Stephen Odzer

Stephen Odzer had always imagined his first job would be something significant. His mom had told him that with his speaking ability he should be President and with his writing ability - a speech writer for himself. With abilities in everything under the sun, he found it hard to believe what he was doing for work at this moment. His mom always had been his biggest fan. The sound of the basketball hitting the wooden surface of the gym floor reverberated around the locker room. The smell of sweat clung to the air like clean clothes on an outdoor line, except the smell was anything but clean. It looked like the players had ended their game and dropped their clothes and towels where they stood. Stephen’s mind traveled back to a conversation with his father. “Son,” he said “You will make something of yourself. It won’t be because you’re smart, because we all know that’s not true. You have my work ethic, Son. That’s how you’ll make it.” He hated that conversation, but he always replayed it on days like this. Some kids went through college because they were smart. Some got through because they could play ball. He got through, because he could scrub toilets? It didn’t make sense. He knew it wasn’t right. The toilet wand hung in Stephen Odzer's right hand, the cleaner in his left. The sun was bright as it rose above the hills in the distance and fell on his sheets. The warmth of it made him want to stay in bed, but it was time for him to do what he loved. Thankfully, the Friday game was done, and he could enjoy Saturday in the library. The learner in him itched to go read the journals and write about what he learned. Maybe no one would ever read them, but he knew they were good. Stephen Odzer somehow had always been the little man. He was the one the teacher congratulated on the A, but somehow the one with the witty remarks became the class president. He didn’t get it, but he knew he just needed to keep doing what he was good at. Sitting down to the long library table with a stack of journals and his coffee was the best thing he could imagine right then. On the top of the stack, the journal headline made him catch his breath. “Presidential Speech Writer Resigns” The words on the page seemed to come out at him like they were alive as he picked up the paper to read. He could not imagine anyone not wanting to write speeches for the President of the United States. In the back of his mind, Stephen Odzer couldn’t help but wish he could take that man’s place, but who was he? His thought patterns squelched his excitement of Saturday morning in the library, but he decided to stay and finish the journals. Monday morning classes arrived, and for some reason there seemed to be an excitement in the air that he had never felt in the past on entering his journalism class. There was a concentration that had never been there either. Everyone sat looking at their screens working on something. He wasn’t late. He looked up at the board and saw what held the students captive. An announcement was there that should get a journalist’s attention: “Future Presidential Speech Writer Contest.” This seemed a little odd. Since when did the President go to colleges to look for a speech writer. I guess it happens when the State of the Union is a week away and his speech writer resigns. Stephen decided then and there that he was going to be the next writer for the President. The State of the Union would be his. The classroom was too cramped for such a major project, and his teacher never cared if he skipped. She knew he worked outside of the classroom as well as in it. So what was the state of this Union? The research began. Looking back over his year of writing, he had a pretty good representation of the state of these United States. He had all major decisions from the President and some controversial issues as well. Stephen could almost hear the sound of his mother’s voice, “I knew you had it in you Stephen. You always have been the smartest one of all of us.”