The Boy With The Elevator Key.
It was at the end of 2005, somewhere during the first semester of 6th grade, when the new kid showed up in my Social Studies class. He was a short, red-headed boy, with a personality that could win over people like Simon Cowell, and Chef Ramsay, in like 0.02 seconds. He walked in late like it was all part of the plan, and then after being introduced by the teacher, gave a goofy wave and said, “Howdy, y’all”, in a way that made the whole classroom light up.
My best friend at the time, sat next to me, and lucky for us, the teacher seated Randy right in front of her. The three of us actually ended up having a few classes together that year, and we became good friends over group science projects, and social studies presentations. I developed a crush on Randy, but in my defense so did almost every other girl. He’s just one of those guys you can’t help but love. He totally knew that I liked him, but he was good enough to never embarrass me about it, nor lead me on, and so our friendship continued on, un-wavered.
It was actually quite a while after he first appeared in that 6th grade Social Studies room, when I realized there was a lot about Randy that I had overlooked. After lunch one day, I realized that Randy disappeared, and after a quick look around the hallway, I noticed him walking past the main staircase, and towards the back corner of the building. Had he always gone that way? I ran after him, and he rolled his eyes at what was probably a ridiculous scene of me waving my arms around, and awkwardly running down the marble hallway, screaming his name. I walked with him, still not 100% sure on where we were going, but he always seemed to make it to class on time so I figured I would be alright.
When we stopped in front of the elevator, and he pulled a small key from his pocket, I was confused. Only kids in wheelchairs, or with other disabilities, had keys to the elevator. We walked into the elevator, and he started laughing at me because I looked so puzzled. He explained to me that he had trouble breathing, as the elevator took us up to the fourth floor. I just chalked it up to something like Asthma. For the rest of the year, after lunch, I would walk with him to the elevator. We eventually found out that I was not allowed to be on the elevator, so I would leave him at the door, and run up the stairs yelling, “I’ll race you to the top!”. By the time I would make it to the fourth floor, he would be standing there, twirling the key around his finger, and saying “What took you so long?”.
One time, while walking back to our classroom, we were goofing around, and he jokingly shoved me. So I shoved him back. He made a big show of it, throwing himself into the wall that was lined with lockers. It made a loud crashing sound, which caught the attention of the classroom full of kids, that we were right in front of. I ran out of their view, completely embarrassed. Randy thought it was the funniest thing.
By the end of 8th grade, his condition started to worsen, and I, along with everyone else, learned the true severity of his disease. What he had let me believe was Asthma, was actually something much worse. Cystic Fibrosis. He began missing school, due to being hospitalized, and during the last couple months of 8th grade, our only information about his status was through one of our friends, his girlfriend at the time.
It wasn’t until the middle of our freshman year of high school, when Randy finally got to come home, after some time in one of the bigger hospitals in Denver. He was doing great, it seemed like nothing had even slightly phased him. He was skateboarding, and making everyone he talked to laugh, as per usual. Things seemed just like normal for a short while. Then he disappeared again. When he reappeared, closer to the end of the school year, there was only one thing different. He was still the same goofy, lovable kid, but now he had to lug around an oxygen tank with him. That changed nothing for the rest of us, we were just happy to have our friend back again. You almost couldn’t even notice the oxygen tubing, over that happy, and extremely positive personality.
He ended up back in Denver that summer, but this time it was different. Word was out, Randy had made it to the top of the UNOS list, and they were preparing him for a Bilateral Lung Transplant. Being that it was summer, I was all the way out in Washington, so I wasn’t getting as much information as everyone else. I had no idea about any of the details, but at least it was happening.
I believe it was towards the end of August, just before our Sophomore year, when the news came that the transplant had been a success! Everyone was thrilled, and his best friends began getting happy text messages form him, saying he couldn’t wait to get home.
September 18, 2009, almost half of the students of our high school walked the halls in tears. I was sent to work on my math worksheet in the teachers lounge, where I could have some privacy, and space, because I wouldn’t stop crying in class. Some people didn’t even bother to show up to school. Randy’s new lungs had rejected his body, and our dear friend had gone to some skateboarding palace in heaven.
