Strife

As in:

Because he thought it brought an added measure of dignity to his life, Fisher Baines never spoke to any one other than himself about the life-long difficulties of servicing his friendship with Alonzo Martin. The two had forged a bond when both were 8 years old and had arrived the same day, in mid-October, in a new school, in a new neighborhood, and with no other friends. They needed each other then, but less so ever since, and although Alonzo could be funny and occasionally insightful about how to play drums, do geometry homework, kiss girls, and fix car engines he always proved, to Fisher, to be discernibly more work than he was worth.

Like the time in the Rialto Theater, watching Dr. Zhivago, when he accidently lit his jacket on fire with a cigarette lighter, sending a double date up in smoke. Like the time when the homecoming game was in the balance and he fumbled a perfectly good snap for what would have been Fisher’s game-winning extra point kick. Like trying to apologize for the fumbled snap as part of a toast at Fisher’s first wedding, and only succeeding in making it appear as though Fisher could hold a grudge for years. Like the time, a few years later, when he arrived, suitcase in hand, begging Fisher and Nadia to let him stay the night, but without telling them that the sheriff’s department was in hot pursuit.

Events like these had accrued at regular intervals and they had not enriched Fisher in any way except to test his spirit and his patience for forgiveness. Now here was Alonzo’s letter from prison, gleefully announcing he’d be out by Thanksgiving, and inviting himself to dinner.

His internal strife over what to do had kept him up two nights in a row. On the third, Fisher took a simple greeting card from his drawer, wrote his message, and placed it in the mailbox.

“That’s great Al,” he’d written. “But this time you need to bring pies. Dutch apple for the grownups. Pumpkin for the kids. If you bring the scallop potato dish, I’ll kill you in front of everybody with my own two hands. warmly, Fisher.”