Reality Shmeality

Chapter Twelve

Graduation was on June 1st and I had bought my one-way ticket to Nairobi, Kenya for the following day. I didn't want to waste any time. I would fly to Nairobi and take a bus south to Arusha in the north of Tanzania before connecting on another bus for the remaining hour or so to Moshi. In the spring, I started to hear back from King Features on a regular basis and it was a lot of good news. The newspapers loved Reality Shmeality, and the responses from the readers were incredibly positive. By April, I was in a dozen newspapers and once May came around, it really started to snowball.

On the morning of graduation, I received a phone call from King Features congratulating me on my 100th newspaper. The response was so positive that they even started talking to me about putting together my first book. I was eighteen years old and already accomplishing my childhood dream. I was producing more and more comics and was able to sneak in quite a few panels about animal rights and industrial animal agriculture, a topic that isn't very well received by most people. It was a very strange feeling getting to educate people about animal rights issues through my drawings. The team from King Features knew I was heading to Africa the following day and wished me a safe and happy voyage. They reminded me over and over to keep up the good work and to stay in touch with them as often as possible. I had a weekly meeting where I would update them on the progress of Reality Shmeality and scan them the completed comics for them to edit, archive, and sell. I promised them I would get in touch with them once I was settled at Hostel Heart. They were excited to see what a major change could do for my creativity, though, I also felt they were a bit nervous as well. The last thing they wanted was for me to vanish into the travel world and forget about my commitment to them. After all, I was their client, not their friend.

I almost didn't go to my high school graduation. The only reason I did was for my parents who were really proud of me for not dropping out. I know that sounds harsh, but it was the truth. Both of my parents were high school dropouts and even though Mom went back and got a great education, they never had the opportunity to walk across the stage with the people they grew up with. I could not have cared less about walking the stage with the people I grew up with because a lot of them were assholes that bullied and mocked me for years. But Mom and Dad deserved the world for all of the love and support so I did it to make them happy. We arrived at the Eastman Theatre on Gibbs Street in downtown Rochester, and I was in my cap and gown. Mom and Dad were glowing and it made me happy to see. This was one of the first times that Dad would be living vicariously through my experience as opposed to the other way around. He was really proud.

The day was a very strange mix of melancholy and jubilation with everything that was happening. I was in one hundred newspapers and making a lot of money. I was graduating high school after threatening to dropout for years. And the following evening I would get on the first of three flights to take me to the other side of the world. It was a lot for each of us to handle. I tried to stay tough, though that was never my role in the family. I was always the weakest of the clan. I went through my backpack about a dozen times to make sure I had everything I needed. Everything had to be organized perfectly as to be able to access anything at any given moment. I had quite a few compulsive quirks that kept me incredibly organized and efficient. I wouldn't have traded them for anything.

Mom and Dad surprised me with a party for my last night at home. They knew I would be up in my room for a good couple of hours organizing my bag and then checking it another dozen times. They also knew that I would be listening to loud music. They knew me well. They invited a group of close friends and family to gather in the backyard. Sunshine and Sarah showed up with food and a vegan cake, baked far from Nanna's egg-filled kitchen. Anthony and his family were there. Nanna and Howard came by. A dozen of our neighbors were there. Once everyone arrived, Mom came up to the room. She asked me to come downstairs so she could give me something before I left. I was intrigued. We weren't big on giving presents. I am usually quite privy when it comes to sneaky behavior in the household, but my mind was in too many places to figure out that there were people waiting for me.

I followed Mom through the living room and into the kitchen. She walked over to the sliding glass door to the backyard and swung the curtain open with a smile. Everyone in the backyard screamed surprise and I nearly fell on the floor. It was the last thing I was expecting. Sunshine and Anthony were pressing their faces against the window making ridiculous faces and blowing raspberries against the glass. I think it was the first time I laughed in days. I wasn't down and out or anything but just completely foggy in my head and couldn't keep anything straight. Getting ready for a big trip and preparing to step outside of your comfort zone is a daunting experience. It is an emotional rollercoaster that was more exhausting than anything I had ever experienced. It was like I couldn't turn off my head. My sleeping pattern was derailed, and I kept having crazy dreams that had me waking up covered in sweat and with my heart pounding. I remember thinking that I would never travel again before even taking my first trip.

I must have talked to everyone at the party, but I don't remember any of the conversations or saying goodbye to anyone. I was in a daze. It was as if someone had spiked my drink or I had developed an instantaneous case of short-term memory loss. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep so when everyone went to bed I went to the studio to paint a going away gift for the family. It took a while to come up with an idea because my thoughts were all over the place, but I ended up sketching the four of us on an African prairie with Kilimanjaro in the background. I dressed us up in Maasai robes and jewelry and put some giraffes in the background, their long necks just tiny silhouettes against the orange sunset. Mom, Dad, and Sunshine were standing together as I walked off into the distance, my back turned and heading toward the mountain. I worked on the painting throughout the night, unable to find anything resembling fatigue. I figured it would be better for me to pull an all-nighter so I could sleep on the plane. My first flight was from Rochester to New York City where I would catch my second flight from Kennedy to Amsterdam. I purposely scheduled a two-day layover to explore the city before continuing to Nairobi.

The following day was a kind of sadness I had never experienced before. I had a weird feeling in my stomach all day leading up to leaving for the airport. It was an aching emptiness that food couldn't fill. It wasn't a pain I had felt before, and I started to feel guilty that I would be leaving my family. I started thinking horrible thoughts. What if something happened to Mom or Dad? What if Nanna passed away? But I think my biggest fear was Dad and his drinking. He had been so much better but would still drink if he got really down. What if my leaving Rochester on a hedonistic adventure sent him over the edge? What if this trip triggered the ultimate bender that would prove too much for him and something truly awful happened? My mind was all over the place and I almost started to hyperventilate. Mom could see that I was deep in my head and on the verge of a panic attack. I had issues with anxiety in the past but was usually able to calm myself down before having a full-blown attack. She came over with a concerned but caring mom-look on her face.

"Sweetie, please stop worrying. Don't feel bad for pursuing this. You have always wanted to travel and now you have the opportunity. You should be proud to have gotten to this point. Dad and I are so proud of you and you have to realize that. If you were to stay here just to make sure everything was fine with us you would regret it forever. And to be honest, I wouldn't let that happen. You need to follow your heart. We support your decision and we are delighted to have had our little boy become such a wonderful man." She pulled me in for a long, tearful hug that I never wanted to end. I took in every moment of our embrace knowing that I wouldn't hold her for the unforeseeable future.

The drive to the airport was quiet. No one knew what to say. I could see Dad looking non-stop at me through the rearview mirror. I just sadly smiled while looking at the back of their heads. I couldn't stop picturing him in the garage drinking because of me and my choice to leave. It was all-consuming and almost made me tear up my ticket right then and there. Sunshine was leaning on me, her head on my shoulder, and I played with her hair while she tried not to cry. It was painful. I started to question my decision and wondered why anyone traveled if it meant leaving behind their families and those who loved them.

We pulled into the Greater Rochester International Airport. We walked in together, and I could feel my throat closing. Swallowing became a challenge as I felt my eyes growing heavier with each moment that passed. When it was time to go through the security checkpoint I worked up all of the courage I had left and pulled my family in for one last group hug. It was a somber embrace, and I could hear heavy breathing from all around me. I walked through security and looked back to see my three favorite people in the world crying because of a decision I had made to travel. I waved and blew some kisses and tried my best to keep myself together. Once I couldn't see them anymore I broke down. I went into the bathroom and closed myself off to the world in a stall and wept until there were no more tears.