You’re The Man
“You’ve come a long way, Xavier.” Tom said, deep voiced. “I’m very proud of you.”
He sounded like a father. Like a mentor. Like one of those once in a lifetime teacher types. Like Jaimie Escalante. Or Joe Clark. The kind that gives hope, and support, who helped mold diamonds out of sharp rocks.
I’d never had in my life. Never. Never ever.
And after all the time I’d spent, all the energy I’d invested, all the weekends and weekdays and minutes and hours I’d given to The Grains of Rice, the moment he said that, I nearly cried. It was as if he affirmed my reason for existing.
All the stupid poetry, all the stories, all the long-winded conversation about love and life and the pursuit of happiness, all of it never mattered to anyone except me. Which left me on my own little island out in a cold old universe. All by myself, drifting, talking to myself.
It was like that in the Valley. No one understood what I was feeling or thinking. To the point, I just stopped talking about stuff, locked it up inside, believing it was some sort of illness to think such things.
“Thanks, man.” I said, clearing my throat. “You have no idea what that means to me.” I smiled. A genuine smile. A smile I hadn’t smiled since I was 7 years old learning how to ride a bike.
He smiled, too. Put his arm on my shoulder.
“You can do so many good things with us, Xavier.” Tom said. “You’ve got a lot of talent.”
I looked up at him with student eyes. “Can you help me?” I was feeling very vulnerable. Back to a time before hurt was regular.
“That’s why I asked you to join us.” Tom said, smiling, reassuring. “I see something inside of you that I’ve never seen.”
He stood up. Changed from paternal figure to demagogue in a flash. He controlled his surroundings easily and intended to use them to enhance every single solitary word he was about to cast.
“There’s something about you, Xavier.” He talked slowly. “There’s an honesty there. A raw quality. Not ignorant, though. Actually aware. Insightful.” He turned to face the lamp in his living room. It was his spotlight. “And everyone can feel it. Everyone knows it. Everyone around you is drawn to it.”
I looked at him curiously. I had no idea what he was talking about. But I was sure, by the time he was done, I’d understand it. Because Tom was quickly becoming that Escalante / Clark for me.
He continued, “You can actually talk about anything, from Dungeons & Dragons to video-games to basketball to walking down a sidewalk chewing bubble gum, and people will listen to you. not only listen to you, they will eat up every single sentence you say!” He said with a dramatic flourish of his arms. His pace speeding up. I was smiling, along for the ride. “Not everyone has that, that presence. Not everyone has that naturally. Like you do.” He said, looking deep into my eyes. “You’re a natural born artist, Xavier. Don’t ever forget that.” Then he smiled.
It took everything I had to keep the tears from exploding out of my eyes.
I don’t know why I felt that way. Maybe because I wasn’t used to people believing in me. Maybe I wasn’t used to people thinking I was unique. Maybe I was on my male period. I had no idea.
What I did know, though, was that the tiny cold old island I inhabited all by myself, was starting to become a bit bigger. And with a few more people.
“Thanks, man.” I said.
“No.” Tom said. “Thank you.”
I owed this guy so much. He took me on trips across the country to talk like I normally would in garages. He paid for my meals, let me stay with him and Jaycie when I had nowhere else to stay, he believed in me, and he trusted me. I needed to pay him back. The only way I could.
“If there’s anything you need me to do, ever, I will do it. No questions asked.” I said. “In the show, outside of the show, in your life, in Jaycie’s life.” I looked him dead in his eyes to let him know I was serious. “Consider me your samurai.” I smirked.
He nodded. I nodded.
“Now,” He said, “Let’s go rehearse with the others.”
