They had been friends since they knew what the term meant. Perhaps it was because they taught it to each other--the meaning of friendship. And as soon as they learnt it they knew it was what they were: friends.
Now on the long road out of town they were silent. But they let their friendship speak. Everyone who saw them pass by could hear it loudly.
Li walked with his head up, his bag strapped behind him like a kung fu protoge headed to a large temple somewhere to meet up with his master. But no he was only leaving in search of greener pastures. Manny walked behind him with his head slightly lowered, his bald hair resplendent in the sun.
"It'll be fine."
The passers-by could hear them say, without them saying a word.
"It'll be fine of course. I have no doubt about it."
"Sure it'll be fine. You might never come back. Ever."
"Yes, I might never come back."
"But it'll be fine, of course. You'll always be with me."
"I'll always be with you."
As they got to the edge of the river, where they were to depart they stood fixated on the same spot for minutes, not uttering a word. But if you had seen them you would have heard Manny tell Li:
"You're not going to come back are you?"
But you wouldn't have heard a response, because real friendship has no answer for departure.
But if you had seen Manny on his way back to town, you would have heard Li reply, even though no word was uttered, and he was far away by then, you could hear Manny say:
"I'm never coming back am I?"
But you wouldn't have heard a response. You would only see Manny rush inside and pack his bags as fast he could. And even if you weren't there you'd still hear him scream out loud:
"Wait for me. Wait."
But Li would never hear him. Ever.