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Authors: J.J. Murray

No Ordinary Love (39 page)

BOOK: No Ordinary Love
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“Yes,” Tony said.

Smart man.
“I get it. But they don’t.”

“If they are quiet,” Tony said, “they will hear me saying it.”

“You might be waiting a long time,” Trina whispered.

“I can wait,” Tony said. “It is a beautiful day, and I am with you.”

Trina gripped his hands tightly. “Thank you.”

Tony made direct eye contact with reporters now, not widening his eyes. “Seas of faces, seas of spaces, no oasis, what’s the basis for the human races,” he mumbled.

The reporters quieted down.

“Hello,” Tony said.

“Tony, what do you think of your girlfriend losing her job?”

“Why did Trina lie?”

“Do you believe piano teachers are worthless?”

Tony stared at the reporters in front of him. “Staring through him,” Tony mumbled, “must unglue him, what land grew him, not a true him.”

The entire crowd quieted down.

“I said hello,” Tony said. “I do not know all your names or I would say hello with your name. I will try again. Hello.”

A few reporters said hello.

“That is better.” He smiled and looked into the sky. “Can you hear the birds now? They sing to us for free all day. We must listen to them. They have many words to say.”

“Is he quoting song lyrics at us or what?” a reporter said.

“Shut up, man,” another reporter said. “Let him talk.”

“I came to San Francisco to meet Trina,” Tony said. “I did not tell my brother Angelo I was going. I did not lie to him, but I did not tell him the truth. So, I lied, too.”

He’s taking up for me,
Trina thought.
A man is taking up for me.

“Angela and Matthew in Brooklyn helped me buy a plane ticket,” Tony said. “Matthew rode with me in the taxi. It was the first time I was in a taxi. Katie helped me on the airplane. It was the first time I was in an airplane. It was the first time I was not in New York. Marie helped me find a taxi. Tino the taxi driver at the airport and Lily at Saint Francis Memorial Hospital here in San Francisco helped me. Jeanie and Terry the bellhop and Lu Chu who brought me food at the Huntington Hotel helped me. Natalya and Bea helped me at shoe stores. Carlos gave me a good haircut. Carmine made me laugh. William helped me with my new clothes. Hyun Ae made me a messy sandwich. Everywhere I go in Brooklyn and in San Francisco, people are kind. I am glad there is kindness in the world.”

“What about your girlfriend?” a reporter shouted. “Do you think the disciplinary review board at Saint Francis will be kind to her?”

Tony smiled. “I saw Trina at Huntington Park. She looked up at the sun, and the sun turned her gold. I wrote a song for her. That is love. She rubbed her tired feet so I bought her shoes. Her feet do not hurt anymore. That is love.”

The first time Tony showed me love, I didn’t know it was love,
Trina thought.
Now I know. I will never forget the lyrics to my song and I will never throw out the shoes he gave me.

“Carlos gave me a good haircut and a shave,” Tony said. “He talked to me. He gave me good advice. That is love. I tipped Carlos a thousand dollars. That is love. I tried to take Trina to Cielo Azul. The man did not believe me when I told him I was Art E. I do not blame him. I would not believe I was Art E. either. I am sorry I ordered all that food. I will pay them back for the trouble I caused. I will make it right. That is love.”

Tony stared at the loudest reporter in the front row.

“I didn’t have a question,” the reporter said.

“You are listening instead of speaking,” Tony said. “That is love, too. We went to Johnny Foley’s to eat. Trina paid. She would not let me pay. Trina does not have much money, but she paid for me. That is love. I played the piano for Trina. I made her smile. That is love. People cheered for me when I played the piano at Johnny Foley’s. That is love. Trina let me use her toothbrush. I left mine at the hotel. That is love.”

Some reporters laughed.

“Trina gave me beef stew for breakfast,” Tony said. “She told me to be careful, it’s hot. That is love. She showed me the sights in San Francisco. We rode the cable cars. We looked at art. We watched the sea lions. We rode on a carousel. That is love. Trina taught me how to iron my clothes. That is love. She let me wash her hair. That is love. When I am nervous, she touches me and I calm down. That is love. I said that I would play for free tonight at Johnny Foley’s. I said that music should be free. That is love. Trina said, ‘I love you, Tony’ last night. That is love. Today I read a newspaper story about Trina.”

The reporters leaned in.

“Trina lied to her supervisor so she could be with me,” Tony said. “That is love.” He looked at the ground. “Because I have Asperger’s I cannot feel the same things other people feel. I cannot feel love. But I can show love. I have shown love for Trina today by talking to you. This is love.”

He may not feel it, but I sure do,
Trina thought.
Tony loves me.

“We are going to Chinatown today,” Tony said. “I know all the streets. If you come with us, you will not get lost.” He looked up at Trina’s front window and waved at Angelo and Aika. “We are going to Chinatown now.”

I will go anywhere with Tony,
Trina thought.
I will go everywhere with this man.

37

S
hown around the globe and translated into many languages, Tony’s “That is love” speech struck some chords and plucked some heartstrings. Most of the media relaxed and simply reported instead of trying to make the news as they followed Angelo, Tony, Aika, and Trina around Chinatown.

The “Art E. Entourage” started at Grant Avenue and Bush Street at the Chinatown Gate, where stone lions guarded an entrance to Chinatown. Tony asked a Chinese woman what the Chinese characters on the gate meant.

“Peace, trust, respect, and love,” she told him.

Tony smiled at her. “Trust in peace and respect love. Love peace and respect trust.”

“Yes,” the woman said. “You are right.”

Then the entourage became tourists. They browsed the Chinatown Kite Shop, where Tony pronounced dragons “the fiercest flying warriors who play the notes with their wings.” They posed for pictures in front of Chinese Hospital, where martial-arts legend Bruce Lee was born. They shopped at Dragon House, where Tony bought Trina a jade Chinese character symbolizing love. They ate sticky and garlicky sesame chicken with scallion pancakes and salt-and-pepper shrimp at the crowded House of Nanking on Kearny Street. They toured the incense-infused Kong Chow Temple, left a sizable donation, and learned that the color red warded off evil spirits, green symbolized longevity, and gold symbolized majesty.

“You are gold,” Tony said to Trina. “You are a queen.”

Trina kissed Tony often during the day.

Pictures of Trina and Tony appeared all over the Internet within minutes, and aside from several hard-core trolls, most of the comments were favorable: “They make a cute couple.... Those two are in love.... Her hair looks a lot better today.”

At Portsmouth Square, Tony tried Tai Chi for the first time. At first he stumbled and looked awkward trying to mimic the tiny Chinese woman beside him, but once he felt the flow, he did fine. A photograph of Tony, Aika, and Trina doing Tai Chi appeared in newspapers as far away as Beijing.

Angelo begged off, citing an old high-school basketball injury.

Tony became instantly fascinated by men and women playing Chinese chess, also known as
Xiangqi.
While two men played a speed version of the game and the press took hundreds of pictures, Tony studied the pieces and the moves.

“Like chess and not like chess,” he whispered to Trina. “Like checkers and not like checkers.”

Trina had difficulty following the lightning-quick action. “I don’t get it,” she whispered.

“Soldiers swim and then can move sideways,” Tony said. “Soldiers can never retreat. Elephants cannot cross the river. Elephants can only move to seven positions. Horses cannot jump. Chariots are powerful. Cannons capture by jumping. Generals cannot face each other. Advisers cannot leave the palace.”

“I still don’t get it,” Trina said.

“I will show you.”

Once one man beat another, Tony sat in the loser’s place. “I want to play. I am Tony Santangelo.”

A wizened, wiry Chinese man nodded. “I am Tan Qin.”

After the first move, Tony’s and Tan Qin’s hands moved so fast it was hard to follow the action. “Attack, attack, attack,” Tony whispered continuously.

“Does he know what he’s doing?” a reporter asked.

“Apparently he does,” Trina said. “He’s lasted a lot longer than the last guy did.”

At one point Tony sat back and nodded his head. “Check,” he said.

Tan Qin laughed. “You have surrounded my general.” He extended his hand. “I am honored to lose to you.”

Tony shook his hand. “You are very good at this game.”

Tan Qin laughed louder. “Not today.”

A man next to Angelo told him, “Your brother just beat a grand master. I have never seen Tan Qin lose.”

“Are you sure Tony has never played this game?” a reporter asked.

“This is the first time,” Angelo said. “I don’t know how he does it. He learned chess in a day. That game looks harder.”

Tony stood. “It is not hard. The pieces are like notes, and I played a melody with them.”

Later that night at a cover-free, standing-room-only Johnny Foley’s, Tony entered the Cellar and saw only one piano that was flanked by musicians with amplifiers, a man at a drum set, and several singers standing behind microphone stands. Mr. Kelly introduced Tony to his “accompaniment” for the night: Creedence Clearwater Revival guitarist John Fogerty; Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart and bassist Phil Lesh; jazz guitarist Calvin Keys; singer Tom Waits; jazz singer Faye Carol; and singer-actress JuJu Chan.

The press would call the ensemble “San Francisco’s Finest plus One.”

And they rocked Johnny Foley’s as it had never been rocked before.

With Tony hammering away on the piano, the group recreated and redefined Led Zeppelin’s “Ramble On” and “Nobody’s Fault”; CCR’s “Bad Moon Rising”; Jefferson Starship’s “We Built This City”; the Pointer Sisters’ “Slow Hand”; Sly and the Family Stone’s “Dance to the Music”; and Journey’s “Lights” and “Anyway You Want It.”

Bootleg videos and audio CDs of this jam session would number in the millions and “outsell” most genuine albums for the rest of the year.

Tony ended the night with Trina by his side on the piano bench in a soft golden spotlight. “I have finished your song,” he said.

Trina smiled.

“For now,” Tony said. “I am sure I will add many verses in the future.” He kissed her cheek. “This song is called ‘Trina.’ . . .” And instead of singing, Tony chanted:

 

If you
tell
me what is beauty,
you might say this woman’s booty,
you might name a color or race,
or you might show me a pretty face.
 
 
But if you
asked
me what is beauty,
it won’t be a woman’s booty,
it won’t be a color or race—
it’s sunlight’s lace on Trina’s face . . .
 
 
Streams of gold shine all around her,
I thank God that I have found her,
I will remember this sunlight moment
as long as I live, as long as I love . . .
 
 
Streets of gold shine all around her,
I thank the heaven that unbound her,
I will remember her angel’s face
as long as I live, as long as I love . . .

 

As Trina rested her head on Tony’s shoulder while the applause swelled around them, Tony said, “I love you, Trina.”

Trina wept. “I love you, too, Tony.”

Aika pulled Angelo away from the stage and into a dark corner, where she hugged him. “Tony just told her he loved her.”

Angelo nodded. “I know.”

“I think he’s ready,” Aika said. “Don’t you?”

“He’s ready.” He kissed Aika tenderly. “I guess I had better call his lawyer. . . .”

38

L
ater at 2:00 AM, Tony sat with Trina on the purple couch, his arm around her shoulders, her head snuggling into his chest, while Angelo and Aika stood at the window, looking down on a few camera crews.

“Are you tired?” Trina whispered.

“Yes,” Tony said. “But I am not sleepy.”

Trina rubbed his chest. “Good.”

Angelo left the window, moved the TV stand back, and sat on the coffee table. “Tony, look at me,” he said.

Tony sat up straighter. “This is important.”

“Yes,” Angelo said. “This is important. I talked to Matthew a little while ago. I understand you hired Matthew to be your lawyer.”

“Yes,” Tony said. “I paid Matthew a retainer of fifty cents.”

Angelo smiled. “Well, he couldn’t legally be your lawyer before. We already had a family lawyer, but that’s not what’s important. I am going to pay Matthew five thousand dollars so he can officially be your lawyer.”

“Okay,” Tony said.

Trina sat up straighter and looked at Aika.

Aika nodded.

Something big is happening,
Trina thought.
Something wonderful.

“Matthew and I are going to work to release you from my care,” Angelo said.

Tony stiffened. “You will not care.”

“I’ll never stop caring about you, Tony,” Angelo said. “I can never stop caring about you. It’s just the legal way for me to stop being your legal guardian. It’s a way you can be your own man.”

“I am my own man,” Tony said.

“I know,” Angelo said. “You’ve proved that, and now we’re going to make it legal. You’ll have immediate access to all the money you’ve earned and you can live wherever you want to.” He smiled at Trina. “With whomever you want to. And if Trina is who you want and she wants you, then . . . that’s good. That’s fine by me. You have my . . . my blessing.”

BOOK: No Ordinary Love
3.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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