as the doorbell rang.
“The Last Supper,” he whispered dryly. He took the money he already prepared for the delivery and went to the door. An Asian teenage boy with glasses, holding two plastic bags of Styrofoam containers smiled dutifully at him.
“Jason Li?” he asked glancing at the order ticket.
“That’s right.”
“Szechuan Village. Ah, let’s see; Kung Pao chicken, jumbo walnut shrimp, lobster in garlic sauce, Mongolian beef, scallops in Szechuan sauce, and extra rice. You must be hungry.” The boy smiled.
“It’s a special meal. How much do I owe you?” Jason took the plastic bags and opened the roll of bills in his hand.
“That will be $43.55.” The boy raised his head and saw Jason staring at him curiously.
“You’re a little young to be working, aren’t you?”
“I’m 15. I’m trying to save up for the mathematics camp this summer at Chico. I need to improve my math scores so I can try to get a scholarship for college.”
“Mathematics camp?” Jason asked as he took $100 from the roll, intending to give the boy a sizable tip. “What’s that?”
“It’s a week-long camp of heavy math training; pre-calc, trig, AP math, stuff like that. Six hours a day.”
“For a week?”
“Five days. We sleep there, get meals, play sports; and on the last day we have a Mathematics Olympics.”
“How much is the camp?”
“Three hundred dollars.”
“Can’t your dad pay for that?”
“He died two years ago. My mom’s working two jobs, but she can’t afford the camp, so I’m working. I try to help her out.”
“Where does she work?”
“She’s a waitress at two restaurants. La Tapatia on Willow Pass, and Szechuan Village, just down the road.”
Jason considered the boy’s forthright expression; resolute and noble. There was an intensity about him; in his eyes shown an innocent determination. Without a father, he obviously was forced to grow up fast. . .just like Jordan.
“She gave me a choice between a used smart tablet or the camp. I’m a little weak in math, so I chose the camp.”
“Smart choice. Is your mom working now?”
“Yes, but she’s on her lunch break. She’s actually parked in front of your complex waiting for me.” The boy turned and pointed towards the gated parking area. “That beat-up Nissan!” he laughed. Jason looked out and noticed a woman sitting inside.
“What’s your name?”
“Danilo Bantilan.”
“You’re Filipino.” Danilo smiled and nodded. “Okay, Danilo, go and tell your mother I want to talk to her.” The boy suddenly took alarm. But Jason shook his head. “Don’t worry, just tell her I want to talk to her.” He put the money back into the roll. “I’ll pay you after I’ve talked with her.”
The boy smirked and left for the car. Jason left the door open but went back inside. After finding what he was looking for, he came back to the front door to see Danilo and a slim Filipina in her mid-30s, wearing the Szechuan Village over-alls skirt and nametag. She smiled at him nervously.
“Hello, Mrs. Bantilan; my name is Jason.”
“Is there something wrong with the food?” she asked.
“No, ma’am.”
“Was my son disrespectful?”
Jason was held in pause by the woman’s humble and heartfelt deference. In a society choked with a generation of self-centered, narcissistic and indifferent youth, bought and appeased by their emotionally detached parents, Jason never expected to hear such a rare and honorable question. He couldn’t help feel even more at ease in what he was about to do to himself, once they’d left.
“No, ma’am; he wasn’t. In fact, it was a pleasure talking to him.” The woman smiled and looked at her son.
“I’m trying to raise him right. It’s difficult as a single mother.”
Jason nodded with complete understanding.
“I understand he would like to go to math camp?”
“Yes, that’s why he works after school and on weekends,” she confirmed. “He needs so many things for his life: laptop, cell phone, shoes-but it’s hard because I’m the only one working.”
“I understand, ma’am.” He looked at the boy. “Here, Danilo. This is for you.” Jason handed him an envelope. “You’re going to math camp.”
“What?” He opened the envelope to find three $100 bills inside. “Oh my God!” His face lit up with bulging eyes and a wide smile. “Oh my God! Thank you!”
“No, no, Mr. Jason!” His mother interrupted. “Thank you, but you cannot do this. He needs to earn it. He needs to work hard for things.” She took the envelope from the boy’s hands and handed it back. Jason put his hands up in refusal.
“Your boy shouldn’t be working after school or on weekends. He should be enjoying his life and family.” The image of Jordan flashed before his eyes. “Because when he becomes an adult, when the world demands so much of him, he will think about the youth he left behind and regret that it’s lost.” He fought back tears threatening to surface. He took a breath and continued.
“I’m sorry for the loss of your husband, Mrs. Bantilan. I lost my parents, my brother and the uncle who raised me.”
“I’m so sorry,” she answered with regret. Jason’s tears now spilled down his cheeks.
“That’s why I’m happy to help your son.” He turned to the boy whose eyes were held downward in humble remorse. “This is for math camp, Danilo. Take it.” The boy raised his head and looked at his mother, whose eyes were now moistened by her own tears. She nodded and he slowly took the envelope.
“And this is for you, Mrs. Bantilan.” He handed her an envelope, and when she opened it, she shook her head and again handed it back.
“No, Mr. Jason! I can’t take this! Five thousand dollars!? I can’t take this from you!” He gently pushed the envelope back.
“I want you to have it.”
“But why?” She was now in tears.
“Because where I’m going, I won’t need it.” The answer seemed oddly apropos after he said it.
“Where are you going?”
I’m going to commit suicide. This was the answer that entered his mind, but never reached his lips.
“I’m going to Iran,” he lied. “I’m joining the service to fight in the Iran War. You can see I’m leaving.” He stepped out of the doorway so both could see the stacks of boxes in the living room.
“When?” Danilo asked.
“Today. I’m just waiting for the movers.” He turned away and stepped into the living room. “Wait one sec.” He returned to the door with an opened box. “Here Danilo, I believe you can use these.” He pulled out a flat box from the larger one.
“Oh my God!” the boy exhaled as he looked at the product information and photos on the box. “Look, Mom!”
“It’s the latest Apple iPad. You’ll need it for school and travel. Here’s a Sony Vaio laptop, practically new. This will last you through college.”
“Oh my God! Mom! A tablet AND a laptop! Thank you, Jason! Thank you so much!” Jason nodded and handed him another item