One Year On Broadway

As I read his response, my eyes skimmed over everything except the words, “Jesse, I would love to have you come on board as an investor in the revival of Once on This Island on Broadway.”

I read it again and smiled.

Leaning back in my chair, I thought about that cold November evening twenty-five years earlier. It had been almost a lifetime ago, but I remembered so clearly the night that brought Once on This Island into our lives.

JESSE

It was the Tuesday night just before Thanksgiving break at Michigan State University, where I was a junior. My boss, Nina Silbergleit, at The Wharton Center for the Performing Arts had scheduled me to usher the evening performance of the national tour of Once on This Island, the musical.

I loved my job as an usher. Escorting people to their seats wasn’t too difficult, and it was decent pay, but the real reason to work at the Wharton Center was to see the musicals that came through on tour. As an MSU student, I couldn’t afford to buy tickets regularly, but as an usher, I was allowed to stick around after everyone else had been seated and see the shows for free.

That night, though, I wanted nothing more than to stay in and sleep, to forget the world around me. It had been a long, difficult semester. The weight of missing my girlfriend, Kathy, crushed me as if a large boulder had fallen on my chest. My body hurt all over, and I was exhausted. Maybe I was coming down with something. With every passing moment, I felt more terrible. Someone else should take my shift. My heart ached too much to go anywhere, and I’d never even heard of this musical.

Picking up the phone to find a sub, I started to dial the number of another usher. Then, not knowing quite why, I put the phone down and decided to go in to work. If I left the theater as soon as everyone was seated, I wouldn't have to be there long anyway. I could forget the world later.

My section that night was mid-way back in Orchestra Left. Time ticked by slowly as I escorted eager, mostly elderly patrons dressed in their Sunday best to their seats. Hiding my weariness, I feigned an air of excitement so as not to dampen the mood.

Thankfully, the house lights went down right on schedule. I waited, standing near the orchestra door in case any late arrivals needed assistance and focused on the stage. Maybe I would want to see this show the next time it came around.

Thunder crashed echoing through the cavernous theater. A flash of lightning lit up the indoor sky, and a young girl screamed as hurricane winds ripped her from her mother’s arms, threatening to drag her into the sea.

But the gods who ruled her island in the French Antilles had a different plan for the little girl Ti Moune. While she watched in terror as her mother disappeared into the angry churning surf, the gods sheltered young Ti Moune high in the branches of a mango tree.

The bright morning sun brought the island to life again, and even the birds sang their praise to the god Asaka, Mother of the Earth. Their soft lilting melodies carried on the ocean breeze to two old peasants, Mama Euralie and Tonton Julian, who strolled hand in hand down the beach. Grateful to be alive, they surveyed the damage that Agwe, God of Water, had inflicted on their island through the night. Startled by the cry of a child, they looked up and spotted a little girl clinging tightly to a tree. Despite their age, poverty, and better instincts, Mama Euralie and Tonton Julian followed their hearts and adopted little Ti Moune as their own.

The stage came alive with color as women dressed in bright yellow and red skirts and headdresses joined the two old peasants and the little girl on the beach. The rhythmic beat of Caribbean drums pulsed in time with my heart. As they danced to the gods, thankful to have been spared by the night’s squall, I smiled for the first time in days. The music stirred something deep within me, as if somehow, I had known this melody all along though I had never heard it. It pulled at my soul like gravity. I had to stay for a little longer.

Magically before my eyes, little Ti Moune transformed into a beautiful young woman singing, “Waiting For Life,” asking the gods to reveal her purpose. What had they saved her for? Adventure? Love? Or something bigger?

In that three-minute song, in Ti Moune’s pleading to the gods, I heard my own heart’s prayer. I, too, wanted love and adventure, though I already knew who that love was.

The mischievous gods of the island heard Ti Moune’s prayer and sent her Daniel, a young aristocrat from the other side of the island, who ran across the stage holding two flashlights until his “car” crashed and spun off the wet, slippery road. The staging here was incredibly simple, but Daniel didn’t need an actual car to get the point across. It was unexpected and wonderful.

I had always loved seeing big spectacular musicals like Les Miserables and Miss Saigon with huge casts and even bigger props and sets—giant barricades, cannons, real cars, and helicopters. This was different, like nothing I’d ever seen before. There were no elaborate set designs and expensive props. The cast was barefoot, and the costumes were simple yet colorful traditional Caribbean-style clothing. Once on This Island was not a big flashy musical, not cotton candy for the senses. It was the exact opposite. The power was in its simplicity, drawing the audience in with the extraordinary Caribbean-flavored score and the heart-wrenching story. Nothing else was needed. It carried me away from the cold and lonely Michigan winter outside and transported me to the island. I only wished Kathy was here with me.

Then, as quickly as Daniel came into Ti Moune’s life, he was taken away again, just as Kathy was whisked from mine. It struck me with the force of a wave crashing into the shore that I was watching scenes of my own story played out before my eyes. My heart hurt.

Thankfully, Asaka, Mother of the Earth, lit up the stage with her larger-than-life personality. Brazenly sashaying across the stage, she led Ti Moune on a dangerous trek through the wilderness to find Daniel. On the way, Asaka belted out the song, “Mama Will Provide.” She pushed out the last note with such force it filled the air in the theater completely, like a balloon on the verge of popping.

Entirely under the island’s spell, I stood mesmerized until the very end of the musical.

As soon as it was over, I ran ahead of the exiting crowd down the stairs. Desperate to see it again, I headed straight to the box office, hoping to get there before it closed. Once on This Island was only playing one more performance here before heading to its next tour stop, and I had to be there. Something had happened to me in those ninety minutes. The story and music had gripped my soul, just as Papa Ge, God of Death, had held fast to Ti Moune’s. I couldn't miss the last show. It had utterly consumed me.

The lady at the ticket window shook her head. “Sorry. I’m closed for the night.”

“Oh, please. I’m…I’m an usher here,” I begged her. “I just worked the show, and I have to bring my girlfriend to see it before it’s gone.”

Pulling her glasses down the bridge of her nose, she looked over the rims and studied me for a moment. I thought she was going to shoo me away, but something must have stirred her heart.

“Okay, hun, if it’s for you and your girlfriend, but don’t tell no one.” She grinned.

Quickly glancing left and right, she reopened the cash register and put my money in the drawer. Then she handed me two tickets under the little glass window. I thanked her repeatedly until she closed up the window and stepped out of the ticket booth through the back door.

As I looked down at the two tickets in my hand, the reality struck me that Kathy might not be able to come with me. I knew she would love the show as much as I had, if only we were allowed to see each other.

The night air outside the theater was ice cold. Luckily, my Honda scooter wasn't parked too far away. I hopped on and wound my way across campus to the house I rented with six other guys.

When I came in, Andy was on the phone that hung from the kitchen wall.

“Hurry and hang up!” I yelled. “I need the phone to call Kathy.”

“Okay, okay.” He mumbled a quick “goodbye” to whomever he was talking to and handed me the receiver.

I held the phone for a moment and took a deep breath. Then, I dialed her number.

KATHY

The phone in my room rang. Was it Jesse? No one else would be calling this late. My heart could hope. It felt like it had been so long. I jumped to pick up the receiver before my mom could answer.

“Hello?” I said as quietly as I could, hoping she hadn’t picked up the other end downstairs to listen in. When I chose to live at home for college to save money instead of in the dorms, I had never envisioned this type of scenario. Now, I was a twenty-year-old junior at MSU and regretted that decision.

“Hi, it’s Jesse.”

My cheeks flushed with warmth hearing his voice again. “Oh, hi,” I said, playing with the twisted phone cord, nervous that my parents might hear me. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“I need to see you. Are you free tomorrow night?” he asked.

“I’m supposed to be helping with Thanksgiving preparation. Why?” Maybe I could secretly meet him, but I had never done anything like that before and didn’t realistically think I could pull it off. I was a terrible liar.

“I just saw the most amazing musical, and I have to take you. Can you come, please?”

“I don’t know,” I stalled. He and I both knew my parents wouldn’t let me go, but I longed to see him again. I had to see him again.

I wracked my brain for an idea. Could I disobey a direct order from my parents? I didn’t know what they would do if they found out.

“What show is it?” I asked.

“Once on This Island,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” The words rushed out of his mouth with excitement. “I know you’ll love it! Please, can I take you? I already bought two tickets.”

I could hear him smiling over the phone. I missed that smile.

“Let me see if I can get a ride.” I paused. I wanted to say more but I was afraid, afraid we would get caught and afraid of my own feelings. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I miss you,” I added quietly.

“I miss you too,” he replied.

I hung up the phone and slumped down onto my bed.

A single tear slipped down my cheek as I wondered what to do. More than anything, I wanted to see the show with Jesse. I wanted to spend tomorrow night and every night after with him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

But I wasn’t allowed to ever see him again.