Rivers end boxset volume.., p.49
River's End Boxset Volume 3, page 49
The group was comprised of six other people who looked like they were all seventy if they were a day. But that was fine. She turned to Mateo. “This group meets every other Tuesday to read and discuss Shakespeare. It’s a Shakespeare Club.” She beamed. Then she scowled as he turned and stomped out. She had to run after him to catch up.
He shook her hold off. “No.” Harsh and mean, that was all he said.
She grabbed his arm harder so he couldn’t shake her loose. He’d have to hurt her first. “Mateo, I’ll stay here with you. I want to do it too. I enjoy Shakespeare, but babe, you love it. You’ve read every play and sonnet he’s ever written more than once and you can recite most of the lines. So yes, this is definitely your crowd.”
“You weren’t supposed to tell anyone. And what were you thinking? Those old folks won’t feel comfortable or glad to welcome a former fucking criminal with a neck tattoo? You think they’ll just scoot over and let me join their little gathering? Think. Think about it, Rose. I don’t belong here in their eyes. And they’re right.”
Desperate to stop him from leaving, she grabbed him but he shook her off again. “Mateo. You’re so wrong. Of course, they will want you. You know more about what they’re reading than they do. You love it. And no one knows that. No one knows Shakespeare is your secret passion and they should. You could have been a theatrical, drama/band geek. But no one noticed your talent and skills. Except me. I noticed them and I want to do this with you. Fuck everyone else. They’ll welcome you when they see what you know and how brilliant you are. Your tattoo and your record won’t matter once they know you. I mean it, Mateo, trust me. Let someone else see you as I see you. They will. I promise.”
He didn’t trust or believe her. He was angry and in a rage. Almost. However, her words wore down his resistance. He had a hard time opposing her. She took his hand and pulled him back inside. When they entered, they were greeted by the shuffling of seats, big, incredulous eyes, and fleeting glimpses that darted away as soon as they were observed. People even audibly gulped. It was the exact reaction Mateo predicted.
“May we help you?”
“Yes. This is the Shakespeare Club, isn’t it? I saw your advertisement for recruiting new members in The Valley Gazette. I called and talked to someone named Annette.”
“Y—Yes, that is correct. You did.” They tilted their heads. Rose wondered what they were thinking? Judging by their suspicious glances, they had no idea what to say to the newcomers.
“Good. We came to the right spot then.” Rose smiled pleasantly and took a seat, pulling out the seat next her as she glanced at Mateo. He scowled at her as he observed the appalled faces around the room. Uncomfortable about himself, not to mention Rose and the collection of adherents to Shakespeare, he looked every bit as scary and intimidating as they all assumed. What they failed to see was how much they intimidated him. He flopped down on the chair, his obvious discomfort undeniable. Crossing his arms over his chest, he couldn’t hide his glaring anger at Rose. His long legs stretched out before him, and he slouched as he scowled, appearing like the quintessential ex-con, someone who didn’t care about anything or anyone.
She kicked his shin and he scowled harder at her, sinking further into the role.
Throats cleared and the seat shuffling continued. Rose glanced around at the pleasant, prissy and pristine people who were the opposite of him. Placing her book on the table and her paper tablet beside it, the perfect student as always, she said, “I believe you guys were reading ‘Hamlet’? Is that right?”
Mateo pushed away the copy Rose gave him.
The group nodded in unison. One lady, a spry woman of the group, perhaps in her fifties, nodded. “Um, yes. We like to go around and take turns reading the lines of the play. Would either of you like to go first?”
“Sure.” Rose smiled, although it was strained. She was more than aware of the stony effect Mateo’s mean expression and scary appearance provided as he sat beside her. She read the part they indicated. Naturally it went to Mateo next, who didn’t open the book. He just slouched and sprawled, giving Rose a death stare. She gulped hard as she realized she made a huge mistake and said, “Mateo? Y-Y-You’re next.”
He stared at her and his eyes sparked with hot fire. She remembered the dark depths and the bottomless ebony that made her think he had no soul. Now it made her skin prickle. Was it really such a terrible mistake? Mateo ignored the book. He didn’t look around or seem to care about anything but kept staring right at Rose for a full minute. People began to cough and mumble until… He opened his mouth and started to recite his part. From memory. The next line was where he started from, voicing the words with clear, accurate perfection. He read from memory the same number of lines Rose read from the text. Starting with the long section as Hamlet, from Act 3, Scene 1:
To be, or not to be-that is the question:
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing them…
And on he read. It was far more than she could have ever memorized.
Big-eyed, Rose stared at him in shock. Of all the things he’d ever done to astound her, this was the most astounding. The rest of the group fell silent. They too were stunned and awed by Mateo. Submission to the moment and silence followed.
The first lady who spoke to them gulped. “You… you memorized the entire play?”
Mateo didn’t blink, gulp or flinch but simply nodded. His scowl was still in place also.
Oh. Oh, my. Even Rose had underestimated him. The lady nodded and said, “Well, that’s very good. This will be easy for you.” She glanced briefly at the startled, unsure, big-eyed man sitting beside Mateo. “You’re up next, sir.”
The man seemed stupefied by her address. “Oh? Oh, right. Yes. Umm… and where would that be?”
Mateo rolled his eyes, leaning forward and plopping his finger onto the man’s book to show him where he left off. The old guy looked like an idiot for not following and Mateo simply ignored everybody else as though he were not so gifted or unexpected.
It was a stunning and satisfying moment. The most revealing moment Rose ever witnessed in all of her schooling and even her life. Mateo was simply… wow.
After that first recital, no one questioned Mateo. Everyone read the lines if they wanted to before they began an analysis. There were some interesting takes on it. Then, the woman who was named Deborah, asked Mateo, “Tell me… what do you think?”
Startled, Mateo lifted his eyes and his scowl finally departed now that the older, white woman sought his opinion. He blinked once, then twice. Mateo seemed to have the ability to look inside a person’s soul and Rose was sure that was how poor Deborah felt. Rose could have kissed her for asking Mateo his opinion.
“Well, obviously Hamlet is one of the most tragically conflicted characters on the stage ever created…” Mateo not only could recite every word he read, but could also analyze and critique it.
Rose blinked her tears away. The moment was so touching to her. Her boyfriend was evolving… he was becoming all the things she loved, which she found endearing and amazing. Spending his entire life without anyone to notice, nurture or even care about his obvious gifts filled her heart and her eyes with tears. She buried her face into the text so Mateo didn’t realize she was crying. She imagined the little boy that no one perceived or realized was a fucking genius. He never had a mentor or someone he loved to celebrate and cultivate his skills. No one ever asked Mateo, what do you think?
No one taught him to believe he was worthy of doing more than stealing cars for his dad’s business.
Although Rose revered her dad and Iris and found them smart and wonderful with mechanical things, Mateo’s mind needed more. His goddamned brilliance needed to be promoted. He knew he was smarter than average people but he never shared it with anyone because he didn’t know how to.
Yet, he exhibited his genius all his life by reading to escape his mental and physical confinement.
Rose fisted her hand as she realized she fell in love with the most brilliant, interesting, broken man she could ever imagine. And she loved him fiercely. He was all hers now. She vowed to take better care of him. She’d never underestimate him again and would find new ways to foster his flair for knowledge and expertise. Someday, the whole fucking world would know all about Mateo Alvarez. Her boyfriend. Her heart. Her love.
But for now, she could only blink her tears away. Caught in his gaze, which was much less contentious now that the group so fully embraced him, he gave her a small smile. Rose smiled back but hers was large, and brimming with unconditional love.
CHAPTER 12
ROSE TOOK HIM TO a freaking Shakespeare Club. Who did things like that? Who even knew about them? Who else ever cared enough to do any of the things she did?
Just Rose. Who else would dare to subject the half dozen retirees, who were trying to enjoy their primary reason to keep busy and socialize, with him? The faces they had when they’d first beheld him. Appalled. Discreetly staring and looking away the moment his glance caught theirs. Skittering gazes, fisting hands, fluttering fingers and one woman even clenched her purse. The poor things. All of the bald, gray- or white-haired club members were initially terrified of him.
Rose did not fully appreciate how real their fear was. His simple presence put everyone on edge. Rose only saw Mateo’s discomfort and knew he was feeling stupid. She didn’t seem to notice theirs. And his attitude made him look meaner and tougher than he’d ever been. The indifferent attitude was one he often displayed to Rose when he felt out of his league and unsure with her. But now, Rose seemed to forget about it, or perhaps she didn’t see it in him anymore?
He was puzzled and confused by Rose. Who else would drag him to a thing like that and expect everyone in attendance to accept him?
Oh, yeah… Rose. Only Rose. She was the embodiment of everything and everyone Mateo lacked all of his life rolled up into one.
She nurtured, cared, supported and fussed about him and his well-being, something his mother had neglected to do.
Rose became his champion, supporter, fixer and encourager like a father might be, or maybe an older brother. She was his friend, confidant and the only person he finally felt comfortable with. She was his playmate too and she allowed him to frolic with her as much as he liked. Rose became truly everything and everyone to Mateo’s sad, lonely, violent, and kind of miserable existence.
When he came to River’s End, it was no longer violent, sad and miserable, just lonely, quiet and isolated. As always, he was universally distrusted.
But not by Rose. Not anymore.
They left and she beamed at him as she gushed, “You do realize that you have a photographic memory? No one can memorize entire plays and recite them from exactly where another reader randomly ends. And then you counted how many lines I read and you read the exact same amount. Mateo. Oh, my God, you’re…”
“Brilliant?” he supplied at all her oohing and ahhing. And his sarcastic tone and hurried annoyance were all a show. Goddamn if it didn’t feel nice that someone finally knew. He didn’t need any accolades or gold star awards for it, not even a decent GPA from school as proof. It felt nice that someone fully realized his talents and Rose witnessed them often. Yeah, he was pretty fucking exceptional.
“Brilliant. Amazing. Unbelievable. You are an unsung and complete genius.”
He grabbed her when they were about to get into the car. They shivered as the snow fell around them. But still, he held her. She easily slid into his embrace, despite their jackets and hats and gloves. “Thank you,” he said quietly, barely whispering into her ear. Not for the birthday gift but for every other damn thing she did for him. He blinked and his eyes prickled, almost like hot tears were filling them. But he blinked again harder to prevent such stupid sentiments from becoming visible.
Rose didn’t. When he glanced down, tears streaked her face. He wiped them off. “Get in the car before you freeze to death.” His tone was gruff, but his heart was melting.
Once inside her car, they both warmed up quickly. They always drove Rose’s car because of its strong heater and general reliability. Mateo never minded driving his finicky vehicle since he knew how to fix it, anywhere and anytime. Rose didn’t want to take any chances that evening in three-degree temperatures and a snow storm. Blizzards happened without warning around there. One thing Mateo wasn’t used to were the cold winters here.
Tucked in beside the heater, she sniffed. “No one caught it, did they? The power of your beautiful brain?”
“Nope.” He shrugged, staring hard at the road through the snow, ice and compacted drifts that obscured the streets.
“They’re just oblivious. Anyone working with you should have noticed it.”
“My family strove to do the opposite. No one gave a shit about my schooling or did anything to encourage it. I didn’t do my school work, Rose. I just skated through. I didn’t want to make myself a target for resentment.”
“You still should have been noticed by an educator. So what if your family wasn’t traditional? And your mom and dad weren’t doting on you at home with their two point five kids and a picket fence? You should have been noticed. Your brilliance is rare, and I’ve never seen it before. I’ve had enough education to see the huge biases in our public education system. And unfortunately, you were completely ignored by it. People assumed you were one thing and that stopped them from ever considering that you could be special and rare.”
“Rosie, I purposely bombed the state testing every time they were given out. I hated them. They insulted me. So I picked the wrong answers. That’s how contrary I liked to be.”
“You were just bored. Mateo, it wasn’t even your fault. You were probably too exceptional for even their damn gifted or high-achieving programs. And your negative attitude shouldn’t have been a disqualifier. Someone with a good educational background should have noticed what I witnessed and a long time ago.”
She crossed her arms over her chest as if her last comment was final. He was silent for a few miles, then asked her, “Why the tears?”
“It breaks my heart that no one knew what a genius you are, and yet, even as a little kid you knew it, and still, no one noticed. You learned to hide and downplay it. You were just taken advantage of and cheated out of a life and that’s what hurts my heart.”
He smiled to himself. “So you’re going to fix it?”
“Yes. I am. I love your heart. Your brain. You.” She sighed. “I just don’t know exactly how to go about it yet.”
“I know of a few ways you could show it,” he replied, resorting to his usual innuendo and the one subject he could respond to and communicate about: sex.
He squirmed in his seat and aimed a glance at the dark, snowy world. It seemed to symbolize how he felt as a kid. So smart that everything was easy for him to do, he was craving attention, dying for someone to notice his quick learning aptitude. Someone to foster it. To make something, anything, harder or more interesting for him.
Having everything so easy bored him to death. He hated to be bored by anything. But despite his brain power, he didn’t have the emotional maturity to handle his genius. He knew how different he was, but didn’t know what to do about it. He longed to find somewhere to fit in. Everything he was and felt and wanted were the polar opposite of everyone he knew.
Until Rose came along.
He glanced at her. She changed everything and became everything to him. What could she possibly receive of value from him?
“Would you go back to the Shakespeare Club?”
“Maybe. It was kind of fun reciting the lines to their old faces and watching their eyes bug out with shock and disbelief. Maybe I would just for the fun of it.”
“Mateo. I don’t believe you. You liked it; I know you did. You love Shakespeare. You liked discussing it and hearing the takes the others got from the material. I saw it. The flash in your eyes, the way you replied to the others who spoke. You even nodded your head a few times in agreement. Even if you didn’t elaborate the first time, you will. After you feel more comfortable. So don’t bullshit me.”
He did love Shakespeare. He first read it in middle school and then began to devour every play and sonnet during high school. Alone, of course. He borrowed the books from the library. He also had one textbook he stole from an English class. Buying ebook versions when he was older and could afford them, he read the plays and sonnets again and again, just for pleasure.
“Mateo?”
“Fine. Yeah. I love Shakespeare.”
“Tell me about it. How does Shakespeare speak to you? Why do you love him? Explain it.”
He gritted his teeth and scowled but finally sighed and said, “The words are musical. And they speak to all people. His plays are ancient and use old English, yet they are still relevant and lyrical. His words and thoughts are parts of a song. It made me feel smug and shitty happy to be smarter than the rest of my classmates. Like it was a secret I shared with Shakespeare.”
She nodded. “Thank you. That’s what I guessed. But thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that. You must realize you’re starting to trust me.”
“I trust you.”
“Sure you do. But I’m not talking about cheating on you. I mean, trusting your heart and soul to me. Your brain. Telling me your likes and dislikes, your thoughts and feelings. No, you haven’t really trusted me with the real you, Mateo. It’s so engrained in you to be suspicious and distrust everyone. I saw that from the start. But with enough time and effort, you’ll get through it and there are no words I could say to prove it. Only actions. Consistently predictable and reliable actions. But you will grow to trust me.”
“What do you mean? You sound like I’m a house plant that you’re trying to keep alive.”
“You kind of are. Yes. And the metaphors of water and plant food become my trust and love… but I know you get it.” She grinned, knowing how cringe-worthy that was.
