IN SEB’S POCKET!

IN SEB’S POCKET

Wallingford, Connecticut! The stage was set. The sounds coming from the audience seemed thunderous, but as though a movie director had yelled, “Cut!” there was sudden dead silence. The anonymous voice over the sound system was loud and full of pride, “Ladies and Gentlemen, here for the opening night of their world tour, the musical phenomenon, Il Divo.”

Now it was applause and screaming and whistles that were earth shattering!

Waiting backstage, Urs, David, Carlos and Sebastien were silent and had stopped all chatting amongst themselves. Until one minute ago, there had been the slaps on the backs, congratulatory comments to each other and the air was electric with excitement within the group.

Now, with a minute to go, each was within his own mind. Thoughts were different but all dealt with how they had come to this time and place. Each had a different story.

Sebastien’s mind settled on a perfect day at the shore with his mother. Marie had saved and planned and was able to take young Sebastien to Nice for two whole days. They had been fortunate to stay a few blocks from the beach at an older but still charming hotel. It was the first time they had been able to go on holiday.

Sitting by his mother on the sand, Sebastien had looked at the water and sky, but most of all at the beautiful, successful people around them. The people who looked like they belonged and could come here anytime they chose without having to plan and save for a year.

Looking at her beloved son who was the joy of her life, Marie knew his thoughts. “Sebastien, I have faith that one day you will be able to travel to Nice or anywhere in the world that you choose. Perhaps it will be your music that will take you there, perhaps not. Whatever you choose to do, I have faith that there is success and greatness in you, my son.”

Sebastien gave his mother an adoring look. She had been there for him always. She was the only one who had been. He loved this mother who always encouraged him, who taught him to be a good person and who had absolute faith in him. “I will take you with me, mama.” He smiled at her.

Marie reached down and picked up a very small shell. Handing it to Sebastien, she said, “Take this little talisman with you to remind you that someday this can be yours whenever you want.”

Sebastien looked at the small shell, at his mother and at his surroundings with a special twinkle in his eyes.

The announcer’s voice had died away, the applause was deafening, the four men took the stage and walked to their microphones. The opening bars of Regressa Mi filled the air. Preparing to open the song, Sebastien shoved his hand into his pocket and clasped in his fingers, the now worn very smooth, little shell from Nice.