understand he would like to go to math camp?”
“Yes, that’s why he works after school and on weekends,” she confirmed. “He needs so many things for his life: laptop, cell phone, shoes-but it’s hard because I’m the only one working.”
“I understand, ma’am.” He looked at the boy. “Here, Danilo. This is for you.” Jason handed him an envelope. “You’re going to math camp.”
“What?” He opened the envelope to find three $100 bills inside. “Oh my God!” His face lit up with bulging eyes and a wide smile. “Oh my God! Thank you!”
“No, no, Mr. Jason!” His mother interrupted. “Thank you, but you cannot do this. He needs to earn it. He needs to work hard for things.” She took the envelope from the boy’s hands and handed it back. Jason put his hands up in refusal.
“Your boy shouldn’t be working after school or on weekends. He should be enjoying his life and family.” The image of Jordan flashed before his eyes. “Because when he becomes an adult, when the world demands so much of him, he will think about the youth he left behind and regret that it’s lost.” He fought back tears threatening to surface. He took a breath and continued.
“I’m sorry for the loss of your husband, Mrs. Bantilan. I lost my parents, my brother and the uncle who raised me.”
“I’m so sorry,” she answered with regret. Jason’s tears now spilled down his cheeks.
“That’s why I’m happy to help your son.” He turned to the boy whose eyes were held downward in humble remorse. “This is for math camp, Danilo. Take it.” The boy raised his head and looked at his mother, whose eyes were now moistened by her own tears. She nodded and he slowly took the envelope.
“And this is for you, Mrs. Bantilan.” He handed her an envelope, and when she opened it, she shook her head and again handed it back.
“No, Mr. Jason! I can’t take this! Five thousand dollars!? I can’t take this from you!” He gently pushed the envelope back.
“I want you to have it.”
“But why?” She was now in tears.
“Because where I’m going, I won’t need it.” The answer seemed oddly apropos after he said it.
“Where are you going?”
I’m going to commit suicide. This was the answer that entered his mind, but never reached his lips.
“I’m going to Iran,” he lied. “I’m joining the service to fight in the Iran War. You can see I’m leaving.” He stepped out of the doorway so both could see the stacks of boxes in the living room.
“When?” Danilo asked.
“Today. I’m just waiting for the movers.” He turned away and stepped into the living room. “Wait one sec.” He returned to the door with an opened box. “Here Danilo, I believe you can use these.” He pulled out a flat box from the larger one.
“Oh my God!” the boy exhaled as he looked at the product information and photos on the box. “Look, Mom!”
“It’s the latest Apple iPad. You’ll need it for school and travel. Here’s a Sony Vaio laptop, practically new. This will last you through college.”
“Oh my God! Mom! A tablet AND a laptop! Thank you, Jason! Thank you so much!” Jason nodded and handed him another item the size of his hand.
“Here’s my Samsung Android smart phone. It’s yours. The latest 4G model with all the apps included. Just take it to the mall to get it activated. All the paperwork and recharger is in this box; here, put all your stuff in it.” As the boy looked over the electronic treasures he’d just received, Jason beheld the grateful, weeping woman once more.
“I must go now, Mrs. Bantilan. Just by my short talk with Danilo, I can see that you are a good mother. Your son is an exceptional boy. He has an exceptional character. He won’t let you down, right Danilo?”
“I won’t!” He looked at his mom and kissed her. “I’ve already promised you.”
“I know he will succeed.” The woman stepped forward and hugged Jason, then stepped back. Danilo put down the box of gifts and hugged him, too. Jason closed his eyes and imagined Jordan in his arms.
The final embrace of my life.
When they stepped back, all three had to wipe the tears from their eyes. Jason smiled approvingly, satisfied that he had given at least one person in the world, hope and joy.
“Here’s the money for the food. There’s something extra in there for you, Danilo.” The boy took out the two $50 bills, replaced one in the envelope and gave the other to his mother.
“I always give my tips to my mom.”
Jason pursed his lips before they began to tremble. This boy’s devotion was unreal, reminding him of his own to a family that was all but snuffed out of his life. He sniffed hard and nodded.
“That’s good, Danilo. Take care of your mother. Always.”
“Thank you for everything, Mr. Jason.” The woman was still misty-eyed as she put her hand on his shoulder. “Come find us when you come back from the war. You are welcomed in our house.”
When the Bantilans drove out of the parking lot, Jason felt a calm satisfaction. He will have done something charitable, an act of kindness and mercy from deep within his heart before ending his life. What’s more is that it was spontaneous, almost natural. To give the boy all those things and not leave them to Mr. Sebastiani was, alone, gratifying.
Jason was not a religious man by any stretch, but he did have his own remote imaginings of what might or could happen once death claimed a person. He wasn’t afraid of dying. He surmised that only people with something to lose, like family, wealth or power, feared death the most because they couldn’t take any of it with them.
But since he had none of these things, he didn’t need to fear it. He relied on the traditional Asian mentality that death was just another chapter of life, a new phase of existence. He wouldn’t really be dead-just exist, and even function-in another place, in another time, surrounded by other, well, dead people.
He believed that this realm had levels, stages and tiers from which the soul could evolve from and ascend to. Although Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory were Christian locations, all were in every sense, part of every religion’s atlas of the world of the deceased. The roadmap of the dead, he believed, could be navigated, even charted, leading to higher levels of redemption through how one behaved while on the road.
Hell had many levels of despair, pain and anguish, he surmised; but someone could eventually work his way out of a level and ascend to the next one. Horrifying challenges, arduous tasks and formidable tests would have to be endured and passed in order to move forward and upward, to the goal or level one held most dear.
Jason’s goal was to go to his parents and his brother. As a suicide, he knew he would have to endure a long period of painful struggles in the lower existences of Hell. Still, he was not afraid.
He believed in the basic concepts of Karma, the checks
