again if you promise me you never will as well,” I said.

“Yuck, I ain’t never going to smoke,” She said.

“You promise not to?” I asked.

“I promise,” She said. “But you have to quit as well.”

I promised her I would never smoke again. I know I lied but I didn’t want to disappoint her as she so looks up to me.