I don’t remember his name


I just realized how complicated it is to describe someone when you don’t have a name to put on that person’s face. It feels like a soulless memory.

I don’t remember his name, he was two years younger than me. We met when we were kids at sunday school. But at some point, in our teenage years he stopped assisting church and I got into boarding school so I lost all track of him.

I saw him again during a school break in which I was visiting home. That is the last time I saw him. A few days later he died. He drowned. His family called my dad who was the religious leader of our church at that time and they wanted him to perform some kind of a prayer asking for the recovery of his body which had not yet appeared.

My dad, my friend’s family and I went to the beach in which he drowned. We walked for a while until we reached a huge rock on which we had a better view of the whole area. My dad climbed to the top, I stayed a little behind him and the rest of the group stayed on the ground. I was there, on top of the rock looking at the beautiful clear turquoise caribbean ocean. I remember thinking of how something so beautiful is capable of killing someone. My dad offered the prayer there asking for the ocean to return the body of this kid.

In the middle of the prayer my dad did not feel he was touching the ground and felt like falling. He opened his eyes to make sure he was still standing on the rock and continued with his prayer.

I looked at the ocean and though how something as huge and powerful would change its natural currents just because my dad was commanding them in the name of God to do so. I never told anyone what I was thinking there because if I ever did, they would have told me that I am weak and would question my faith which I was trying so hard to maintain. I hid my lack of faith for almost 15 more years.

The body of the kid whose name I don’t remember never appeared.

I don’t remember his name

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