Who I Used to Be

by Alexa Land

  “Did you ever think about going to college?” I asked him.

  “That was never going to happen,” he said quietly. “It was miraculous that I even finished high school. By that point in my life, I was already a parent, and soon after graduation…well, you know the story. At no point was college an option.”

  “What about now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You could take classes if you wanted to,” I said.

  He shrugged and stared off into the distance. “What would be the point?”

  “You love learning. You’re the most voracious reader I’ve ever met, and you read every subject under the sun. I bet you’d enjoy being in college.”

  He said, “This isn’t about me, it’s about Elijah.” He gestured at the teen, who was a few yards ahead of us on the wide, curved path, chatting animatedly with Alastair. “I think he’s found his perfect fit.”

  Our companions started to climb the stairs of a particularly large building near the center of campus, and Alastair turned to us and called, “We’re going to pop in and give the library a look-see. If you’re bored senseless by now, there’s a coffee house just across the way there. You could forego the rest of the tour and relax a bit.”

  “Actually, I’d like to see this,” TJ said as we caught up to them.

  The library was an elegant composition of dark, polished wood, tall, leaded windows on the main floor, and shelves of books that went on seemingly forever. Students sat at long tables in the main foyer, mostly poking at laptops. I wondered if they knew how lucky they were to get to devote years of their lives to learning.

  Elijah’s eyes were as big as saucers. So were TJ’s. I told our friends, “We’re going to explore a bit, want to meet back here in a few minutes?”

  Alastair grinned as Elijah wandered into the stacks and said, “Sure. We’ll come find you if I ever get Eli back out of there.”

  TJ and I climbed the marble staircase. The subjects seemed to get more obscure, and the number of students thinned out as we ascended. We had the top floor to ourselves, and as we wandered into the stacks, TJ exclaimed, “Look at this place! I could spend years here.” He ran his fingertips carefully over the spines of the books we passed.

  “You dismissed the idea a few minutes ago, but I think you should look into taking some classes,” I said. “This is where you belong.”

  “A university like this would never be an option. Do you know how expensive it is? If I sold everything I owned, I wouldn’t even be able to pay for one semester.”

  “I know, it’s astronomical. But I meant college in general. It doesn’t have to be someplace fancy, you can learn anywhere.”

  He turned to me and asked, “What about you? Have you ever thought about college?”

  “That was the plan once,” I admitted. “My dad always wanted me to go and to make a better life for myself than he had. You know how all of that turned out. After he went to prison during my senior year of high school, life became all about survival, and college fell by the wayside.”

  “So, you should be taking classes, not me.”

  “Why not you?”

  “It’s too late for me, but you’re young. You can still make something of yourself.”

  I frowned at him and said, “Oh, come on. The value of learning doesn’t expire when you leave your twenties.”

  “No, but I’d feel stupid. I’m twice as old as every student we passed downstairs.”

  “You’re making excuses.” He looked away, and I said, “Just think about it, okay? Maybe we can take a class or two together at the community college, see if we like it.”

  “I definitely think you should do that.”

  “Not just me, both of us.”

  “There’s no point in me getting an education,” he insisted.

  “And what would getting a degree do for me?”

  “It’d open doors, provide opportunities. It would give you the chance to learn about yourself and explore your interests. That’s what you should have gotten to do in the first place, but it was taken away from you. I want to give it back. I have some savings, not a lot, but I could help you pay for a couple years at a state college. After that, we could figure out how to pay for more.”

  I watched him for a moment, then said, “I don’t get why you seem to have given up on yourself. That’s so not you! You’d never give up on me, not in terms of my recovery or in any other aspect of my life. I know that for a fact. So why would you do that to yourself?”

  TJ considered the question before saying quietly, “I’ve learned not to expect much from life. This is all I’ll ever be, just an average guy with an average job. What would be the point of taking classes or getting a degree? It won’t change who I am.”

  “That double-standard makes no sense to me.”

  “I just…I want the world for you, Zachary. You’ve had so much to deal with in life. Too much. You deserve better.”

  “And I want the same for you.”

  He pulled me into his arms and said softly, “Don’t you see? My dream already came true. I never thought I’d find someone like you, someone so kind and beautiful and loving, who actually sees something worthwhile in me.”

  I kissed him before saying, “That’s very sweet, but it’s not an either-or, me or an education. It’s not about needing a degree either, or career advancement, or any practical consideration. It’s about learning for the pure joy of it, because that’s a huge part of who you are! I watched you sitting there for hours last week poring over a book on quantum mechanics, for God’s sake! If anyone was ever meant to further his education, it’s you.”

  “I was concentrating so hard on that book because I barely understood it.”

  “You stuck with it though, all week, until you finished it. And that’s just one example. Before that, it was a book on Norse mythology, and one on the origins of the English language.”

  “Don’t sound so impressed. During that same time, I also read several romance novels, a murder mystery, a spy thriller—”

  I interrupted him by saying, “What does that prove?”

  “That I’ll read absolutely anything, so it doesn’t mean much if I happen to pick up a book on an academic subject. It certainly doesn’t mean I should be in college.”

  I took his hand and said, “We should probably go find our friends, but just so you know, I’m not going to forget about this. I think you and I should both take one class at the community college next semester. If you don’t love being in school like I think you will, then I’ll let it go. You owe it to yourself to at least give it a shot, though.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “That’s a yes.” I flashed him a big smile.

  “It’s not a yes, it’s a ‘we’ll see’.”

  “Which is as good as a yes. I’m excited about this! I’d given up on the idea of college a long time ago. My dad’s going to be so happy, too. He’s always harping on me to go back to school.”

  As we walked downstairs hand-in-hand, TJ said, “How often do you hear from him?”

  “He writes to me once a week, and I try to do the same. I couldn’t manage it at the height of my addiction, but I’ve gotten back in the habit these last few weeks.” I paused before saying, “I didn’t tell him about the heroin, or the prostitution. It would break his heart. I just let him think I flaked out and forgot to write for a while. That seemed better than telling him I was too strung out to manage so much as a note.”

  “What does he say in his letters?”

  “Not much. Every day’s pretty much the same. He tries to sound positive, even though I know he’s miserable. He doesn’t tell me when he gets in fights. I only know about that from his case manager, who I contact every couple months to find out if we’re any closer to a parole hearing.”

  “He’s doing the same thing you are, trying to shield you from the truth because he thinks it’d hurt you.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you tell him about me?”
<
br />   “Of course.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He, um…he expressed some concerns about our age difference,” I admitted.

  “In other words, he’s totally pissed off about this. He probably just thinks some old guy is taking advantage of his son.”

  “He doesn’t get it,” I said. “I tried to explain how wonderful you are for me, but since he doesn’t know I was an addict, he has no context for this. He doesn’t know how thoroughly you understand me, because we share a similar past, and he can’t understand how you helped me through withdrawal and the rest of my recovery and how much that meant to me. You and I are much more than that to each other now, but those things brought us together. They’re a part of our foundation. To him, a big piece of the puzzle is missing.”

  “I never meant to cause a conflict between you and your dad.”

  “I know, and you haven’t.” We reached the main floor and began searching for our friends as I said, “When he finally gets the chance to meet you, it’ll make sense to him.”

  “I hope so.”

  TJ looked worried. After a moment, I changed the subject slightly by saying, “I should show you his letters sometime. He has nothing but time, so he fills the page and the envelope with these amazing pencil drawings. They started out as funny little doodles, but they’ve evolved over the years into amazing works of art.”

  Alastair had come up behind us, and he asked, “What’s evolved into works of art?”

  I turned to him and said, “My dad sends me these wonderful sketches along with his letters every week. They break my heart, because he draws these detailed landscapes of mountains, and rivers, and beaches, places I know he loves and can’t visit. But they’re so beautiful, too, and nothing I’d ever expect from him. My dad’s this big, tough guy. He was a mechanic who always swore he didn’t have an artistic bone in his body. Somehow, he tapped into this part of himself in prison.” Alastair chewed his lower lip for a moment. He looked like he wanted to say something, so I asked, “What?”

  He blurted, “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I can’t keep this a secret any longer.”

  “Keep what a secret?”

  “Several weeks ago, right after you told me about your dad, I asked my lawyers to take a look at his case. They found sufficient grounds to request a retrial. Apparently, a judge has agreed. I don’t know if anything will come of it, and I’d absolutely hate it if you end up disappointed, but the retrial should happen next month, as soon as the appropriate paperwork goes through. No guarantees, mind you. But in the next couple weeks, you might get to see your dad face-to-face. My lawyers will be calling a meeting that’ll include you, because you’re a key witness for their defense. Since it’s not technically a visitation, they believe the Bureau of Prisons will sign off on it.” Alastair sighed and pushed his dark blond hair back from his forehead. “I wanted to wait until things were more concrete before telling you this. I’m going to be the world’s biggest wanker if this all unravels and I got your hopes up for nothing.”

  I was absolutely stunned, and stared at him for a long moment before grabbing him in an embrace. “I can’t thank you enough,” I whispered around the lump in my throat.

  He returned the hug. “Don’t thank me yet. As I said, nothing may come of this.”

  “But you’re trying,” I said, “and you’ve given me a glimmer of hope that my dad might get out of prison. I can’t believe you did this.”

  Alastair let go of me and said embarrassedly, “Normally, my family legacy is a bit of a burden. I know that sounds like the poor little rich boy whining about his good fortune, but it’s true. A crushing amount of responsibility comes with my name, but so do an awful lot of resources. This was an opportunity to have some good come of it for a change.”

  “I appreciate this so much, Alastair.”

  “Originally, I was just trying to figure out a way to get you in to visit your father. I didn’t expect the lawyers to propose a retrial. Apparently though, your father’s public defender made loads of mistakes, and the fact that the judge didn’t call his competence into question raised a red flag. Anyway, I don’t understand all the particulars, but that’s the gist of it.”

  “This is amazing,” I stammered.

  “We’ll see what happens. Like I said, no guarantees, but let’s all think positive, shall we? Now come on and help me drag Elijah out of here. I left him sitting on the floor in one of the aisles, reading a foot-thick book on applied mathematics. He’s an odd duck, but I like him.” Alastair grinned and headed back into the stacks.

  When we eventually extricated Elijah from the library and continued our tour, I told Alastair, “You’re overdue for family dinner with us and the Chinns.” We’d adopted that as Chance and Finn’s ‘celebrity couple’ name, and it made them both chuckle.

  “I’d love to remedy that sometime soon. I’ve been losing myself in my studies lately. I figured I should do that while I still can.”

  “While you can? You’re just in your junior year, aren’t you?”

  He nodded and said, “I’m supposed to have another year and a half in the States, but my father’s been having some health issues and I may get called back early.”

  “I’m sorry. Is it serious?”

  “I’m not sure. I think all his issues come down to stress, but that’s still a legitimate concern. He’s been having chest pains, but the doctors haven’t found any underlying heart disease, so I think he just works too damn much and doesn’t take care of himself.”

  “Well, promise me you’ll pick a night next week and join us. Chance and Finn have been asking about you.”

  “They’re very kind. Is Chance nervous about his upcoming photography show?”

  “He’s petrified, but he has no reason to be. His work is brilliant.”

  “He doesn’t believe in himself. I wanted to buy one of his photos, but he said I was just trying to be nice and gave it to me. He absolutely refused to take my money,” Alastair said. “At least with the show, the gallery owner will set a fair price, and maybe your friend will start to realize what his art is worth.”

  When we reached the dorms, Elijah wandered inside a vacant room and sat on the little twin bed. The space didn’t look like much. It was maybe nine feet by twelve with white walls, but it also had high ceilings and a big window that faced a landscaped quad. “What do you think?” Alastair asked him. “Can you see yourself here?”

  Elijah nodded. “Saithmore is perfect. The whole place is like somethin’ out of a movie. Everyone we met has been real friendly, too. I wondered how I’d fit in with a bunch of rich kids, but they just seemed like regular folks.” Alastair had introduced Elijah to several people as we wound our way around the campus.

  “Most of the students aren’t wealthy,” Alastair said, perching on a corner of the desk. “Ephraim Saithmore made his fortune late in life. He didn’t want this to be a place just for the rich, so he established all kinds of financial aid and scholarship programs when he founded the university. That tradition has carried on ever since.”

  “It’s good to know I won’t be a total alien, even though we didn’t come across anyone that sounds like me,” Elijah said.

  Alastair jumped off the desk and smiled at him. “I’ve been saving the best for last. Come on, I’m going to show you my favorite thing about Saithmore and introduce you to Rollie.”

  *****

  Rollins Boudreaux-Blanchet, better known as Rollie, reminded me of a classic absent-minded professor, though technically, he was a graduate student. He was actually a good-looking guy under the shaggy, dark hair (which was flattened down on one side, as if he’d slept on it) the thick glasses, and the inside-out T-shirt that he wore under a green Incredible Hulk hoodie. When Alastair pointed out the shirt’s condition to him, Rollie said, in a thick Louisiana accent, “I did, in fact, know that, Your Highness. I spilled somethin’ down the front of me earlier, so I flipped the shirt inside out and put it on backwards. Saved me a tr
ip home to get fancied up for your company!” He said that cheerfully as he unlocked the door to the Saithmore Observatory.

  It had taken us twenty minutes to drive to the white, domed building, which was perched at the summit of the foothills in a wooded setting. Saithmore’s main campus had felt like a different world, and this did, too. The observatory was like something out of a Jules Verne novel, an elegant, Victorian take on modern technology.

  Alastair chuckled as we walked into the building and said, “Only in your world would putting a shirt on backwards be a solution to anything, Bayou Blanchet.”

  “How many times do I have to explain this, Your Highness? New Orleans and the Bayou are two very different things.” The city name came out as one word, ‘Nawlins’. “I didn’t grow up barefoot and wrastlin’ gaters, or whatever you picture when you think of Louisiana. You need to come with me next time I go home for a visit and get yourself educated.”

  “This cultural sensitivity lecture brought to you by the fellow who thinks all Brits are members of the royal family,” Alastair said. “Also, I’ll gladly take you up on that offer any time.”

  “Not all. Just you, Your Highness.” As we entered the center of the building with its high dome and large telescope, Rollie swept his arm in a grand gesture and told us, “Gentlemen, I give you Priscilla, queen of the foothills.” Elijah graduated from awestruck to jaw-on-the-floor stunned.

  We all took turns peering through the massive telescope while Alastair and Rollie went full-on astronomy geek and gushed about what we were looking at. Then, as the three students’ conversation turned to the telescope and got mind-numbingly technical, I wandered out a set of double doors to a balcony, and my boyfriend followed me. Far below us, the lights of the Silicon Valley shimmered through the trees, looking more beautiful than I would have thought possible.

  I rested my hands on the railing, and as I leaned back against TJ, I said, “You got quiet. Everything alright?”

  “I’m fine. Just a lot to process tonight.”