Epilogue
I had been wonderingwhat was in this room even before I moved in last month. It seemed like I recalled it being a guest room, but it was on the other side of his house. When I came over it was for sessions, which was in Russell’s play room on the opposite side of the house. I think Russell had closed up this room a few months ago and I never thought to ask him why.
“You can open the door, Ryan,” Russell said from just over my shoulder.
“You have me kind of nervous,” I admitted.
Russell put both hands on my shoulders and jostled me. He guided my left hand to the doorknob and kissed my ear.
“Open it, Ryan. It won’t bite.”
I nodded, turned the handle, then pushed the door open. From the doorway, my eyes roamed the room.What the fuck?My heart pounded and my mind raced as I stared.
“It’s okay, Ryan.” Russell put his hand on the small of my back and nudged me forward.
I stepped inside what I had remembered as a guest bedroom. The room faced the backyard and the natural sunlight flooded the space. Next to the floor to ceiling windows was a white high gloss desk with silver legs and a big comfy looking chair sat behind it. The room also had a bookcase and credenza in the same white gloss finish. In the corner there was a gray leather loveseat…and draped over the back of the loveseat was a USC baseball throw.
Next to a brand new silver MacBook on the desk was a mini Dodgers batting helmet that was also a pen holder. Dodgers and USC pens filled the helmet. Sitting next to the helmet pen holder was a remote control. Russell picked up the remote and pointed it to the end table beside the loveseat. A baseball light lit up and I walked toward it. We had seen these!
“Hey! We saw these at the sports expo!” I exclaimed.
“I ordered this for you that night.”
The lamp looked like a baseball and had the Dodger’s logo in the center. The stitches glowed the most beautiful Dodgers blue that I had ever seen. But at the top of the baseball, was my name, also in Dodgers blue.
“The remote will change the colors or turn it off and on,” Russell said as he set the remote down on the desk.
The bookshelf was full of the complete collection of Stephen King books and lined with notebooks. On top of the bookshelf was the metal baseball player sculpture that we saw at the art fair. I pulled it off the shelf and held it in my hands.
“So, this is what you were doing with it?” I asked.
Russell came over and kissed the side of my head.
“It was always going to be for you in this room.”
I looked around again. The room was full of stuff I loved.
“I don’t understand, Russell,” I said as I looked around again. “What is this room for exactly?”
“This, my dear boy, is your writing room. This is for you and that creative, beautiful mind of yours. I took some time to assemble it with things you would love.”
“My writing room,” I repeated.
“You have a passion for it. You’ve dreamed of writing. You went to school for it. You wanted it, and life got harder and in the way. I’m giving you the option and ability to do this full time, Ryan. I want you to be happy.”
I couldn’t believe this. I threw my arms around him and hugged him. As I hugged him, my eyes focused on the credenza and the wall it sat against. Hoisted up on the wall was a surfboard.
“Fuck,” I mumbled and went over to it. I reached up and touched it.
I stared in disbelief at the credenza. It held all my awards, plaques, and ribbons from my college baseball team and my varsity letter from high school. I had brought the box from my house when I moved, and I’d left it in Russell’s garage. The box had just been collecting dust at my house in the back of the closet.
“You…you found my box in your garage,” I commented.
“I did. I wasn’t surprised you left it there. I had the perfect place to display your accomplishments. You had accomplished so much, Ryan.” Russell and I stared at my baseball awards in silence for a few moments. He reached for a picture and held it out to me; it was a picture of the team my first year at USC. “I spent an entire five minutes trying to decide which guy was you.” Russell pointed to the second guy in the middle row. “That’s my boy, am I right?”
I nodded and looked at the picture of a much younger me. The uniform concealed so much of what was going on in my life at the time. And Russell knew this and understood it.
USC and Dodgers baseball pennants from various years were on the wall near the credenza. This room was amazing. But on the center of the credenza was a Chewbacca figurine. Suddenly, my chest hurt, and eyes filled up with tears. I picked Chewbacca up and held him in my hands. I remembered telling Russell about my Chewbacca while we were at the sports expo. I took a deep breath and let the tears fall as Russell put his arm around my shoulders.
