Jackie emboldened me. She became my best friend as a kid—probably the best friend I ever had on Earth. We started spending every day at school together. Walking to class side-by-side. Eating our wheat bread and ham sandwiches at lunch. Playing faded board games with missing pieces during after-school care.


    Eventually we got together on weekends too. I found her home phone number in the school directory my parents buried under old copies of Popular Science in the piano bench in our living room. I wrote it down, then I asked my mom if I could use the home phone with as much politeness as a second grader could muster.


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    “Okay, who are you calling?” she asked.


    “My friend Jackie.” I said. “I want to go to her house to play.”


    “Oh isn’t that lovely! Go right ahead. Hand the phone to me if her parents ask.”


    I called. Jackie answered the phone.


    “Ha’u, Pahona residence, Jackie speaking.”


    She sounded so professional. If I hadn’t known her, I would’ve thought the voice on the other end was at least a teenager.


    “Hey Jackie! It’s Andrew. Do you want to play this weekend?”


    “Yeah! Let me ask mommy.”


    I heard little footsteps as she ran across a carpeted floor. Then there was a muffled conversation.


    “Alright, she says you can come over Sunday aaaat…” She must’ve looked off at her mom for confirmation. “At two!”


    “Okay! See you!”