I was flying home
from a business
trip.

I put on 
movie 'Wonder'
to pass the time.

There was a scene
where the boy wanted
to invite his first
friend over.

His mother looked
so happy.
And so nervous.

Is everything all
right?

Nothing. I’m okay.

But I wasn’t really
in that seat
anymore.

I was back in fifth grade.

With JH.

The right side of his face had been burned.

He wore his hair long on that side.

I’d just moved to
the city.

I didn’t have many
friends yet.

JH was kind to me.

Before long, we were
best friends.

Then our little
group got bigger.

The first time we
went to his house,
his mom was
waiting at the door.

Come in, come in.

Make yourselves
comfortable.

She seemed almost
more excited 
than we were.

First came the fruit.

Then snacks.

Then something else, just
 when we thought she 
was done.

We loved going
there.

His mom made us feel
welcome. And
there were books and
toys everywhere.

JH was burned
by hot water
when he was
very little.

She told us on that
first visit.
We hadn’t asked.

We weren’t wondering
about his face.

We were wondering
what to play next.

At school, the main
teams didn’t pick us.

So we made our own.

They hadn’t counted
on JH.

He was an incredible
athlete.

Eventually, our team
beat theirs.

For a bunch of boys
nobody picked,
that felt pretty good.

We drew cartoons
together, too.

He was good at that
as well.

Now, whenever I make
a cartoon,
I think of him.

He had another
talent almost
nobody knew about.

Arm wrestling.

You have to try him.

He never showed off.
So I did a little showing off
for him.

One match
became
another.

More boys started
coming over
to talk to him.

His face stopped
being the first
thing they noticed.

They were getting
to know JH.

JH! You be
Baron Ashura!

Then you’d
better run.

Sometimes we asked
him to play the villain
from Mazinger Z.

He always joined in.

That’s how 
I remember it.
I hope it was fun
for him, too.

Back then, I thought
his mom was just
really kind.

Sure she was.

Then we grew up.

Work. Family. One busy year after another.

Years later, social
networks made old
friends easier to find.

I reconnected with
so many of the
boys from our team.

But not JH.

I kept looking.
I still couldn’t
find him.

I told myself
he probably wouldn’t
use something called
Facebook.

But really, I had no
idea where he
was—or why I
couldn’t find him.

Are you sure
you’re
all right?

Nothing. Really.
Thank you.

Watching that mother,
I finally
wondered what ours
had meant.

Maybe every plate
was her way of saying:
Please have
a good time here.
Please come again.

I’m a dad now.

I think I would have done
the same thing.

JH, I miss you.

I wish I’d told you
how much those
days meant to me.

So I made
this cartoon.

If you ever see it,
I think
you’ll know it’s us.

I hope you’ll find me
through this site.

I wish.