Chapter 3:

And I Might Break Down And Cry Just Like a Child

Another day I had been dreading was now here. It was mid-term day. I would get decent grades in most of my subjects; that wasn't the problem. The problem was our mid-term assignment for our Acting II class. We were supposed to perform something on our own. It was supposed to be a five-minute performance. Okay, no problem, right? Wrong! We were not allowed to portray anyone famous. In other words, we had to act the part of someone unique, but whom nobody would recognize. Most people thought this would be great, because naturally, nobody would know if they messed it up. But for me, the idea was terrifying. How could I stand up there confidently and be some little Joe Schmoe?

Grudgingly, I picked a random character out of a book I had read that I was pretty sure no one else would choose to act from. I beat Alex to the punch this time, and figured it was best to get me and my mediocrity out of the way as fast as I could. I'm a really nervous performer, although I love to do it deep down. I had decked myself out in full-costume for the part of Boo Radley in the book To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. We had to read the book as an assignment a couple years back in sophomore English.

I tried not to pay attention to Alex as he kept mouthing, "Howard! I know who you are! I know! I really know!"

When I finally took my seat, the applause from my performance died down quickly. I turned and faced him, and I found that I couldn't keep the smile off my face. As the next performer readied herself, Alex made sure I my lip-reading skills were accurate.

"Did you know what I was saying? I was saying I know the guy you played," he nodded confidently for emphasis, "You were that Boo Radley dude from that book I just read! I just finished it, 'cause we have a test on it today for mid-terms," he said.

"Good job, Alex," I said, patronizing him with a pat on the head. His hair was brown today, his natural color, I noticed. Odd. I looked him up and down a minute and was shocked to see what he wore. Just a plain red tee shirt and blue jeans. No hair-dye, no funky hat, no sunglasses. I decided not to press his appearance and instead asked him about his hesitance to take his turn.

"I'm nervous," he admitted, his voice going soft. "I'll probably wait 'til the end."

Alex's revelation thoroughly surprised me. In all our performances his was the first hand up. He was always excited to show the class what ideas he had come up with for the acting prompt we'd been given the day before, but not today for some reason.

I faced the front again as I heard the next performer up start to speak. I fidgeted in my seat a little. Now I was getting nervous for Alex. What could he be doing that would make him so nervous?

I felt bad for not fully acknowledging how much Brian had stretched himself and his ability in this performance. He knew it counted for big points. And he certainly portrayed a random character-one of his little rodent-dogs that was really hyper. He even went so far as to lick Alex, who, to his credit played along. I don't know if I could have.

True to his word, Alex went up last. I watched carefully as Alex took over the front of the room. My stomach went uneasy as he started to fidget. What was this? Alex was the calmest one in class, and here he was with nervous gestures! But we all quieted as he began to speak.

Alex ducked his head low and all the flourish of performance was gone. "Uh," he said uncertainly, "hi." Seemingly at a loss, Alex walked to one side of the room and pulled a chair to the center with some difficulty.

"Y-y-you know what?" as he asked the question, Alex was positioning the chair just how he wanted it. I noticed something else about his voice-it sounded really young. "Uh, you know what?" he repeated, more shyly. I was so awed by the innocence in his voice that I found myself mouthing the word "What?" Briefly, eye contact was made.

"M-m-my, um, my dad left. He really did. 'Cause M-mom told me that, and I always listen to her, 'cause she's my mom."

I was dumbfounded. I could not believe what I was seeing. I knew I was the first one in class to figure it out, because I knew him for the longest. Alex was portraying himself.

His voice now sounded muffled and I glanced up to see why. Immediately I knew. Alex was trying to talk around his shirt collar, which was in his mouth. After a second, he took it out and continued. "He left just, like, a couple a days. He didn't say bye to me at all, but he just went in his truck. I don't know even where."

The last minute of his performance started. The whole class was watching him now, amazed at what Alex was doing. If it had been another class, I guarantee that there would have been a lot of teasing going on, but our peers knew what a hard thing it was to portray a young child right, and in a way that's believable. Most everybody had figured out that Alex's monologue was from personal experience, which made it even more incredible that he had the guts to do it. I understood why he'd been nervous.

Broken crying caught my attention, and my head snapped up. Alex was in tears. He was sobbing big alligator tears and trying to talk through everything.

"M-m-m-mom says I'm a good boy all the time, but I don't think I am. Maybe Dad left 'cause I lied when I broked his special tool, or 'cause he didn't love me anymore, 'cause I was bad . . .One time, he called. I said, 'Are you coming back?' but he said 'No.' I want him to come back a really, really lot! I-I-I want him to come back!" Alex sat doubled over, with his hands over his face. The tears weren't an act. I sat back in my chair and stared, my heart pounding in my chest. Brown eyes that held a decade of pain met mine, and he looked away again.

Slowly, Brian rose to his feet, applauding. The rest of the class followed suit. Even the instructor joined in Alex's standing ovation. I stood as well. But stepping carefully between the desks, I came up to his hunched form and embraced him.

He and I left the room after his monologue, nodding at the teacher as we passed. Alex continued in his fight for control even away from the crowd. Rubbing his hands over his face, he tried to make his tears stop flowing. It wasn't doing very much.

"I'm so proud of you for doing that," I told him. We're like brothers, and I don't hold back around him usually. "That was really amazing."

"Yeah." Alex seemed to choke on the word. "Well, you know me, can't follow the crowd on anything." He was trying to be funny, but his voice was still thick with emotion.

"I can't believe you remembered so much about how you used to talk! All the stuttering and the way you had your shirt in your mouth that at that one part. That's how I first knew what you were doing." I was rambling. It made me uneasy to see Alex so upset. He was still trying to get a hold on everything.

"Yeah. That's been a long time coming," he admitted.

I cocked my head a bit. "What do you mean 'a long time coming?' You always talked about that to me, especially when we first met. You always said you wanted to go to my house, because it had more people than yours did and stuff like that . . ." I trailed off.

"I know. But it was never like, complete, you know? I never admitted to myself that I wanted my dad back in my life, because every time I mentioned him my mom looked like she got her feelings hurt, so I stopped. Pretty soon, I just stopped mentioning him at all. It was easier than having it eat at me all the time, you know?"

Now that he mentioned it, I remembered not hearing much about his dad after the first year we were friends. I just assumed he was really resilient and just grew to accept the new way his life was. Just him and his mom. Boy had I been wrong.

Class was dismissed then and the halls were filled with people. A lot of them stopped to congratulate Alex on his "performance." I watched as he accepted their compliments and said "thanks," but I knew deep down that he did not want praise, he wanted understanding.

When Mike walked up to Alex, I cringed. Mike was one person Alex didn't get along with. He was a senior like me. Everybody who was in class last year, me included, knew that Mike was by far the best of all of us. His talent surpassed the rest by a mile. When Alex came this year, I think Mike felt like Alex stole his thunder, so to say. Mike made it his duty to either intimidate Alex as he was going up or criticize him after a performance.

"H-h-hey Alex," Mike smirked as color flashed into Alex's face. "So, what dumb-ass gave you that idea, huh? I can't believe you pulled that shit for a mid-term! Oh my God! Your grades'll look so shitty!"

I stepped up to Mike and set my jaw. If there was one thing I could not stand it was watching someone get bullied, especially my best friend. "Michael," I said forcefully, though I had to tilt my head to meet his eyes. "Back off and leave him the hell alone!"

I'm not sure whether it was the tone in my voice or the fact that I swore that made Mike back off so quick. But it didn't stop him from giving us the finger as he passed.

"Vete a la mierda, pelotillero!" I cracked up at Alex's comment but even more at the fact that Mike had no idea it was directed at him, or that it was vulgar. Though Alex did have some Spanish blood in him I was slightly shocked at his ability to cuss in Spanish. But then I supposed that he could probably learn to cuss in any language. He'd get a kick out of it, knowing that no one else knew what it meant. It didn't stop me from elbowing him, though.

"Basta, chiquillo!"

"Hey, no fair! I don't get it!" Brian whined.

"He called you a hairy toad," Alex joked, looking apologetic. Brian looked confused as we headed towards choir.

We waited for Nicky and Kevin before we went in. And sure enough, soon, both guys came rushing toward us.

"Hey guys," Kevin greeted us. I was somewhat surprised. Generally Kev isn't so cheerful, especially not at 9 a.m. But I decided not to mess with his good mood.

"Hey Kev," I replied.

"Alex, what does vay-tay ala mee-air-da mean?" Brian asked seriously.

"Brian!" Alex admonished. "Damn it! That's cussing! Now shut your pie-hole!" He looked even more distressed than he did when he caught me cussing.

"Oh." Brian looked embarrassed at the stern look Kevin gave.

"We better get in there," I encouraged Alex, "Before Brian decides to repeat everything you said back there."

***

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