by Luke Loaghan
I was in a state of complete mental suspension. Sal was at the top of the class, and was revered as a true genius. His projects in engineering were the best in the school. I never would’ve guessed that he was suicidal. He was the typical Stanton type A personality.
At lunch, I told Sam and John that Sal would be starting college in a few weeks. Sam was furious. He wondered out loud how Sal was getting all this success and attention.
“How could a guy named Sal get such a scholarship and such an opportunity?” Sam asked. “Shouldn’t he be making pizza somewhere?”
“His name is really Ignacio,” I said.
“That’s even worse than Sal,” Sam said.
John decided to play along, just to raise Sam’s ire. “The Italians have always been famous for scientific breakthroughs. Look at Copernicus, Galileo, Volta, Marconi, etc. The list goes on and on. He’s probably the descendant of one of those guys.”
Sam’s face was turning red. We had pushed the right buttons.
John continued, “Not to mention the greatness of the Roman Empire, the greatest empire of all time.”
Sam yelled expletives at the long defunct Roman Empire, and spewed an angry diatribe denouncing the “euro-centric education that had brainwashed all of us.” John and I laughed until tears came out of our eyes. Sam continued on his verbal rampage, explaining the greatness, magnitude, and contributions of the Persian Empire. He could not hear us laughing over his anger. Our insolence was making his blood boil. Next he decried the poor American education system that had somehow left out the Persian Empire in its high school curriculum. Sam was almost in tears when he cursed how we had to study Greek mythology, European history, the Roman Empire, and Julius Cesar, but none of us knew of the Persian Empire or had heard of Xerxes.
John asked, “Who’s Xerxes?” and that’s when Sam stood, composed himself, and said we were “still chimps swinging on vines.” He took a deep breath, looked at both of us, and said “I’m all that’s left of the Persian Empire. And how do I spend my time? Talking to monkeys.” Then he left.
In reality, Sam was not angry with the Roman Empire, or Italians. He was very proud if his Persian heritage, and did not like the fact that it was left out of our American history books.
“I don’t get along with Sal. He thinks I’m an idiot,” John smirked.
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“We were lab partners freshman year. I did not have the Periodic table of elements memorized. For God’s sake, it was only the first day of school.”
I looked over and saw Sal eating alone in the corner.
“Let’s fix the past,” I said to John.
“Huh?” John looked confused.
I motioned Sal over to our table with a hand gesture. John rolled his eyes. Carlos just joined us and looked perplexed. Sal walked over with his tray and sat down.
“I was just telling these guys about your good news,” I said to Sal. There was a long, awkward pause. John did not make an effort to speak to Sal. I kicked John in the shin.
“So, Sal, what will you major in?” asked John.
“Well, more than likely engineering of some sort. But it’s not really what I am most interested in.” Sal was in a good mood, perhaps the result of human contact.
“What are you interested in? If not finishing high school?” John said with a wry smile.
“I’m going to major in engineering, only because I know I can get a good job in that field. But I prefer the older sciences,” Sal said and kept eating.
“Older sciences?” I asked.
“Today we study physics, astronomy, and chemistry. But I’m more interested in metaphysics, cosmology, ontology, and alchemy,” he said and stopped eating. He looked up with a serious look on his face.
“Explanation?” I asked.
“Well, there is more out there than what the science books are explaining. I have studied the old alchemy ways, and the principles of mysticism that are centered in metaphysics.” Sal looked at us, and probably could see that we really had no idea what he was talking about.
“Okay, let me say this. I committed suicide twice….”
John interrupted, “Sorry…huh? What do you mean you committed suicide twice?
You are still here.”
“Yes, but I was legally dead for a few minutes each time. See, using alchemy,
I was able to stop my heart, and leave my body.” Sal started eating again, apparently not the least bit concerned about sounding out of this planet.
“You left your body? What does that even mean?” I asked.
Sal leaned in, and whispered, “My spirit left my body and walked around. Like astral projection. Then I came back.”
John and I looked at each other in silence. Sal kept eating. Carlos finally spoke.
“It’s not so unheard of. This sort of thing is practiced in the eastern religions, and some Native American tribes have been doing this for centuries, but it takes years of meditation to accomplish these feats.” Carlos made a hand gesture indicating that Sal was out of his mind. John rolled his eyes.
“Normally it would take years of spiritual practice, but I have designed and produced a machine that does it in seconds. Isn’t that the goal of science anyway ?”
“What did you see?” I asked, playing along.
“I saw the spirits of the deceased around me. There are several planes in the netherworld, and I did not get very far. It was a little scary,” Sal said, then started heading to class. “But it all comes back to Newtonian laws of physics. Remember – energy cannot be destroyed, but transferred. So I wondered where does the energy go when someone dies? I can explain it to you later,” he said walking away from the table.
“You mean the soul?” asked John.
“Religious beliefs call it the soul, but it’s still energy. The body produces energy, runs on energy, and one can say that the body is, in fact, energy. Electrochemical, biochemical, etc. but still energy.”
I wasn’t a big believer in metaphysics, astral projections, or even spirits. But Sal was the most scientific of students and one of the smartest kids in Stanton, and I’m sure there was much more behind his story than he was telling.
“So what did you come up with?” John asked Sal.
“It was quite an experience, an out of body experience.”
John giggled at Sal, but I was more concerned with his mental state of mind.
“Sal, what you are saying seems a little far fetched. Have you considered Achem’s razor?” I asked carefully.
“If you are wondering…if the simpler explanation is that I was delusional…the thought has crossed my mind. That’s why I did it a second time.” Sal stormed out, insulted.
The whole thing sounded ridiculous, but Sal was a genius. I wasn’t sure about an afterlife, who really knew for sure? John believed that there was an after life, because his religion tells him so, and he accused me of lacking faith. It was a bizarre conversation, but I did not place too much stock in it.
Later that week, I approached Delancey. “Are you going to lunch?” I asked her.
“No, I have to leave early. My mother and I are going away for the weekend,” she said.
“Where are you headed?”
“Miami.”
I had a feeling that I should ask her out again. My life map included a life without regrets and hesitation. “Maybe when you get back, we can hangout?” I said playing it cool. The second that the words left my lips, my heart started to pound like a drum. I could feel anxiety building in my stomach. Delancey didn’t answer. She slowly looked at me. Then she blushed, and glanced downwards. Her head and body swiveled.
“It’s no big deal,” I said. “I just thought that maybe you’d like to see the tree at Rockefeller Center or something. I’ll even buy you hot chocolate. But it’s….”
“Okay,” she said. “It’s not like this is a date or something? I mean, are you asking me out?”
“Honestly, I just want to get to know you better. Bef
ore it’s too late, that’s all.”
A warm smile slowly emerged, and her eyes shined with new energy.
“When I get back on Monday we’ll talk about it. I haven’t seen the tree yet.”
She walked away, and I was very excited. I had a smile on my face that I could not suppress if I tried.
Several days passed, and I eagerly waited for Delancey to return. Finally, she was at lunch on Monday, sporting a new tan. “How was Miami?” I asked her.
“Hot, and a lot of fun.”
I walked her out of the cafeteria, making it a point to escape Sam’s line of vision. “So how about we hang out on Thursday?” I suggested, trying to look calm although I was nervous and sweating.
“Thursday’s not good. How about Wednesday? After school?” she said.
Wednesday was my day to make dinner for my family. I hesitated, thinking about my responsibilities. “Sounds good, I’ll meet you after school at the newspaper office, and we’ll go from there.”
The solution to my problem was to make two dinners on Tuesday, and place one in the refrigerator. We’ll eat pasta and baked chicken twice this week. By the time he came home, my father was so tired, he probably wouldn’t notice anyway.
That night I couldn’t sleep so I went to the basement and practiced guitar. I kept thinking about Delancey, and couldn’t help but imagine us at Rockefeller Centre. I thought about what I would say, and what I should do, but decided just to play it by ear. When I finally did fall asleep, I had a dream about her. We were ice skating together, and holding hands. I was leading, then her hand broke from mine, and when I turned back, she was gone. That’s when I woke up.
The next day the guys noticed I was a little dressed up. I kept quiet about my plans with Delancey. However, at lunch, she walked up to me, and Sam flashed an angry glance.
“David, I’m going to be a little late this afternoon; just wait for me.” The words spilled out of her lips as she walked by. I could imagine Sam’s heartbeat pulsating a little faster, and the blood pressure rising in his veins as he glowered at me.
“You have plans with Delancey?” asked John.
I didn’t want to say too much. Actually, I did not want to say anything. John quickly glanced at Sam, and didn’t mention anything further on the subject. Sam continued to stare, like a wolf when something enters its territory. The awkward silence continued for a few moments. The last thing I needed was Sam having an emotional implosion in the cafeteria.
“You have a big problem here,” said Sam.
“What would that be?” I asked.
“Delancey is mine and she is off limits to you,” he said.
“I don’t think Delancey would agree,” said John.
“You must have a death wish,” said Sam.
“I’m not afraid of Death, and I’m not afraid of you.” I began heading to my next class.
“You know what your problem is? You lack loyalty. You don’t even know the meaning of the word. You are a back stabber!” Sam’s face was bright red.
“I’m the loyal one here. You are the one that needs to wake up. She is not interested in you and she is not yours or anyone else’s; if you knew her at all, you would know that.” I left the cafeteria agitated.
After school, I was working on the newspaper when Delancey arrived. She instantly smiled when she saw me. I smiled back, which was no small feat, since I never smile. We exited the school together and headed to the subway.
The psychic was in her store window as we passed by on Dekalb Avenue, and when she saw us together, she got a pained expression on her face. Delancey walked, and I sauntered. We discussed the upcoming holidays. It was so cold that I was shivering. Delancey seemed fine.
“I’ll be in Long Island with my mother and stepfather for the holidays, before the ski trip; what about you?” she asked. There were no false intentions or ulterior motives with Delancey. When it came to Delancey, what you saw was always what you got.
“Other than the ski trip, I’m going to try to work at the café. Earn some extra money,” I said as we boarded the F-Train.
“I haven’t heard you play the guitar since last year. Play something for me sometime,” said Delancey. The cold in my body turned to instant warmth. I loved the fact that she liked my guitar playing.
“For you, anytime.”
The train went over the Manhattan Bridge, and we both looked out the window in silence as we peered down below to the East River, and lower Manhattan’s skyline.
“The prom is going to be held at the World Trade Center, at Windows on the World,” she remarked.
Gazing at the towers, I felt that there would be no better location for a prom. We talked about school, our teachers, and I told her about my job at the café. She seemed genuinely intrigued.
“What about your family?” she asked.
“What about yours?” I asked.
“Don’t answer a question with a question.”
“Well…you already know, it’s just my father, my brother and I.”
“Yes, your mom…”
“My mother passed away when I was 11.”
“What was she like?” Delancey looked genuinely curious.
No one had ever asked me that question before. “Her name was Maria. She taught music, and vocal lessons. She was a great singer, but never really pursued it. She taught me to sing. She was really great.”
“It must be difficult.” Her expression changed to one of remorse. We were both silent, as the train entered the tunnel again. No more daylight.
“So what about your family?” I asked.
“You know my parents are divorced. I live with my father in the city during the week and with my mother and stepfather on the weekends, in Long Island.” She seemed more than okay with the arrangement, but I found it odd that she did not live full time with her mother.
“Whose decision was it that you live with your mother on the weekends?”
“Actually, it was mine. My dad needed me.” Her countenance changed again, seemingly expressing empathy for her father. Mentioning her father caused her face, gait, and overall energy to shift.
“I think you feel every strongly about your father. Is he all right?” I asked.
“He’s fine. You know, he has no one else in his life. It’s just me, and his work. He would be physically fine, and could live without me, but I worry about him. I worry he would be lonely and just work all the time. Besides, my mother has her new husband, and she is very happy.”
I thought about my own father’s happiness, and loneliness. He has me and Harry, but I wondered if that was enough. We arrived at Rockefeller Center and marveled at the monumental Christmas tree in front of us. The frigid winds whipped around in all directions, and both of us shivered in the cold. Below, several ice skaters maneuvered with style and grace, oblivious to the cold. Delancey commented on how much she liked the decorations. I noticed the resplendence of the red ribbons, green wreaths, different lights, and ornaments everywhere.
“I love New York during the holiday season. People just seem so much happier, and the whole city seems much more alive. We put our tree up two weeks ago, and I already finished my Christmas shopping. What about you, are you fully decorated?” she asked.
“The truth is we are not fully decorated. Actually, we are not decorated at all. We used to celebrate Christmas in a big way with a tree, and presents, and lots of decorations. But my mother passed away just before Christmas Eve, and we have not celebrated since.” I glanced downwards, and thought that I was probably coming across as a sad case. I did not want to give her that impression, and I immediately looked up and changed the topic.
“Look at the golden sculpture below, near the rink.” I pointed to the stunning gold statue and she smiled.
“That’s Prometheus, from Greek mythology. Do you remember what he is famous for?” she asked.
I laughed. “I am going to impress you with this one! Prometheus was famous for giving fire to the humans. He really angered the gods b
y doing this, and was severely punished. I think that he was chained and attacked by a bird.”
“Not bad, David. Not bad. But, his punishment was to have his liver eaten by a large eagle every day. A slow and painful punishment.”
“So what happened to him?” I asked.
“Eventually, a hero came along, killed the eagle, and broke the chains,” she giggled. “That’s mythology for you…a hero always comes along.” We gazed down at the grace of the ice skaters. “I’m still waiting for my hero to come along,” Delancey caught herself daydreaming. “It almost looks like the ice skaters are dancing specifically for Prometheus, like in his honor.”
“I wonder how much the sculpture is worth. You know, because of the gold? I hear its 24 carat,” I remarked casually.
“I think it’s priceless, and not because of the gold, but because of what it means to millions of people and tourists that see it every year. Could you imagine how empty Rockefeller Center would be without it?” she asked.
“You’re right, but you can’t pay the bills with sentimentality. I think it must be worth at least 10 million dollars.” We walked closer to the tree. Several large crows gathered, eating scraps off the floor.
“How about some hot chocolate? You look so cold!” I said with a smile.
Delancey’s hand reached across my face and wiped a tear from my eye. Her hand was so warm.
“That’s from the cold winds,” I said.
She smiled. “I would love some hot chocolate.”
I ordered two hot chocolates, and we sat in a nearby coffee shop and warmed up.
“I think you should bring Christmas back to your house,” Delancey suggested.
I looked at her, and kept drinking my hot chocolate.
“If it was me, I would do it. Decorate, and all. I bet it would bring cheer to your father and brother.” When she spoke I felt assured by her words.
“It’s different. YOU could do it. But, and don’t take this the wrong way, but that’s one of the advantages of being a girl and a daughter. It’s perfectly normal for you to do things like that. If I did it, I’m not sure how my father would perceive me. He’s a real tough guy, and he probably would think it’s feminine for his oldest son to decorate.”“Don’t give me that crap. You are such a sexist! You think its woman’s work.” She hit me on the shoulder.