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“The first thing I’d do is run,” Simon said. “Just take off running like Forrest Gump.
“Then I’d drive a car. Go to the movies. Talk to a girl. How ‘bout you, Jacob? What’d you do if you were normal?”
“The same. But definitely the girl first.”
The two friends laughed, sharing in both understanding and longing, Simon perched atop a six foot wall within the heart of the city, Jacob’s hands nearby as his safety net. The wall was part of some artsy display of the financial district, but he and Jacob had chosen it as their hangout spot for it suited them both, Simon enjoying the high view of being above most others while his buddy got to comfortably sit on the adjoining section which was two feet shorter, Jacob spending half his time gazing up towards the towering skyscrapers above, feeling small, feeling content.
“You ready to go under the knife next week?” Jacob asked, personally knowing all too well the answer to this rhetorical question.
“You’d think after sixteen surgeries,” Simon sighed, “but just as nervous for number seventeen. You remember those old Erector sets? I can’t help but feel like one every single time. And they’re already talking about eighteen, putting pins in in a few months.”
Trying to hide the cringe, Jacob shook his head. “I feel you. Just had mine removed a couple of years ago. Damn I hate those parallel bars. Parallel bars, paralyzing pain.”
This is why they were so close, the two being able to share so much while appearing to be so different. Jacob, with his immovable tumor pressing up against his pituitary gland causing him to be seven and a half feet and still growing while little Simon and his dwarfism had him standing at a mere three feet three inches tall.
“One of these days, Simon,” Jacob assured as he gently placed a giant-sized hand against his dear friend’s tiny back while simultaneously looking up as a commercial jet flew by. “One of these days we’re both run like Forrest, get the girl like DiCaprio, fly like Cruise. One of these days.”
And with such a declaration Jacob scooped Simon up into his ginormous hands, up against his huge chest and the two headed off down the street, ignoring the gawks, finger-pointing, occasional cell phones capturing what most would never really understand.
Written for the Writer’s Unite blog page.