*This story is a excerpt from Jake Shapiro’s MFA Thesis at San Francisco State University*
Craig wakes up. Posters cover his walls. All of his heroes are staring at him. He gets up and puts on a t-shirt before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. His dad turns to him, hearing his footsteps approaching. “Big day today, bud,” his father says to him. “You wouldn’t by chance want to go?” Craig’s eyes light up. His smile covers his face. “Are you serious?” His dad just smiles back. Craig runs up and hugs his dad around the waist.
“I thought we could go early, see if we can get an autograph.”
“Oh that would be so cool!” You think we’ll be able to meet her?”
“We can sure try.”
Craig scarfs down his breakfast and runs back to his room. He stares at one of his posters, Adebimpe Aguta Awolowo. To think, he could actually meet her today. He went to his desk and pulled out his binder of trading cards and pulled Adebimpe’s out. He opened his top desk drawer and pulled out his colored pencils and began drawing the card. Maybe she would sign it?
Knock. Knock. Knock. His dad appears in the doorway.
“Hey, you ready? If we go now we can get a better chance for that autograph.” Craig throws his shoes on and grabs a hat and zooms past his dad.
When they arrived, there were already around twenty people waiting outside. They joined the crowd. Craig looked up at his dad. Excitement poured out of him. People had signs and jerseys, waiting patiently for an autograph, a photo at least.
A few hours passed. The hot dog they bought on the street giving Craig the sustenance to keep standing, hoping. A car pulled up and Adebimpe, dressed in a white button up, black tie, baggy black pants, black and white vans, a black bomber jacket, with black Gucci glasses. You could see her stardom. Well, Craig couldn’t. He got on his tippy-toes, moved his head side to side trying to find a window through the crowd. She began walking through the parted sea of people. Stopping to sign posters and jerseys. She was slowly making her way to Craig who was near the door. He stuck out the card he drew. “Adebimpe! Adebimpe! Over here!” Her head turned towards him and saw Craig, arm out with the card and walked towards him. “You drew this?” She held the card, her cheeks moved towards her ears. “Will you sign it?” Craig blurted out.
“Front or back?”
“Front.”
She took her pen and signed it. Craig looked back towards his dad and back to Adebimpe. “Can I take a picture with you with it,” she asked. Craig’s head nodded ferociously. His dad handed Adebimpe a phone. She bent down and posed next to Craig, who was holding the signed drawing. “What’s your name?
“Craig.”
“Alright Craig. I’ll make a drawing of your card and have you sign it when you’re here in a few years.” She gave the phone back and walked through the doors.
A few hours later, they started letting people into the gallery.