(Please note that this is a fictional story.)
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Good morning everyone. This recording is about a boy named Marty. This is his story. Why I’m telling you this, is something that you will find out as the recording progresses but let’s start from the very beginning. I always considered Marty Walberg to be a sort of loner. He never hung out with other kids or really just anyone. He lived on my floor and although there were a ton of other kids in our apartment building, he never seemed to talk at all. The most I’d ever heard from him was when he used to pass me in the hall. He would mumble a simple hello and quietly walk past me.
Even his clothes and his general aura seemed to say; “Keep away from me.” He had light brown eyes and curly, unkempt hair. His nose was small but sharp. He was tall for his age and of African-American descent. He liked to wear simple clothes. Some days, I would see him wear a plain t-shirt and some shorts, on others maybe pants to go with those shirts. His clothes were weird too. The kid had no sense of style. Once, he wore all black together like some cheap Batman impersonator. At first, that made me think that he was a goth-ish sort of person but the very next day, he wore red with the same color black pant.
I guess I sympathized with him somewhat too. His parents weren’t exactly there for him when he needed them most. They were, in the kindest way possible, total drunkards. They would drink away all day and night. I guess that sort of thing can frighten people, especially 15 year olds. I did try to befriend him once but it didn’t work out. He was simply too involved in his own life to pay others much attention. I never thought the two of us would ever be on speaking terms, rather any terms until that day.
It was raining outside, I guess it always did here but today was no ordinary day. The rain fell hard and fast, like daggers on your skin. There was a harsh wind blowing and many feared it was yet another earthquake. The town had already been hit with so many in just the last year and a half. My own parents had been caught in the holiday traffic and I was told that I was to stay home until they got back. Everyone was on vacation, enjoying the holidays and here I was at home, supposed to be heading to Mau but instead rotting in my tiny apartment.
Oh God! I thought. I’m going to be miserable. By the way, for those of you thinking that I could have been on the internet or watching television, I couldn’t have. The electricity was out for whatever the reason. Anyway, I was bored out of my mind so I thought to take a walk in the hall outside my apartment. As I locked up our flat and strolled outside, I stopped by the Walberg flat. It was the only one occupied even during the holidays. The Walbergs’ never left the town. Anyway, I knocked on the door to see if Marty was there. I knew that his parents weren’t there because if they were, I would have probably heard their drunken slurs and songs.
Marty opened up the door, looking like his usual self. His clothes were an assortment of rainbow colors. He had small, sunglasses, oddly tinted yellow and a brown cowboy belt around his waist. The only thing different about him today was his look. He smiled at me. Yes, I know, Marty Walberg, the most serious guy in the world actually smiled at me.
‘Hi Jonah.’ He said to me.
He talked. I couldn’t believe that he actually said something to me.
‘Uh, hello Marty. Nice to see you so, uh, happy. What’s the occasion?’
‘Oh, it’s my birthday today.’ He replied.
‘Really? Well happy birthday! May I come in? I mean I know we don’t talk much…..’
‘Oh sure, come on in. No biggie.’
I walked in to his apartment. The truth was that the only reason I wanted to talk to him was that I was too bored to do anything else. His apartment turned out to be exactly what I had imagined it to be like. A combination of clothes, glasses, plates and packets of unfinished chips littered the floors. The room was unclean with filth lining the sofas and the tables.
‘Sorry about the mess. I can’t mess with any of this stuff. My parents won’t let me but you should see my room. I think you’ll like it better there.’
I followed him in to his room hesitantly. I didn’t know what to expect. I certainly wasn’t prepared for what I saw. As he spun his doorknob open, I gasped. I was rewarded to the most beautiful sight in the world. His room was neat and organized. There wasn’t much there, a simple bed, a chair and a study table for school. There were a few plant pots in one corner of the room and a fish tank on the opposite side. His room was simple but it was so neat and in order that it seemed to relax me. On the study table, a disc player sat, churning out old blues music.
The entire scene seemed surreal compared to the rest of the place. He smiled at me. For the first time I realized that I liked his smile. It was calm and collected. Today, for some reason, he seemed happy, satisfied.
‘Come over here. You’ll like this.’ He said.
I followed him to his bed. He bent down and took out a box from underneath it and waved it towards me. I took it and removed the cover. Inside, there were stencil and charcoal drawings. They were beautiful. The scenes looked so good that I can hardly find words to describe them. In one, a boy and a man sat in the middle of two halves of the world. One promoted beauty and peace. The other one showed destruction. The man was offering something to the boy.
‘A choice.’ Marty said. ‘The man is telling him that it is you who must decide which path you want to go down for every path matters. Everyone matters. Every path causes a little of peace or destruction.’
I found his words so thoughtful, so philosophical. He showed me twenty to thirty drawings. All of them had their own back stories. All of them could be interpreted in different ways. Then he showed me something he had made today. It was a set pictures of our town. Harsh rain was pouring down there but in the midst of it, a boy sat and prayed to God for it to be over. In the next photo, as he prayed, the rain seemed to lessen. As it lessened more and more people took to the streets to pray alongside the boy. The rain was then gradually reduced to nothing. It had fallen to the power of prayer and unity.
As he told me its story, I imagined the scene myself. His drawings seemed to paint such a clear picture of the scene.
‘Oh man, this is beautiful.’ I told him.
‘You like it? You can take it.’
‘No man, I can’t do that. This is yours. It doesn’t belong to me.’
‘No, my friend, it’s not mine to keep. I made this as a birthday present to myself. I prayed to God for something good to happen on my birthday for once. I thought it was this because I’ve never thought of anything like it before but it wasn’t. You are the gift that was sent down to me today. All I needed was some company. I have it. I am happy. God helped me in making a friend of you. I don’t need this. Take it.’
I hugged him. I don’t know why I did but I just did. He was such a great young boy, so full of life, so full of talent. I remembered the days I used to make fun of him for being such a loser. Those words felt like bitter pills stuck in my throat now for this young man was extraordinary. He was just simply different. He didn’t express his thoughts like normal people did. He expressed them through his creativity, his work.
So, I became his friend. We remained friends throughout high school. After that, I took his drawings and gave them to a ehemm, popular university where he got a full scholarship. Now, I’m sharing his story with you. Why? He deserves this recognition. He and all others like him. His final year in university is almost up. The two of us have started this Kickstarter project to get help to other kids like him, struggling to be recognized, to find guidance. So help us in achieving our goal, in making a difference and in helping the world become a better place. This is Jonah Reichand and Marty Walberg signing out. We hope to hear from you soon.