CHAPTER 2 – INEVITABLE
Javi rested his head in his hands and sighed as he observed the studying he had to do for tomorrow’s test. Math was not his forte, but then again, there were few classes he enjoyed at all. In his opinion, notebooks were only good for one thing – songwriting. His schooling was a constant source of friction between him and his parents. His family was far from rich and he’d tried to convince them that if he didn’t have to go to school he could get a job and help out with daily living expenses, but they would have none of it. It was hard enough to find a decent job in Mexico and cutting your education short only made it that much harder. And besides, in the back of their minds they feared Javier would take the opportunity to take flight chasing his fanciful, starry-eyed dreams right then rather than later.
I could have been in Mexico City two years ago! was his thought as he glared down at the numerical equations he found so frustrating. But, of course, he hadn’t dared to utter even a single word about the city where he was sure all of his dreams would take shape and come true. In their minds he foolishly believed that Mexico City was the equivalent of the Land of Oz, although in the end Dorothy did return to her home in Kansas. And they clung to that hope – that he’d return to his home by the sea after realizing that Mexico City’s bright lights were only an illusion and that there really was “no place like home.”
And Javi never questioned that they were absolutely right in their assumptions that he’d take the first opportunity given to him to escape. But, he would make sure that when that day came, no one would know. The idea of him making a living two years ago at the age of 14 doing anything was unrealistic and frightening, to them. Of course he knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he as yet had no concept of how frightening it could be. In secret, he’d kept in touch with his older brother, but their letters were often few and far between. His friend, Emilio, was their confidential mail service and their post office was the alcove on the beach that formed a small, but deep cave. He saw Emilio almost every day either at school or in choir practice and they’d often share the beach calling it their dream-catcher. Emilio didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do with his future, all he knew was that, like Javi, it didn’t include remaining here. He told Javi often that the older he got, the more he felt this city closing in around him, leaving him feeling like he was suffocating. Javi didn’t have to tell him again that he understood. And then they’d joke about how Emilio could be his manager or a stage hand or maybe even one of his musicians….if he’d only get around to learning how to play an instrument!
His brother assured him he would have a place to stay, so it wasn’t like he’d be living on the streets. And, of course, he’d let his parents know once he got there so they wouldn’t worry. Or maybe he’d leave them a note, his thoughts shrugged. Either way, what did it matter? He had no clue what it was like to be a parent, that they’d worry no matter what he did or where he went if it took him away from the safety of this city by the sea.
He couldn’t focus on math, not now; he’d allowed himself to get sidetracked again by plans for the future. The sunlit spot on the floor told him that there were still a few hours of daylight left. Maybe if he took a ride along the seashore it would clear his mind or if nothing else, give him a distraction until he was forced to study later. He left the book open knowing that if he didn’t he might not find the resolve to pick up where he’d left off and also it made it look like he’d been studying all along in case his mama happened to check in on him. He found a piece of paper and scribbled, “Just went for a ride, be back soon” on it, leaving it in the middle of the book so she’d see it.
He loved his bicycle. It was a worn-looking red, his favorite color. It was his only source of transportation and allowed him the freedom to go places he would otherwise have no access to. Of course, his parents dictated his parameters, and he never went beyond them….well, almost never. But what he loved doing most of all was riding along the seashore, the waves lapping across the sand as they chased him in and out.
When he got to his destination, the alcove that doubled as a post office at the far end of the beach, he carefully parked his bike and sat down on the rock surrounding the opening. The very place that the sea had first told him, “It’s time!” Tomorrow he would turn 16 and only three of his siblings were still living at home. Perhaps that was one of the reasons they seemed to hold on so tightly to Javi. And then he’d heard the story of his birth so many times….maybe that was part of it, too.
According to his parents he almost hadn’t made it into this world alive and his mama had barely escaped that same fate. Sometimes when she looked at him it seemed like she still wasn’t sure he was truly there in front of her. Sometimes, he’d reach out to her and pat her shoulder just to reassure her. Or maybe he only imagined it. Still, he would reach out to her allowing just a glimpse of that smile, his dimples winking in and out, that never ceased to reward him with a rare smile from her. He was too old for sitting on her lap or hugs. He loved her so much, but he’d passed the age where he felt comfortable with effusive displays of affection. And as he’d grown older, his papa seemed to become more distant. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d hugged each other.
Octavio sat in the tranquility of the church sanctuary alone. It was the time of day he always looked forward to, not quite dusk when the sun hadn’t yet begun its game of playing hide and seek with the horizon. He’d made a habit of sitting here in the same pew every day, taking stock of what he’d accomplished and what he had yet to do tomorrow. It was also the only time he truly had to himself. If it wasn’t the demands of the church and its members, it was his family. And he begrudged neither of them his time, but he knew he needed time alone with God to be the pastor, husband and father he envisioned himself being. He sighed deeply, more or less at peace with the role he played in God’s magnificent plan….yet, concerned and saddened by what he saw as Javier’s growing resistance and unrest surrounding the beliefs and tenets of the Church he’d been raised in; this building was where Octavio sensed God’s presence most often, just like Javier who insisted that he found God in the sea.
He didn’t like the fact that Javier believed that God could be found in the sea. It was too close to pantheism for his liking. Although he’d never said he worshipped the sea and he attended church faithfully, seeming to enjoy the rituals and music, he’d never really seemed to embrace the God of the Christian faith. He couldn’t explain it exactly. Javier wasn’t rebellious. He was an obedient child. He sighed again, as much as he wished it were true, Javier was no longer a child. He was a young man. A young man whose philosophical curiosity and questioning tendencies made him uneasy.
He loved his children, all of them, but Javier was so different. Maybe it was because he’d narrowly escaped death at birth. Did he somehow sense how fragile life was from the very beginning? It seemed as if Javier had always had one foot out the door, on his way to somewhere he was supposed to be that had nothing to do with this small town. Like he was just biding time until his real life began. And Octavio knew that as much as Javier loved his family, his home and the sea, he would only stay here until he exerted his desire for independence and was free to go…..on his terms. And he was free to go now, but seemed to be holding back for their sake, and not because he’d had some miraculous change of heart. Of course, they’d insisted he finish school, but that didn’t mean he had to. It didn’t mean that they wouldn’t awake one morning to find him gone.
He had fervently hoped that Javier would follow in his footsteps and become a pastor, maybe not here exactly, but he wanted to believe that he’d been spared at birth to achieve something special, even extraordinary, in God’s plan. His vast knowledge and love of music could take him far in the Christian Church, using all the facets of his multiple talents to achieve God’s will for him. But he was acutely aware that Javier had no desire to use the gifts God had lavished on him within these church walls…or within any church walls. Yes, Javier had taken to heart the words Octavio had used to explain the mysterious inner workings of life, “Everything in its time.” But “everything” to Javier – what he believed was his destiny – lay “out there.”
According to Javi (even though he hated the nickname, after hearing it for so many years, sometimes it would slip into his consciousness without him noticing), his destiny lay far away most likely beginning in Mexico City. He didn’t talk about it much anymore with Octavio because he knew it upset him and that he didn’t understand. And Octavio, for his part, tried to remain neutral, or at least appear that way, but he just couldn’t believe that God had given he and his wife, devout Christians, this boy, bursting with as yet untapped potential, only to snatch him away so that he could bestow it all on “the world” and not in service to the Lord.
He’d preached so many sermons based on the verses in John 15 about being in the world, but not of the world. Even though Jesus requested that they be protected from the evil one, purposefully taking yourself out of God’s fold, the Church, was asking for a whole quagmire of troubles. Even though Javier had not come right out and said that his goal in life was to share music with the world at large via pop music, or at least he hadn’t said it directly to Octavio, he’d known since Javier was a little boy that that was what he considered fulfilling his destiny.
Why? And how was he ever going to bring anyone to faith in the one and only God within the decadence of the music industry? The way Octavio saw it, he’d be too busy trying to protect himself from the evil inherently found out there to have time to devote himself fully to any form of ministry. And yes, he knew that many thought his view of faith in Jesus was too narrow, too restrictive, but he’d preached on that too! Hadn’t Jesus himself warned about the wide gate and broad road that leads to destruction? Were Javier’s misguided choices some sort of test for them all? Forcing his mind back to the present, he glanced around him again at this place of peace where he found God and God found him. No…God may have created the sea, the fish, the shore – yes! of course! but he didn’t reside in them, a ridiculous idea! – and his presence couldn’t possibly be found there in the same way that it was here, where the troubles of the world were so often lifted from his shoulders. Bowing his head, he brought Javier’s name to his lips again praying fervently that his son would see the light before he made a huge error in judgment.
“Javi!” there it was, the voice that lifted his heart every time, taking him from this city by the sea, this beach, this alcove to a far-off stage of his own creation. The stage was never in the same city or even the same country, but it was always surrounded by people who loved his music and loved him for creating it. If math wasn’t his forte…well, he didn’t care. Geography carried him all around the world to unfamiliar and exotic places he hoped to see one day outside of pictures in a textbook. And then someday he’d return triumphant to the World Trade Center so close to the sea and maybe the sea would whisper, “Well done, Javi!” and welcome him home! And maybe by then his parents would understand how he was fulfilling his destiny by making people happy! Or in their vernacular, he’d be fulfilling God’s will. That he’d been listening to God’s voice all along. He didn’t want to believe it was only wishful thinking on his part. He wanted to make them proud of him, delighted to call him their son…..
And here was where he did his writing for the most part. He’d written more songs than he could count or remember. He never went anywhere without a small pocket notebook to jot down ideas or lyrics. Sometimes, the words came to him on the waves that crashed to the shore….and if God was in the sea and he provided the words, wasn’t that sort of a hymn? A song his parents would find acceptable? This was such a struggle, this pushing and pulling of his own desires and burgeoning beliefs on one side and on the other his desire to please his family. And yet….deep down he knew that if he had to make a choice, he would have to follow his destiny and not his parents’ idea of his destiny. He was no more meant to be a pastor or a worship leader or choir director than his papa had been meant to be a pop singer.
Sometimes he wrestled with songwriting, his mind exhausting every avenue only to arrive at a dead end. After all, he couldn’t write about what he didn’t know. He’d never been in love, not even a childish crush. The only examples he had of relationships were what he saw in his parents, his siblings, friends…..and he had written a few songs about friendship. And he tried to be attentive to the people around him, attempting to write about what he perceived that they might be feeling. He’d written lots of songs about the sea, of course, and how it spoke to him, how it revealed to him what lay ahead…and destiny, he’d written countless songs about destiny, and not just his own. He often wrote about what he thought might be someone else’s destiny. He wrote about what he saw in creation. The world was vibrant with color, overflowing with animals and plants, burning with feelings!
Yet……even though he knew the world he had yet to fully experience was not always a happy place, he couldn’t wait to grasp the future in all of its abundance! Patience was one of the virtues he hadn’t been blessed with, he chuckled to himself. He stood up and stretched, deciding to take one more walk along the shore before returning to the drudgery of homework. He’d learned to keep one eye on his bicycle while walking the shoreline, although today there were only a handful of others around.
Octavio opened his eyes, murmuring a thank you after his prayer, arising from the church pew, opening the heavy narthex door, and locking it securely behind him. Their home was only a short distance from the church and when he arrived he went in search of Javier, hoping to find him studying or practicing his scales, but his hopes were dashed when he found the note lying on the book. He didn’t like to admit it to himself, but every time he walked past Javier’s bedroom he was afraid that he’d find him gone. And was that really so unrealistic? He didn’t invite the thought; in fact, he tried to do anything but that, but he’d been thinking about that day for so long, his mind conjuring up all kinds of unpleasant scenarios of what would happen to Javier when he arrived in Mexico City….not if….not anymore, those wishful thoughts were long gone….but when.
He glanced around the room and found no evidence that he’d left for good – his clothes still hung in the cramped closet, his bed was still half-made from the morning, and his school books were scattered all over his desk. Again, whispering an automatic prayer of thanks, he headed for the door, telling Estrella, his wife he’d be back soon, not even giving her the chance to say a proper hello….or good-bye.
He didn’t have to guess where he’d find him. The sea called to him just as Mexico City did. And so he set out for the beach, but taking the roundabout way so, hopefully, Javier wouldn’t be aware of his presence. It wasn’t as easy as it used to be tackling the sand dunes, but when he spotted Javier he found a place where he was reasonably sure he couldn’t be seen. At times, it was a bit tricky to hear him as sound didn’t carry well on the dunes. But this certainly wasn’t his first trip there, he’d been following Javier here for years. And despite himself, sometimes he was actually very pleased with what he heard, especially if he was singing.
And most of the time Javier was alone on the beach by choice. It was his version of the church sanctuary, Octavio grudgingly thought. But today Javier appeared to have an audience of two. Sadly, Octavio rarely, if ever, heard him sing hymns when he found him on these outings. And not having any working knowledge of pop songs, he didn’t know if the lyrics were from a song Javier had heard on the radio or on TV. He knew he loved to write songs, so he often wondered if the lyrics he heard were of Javier’s creation.
One of the boys was his friend, Emilio. The other he didn’t recognize, could be a friend or maybe a tourist. The two sat on the sand listening and clapping to the rhythm of what Javier was singing acapella – a song about someone playing with fire? someone wanting to stop him from doing something? A song about starting over. A song about self-knowledge….knowing who he was? And it sounded like whoever wrote the lyrics was angry? determined?
Had Javier taken the words “everything in its time,” to heart so much that he was working out his destiny in this song? The lyrics marched forward, sometimes in an almost staccato fashion, as an inevitability, a certainty. Is this how Javier felt about his life now? or was it something he imagined might happen in the future? Was it even Javier’s song at all?
He watched as Javier performed for his audience of two, as they continued to clap and sway, Javi using his pretend microphone to belt out the song of determination and resolve. He had his own style as did all singers, movements that Octavio had observed when Javi sang worship songs in church….but others were from what he’d seen Javi copy from watching entertainers on TV. Either way, even at this distance, it was a compelling performance. He could feel his heart aching and breaking all at the same time. And there was also a part of him who wanted to sing those lyrics back to his son telling him that he was the one who was wrong. That what Javier felt was inevitable, that what he thought was self-knowledge? At 16, Javier had no clue what it was like to really know yourself. That in truth, Javier was the one playing with fire! And he had absolutely no idea how the world could burn him, could take everything he thought he had in him to conquer it and throw it back at him and his belief that he was unstoppable. Whether it was an original song written by Javi or not, it was obvious that something in the song resonated with him.
He tried to calm himself, but he refused to look away. Charisma, Javier had it, and Octavio hated that he planned to waste those God-given gifts on a fickle world that could destroy him. A world at constant war with itself in a battle between good and evil.
He didn’t know if Javi was as yet aware of the charisma he possessed. Shy as he could sometimes be, it seemed that every time he walked into a room others were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He had natural leadership ability and a way about him that not only influenced others but made people feel comfortable in any situation. And that smile…he could imprison every person he encountered with that smile alone. It was like watching the sun as it hit the horizon in the morning. Flickering and then suddenly bubbling and bursting over the horizon to welcome the new day. Did he know what he could do with that charisma in the Church? Did he care? Octavio already knew the answer to the second question.
What was he going to do? What were they going to do? They’d been praying since the day he was born, first that he would survive, and then that he would grow into a strong Christian man using his strengths to serve God, and yes, his weaknesses as well. All for God’s glory as was intended, his true destiny!
He heard the applause of Javi’s audience and saw him take a bow as the song ended. His friends asked for more and Javi was happy to oblige, all thought of homework gone. He invited his friends to perform with him this time, harmonizing.
Octavio carefully crept down the dunes, praying as he did. Why had today felt any different than any other day he’d secretly watched Javi perform? Because he would turn 16 tomorrow, was that it? He was wise enough to know that Javi had stayed here this long because he was torn between pleasing his parents and following what he perceived as his destiny. And he was even wise enough to know that by pressuring him to stay, he’d only push him farther away from them. But what could he offer Javier here that might entice him to stay? Or at the least to not pursue pop music as his future goal? It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of this countless times…he had…almost every day of his life, but now there seemed to be a sense of urgency.
After hearing those song lyrics? After seeing him work so hard to perfect his performance? He knew time was growing even shorter than he’d realized. He knew they were in a fight for their son’s soul, even if Javi didn’t.
As Christians, it was a fight they were very familiar with and were not without weapons. Sermon upon sermon he’d delivered about donning the full armor of God every day – the belt of truth, shoes that carried the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, the sword of the Spirit – had Javier abandoned his armor for the fake and flimsy security of the world?
It was a constant war between good and evil, just like out there where Javi wanted to be, not knowing or not believing that but for their prayers and the prayers of the Church he would be defenceless.