CLAY
Clay was like a brother to Colvin. Clay moved to West Virginia at age ten, and he met his best friend for life. Clay’s mother was born in a small town between Charleston and Naoma, West Virginia. At the age of ten, his parents divorced. Clay didn’t understand why they had to move from Detroit, but one Saturday morning, his mother came into his room with a suitcase and told him to fit what he could into it and be outside in thirty minutes. Clay’s mother, Stella, honked the car horn and yelled, “Clay, you better be out here in five minutes.”
Clay was frantically deciding what to take. He didn’t know where he was going or why. He was thinking about his dad as he put some clothes in the suitcase. He was still at work on the assembly line at Ford Motor Company. Sometimes, he did not see his dad for an entire week. He dragged the suitcase off the bed and onto the floor, where he sat on it to close the latches. Pleased, he looked up at the bookshelf. What he loved was on that bookshelf: Lord of the Rings, The Lion, the Witch, the Wardrobe, and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.
After another five minutes, his mother yelled, “You better get out here now, Clay, or I’m coming in after you.”
He dragged the suitcase with both hands. He made it outside, and the screen door slammed behind him. He struggled to pull the suitcase down the driveway as his mother waited in the car and listened to Bob Seger sing Like A Rock on WLLZ. The car trunk was open. Clay slipped while pulling the suitcase, quickly got to his feet, and got the front of the suitcase on the front edge of the car trunk. Reaching down, he grabbed the suitcase with both hands, grunted, and slid the suitcase in. He closed the trunk and quickly got in the car. He never did see his father again.
“Mom, can we stop at McDonald’s?”
His mother, feeling guilty about suddenly leaving, said, “Sure, baby, whatever you want.” They drove away. Clay’s clothes lay scatted on the floor, and the bookshelf was nearly empty. His mother loved to tell that story for years to come. Clay and his mother moved into a trailer on the outskirts of Naoma, West Virginia. He had to walk a half mile to the bus stop during the school year. He excelled in all subjects except gym class, where he felt awkward and struggled to fit in. Many days, he arrived home with torn clothes or a bloody lip.
Even with all the struggles, Clay loved West Virginia. Unlike his home in Detroit, his new home had mountains, hills, valleys, and creeks. The forest was green and inviting to an adolescent boy. They attended the Naoma Free Will Baptist Church every Sunday except when his mother had to work. Every Sunday, there was a potluck, and he would eat all he could, especially toward the end of the month when food was in short supply at home.
One particular Sunday was no exception. The women lined the tables with plates of food: chicken, potatoes, greens, biscuits, and pies of all kinds. Clay was behind the church, closed fists at his sides. Three older boys surrounded him.
“Yankee, what are you doing here?” the tallest boy demanded. A smaller, rounder boy pushed him and called him “Yankee” again, causing the taller boy to laugh.
“Well, answer me, why are you here? He yelled, “Where are your Yankee friends?”
Clay stood motionless. Two other boys walked up to see what all the commotion was about. Clay’s heart was racing as he looked for an escape route. The two boys, both with wavy black hair, got closer. Clay assumed they were brothers.
The taller boy challenged, “What’s going on here, Daniel?”
“Never you mind. This isn’t any of your business, Colvin.”
Even though Daniel was a foot taller than him, Colvin took a step closer and retorted, “I said, what’s going on? What did this kid do to you?”
“You better mind your own business if you know what’s good for you.”
Colvin smiled, turned toward Clay, and winked, saying, “You’re right, Daniel.” He turned as if to walk away, then pushed the rounder boy and said, “This is my business,” as his fist flew and hit Daniel squarely in the nose. Daniel grabbed his nose and fell to one knee as blood dripped down his shirt. Colvin took the opportunity to kick Daniel in the stomach, causing him to fall to the ground. Knowing his limits, Colvin grabbed Clay’s arm and pulled him along as they ran. When they were in the clear, they walked closer to the adults for safety.
Colvin took a plate and handed one to Clay while saying, “My name is Colvin Miller, and this is my brother Asher. What’s your name?”
Clay took the plate and thanked him, saying, “Clay Matthews. Thank you, Colvin.” They were inseparable from that day on.
Clay grew out of his awkwardness in high school. He also grew smarter and was drawn to computers. He bought a computer kit from Radio Shack and assembled it over a long weekend. Clay now had two passions: books and computers. His mother worked long hours, saving enough to move into a small house in town. There was one thing that Clay didn’t have, money. When Colvin and Asher told him about working at the NMC mine, he was excited to join them to make a paycheck and help his mother. This was one year after high school, and he worked tirelessly to help pay some of the bills.
After one year in the mine, Colvin talked about joining the Marines. Clay thought about it and did some research. He learned that the Army had computer-related jobs, and that attracted him. He also liked the idea of the GI Bill, which would allow him to go to college after he got out. So best friends went their ways for a few years, Colvin to the Marines and Clay to the Army. Asher remained home with his mother and continued working at the mine. What was not expected was that Clay and Colvin would meet again in a far different place - Afghanistan.