Amigo (originally posted 10/22/18)

One of my earliest sets of memories revolves around a boy I called “Amigo”. Amigo was a young boy, probably about my age, who lived with his family in the brick condos on Elston and Winona. I think my friendship with him was in passing; for all I know I knew him for a few weeks or a few days. I barely recollect being in the condo once – I can sort of recall not being able to see above the kitchen counter tops (I couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7). What stands out the most was the unusual way our brief friendship ended.

 Along the southeast side of the building, between his building and another brick building (and adjacent to the parking lot), there was a little area containing some utilities such as an air conditioner condenser. One day, we were playing in the parking lot, when somehow we discovered there were a lot of bees (or wasps) flying around between the two buildings. I watched Amigo run into the cloud of insects and start dancing around, as if to mock them. Within moments, his jubilant demeanor turned to agony as the bees began stinging him. He screamed and began waving his arms frantically around to shoo the bees, and I turned and ran home in fear. I don’t ever recall seeing him again after that. His mom, as I recall, was fairly strict. She may have banished him to the safety of the condo as a result of his little experiment.

 And after this you’d think I had learned my lesson about messing with bees. In fact, in the ensuing years, I would be stung many times, each time seemingly more painful that the last. But, hey, kids being kids. No regrets here.

 And, uh, Amigo? Whatever your name is...if you’re reading this, then…lamento haberte dejado con las abejas.