“I think you should take the rest of the day off from school.” Said the old man as he looked around curiously, “Where is your backpack?”
“I dropped out of school months ago.”
“Why?” Asked the old man.
“I don’t know. I don’t have any friends there, everyone is so...fake. Trying to find themselves and shit. They’re putting on for the likes of others and the teachers don’t even care. If anyone cared they would be at my house trying to force me back into school.”
“Maybe.” Said the old man. “Or perhaps they don’t feel the need to waste their time helping someone who refuses to help himself.”
The boy looked up at the old man, a look of deep regret and hurt on his face.
“Ahh, yes, the truth hurts, doesn’t it? Our muscles do not grow unless we put them under some stress every now and again, your heart included.”
“I don’t want to go.” Said the boy. “I want to learn what I want to learn. Not who signed the magna carta or who shot whatever duke in so and so country, I want to learn about religion and art and the history that they don’t want to teach us.”
The old man truly did admire the boy.
“I understand.” Said the old man. “I truly do, but have you given any thought to what you want to do with your future in terms of making money? You cannot eat wisdom, and you cannot sleep under knowledge, hmm?”
“I want to work here. I want to grow mushrooms and teach people to open their minds and hearts and that’s my mission as a prophet isn’t it? To lead people to truth?”
“Yes, it is, but do not let who you are go to your head. Beware of your ego. Also, being a prophet doesn’t mean being uneducated. The ink of a scholar is more precious than the blood of a martyr.” Said the old man.
“I want to work here and learn from you. I want to specialize in holistic arts.”
“Then maybe you should get a degree to prove it eh? You can have all the knowledge in the world, but the people in today’s age will not usually take you seriously without proof on paperwork.”
The old man leaned in closely, “White people love paperwork.” He chuckled to himself.
“Although I cannot force you to do anything, I strongly advise you to at least get your high school diploma, irregardless of your arguments. Believe me, it’s something you will forever regret. And, with your newfound insight, maybe it will be a good learning experience for you, or better yet, a training ground. If you wish to learn from me, then I require you to have your diploma.”
The boy gave the old man a begrudging stare.
“There, I want you to practice patience, humility, compassion, develop character and forge friendships. You want to help people? Start with your peers, eh?”
The boy looked down at his feet. The old man was right. I’d didn’t matter that he was who he was, he was no better than anyone else. He was still just a boy, and he had a lot of growing up to do.
He was also right about it being a training ground, it was going to be hard to pop up in those hallways again, knowing the trouble he had caused before he left. But if he wanted to be under the tutelage of this old man, he needed to prove himself.
“I have a lot of work ahead of me, don’t I?”Asked the boy.
“It would seem that way, yes.” Said the old man, kneeling down beside him. “But we will do this together, and I will be there to guide you.”
The boy hugged the old man.
“Does your grandmother know you dropped out?”
“Yea...” He said letting the old man go. “She was really mad, but she said it was my decision and she couldn’t force me to go, knowing I would just leave anyway. She just told me I needed to get a job.”
“Ahhh, well I think it’s about time I met grandma. Tomorrow, you will begin your training at school. After school, you will go home, do your homework, help your grandmother, and read whatever book that I give you. Then every weekend, you will come work here in my shop. Do we have an agreement?”
The old man asked, extending his hand. The boy reached up to shake it but the old man pulled it back.
“Contract and term sheets are binding. But the real code and binding agreement is the handshake. Eye to eye.”
The old man re-extended his hand.
The boy stood up, looked him in the eyes, and shook his hand.
“Deal.”