“You must be the Principal Adams I read about in the paper. Great job you’ve done with the playground.”
“Who’s this guy with you?”
“My illustrator.”
“They didn’t tell me about a commencement speaker.”
“Everything’s okay now. I’m here.”
Fast-forward…
Parents and children politely clapped as two men walked onto the stage. Coleman sat in a chair next to the podium, and Serge grabbed the mike: “Good morning!”
“
“This is Coleman, my illustrator.” Serge opened his manuscript. “He’ll be helping me today as I read from my upcoming blockbuster,
Coleman held up a crude drawing of a boat and a smiling stick figure with too many arms.
“… Story had dreams of being a dancer. As she grew older, she never let those dreams die. And guess what? Those dreams came true!…”
Coleman held up a drawing of a larger stick figure doing a split on a catwalk.
Parents exchanged confused looks.
“… And her dreams just kept getting bigger!…”
Coleman raised another sheet of paper. A stick figure swung around a fireman’s pole.
Serge glanced up at growing murmurs. “Guess you’re right. Still needs editing.” Serge closed the notebook and began his trademark pacing across the stage.
“What a special day! I see you all can’t wait to get out there in the workforce, make 401K contributions and drink lots of coffee. But I know what you’re thinking: My legs are too short to drive. So you still have twelve more years and hopefully college. Use them wisely. Remember the bestselling book that said, ‘Everything you need to know about life you learned in kindergarten’? Well, he lied. Everything you
Little heads swiveled side to side.
“Who’s over there nodding ‘yes’? That is
Coleman smiled and waved.
“… The most important contribution you can make now is taking pride in your treasured home state. Because nobody else is. Study and cherish her history, even if you have to do it on your own time. I did. Don’t know what they’re teaching today, but when I was a kid, American history was the exact same every year: Christopher Columbus, Plymouth Rock, Pilgrims, Thomas Paine, John Hancock, Sons of Liberty, tea party. I’m thinking, ‘Okay, we have to start somewhere- we’ll get to Florida soon enough.’… Boston Massacre, Crispus Attucks, Paul Revere, the North Church, ‘Redcoats are coming,’ one if by land, two if by sea, three makes a crowd, and I’m sitting in a tiny desk, rolling my eyes at the ceiling. Hello! Did we order the wrong books? Were these supposed to go to Massachusetts?… Then things showed hope, moving south now: Washington crosses the Delaware, down through original colonies, Carolinas, Georgia. Finally! Here we go! Florida’s next! Wait. What’s this? No more pages in the book. School’s out? Then I had to wait all summer, and the first day back the next grade: Christopher Columbus, Plymouth Rock… Know who the first modern Floridians were? Seminoles! Only unconquered group in the country! These are your peeps, the rugged stock you come from. Not genetically descended, but bound by geographical experience like a subtropical Ellis Island. Because who’s really from Florida? Not the flamingos, or even the Seminoles for that matter. They arrived when the government began rounding up tribes, but the Seminoles said, ‘Naw, we prefer waterfront,’ and the white man chased them but got freaked out in the Everglades and let ’em have slot machines… I see you glancing over at the cupcakes and ice cream, so I’ll limit my remaining remarks to distilled wisdom:
“Respect your parents. And respect them even more after you find out they were wrong about a bunch of stuff. Their love and hard work got you to the point where you could realize this.
“Don’t make fun of people who are different. Unless they have more money and influence. Then you must.
“If someone isn’t kind to animals, ignore anything they have to say.
“Your best teachers are sacrificing their comfort to ensure yours; show gratitude. Your worst are jealous of your future; rub it in.
“Don’t talk to strangers, don’t play with matches, don’t eat the yellow snow, don’t pull your uncle’s finger.
“Skip down the street when you’re happy. It’s one of those carefree little things we lose as we get older. If you skip as an adult, people talk, but I don’t mind.
“
“Don’t try to be different-that will make you different.
“Don’t try to be popular. If you’re already popular, you’ve peaked too soon.
“Always walk away from a fight. Then ambush.
“Read everything. Doubt everything. Appreciate everything.
“When you’re feeling down, make a silly noise.
“Go fly a kite-seriously.
“Always say ‘thank you,’ don’t forget to floss, put the lime in the coconut.
“Each new year of school, look for the kid nobody’s talking to- and talk to him.
“Look forward to the wonderment of growing up, raising a family and driving by the gas station where the popular kids now work.
“Cherish freedom of religion: Protect it from religion.
“Remember that a smile is your umbrella. It’s also your sixteen-in-one reversible ratchet set.
“ ‘I am rubber, you are glue’ carries no weight in a knife fight.
“Hang on to your dreams with everything you’ve got. Because the best life is when your dreams come true. The second-best is when they don’t but you never stop chasing them. So never let the authority jade your youthful enthusiasm. Stay excited about dinosaurs, keep looking up at the stars, become an archaeologist, classical pianist, police officer or veterinarian. And, above all else, question everything I’ve just said. Now get out there, class of 2020, and take back our state!”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
ORLANDO
Serge flattened out the front of his jacket. “How do I look?”
“Hey, handsome,” said Eunice.
Edna checked herself in the mirror. “Never thought I’d catch you in a tux.”
“It’s too binding for my lifestyle, but some things are worth sacrificing for.”
The G-Unit had suspended the leather dress code for their most elegant social attire.
The adjoining door to the next suite opened. Students poked heads in. “What are we doing here?”
“The Master Plan has detours,” said Serge. “Just don’t leave that room.”
“For how long?”
Serge pushed the door shut.
“
“Okay,” said Edith. “What am I supposed to do again?”
Serge walked across the suite of a swank resort on International Drive. Two sets of gloves sat on the dresser. A dainty white lace pair. And latex.
“Put the plastic on first, then the white ones will conceal them.” She slipped them on. “How’s that look?”
“Perfect.” Serge handed her a Ziplock bag containing a single dollar bill. “Now stick this in your pocket and don’t open it until the last second. And when you do, make sure the dollar doesn’t touch any part of your body but your
