Inside his parents house, the man finds someone waiting for him. It is Ivan Santana, who is very tall, tall enough that the man feels his perspective shift; the man is not accustomed to being around people his height, not that he is gigantic. But the man recognizes Ivan, and the shift in perspective is familiar. The two went to different area high schools, but they had met before on multiple occasions.
“I hope you don’t mind that I came here.” Ivan says graciously, almost bowing to the man who feels embarrassed by the respect. The man suggests that they sit. “I asked someone at the library where you lived. I heard you graduated and I wanted to talk to you before I never got the chance to see you again.”
Ivan and the man had worked on a research project for the local library that also curated an exhibit at the local natural history museum. The library assisted with an exhibition of native Mexican art and its mystic symbology. Ivan gave a presentation at the library on the day the exhibit opened and he told everyone about his grandfather, Don Luis Manuel Santana Nieto, who had supposedly talked to the spirit of the Earth and was asked to be its guardian. Santana Nieto is known locally as a staunch supporter of conservation efforts and even composts for his neighborhood. Ivan explained that it was possible that his grandfather was mistaken, maybe he’d had a very vivid dream, but Santana Nieto does not get defensive in the face of incredulity. Ivan explained that, “My grandfather says either way, he is doing a good thing; if he was just dreaming, at least the planet is better off for it.”
The man likes Ivan, his family history is interesting and he’d enjoyed the old pictures of Ivan’s grandparents; the pictures were old and like relics from the eighties with orange-red tint across them all, and the overly stylized clothes and hairdos that seemed to define the decade. But the two had never talked outside of the library before. Their friendship existed amidst the walls of books at the public library that the man used as his office, always holding meetings there for school projects or club activities.
“I wanted to ask you a long time ago…” Ivan says, sounding nervous and wringing his hands, which makes the man nervous, on alert for something awkward. The man had heard rumors that Ivan was gay, which the man found very hard to believe given Ivan’s appearance. Not only was he tall, but he was obviously strong and the man imagined that if the two were to have a disagreement that they settled with a fight, that Ivan could easily beat the man senseless, or beat him like a pinata to use the thematic metaphor. The man has no problem with Ivan’s sexuality, he only hopes that he will not have to let Ivan down by declining whatever proposal he was working up to. The man almost interrupts Ivan, he would have said that Ivan was a nice guy and he was interesting and smart but he has never even entertained the idea of romantic involvement with another man; but Ivan continues before the man can embarrass himself:
“I saw you in the library one day,” Ivan starts, “a couple weeks after the exhibit we did, and everyone else had left for lunch but you stayed behind to shelve some books. I had to run back in because a guy had left his coat on a table and I grabbed it for him. I thought I heard something, so I went to the back office and I watched you, I didn’t let you know I was there. I wasn’t being creepy or anything, I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing and I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
That day in the library, the man had broken a cardinal rule: Never let anyone see your gift. It was his mother’s rule because she was afraid of what would happen to him if anyone ever found out that he was capable of making things from his imagination into real things. Just by thinking about anything, any person, the man could create a copy in real life that anyone could interact with before the thing disappeared. His father called it a trick because nothing the man made was permanent and his father was mostly frustrated when the man, as a young child, would create the best presents for him that would only disappear after about fifteen minutes. His mother seemed to only ever enjoy when the man, as a child, created nice things for her, like clothes that she could wear for long enough to forget that her family barely earned enough to pay the property taxes every year for their home and the land where it sat. His mother truly appreciated the distraction, as did his sister, who learned how to ride a horse in fifteen minute increments on the black horse the man created for her in their backyard. His sister also liked it when the man put on a show for her; she would have him populate their backyard with the scenes and action from books they both enjoyed. It took considerable concentration for the man to bring multiple things to life from his imagination, but he got better at it over the years, though he always felt that his creations were poor simulacrums of real life. When he created things, he could see the shortcoming in his own imagination and it was obvious, at least to him, that he had only created things as well as he was aware of the components of the things that comprised his creation. Over the years of creating poor replicas of animals and rock formations and buildings, the man became increasingly aware of the limits of his own existence; “How can I recreate if I have never really encountered anything?” This question had propelled the man into his future and inspired him to hit the road in search of the real life that he really only knew from books or others’ stories.
The man, as a child, was content to conceal his gift and he only used it to put a smile on the faces of the people he loved most. And the man was sure that he had done a good job of keeping his gift to himself and his immediate family. But then Ivan was waiting for him in his house, with questions that he was not prepared to answer.
“It was Grandfather Fire, you were sitting with Grandfather Fire,” Ivan says with a look of amazement in his eyes that the man recognizes from the first time he created the black horse for his sister. “How did you do it? I respect the traditions of my family, they are important to me, but honestly, I never really believed it. It was all just an allegory for the importance of having respect for nature. Until I saw him, Grandfather Fire. You were sitting with Grandfather Fire, the original Huichol Shaman.”
When Ivan finishes, the two sit looking at one another, the man uncomfortable and struggling to think of an explanation. He had created Grandfather Fire, who Ivan had explained was the first Huichol to conduct ceremonies and healing rights for his people, complete with the glowing green flame that raged up and around his body that was not hot, but a reflection of the abundance of Kupuri life force that he had gathered through his concord with the spirit world and the spirit of the Earth, nature, and all wildlife that he came into contact with. The thought of Grandfather Fire had intrigued the man and when he thought he was alone in the back office of the library, he imagined the ancient Huichol man that looked an awful lot like Ivan’s grandfather, and covered him with the healing, green flame. The man talked with his Grandfather Fire, but of course it was not the religious experience that he would have wanted, the ancient shaman only had rudimentary thoughts that were copied from the man at creation, so the man was only talking to himself. But to Ivan, the scene must have been akin to seeing Jesus Christ.
“You don’t have to tell me how you did it, I don’t want to know, I just wanted to thank you for giving me real faith. No one ever gets to see their God in real life, just sitting around, and if not for that, I would be broken right now. My relationship with my family is not great, but I know who I am and I know where I came from and it’s time I accept my grandfather’s inheritance, even though he says it isn’t mine anymore.” Ivan says many sad things but he is not sad, the man had given him hope. “I’m going to educate myself, I’m going to meditate and train my body and my soul, and one day I’m going to sit with the first shaman just like you did. I’m jealous that it seemed so easy to you, the two of you were just casually talking like it wasn’t the most amazing thing that ever happened. But it won’t be satisfying if I get my meeting with the first shaman by just copying what you did, I know I have to find my own way. And I will. And I just had to come and thank you and I wanted to wish you the best. You are destined for amazing things, my friend.”
Ivan stands to leave and the man feels that he has dodged a bullet. It should not have been so easy, the man thinks as he and Ivan shake again.
“Do me a favor, Ivan,” the man says, “Don’t tell anyone else about this. Have you told anyone else about what you saw?”
“I know that no one would believe me, and it’s not for anyone else to know. It was for me to see and I saw it. Nothing else will come of it, I promise.” Ivan holds the man’s one hand with both of his and then he hugs the man before leaving, but not before giving the man his contact information. “If I can ever do anything for you, I will happily do it.”
The man finally has a friend that is not a blood relation. And he goes up to his room to finish packing his things. He will load up his car tonight with only the essentials, and he will set out in search of the real life that he struggled to create in fifteen minute increments.
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