Page 7 of Out of Bounds

"Yes, I guess so. I suppose we could make a start on that interview today?" I tentatively ask, trying not to push my luck too much.

"I'm game but remember that I told you it would be on my terms."

"Yes. I remember. And what does that mean, exactly?"

"It means for every two questions you ask me, you'll have to answer one of mine."

What? Why?!

"I'm doing an exclusive on you, Mr. Edison ... not the other way around."

"It's Jesse, and those are my terms. It's up to you. But I don't think it'll look good on your record if you fail your first assignment ... especially when I was within your grasp." He looks at me again, grinning, his beautiful dark brown eyes twinkling with mischief.

I want to punch that silly grin off his beautiful face.

He steps closer and smiles. "You look pretty when you blush."

"Who's blushing?" I shift uneasily beneath his gaze. "Fine ... we can do that.” I say, standing straight and trying to establish my position as the confident and professional journalist I know I am. “I'll just grab my pen and paper."

"How about we see Hal off first? Besides, I’ll need a shower after my run, before we begin." Jesse says looking at the stairs as Hal comes down with his bag.

"Let's see you off to the airport. I'll give you a ride."

"It’s fine. My office sent a car. He’s here now."

I look out the window and notice a black estate car on the driveway. Hal hugs me and shakes Jesse's hand before leaving.

***

An hour later, Jesse and I are seated in the dining room. I'm holding a pen and writing pad. I turn on my recorder.

"Wait." He says placing his hand on mine. "We do this off the record."

"This is standard procedure and ..."

"My terms, remember?"

I sigh and turn the recorder off. "Ok. First question, Jesse. Tell me about yourself."

"Oh, you’ll have to do better than that. Why don’t you dig a little deeper? Don’t you want to know what makes me … tick?"

My patience is starting to recede. He isn’t going to make this at all easy for me. I can see his resolve and I wish, for the umpteenth time, that I had been given another assignment. "Ok. Tell me about your childhood.” Jesse raises an eyebrow at me. “Look, the point of this is for people to find out about the real you."

"Ok, well. Let’s see. My name is Jesse Nicholas Edison and I'm from Chicago, Illinois. I grew up in Chicago before moving to New York at the age of 15." This information tells me nothing about him whatsoever. He’s right, I need to dig deeper …

"What about your parents? Did they motivate you to play basketball or ..."

"My parents are dead. My mom died giving birth to me and my dad ..." His voice breaks. He shakes his head as if remembering something painful and continues. "I was adopted. I grew up in foster care."

"I'm sorry ... I didn't know." I genuinely am. I wonder why Hal never told me? I presume Hal knows this about his best friend. This is the first time I’ve seen this side to Jesse. He’s vulnerable but yet obliging me with this intimate detail about his life, despite never giving interviews. Why now? Why me?! This is big. This is huge!

"It's fine. Lots of people don't and I would have liked to keep it that way. I was left in an orphanage with nothing but a name written on a piece of paper. Jesse. When I was two, a couple adopted me. I lived with them for a while but it was a pretty rough household.

"Childcare services took me away from the home when I was five and sent me to live with the nicest couple you could ever wish to meet, Mr. and Mrs. David Edison. He was a huge basketball fan with tons of basketball gear and pictures of Wilt Chamberlain and Larry Bird all over the house.” Jesse smiles and looks down at his hands as he reminisces about his childhood. He looks up at me and continues. “My parents always encouraged me to play. I have always loved basketball and they could see that I had a natural flare for it. They would give up their weekends to drive me to matches, support me at every game. After my first match, I never looked back. I have my adoptive parents to thank for all of it. They helped me become the man I am today.”

"Wow ... that's ... amazing." Hal was right. I didn't expect this. The way his eyes teared up when he spoke of them was so endearing. But why didn't he want people to know the real him?

I probe carefully, asking about his journey in basketball, the challenges he faced, and the moments that defined him. Slowly, the veneer of the guarded celebrity begins to fade and I see him differently. We talk for hours. I'm grateful for everything he’s revealed. Yet, I want to know more.

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