Who Needs Friends

“You're kicked out of the club for a hundred years!” I had heard David Hirrell say that to me so many times. We'd start up a club and David was always president because he was the biggest and strongest kid in the neighborhood. I would say how I felt about things, and David would kick me out.

“I don't wanna be in your dumb old club anyways!” I yelled back as I ran down the street so I wouldn't be attacked by David. It didn't matter to David that I was a girl. We were all equal in his eyes.

The sun in San Francisco was warm and soothing yet the breeze was cool and refreshing as I scurried across Lincoln Way to Golden Gate Park and the Greens, as we called it. It was the summer of 1966, and I was nine years old.

The Greens was a tiny corner of the Park surrounded by busy streets. Yet it was a haven of nature, serenity and beauty plopped into the middle of the busy and chaotic city. It was my favorite hangout. I loved the Greens because there were trees to climb and plenty of areas to play in and huge eucalyptus trees that sent out a sweet scent and made one feel this was the country.

I climbed to the top of my favorite tree and settled into my perch. I could see David and the gang ambling across the street to the Greens. I couldn't miss David. He stood a whole head taller than me. He had a round face and deep-set piercing eyes. He had sandy-colored hair and a double chin and huge, muscular arms. When David walked, every part of his body jiggled and moved.

I watched Ricky, Joey, Anthony, Darrell, and Jenny follow David like little puppy dogs. I remember them as if it were just yesterday.

“Chickens!” I thought. I told myself it didn't matter if I was kicked out of the club and couldn't join in.

My thoughts were put aside for a moment as I watched with interest some guys in faded jeans with long hair and beards set up a sort of stage. I jumped down from my perch and skipped to the building site, and as I passed the gang, I couldn't resist.

“You blubber belly!” I yelled at David. I stuck my tongue out at him and stopped long enough to see David's face turn scarlet and his icy eyes pierce through me as he slowly started towards me.

“I'll get you, Mary!” he yelled.

I ran as fast as I could to where the guys hammered the wooden stage.

“What's going on?” I asked.

“The Grateful Dead are gonna be here, and it's gonna be pretty groovy.”

“That sounds scary to me!” I said. I turned around and noticed David coming towards me and ran towards home. I knew I could run faster than David. As I thought of the Grateful Dead, I pictured all these zombies walking around the Greens that were grateful to be dead. How gruesome. And the biggest and meanest kid in the neighborhood was out to kill me.

I ran up the wide marble steps of my home which was called a railroad flat because there was a long hallway with rooms on either side of it. The building where I lived must have been built at least a hundred years ago. It was old and spacious with lofty ceilings.

“Hi Mom,” I called as I breezed into the kitchen to get my pet guinea pig.

“Hi honey,” Mom answered, “What's going on?”

“Oh, nothing much. The Grateful Dead are gonna be wandering around the Greens and David Hirrell is out to kill me.”

Mom smiled and said, “That's nice.”

“Gee, what's gotten into everybody?” I thought as I picked up my guinea pig. He was a black and white furball who never talked back and was always happy to see me. I could talk to Timmy about anything, and he always seemed to understand. Today, he was my only friend in the entire world.

I took Timmy into the spacious bedroom I shared with my brother and sister. I kicked games and puzzles out of the way and made my way to the bed. Moving my stuffed animals, I carefully put Timmy down.

I consoled myself with the idea of spending the afternoon in the bedroom listening to records which I stole or borrowed from mom's record collection, holding Timmy, and staring at my beloved Beatles posters on the soft, pale green walls. I loved to caress Timmy's soft fur. I liked the little noises Timmy made, and his gentle squeaking.

I had almost forgotten my dilemma when the serenity was shattered by my dumb little brother.

“Hey, aren't you coming over to the big concert at the Greens? It's cool. You can get all the cotton candy you want there for free!”

“You mean they don't scare you?”

“Who?”

Why, the Grateful Dead!”

“Nope, I ain't scared of nothing. Whadda you talking about anyway? Come on, Mom is over there now and said to get you. They're gonna have free dinners and I want to dance with the Deadheads.”

Oh great, I thought, have dinner with the Grateful Dead, watch a bunch of zombies dance and worry about whether David would kill me.

“I don't want to go,” I said, “I'd rather stay here with Timmy.”

“What's the matter,” Michael said, “Are you scared? I'll bet you're scared of David. He's gonna get you!!!”

“I'm not scared of nothing or nobody. I'll show you,” I retorted. And with that, I picked up Timmy and headed outside. Timmy loved the outdoors. The world outside was transformed from earlier in the day by gray, billowing masses of fog blowing cool mist on my face.

The worn red wagon we used to pile inside of and whiz down steep hills also came in handy for transporting Timmy outdoors. My dumb brother followed me as if he was checking up on me. That figured. I peered around the corner to make sure no one was around. Then, gradually, with great caution, I walked across the street. Being enveloped in the fog made me feel a little safer, but not much.

When I got over to the Greens, there was so much commotion and excitement that I almost forgot to be afraid of David Hirrell or the Grateful Dead. Maybe they weren't as bad as I thought. Maybe they weren't even aliens.

The people in the park danced to rhythmic rock music. Some sang with the music and some even had their guitars. They laughed and talked and ate cotton candy and chicken. Many of the women wore loose-fitting clothing and beads of bright colors, and the guys wore faded blue jeans and t-shirts. Everyone wore their hair long; the guys often pulling it back in a ponytail. They were friendly people who shone through the fog like the rays of the sun. I saw Mom dancing. Mom waved and smiled at me, and I felt better.

Many people stopped to look at Timmy and pet him.

“He's mellow, man” a guy with a tie-dye shirt peered at me through hair that was so wild I could hardly see his face gave me the peace sign, and smiled. Can I buy him?”

I smiled back and gave the guy the peace sign. “Nope, he's not for sale.

I started to enjoy the music and the fun so much that I forgot my fears and thoughts of revenge. Then I saw him. And he saw me!

David Hirrell stomped towards me, hands on his hips, which meant he was really angry. His piercing eyes stared right at me. I turned and ran through the crowd dragging the cumbersome wagon behind. The wagon bounced and jostled awkwardly as I made my way through the crowd trying to get away from the meanest, biggest kid in the neighborhood.

When I thought I was safe for a moment, I stopped to check in the wagon and make sure Timmy was okay. Timmy was gone. The wagon was empty!

Panic-stricken, I asked the first person I saw, a tall thin guy with frizzy hair and a long beard, “Did you see a little black and white guinea pig named Timmy?” I tried to fight back tears.

“A what? No, kid, but I'll help you look.”

The next thing I knew a bunch of people looked for Timmy. Ricky, Darrell, Anthony, Michael, and Jenny saw the commotion and came over to help, while Mom looked too.

The tall guy with the frizzy hair went on stage where the people stopped playing rock and music and asked on the microphone if anyone in the crowd had seen a little black and white guinea pig named Timmy. Everyone, the alien beings, the grateful dead, Mom, and the rest of the gang searched for Timmy. They looked through the grass, underneath bushes and near every tree stump.

As I looked up from underneath a bush, I saw David again.

“Whadda you want?” I yelled, “Go ahead, try to beat me up!” I put up my fists as if I might have a chance to fight off David Hirrell. “You're big and mean, and you don't scare me a bit,” I went on as he got closer.

It was as if all the other people in the park did not exist except David and me. He got within a few feet of me, his large figure silhouetted and strange looking in the fog, and I saw that he held something.

“Here,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice, “I found Timmy.”

“Thank you,” I said trying not to lose my cool. I took Timmy from David and held him close to me.

David stared at me for a moment as if he didn't know what to say. Then he came up and patted Timmy, who was cuddled in my arms and grinned.

“Sorry to kick you out of the club. You can come back in.”

“Okay, and thanks for finding Timmy. That was super nice of you.”

I told everyone, especially the man with the frizzy hair, that Timmy was found. The good news was announced over the microphone. Everyone cheered, and the rock music began again.

David and I walked side by side to the cotton candy stand.