Author's note: The names of the boys and their families have been changed to protect their privacy.

Part IX

       Our trip went off without a hitch.  We stopped at Santa Claus Lane where we took pictures on the railroad tracks, drank milkshakes and visited the familiar places I'd been with Jason.

        We were about to go to the top of the tower by the Santa Barbara City Hall when Carl mentioned he was a bit nervous.  Since we'd already been to the BonAventure hotel and its glass elevators, I didn't know where the trepidation came from.

        The tower is high off the ground and although there is a railing to keep one from falling, I suppose a young mind could conjure up images of falling to the pavement.  We rode the rickety elevator to the top where we were greeted by the metal steps which lead to the viewing area.  Carl slowly climbed each one and as the views of Santa Barbara appeared, he took a deep breath and
bravely entered the patio.  He soon forgot his nervousness and enjoyed the spectacular view.

        Another important function of a mentor is to help a child through their fears and I suppose this was our first test.  It's important Carl know I would never put him in danger, no matter what we do, and if he trusts me he'll overcome what apprehensions he might feel and try something
new.  I could have emphasized how he would surely regret not seeing the views from the tower, as a way to coax him up, but this would not have accomplished anything.

        As we drove home from our full day, Carl fell asleep.  Thank goodness for the CD player to keep me company on the long trip back to his house.

        I suppose life is full of tests and so are mentor relationships. You never know when the tough exams are going to occur, but when they do it can catch you off guard. For Carl and me, it happened on the first Sunday of November, 1995.

        UCLA's basketball team has an annual fan appreciation day and I invited Carl to join me, a friend from school and another student for the festivities.  What should have been a fun afternoon, filled with basketball and good times turned into a disaster which could have sidelined our mentoring experience forever.

        The day began fine.  I picked up Carl and the other boy and we headed to West Los Angeles to get my friend.  Carl fancied having another person close to his age accompany us to the event.  It gave him someone to hang with.

        We arrived at UCLA, ready to soak up the sports entertainment and go hoarse cheering on the college basketball players.  And then my friend bought the other boy an expensive souvenir shirt.  Carl wanted one also, but he did not have enough money and I wasn't prepared to buy it for him.  Immediately he shut down, sunk into his seat and closed out all avenues of communication.

        I started to get angry and frustrated.   My friend suggested we buy the shirt and get on with the day.  Carl had a few dollars and she volunteered to pay the difference.  Money was not the issue, I told her.  At the very least I wanted Carl to talk to me and try to understand he isn't always going to get everything he desires; but he did not respond to a word I said.

        I faced a small dilemma  I didn't want to ruin the day for the other boy and eventually caved in and bought him the shirt.  I regret that choice to this day.  What lesson had been learned?  Carl did not speak until he had his way.  Once he had the shirt on, he bubbled with excitement for the remainder of our time at UCLA.  I simply did not know what to do at that moment.

        On the way back to his house, I quietly told him this kind of behavior would not be acceptable and he would have to talk with me instead of closing himself off. The key word is trust and even though we'd only been together a few months, I hoped he would quickly understand this.  We ended up having a nice talk about his family and I learned a little more about his life. 

        As we drove down Compton Avenue towards his home, we passed L.A.Cities in Schools and I mentioned I'd see him there on Thursday for our regular meeting. Then he said he'd be camping that day with his other mentor and some friends.

        I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach.  He had neglected to tell me this and if I hadn't said anything about our upcoming meeting, I would have been waiting a long time for him to show up.

        This news, coupled with the earlier events of the day drained me.  I took him home and spoke with Barbara Jean.  She understood my position and apologized but I left her house feeling a little sad.

       I drove home with the music off, trying to decide if I needed to find another boy to mentor.  I was torn between wanting to give back to Carl and the desire for a one to one relationship.

        I decided to call the one person who would be able to guide me, Leon Watkins.  I asked Leon if he would speak with Barbara Jean and explain my desire to have a one on one mentorship or none at all.

        I don't know what made me decide on a hard line approach, but at the moment that felt like the way to go.  He followed through and told me what I already knew; this other person was important to Carl and I would have to decide what I wanted to do.

        I called Barbara Jean and arranged to speak with her and Carl.  I always said communication is important and now I had to follow my own advice.  When I arrived at their home a few days later, Carl sensed I was upset and sat on the couch quietly, waiting for me to speak.  I softly and somewhat passionately explained my conflict.  I wanted to be with Carl and did not wish to see him give up his other friend.  I only asked for him to inform me if something came up so we could reschedule our meetings.  I told Carl I enjoyed hearing him talk of his trips with the other man and their friends.  However, in order for us to stay together, I would once again need a commitment from him regarding our mentorship.

        While I spoke, I could see the weight lift off his shoulders as he relaxed and smiled.  We shook hands, vowed to try again and I left.  On the way back to the freeway I spotted Leon's car in the parking lot of the office.  I stopped and went inside to talk with him.  I needed a mentor myself at this moment and Leon filled the role perfectly.

        I will always cherish the talk the two of us had that late afternoon.  We reminded ourselves about the joys and tribulations of working with youth, our commitments to helping them better their lives and our dedication to every child who walked through those office doors.

        I felt better as I drove home.  It's true I would have to start thinking of what Carl desired as well as what I wanted out of our mentoring.  My sense of commitment had been altered a little, but Leon's wonderful words of wisdom knocked me back on track.  What I was doing came from my heart and he simply reminded me of my mission.

        While all this occurred, I still found myself thinking of Jason and one day was pleasantly surprised when I arrived home and found a message from him on my answering machine.  He called with his phone number and I immediately called him.

        He said things were going well at his new home and that he was adjusting to school.  He still had trouble making right choices when it came to altercations and got suspended for fighting.  But he sounded good and I enjoyed our conversation.

        It's always a challenge to get information from a child, so I embellished Jason's answers and asked leading questions so I could truly understand how he felt.

        We decided we'd see each other at Christmas time and I hung up with a wonderful sense of happiness.  I knew he was still alive and his life was going in a forward, albeit, shaky direction.

        "Make the right choices" were my closing remarks to Jason.