SEA SONG – CHAPTER 1 – EVERYTHING IN ITS TIME

CHAPTER 1 – EVERYTHING IN ITS TIME

He was just a little boy with eyes the color of coffee, five going on six, but that’s not how he felt inside where no one could see….only he knew the truths about himself….the truths that were bound together where his heart met his soul…..and the sea that had existed since time immemorial…..the sea knew.

He’d been mesmerized by the sea for as far back as his young mind could remember. He could spend hours walking the shore, absent mindedly gathering sea shells, while his mind attempted to find new words to describe what he saw. He’d named the variety of colors, while handing his spiral-bound notebook to his sister. She’d smile as she played her part in their now familiar game, spelling out the descriptive words, then handing the cheap notebook back to him. And reaching for his big box of crayons, she’d help him match the colors with the words.

He could tell anyone who asked how the sea smelled, sometimes salty or fishy….or after it rained? The air was fresh, like the scent of their home after a thorough spring cleaning.

“Come on, Javier!” his brothers would plead, coaxing him to build sand castles or play tag or join in a game of hide and seek. But he’d just flash his enigmatic smile, and with resolve plop down on the sand, waiting for them to stop their begging. After years of trying, they gave up fairly quickly. And besides, there were so many of them he knew they didn’t really care if he joined in their games. They just wanted to make it easier to keep an eye on him.

As grown up as he thought he was, mama and papa would never allow him to play on the beach alone. “Javier,” his mama would say, “you’re too little; you can barely swim. Someday, I promise, someday…” But he knew someday was years in the future. Jose had been 11 before he’d ever set foot on the sandy beach by himself and he was now the oldest at 14. And his mama didn’t understand why the sea fascinated him so, shaking her head when he called it his best friend. Such a whimsical child! she thought. And children often had imaginary friends so why not the sea? she supposed, reminding herself that he’d outgrow it soon enough.

Papa had always been puzzled by Javier, even more so than his patient wife. The boy referred to himself as Javi, but his father wasn’t at all fond of nicknames. They’d carefully chosen names for all of their children and, except for Javier, they’d all accepted those names without question. But for Javier? It seemed he possessed the need to set himself apart from his siblings, not because he thought he was better than they were – if anything he had a sense of humility, a sense of self-knowledge…..but he was only five years old! Surely he was imagining those desirable traits, his father thought, brushing the fanciful notion aside like a handful of fairy dust, a nice idea but better left in the realm of fantasy.

However, he wasn’t imagining Javier’s love of music. If he could sing it rather than say it, he would. All of his children were in the choir at church at least for the time being. He was the choir director and music was akin to breathing for him. On this single thing, he and Javier were of one mind. Even if his children left music behind in adulthood no one could say that he had failed to instill the importance of it in one’s life.

He could remember the many times Javier had tried to explain to him how the sea was alive. How when he stood on the beach and sang, the endless expanse of water would harmonize with him. For Javier, it wasn’t just water splashing against the shore. It wasn’t just a place for the fish to swim. Nor simply an entity that responded to the sun and moon controlling the tides. And as usual, in his no nonsense way, he’d said, “Javier, those are excellent examples of song lyrics, but not reality.”

But Javier couldn’t grasp why his father seemed so perplexed by his explanations, his childlike descriptions; after all, the very words that the sea often whispered to him were what his father said time and time again, “Everything in its time.”

At five, he wasn’t sure he understood what those words meant, but his mama had explained to him one day that it all boiled down to one word, “Wait.” “You have to wait, Javier.” She said kneeling down so she could look into his earnest eyes, “You have to learn to be patient, for the world to come to you when you’re ready. Only God knows when you’re ready, Javier.”

And he believed in God. He believed in God’s love for him, but why should he wait for the world to come to him? What if the world got busy and forgot about him? He loved conversing with the sea. He was sure that God could be found everywhere, not just in church. The God he believed in was much bigger than that. Why would a God who created the whole world and everyone in it, all the stars in the galaxies, every single animal and plant…why would he choose to hang around only in church buildings?

No, the God he believed in, that he prayed to was found most often in the sea. He could have whole conversations with each wave that crashed against the shore. When he thought his brothers weren’t watching he’d sing to the sea, just like he’d told his papa, releasing his desires, wishes and dreams in song, hoping that the sea would somehow absorb them, and send them out into the world. If it was true that he had to wait for the world to come to him?…..well, maybe a few reminders wouldn’t hurt.

Javi (that’s how he thought of himself, one short name) lived his life on a stage of his own creation. His sister called him a daydreamer. When they were allowed, they all loved to watch TV and when it was Javi’s turn to choose? Always, always, always, pop music shows. Of course, every one of them wanted to be a pop star, the glamour, the pretty clothes, the money. They’d excitedly talk over each other about the big houses they’d live in and the foreign countries they’d travel to. Hair brushes were transformed into microphones, brooms would become guitars, empty cans would become drums. But Javi? He’d always say, “That’s me. I’m going to be right there someday.” Pointing at the screen. And he was serious! But they all chuckled. “You’re only five, Javier! How do you know that? We’ll be there before you will,” his older brothers laughed.

And maybe what they said was true; maybe they would be there before him. In fact, he hoped they might be, although secretly he didn’t think they’d have the discipline or that they’d want to do the hard work it would take to get there. But he was sure he would! Even though he wasn’t exactly sure what kind of discipline it would take or how hard that hard work would be. Like “everything in its time,” discipline and hard work were the words his papa used all the time when talking about being a grownup. For his brothers, he thought, their play acting was just a dream. For him, it was a reality. Nothing and no one would stop him.

He practiced every day as his papa hid a proud smile. His voice was still childlike, of course, but his papa had taught and listened to hundreds of singing voices in his time and he knew natural talent when he heard it. But he didn’t tell Javier that. He may be proud, but he didn’t want Javier to catch his pride, to become self-centered or arrogant. No, he would continue to train him and gently but firmly push him, when necessary. Despite Javier’s insistence that his future lay on a faraway stage, his papa was circumspect. Everything in its time, everything in its time.

What he didn’t like was the way Javier would practice what he saw on TV, not just the singing, trying to stretch his vocal cords to the limit of his five-year-old voice, but the movements as well. He’d copy the way the singer’s body moved as it swayed and gyrated to the music, caught up in every note and lyric. He’d even mimic his father’s way of directing his choir, coaxing his make believe audience to join in, to share the experience with him. He seemed to draw his energy from them, make believe though they were. As if Javier and his audience could mesh two halves, becoming one whole.

And he worried about Javier’s love of pop music, a love that he was afraid would grow into an obsession. He always listened politely to the classical music and hymns his papa and mama taught them, loving every note, every word. But in secret, he used it to weave his own songs and lyrics, not sharing that with anyone, not even his sister, his closest sibling and confidante.

In his father’s eyes, pop music was pure fluff. It had no use. And he believed it drew people away from God, away from the one truth they so desperately needed. But he was also wise enough to know that if he forbade his children, and especially Javier, from listening to it it would only draw them more and more to its decadence, so he kept his own counsel.

The years passed until one day Javier finally found himself on the beach; alone for the first time. Mama had kept her promise! On his eleventh birthday she woke him with a happy birthday kiss, then said, “What are you doing still in bed? You mustn’t keep the sea waiting!” It took him less than a minute to throw the covers back and grab the clothes he’d laid out the night before.

Usually he was in charge of watching the younger ones now that he was almost all grown up like his older brothers, but not today. Despite their clambering and begging, she was firm, “It’s Javier’s special day and this is the only thing he wanted for his birthday. You can go out later when he returns.” And before he was even out the door, they’d already found another diversion for their short attention spans.

The sea welcomed him as the waves splashed over his toes. He took a deep breath drawing in the salt sea smell and closing his eyes. It was a cloudy, but warm day and only a few others were on the beach. He ambled to the far end of the beach, waiting until he got to his destination, a huge rock that was part of a cove. Sitting down in the cove, he wrapped his gangly arms around his knees and greeted his best friend for the first time out loud and not in whispers, his habit when his brothers were around.

He’d learned long ago that you always greeted God with a thank you and he knew he had much to be grateful for. Gratitude had been instilled in him from the moment he could speak a single word. So, he thanked the sea for bringing him to this milestone in his young life. But he couldn’t hold back his impatience, his desire to make his lifelong wish come true.

So he murmured his thoughts, his questions, his prayers….nothing particularly new, but in a voice the sea had never heard before. Why couldn’t he be like the child stars he saw on TV? Not that he wanted to be an actor, but if it got his foot in the door to a career in singing he’d do almost anything to get there. But that wasn’t going to happen here, in this city by the sea. He had to get to CDMX somehow. But he kept this thoughts buried deep inside because he knew everyone would laugh at him, would tolerate what they saw as childish dreams that he would surely outgrow. And yet….

He knew one of his brothers was living in CDMX. And he knew he was trying to make a living as a singer/songwriter, although no one had actually told him this. Not even his sister, his closest confidante. He’d heard it in muted conversations between his mama and papa. He knew that his brothers and sisters had been sworn to secrecy by the way they seemed to hold their breath any time Rodrigo’s name was mentioned. He’d just left one day and never returned, although there was the occasional letter.

But Rodrigo had been 18 when he left. He’d finished school. There was nothing and no one to stop him from seeking a future wherever he desired. He’d left, just like that, but not before he’d taken Javier aside one day as they walked the beach together. “Javi,” the only one of his brothers who called him by the name he’d chosen for himself, “I want to give you something before I leave.” Leave? Why was he leaving? But Javi already knew the answer to that. Where was he going? He thought he knew the answer to that, too, but waited patiently for Rodrigo to continue.

“I want you to take this,” he said as he handed Javi a piece of paper with an address and phone number scribbled on it. “Look, I know you’re only nine, but if you ever need to get in touch with me, you can find me here.” he emphasized, jabbing a finger at the information on the paper. “Javi….don’t let them keep you here. Follow your dreams. Listen to the sea,” Javi almost gasped. Of course he knew that his siblings were aware of his obsession with the sea, but…no one had ever taken him seriously when he said the sea spoke to him. Not knowing what to say, he remained silent, hiding the precious piece of paper in a pocket until he got home.

And now he cried out to the sea in his clear, clean voice. “Is it time yet?” He giggled at his question. And the sea replied with a crash of waves to the shore, but in Javi’s mind it was the sound of future applause.

Of course, he knew the answer he longed for, but was surprised when the sea replied, “It’s time, Javi.” It is? he thought, but……”I don’t understand….” Even he knew that he couldn’t pack his bags and leave for CDMX at his age, not even with a brother to take him in. Despite his brother’s encouragement before he left, Rodrigo would just send him home and repeat the words he’d heard so many times, “You’re too young, Javier. Not yet, Javier.” And then of course he would have revealed the secret place where his brother was living. Neither of them could risk that.

He sighed. He started to question the sea again, but was shushed, as the sea proceeded to tell him of his destiny for the first time. It was everything that Javi had imagined….hoped for….and more. It was scary, too. The sea spoke of uncertainty, of fear, of times when he’d want to give up.

But the sea also reminded him of his past and his present. The words preparation, determination, persistence and work……words the sea had never mentioned before would become a mantra for young Javi. Finally, the sea was quiet again. When Javi was sure the sea was done, he murmured a simple thank you and then stood, chasing the waves, reaching for the sand and tossing it into the air with joy, his thank you becoming a shout of recurrent gratitude as he ran home. He couldn’t wait to record what the sea had told him in the journal he kept well hidden, buried under clothes and boxes in a bedroom closet.

“It’s time, Javi,” and more. Those three words were as precious as the words, “I love you.” And so time moved forward and so did Javi….using the stepping stones of preparation, determination, persistence and work longing and waiting for the day when the sea would again say, “It’s time, Javi.”