“Don’t you ever get tired of being someone you’re not?” Jessica asked. “You know, your whole job is to just look like a character from some movie and act like he acts.” She smirked. “I know I would never want that job.”
Martin sighed. It is true, he thought. People came up and got their picture with him at some movie theme park because he looked like the actor who played action hero Thomas Page, an accountant by day, and super-spy by night. It was uncanny, his striking resemblance to Page. People had been telling him it for years.
Martin had moved to southern Florida four years previously to attend college, and the theme park was the perfect job. Work two nights during weekdays, as well as Saturday and Sunday, and the pay was phenomenal. However, the park wanted him for more than just that. He was as big a spectacle as some of the rides. So Martin dropped out of college and worked every Tuesday-Sunday at the park. The pay was even better, but he wondered how long he could go on imitating someone else.
“Well, it’s just temporary. Until I find something else” Martin responded. “Plus, you can’t beat the money. I’m making more than half the managers around here.”
“True, but you’re not going to look like Thomas Page forever, you know. What then? What are you gonna do then?” Jessica said.
“I…I think…I…I’ll figure it out,” he replied. Martin looked at his watch. “Listen, I have to be by the Desert Midnight ride in ten. I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, see ya Martin.”
-
“Can I talk to you for a few minutes, Martin?” Mr. Reaver said. It was three weeks later, and Martin was walking into the men’s employee locker room to get changed into his Page outfit.
“Sure, what’s up?” Martin felt comfortable with his boss. He knew Mr. Reaver appreciated a hard working employee like Martin, and park attendance had gone up due to Martin’s appearances at different events around the park. This was sure to be more good news.
“Martin, we finally got the approval for a Thomas Page show at the Cave of Fear arena. The exec’s want you to star in shows at 5:30 and 7 p.m. every night,” Mr. Reaver said, with a satisfied look on his face. “This is a big deal. People will be lining up. The new Page movie comes out in a few months, and they want the show to be ready on the night of the premiere. It’s gonna be huge.” He smiled. “How ‘bout it?”
“Wow, of course, I mean, yeah, that sounds great! Perfect.” Martin was excited. His own show! “When do we start rehearsals?”
“Next week. The script is finished, and it’s being staged right now.” Mr. Reaver replied. “The stunts are minimal, and we want you to do your own stunts, so it’s authentic. Is that alright?”
“Of course it is!” Martin replied.
“I knew you’d be in.”
-
Driving home that night, Martin couldn’t stop thinking about the show. I’m basically being paid to be the real Thomas Page, he thought. This is big for me. I’m finally becoming who I’m supposed to be. My own show.
-
For the next few months, Martin attended rehearsals, fight and stunt lessons, and acting classes on top of his regular park duties and appearances. At nights he watched the Page movies (all seven of them) and memorized mannerisms and dialogue. He wanted to be sure to deliver each line just like Page would.
-
On the opening night of the show, Martin was anxious with excitement.
“You’ll be great, you’re totally prepared,” Jessica said reassuringly.
“Yeah, I am. We all are, it’s gonna be the best,” Martin replied. He did feel confident.
During the shows that night, the audience gasped with wonder, screamed with fright, and cheered with amazement in all the right places. Martin’s stunts were flawless, and the delivery of his lines was spot on. Everything was perfect.
After the show, nearly 200 people stayed to take pictures with Martin. Wow, he thought. This is bigger than I thought. They loved it. They loved me.
-
The shows continued and seemed bigger every night. Martin basked in the growing fame. Park guests came in throngs just to see the shows and see this man who looked and acted just like Thomas Page. Martin had never been so popular. The park executives were thrilled with Martin and gave him raise after raise, and more and more perks.
Martin’s co-worker’s started calling the park Pageland, because that seemed to be the only thing people wanted to see anymore. Park guests went crazy to see Martin, to get a picture with him, his autograph. The park even offered a weekly “Win a Date with Thomas Page” contest for a lucky female guest. The only catch was that Martin had to act like Page the entire dinner. He didn’t mind. He was who he was.
Martin also patterned everything about his life after Page: his hairstyle, clothes, even his handwriting. Outside of work, Martin started reading books about accounting, bird watching, and how to woo women, because these were a few of the things Page had extensive knowledge about. In public, people would stare at Martin and eventually approach him for a picture or autograph. I don’t need to be at the park to get attention, he thought. Everyone loves me wherever I go.
-
When Martin got to his apartment after another successful night at work, his iPhone rang (company gift, of course). It was his Mom.
“So how have the performances been going, honey?” she asked.
“Oh, it’s been the best. There are always hundreds of people just waiting to take their picture with me; they love it.”
“That’s so great, Martin,” she replied.
Martin, he thought. Woh – that’s me. At his request, nobody had called him Martin in the past few months; he really wanted to become Page and get into the part.
She continued, “I know you’ve put a lot of work into this. You’re a hard working man.”
“Well, it’s taken a lot of time, but it has really been worth it. I feel…like…like I’m doing the right thing. This has really been more than I ever thought it would be.”
“Yes, well, you’re turning into quite the actor!” She paused, and then spoke more seriously, “I’m proud of you, son. I want you to be happy.”
He paused. “I am. I have all I need…thanks.” There was another pause. Longer though. “Hey listen,” he continued, “I’m pretty tired. I better get going.”
When he got off the phone, Martin realized he was looking in the mirror.
What an empty life that would be. An interesting thought... how often, how many people actually do this to some degree? (trying to form themselves in the image of an "idol," trying to find fame and squeeze themselves into some kind of role).
ReplyDeleteI agree with nosurfgirl. There are huge numbers of people on this planet who spend their days trying to imitate some star as completely as possible. I see it in our jr high and high school every day. Wouldn't it be great if everyone could just be themselves at all times. What a great story!
ReplyDeleteGood story! Makes you think. We spend so many years trying to look and act exactly like everyone else, so we won't stand out, but at the same time we say we are trying to express ourselves and be different.
ReplyDeleteBut who are we, really? Who was Martin, really? Sometimes I wonder when I am really myself. With my family? In public? Maybe Martin truly found himself because he found something that made him feel like people loved him. Okay, probably not. He should have listened to Jessica.
Great story. Fast-moving and thought-provoking. Well done.
ReplyDeleteA good story that teaches.
ReplyDeleteIt's interesting, the idea of "trying to be someone"--it kind of points to "someone" defined as some already established person (it has to be someone else, not one's self, since who one is doesn't "exist" yet) functioning as a model--how else would one know what or who to try and be? This story for me points to this paradox: to be someone you have to be someone else. (The escape, of course, is to lose yourself to find yourself.)
(The story also is kind of frightening from a political point of view--giving "made up" public figures real power.)
A nice ending: looking in a mirror and not just looking, but realizing you are looking at yourself in the mirror.
Unfortunately, I fear I've been like Martin many times in my life. I have noticed how chameleon-like I can be. I know we all do this to some extent- try to match our surroundings, relate to the different groups of people we interact with- but I sometimes find myself literally mimicking physical things. Like how someone holds their mouth when they talk, or how a laugh sounds. Ryan knows if I've been talking to my Mom on the phone for a while because I speak a little differently for a while. And don't even get me started on how long it takes me to get back to normal after spending a few hours with my girlfriends. It's embarrassing!
ReplyDeleteI wonder what I'd be like if I was all alone in the forest for years with no one to imitate. Maybe I would be really "tree-like."
Wonderful story Ryan!