First Memory

 

            Agabus Billingston paced the hallway between the waiting room and the delivery room, chomping on a cheap cigar and reeking of motor oil, stressed but also thrilled at the birth of his first child. He could hear his wife struggling through the contractions and felt helpless, wishing he could be with her, wanting to be the first one to see the child on his arrival. Agabus always hated his name, which was his grandmother's idea, being a deeply religious woman, so he was always known as 'Aggie' and certainly didn't follow his grandmother's religious aspirations.

              Cars and motorcycles were his passion, taking on his first job at the age of 14 at the local gas station, sweeping, organizing, and smiling at customers, he slowly worked his way upward in responsibility, eventually becoming a mechanic. While not the most intelligent person by a long shot, he could diagnose and repair anything with an engine, car, truck, boat, motorcycle, diesel, or two stroke, all of these were putty in his hands. He had visions of raising up his son to follow in his footsteps, to take over when Aggie grew too old to continue.

              Finishing his cigar, he snuffed it out, leaving the butt in the ashtray at the end of the hallway between the snack dispensers and wishing he had another, but his thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of an elderly nurse frantically motioning for him to follow her into the delivery room. He popped a piece of gum into his mouth to try to mask the smell of cheap tobacco and entered the room to see his wife smiling and exhausted, holding the small bundle that would someday grow up to become a mechanic.

              Leaning down, he kissed his wife and immediately noticed her revulsion at his smell, prompting him to apologize and retrieve the child from her hands. He sat down and partially unwrapped the bright red bundle with a massive head of hair and a squashed face. Despite the slimy and mushy look of the child, his eyes were wide, staring into Aggies soul, he felt. Rewrapping the child, he returned him to his wife to learn that she had named him Melvin, which left him somewhat ponderous, as he thought they had agreed on Jonathan, after his father.

              Agabus took a week off of work and carefully followed his wife's instructions as she recovered in bed. He washed dishes, changed diapers, warmed up food brought to them by their neighbors, and kept an eye on little Melvin who continued to stare into his soul, making him uncomfortable each time they made eye contact. On the evening of day six, he allowed his wife to ease back into her normal routine and he was itching to get back into the garage, to normalcy, he thought.

              Week after week passed, and little Melvin still retained his soul searching stare and grew larger by the day, which was a thrilling fact for Aggie, trusting that his son would grow up to be a man of substance and not weak. At twelve months, Melvin was walking and by year two, he began to speak, constantly drilling Aggie with questions about what he did each day, why he did it, and where he went. Initially, Aggie spoke simply and briefly to the boy, but Melvin seemed to grow impatient with the dumbed down answers and began expounding on his questions, demanding more and more detail from his father.

              Aggie marveled at how quickly time had passed and felt that Melvin had surpassed him in his reading ability, his thought processes, and his understanding of the chemistry and mechanics of the gasoline engine, which, to Aggies somewhat aggravation, was confusing and unnatural. The day finally came when Melvin reached school age and began attending the local elementary school, which suddenly turned into an exercise in frustration as the boy knew all the answers, asked far too many questions, and moved from one grade to the next, always surpassing his classmates and what was expected of him.

              At eleven years old, Melvin entered high school to continue his academic rigor, always seeking to expand his never-ending thirst for understanding, and befriended everyone, including those who thought him odd, which he was. Never one to utter an unkind word but always one to help out those who were weak and simple. His size was a great advantage, as he, even though younger than everyone else, never had to face any kind of physical bullying instead intervening for those who could not defend themselves.

              Much to Aggies disappointment, he showed no interest in working on engines or playing sports, preferring instead to spend time learning some new, obscure topic or with his friends at school, the kids that were neglected, abused, ignored, and taken advantage of, which Melvin always put a stop to whenever he could. One evening about half-way through his first year of high school, the family sat around the dinner table and Melvin began speaking about his memories for when he was very young, reciting the mechanical instruction his father had imbued on him at the age of two. "I remember it all," he said, "I even remember father coming into the room where I was born. I remember the look of shock and amusement on his face when he unwrapped me the first time. Even then he smelled like cheap tobacco."

              The table fell silent with only the sound of chewing and swallowing to answer Melvin's comments. He quickly stood and placed his dishes in the sink, to begin cleaning the kitchen, and packaging up food left over from dinner. "I have to admit that school really is quite boring," he said. "The academic work is not even remotely challenging, but I do find great joy in helping some of the other students who struggle with it and watching over the kids that the bullies pick on. I don't know why some people are so mean. I do my best to make sure it doesn't happen."

              The following day at school, Melvin sat with his simpler and smaller friends in the far corner of the cafeteria with his back to the rest of the students. From the corner of his eye, he saw hand reach into his friend's lunch tray in an attempt to seize a cookie, which motivated him to quickly drive his fork into the back of the thieving hand. The prompt action was immediately followed by a string of profanity, dropping the cookie, and a sudden seizure of Melvin's shoulder. He stood up, removed the boy's hand, and twisted it behind his back, forcing him to the floor.

              It was at that moment that he realized he made a definitive statement about what was expected and not allowed from anyone who tried to intervene with he and his friends.  The boy staggered off to rejoin his friends at a distant table, holding his hand and looking embarrassed. Melvin then moved to the opposite side of the table, giving him the ability to foresee anyone approaching. He could see the look of excitement and amazement in his friends' faces, reading the nearly overwhelming desire to cheer but they all refrained, thanking him instead under their breath.

              His first years of high school finished, then his second, and finally his third, eventually earning him the nickname Saint Melvin and a reputation around town as being that really good Billingston kid. During his final year of school, he took on a mentor named Ephrem to continue his protective work after he graduated, a large child in whom Melvin could see goodness, kindness, and sympathy, clearly communicating the transfer of power that would take place once he left and the expectation of respect.

              His ability to see into the souls of everyone he met continued, an ability he could not explain or articulate, but a skill that gave him the upper hand in his interactions, drawing out the good and overcoming the evil, which he saw in everyone. With his encyclopedic mind and heart full of compassion, everyone expected him to continue on to university, but Melvin had no such desire. He instead took on the responsibility of janitor at the high school, earning enough to provide for himself and help others, living at home until he saved up enough money to rent his own apartment.

              As Ephrem entered his senior year, he too earned the nickname Saint Ephrem and Melvin encouraged him to find a mentor and continue the work that he had started and Ephrem had continued. "It was too valuable," he said, "to allow to disappear. There are too many people who need help and protection. It is our responsibility to make this happen." Within a week, Melvin was thrilled to see Ephrem take a student by the name of Abo under his wing and train him for the next several months.

              The idea of knowledge, wisdom, and being good weighed heavily upon Melvin and he decided to begin his own academic work each night after work and especially during the summers when he was not so busy at school. He began reading everything of value he could find at the library, he began writing papers and eventually books, trusting that his words would motivate others to imitate what he had begun.

              Over the next decade, people by the dozens were coming to him for advice, for direction, and for help with a variety of problems, all of which he was thrilled to provide. The apartment building in which he lived soon became like a shelter, with more and more people moving in simply to be near to Melvin and help him continue his work, both at the school and through his writings, which ultimately became insanely popular as a podcast, answering questions and providing direction.

              Aggie watched from a distance, amazed at what his son had become, something that he never could have imagined possible coming from someone like himself. But he was proud of his boy and supported him however he could.