T.O.M.

This essay has reached the finals of Growlife Medical's 2023 Annual Essay Competition, with this year's theme being "Strong Family Bonds.

Tobias Olaff Mateusz was a handsome young man. Well-built, well-spoken, with the lushest bunch of sun-kissed curls always cut to the latest fashion, he was Mr Popular in every meaning of this word. All girls wanted to hang out with him, which lead to the dramatic improvement of hygiene at our school. All boys wanted to be him, which increased popularity of our music program and the outdoor education, despite the Perth’s heat. The teachers at our school, too, believed he was a bit of a God-sent golden boy, the honour, and a pride of our college and our local community. 

On his fourteenth’s birthday, he was admitted to a highly selective academic program at Gough Whitlam College situated in the heart of our city. That, in itself, was a remarkable achievement, and his parents were very proud of him. It was one of the highest ranked high schools in our city, and by far the most sophisticated and slick.  But it was not his intellectual faculties that really fascinated everyone about him, it was the way Tobias played music. When he spoke through his shiny saxophone, it was akin to the works of a magician, the Grand Master. His music was deep, mallow, and colourful; the jazzy sounds took you away somewhere far, into the boundless tranquillity, oblivion, separating your body from your soul. Sometimes the music was so dense, that it almost felt like you could touch it, feel it, drown in it. Sometimes it made you feel like the time had suddenly frozen, the birds stopped singing, and you no longer needed to take a breath. His music bathed you in hot and then cold and then hot, again and again. Tobi really was quite something else, if I can say so, weird and special, no doubt about that.   

He didn’t grow up in Perth’s fancy suburbs of the Golden Triangle, and the word on the block had it that his parents came from a humble South-east Asian or even Mediterranean background who did not always have jobs or enough money to get by. Yet, Tobias always looked trendy and cool, dressed to the latest fashion, expensive Italian shoes, designer polos, latest gadgets, and a golden watch which had its own name. His watch was called, Vacheron Konstantin. Tobias used to tell his mates that it means Cassio, in Swiss, but when they looked it up, it turned out to be a lot more expensive than the latest edition of the platinum Rolex, covered in diamonds. It was worth a small fortune, heaps more expensive than the car his mother drove to pick him up from school sometimes. It made no sense for a school lad to own it. We all wondered where did he get it from? But that, really, was none of our business, and since he was not forthcoming with any meaningful explanation, we just moved on accepting things as they were. 

One day we came to school to discover that due to the severe storms that happened overnight in Subiaco and its surroundings, one of our school’s music rooms got badly flooded. Lots of instruments were damaged that night, and some of our music classes were turned into a vocal ensemble instead. We didn’t really mind that, to be honest, especially since it happened just before our winter holidays, and everybody was exhausted and needed a bit of a break. Our musical instruments were sent to the specialised shops somewhere in Osborne Park for repairs. Some instruments came back making a decent sound, others needed a complete replacement. Tobias’ saxophone was one of them. 

After holidays we all came back to school feeling fresh and energised. Some kids were sharing stories about their holidays, others about their sporting competitions, computer games, snapchat, movies. New goss was coming from every corner of the schoolyard at a steady pace. A week went by quickly, but we noticed that Tobi did not return to school after the break. He must have gone overseas, we thought, playing his saxophone somewhere fancy. Maybe Paris, Tokyo or Moscow? We missed those tunes. There was nobody else at the school, or maybe even in the whole world, who could play music and touch our hearts in the way he did. So, we waited and waited, every day coming up with new destinations for his concerts. We imagined grand theatres full of people dressed in tuxedos and expensive jewellery, luxurious cars, red carpet, standing ovations. Yes, he was that good. 

One day he returned to school, but it was not the same guy that we knew and admired. Skinny and quiet, he now mostly kept to himself, avoiding schoolyard gatherings and our usual hangout locations in Mueller Park and Rokeby Road. He was still very polite, and did well in his subjects, but he no longer really stood out. He no longer attended our school ensemble either but continued to take one-on-one lessons with Mrs Sailor during most of our lunchbreaks and recesses. 

Mrs Sailor was a lovely old-school music teacher, well-spoken, generous and kind. In her deep green eyes, many of us found a lot of understanding and forgiveness, for the lost homework, for playing out of tune and for the forgotten notes. She loved music. She lived music. She breathed it. In fact, she was the one who admired musical talent the most. She never missed a single lesson where Tobias played and made sure that his pretty face featured on most of our promotional booklets, and concert invitations. 

Mrs Sailor was in charge of our school’s music department from day dot and spent most of her spare time attending her student’s concerts and raising a little bit of money for the Grand Piano, which the school could never afford to buy. Everybody loved good old Mrs Sailor, and Mrs Sailor loved everybody back. 

The last two years of school have passed by with a speed of a sound. We graduated gracefully, making our principal and our teachers very proud indeed. Some of us went to Uni, others took a bit of a break and went traveling, some of our mates joined family businesses or went to learn a trade. Everybody happy in their own way, we continued to hangout on every first Friday of each school semester in our traditional hang out spots in Subiaco. A lot of news was exchanged during those glorious gatherings. This was how we all discovered that our old Mrs Sailor had suddenly lost her family home in Floreat. Nobody really knew what happened, but the rumour had it that she was offered a place in the Subi retirement village, but politely declined the offer. Some folks were saying that she is now living in a little music room at school, the same room that was once flooded after the storm. It was the same room where Tobi’s saxophone got damaged and some of our violins bid farewell to their unlucky little owners forever. 

One year later a terrible thing happened. Most of our old school mates gathered once again, for the last time, to say goodbye to Tobias Olaff Mateusz, who took his own life at the sweet age of nineteen. It was then when we discovered what really happened to Tobias and Mrs Sailor and how incredibly fragile is our life and the world around us. 

Tobias Mateusz discovered his musical talent early in his life. He was growing up craving recognition, spending hours upon hours learning music and playing on his saxophone, working and studying around the clock. He soon realised that to go places, and to be invited to perform in top orchestras in the country he needed a serious upgrade to his old instrument, and an even more serious upgrade to his appearance and style. 

He made his first hundred dollars by correctly predicting the outcome of the epic footy games between Fremantle Dockers and Adelaide Crows where the crazy goalkeeper’s save denied the Crows a victory in the last seconds on the game. From there he went on placing even money bets in online casinos, using the Fibonacci sequence, the theory of probability and the Golden Ratio to win a small fortune. We recalled that he gave us a presentation one day at school during maths, explaining how you can always win if you use this betting system appropriately, and always follow the rules. We didn’t believe him at that time, or maybe we just didn’t care to find out. Anyway, he proceeded to gamble until one day he got carried away and suddenly lost ninety thousand dollars, in one go. He was devastated. To repay the debt, and to keep things quiet, he sold all he could in his house, including his mum’s wedding ring, and grandfathers war medals. But even that was not enough. Somehow, he managed to borrow money from the local bikie gang, and after he made another big loss and couldn’t return the loan, the gang threatened to kill his family. That was around the time when he returned to school looking pale and skinny. 

You would never believe who came to his rescue and had thrown him a lifeline in the time of despair. It was our good old Mrs Sailor, of course. She admired Tobias so much, and had such a big heart, that she decided to sell her own family home in Floreat and gave all her money to Tobias so that he could repay his debt once and for all. She made him promise that he would never set foot in any casino and would continue to play music. 

Tobias cried for many weeks in disbelief. He promised her the world, he promised that he would continue playing saxophone, and use his music to change our world for a better place. He spent all of his lunch breaks studying music with Mrs Sailor. 

Mrs Sailor, God bless her soul, had always truly believed in Tobias, and never regretted her decision, even after the music room became her only home, until one day, a year or so after he graduated, she spotted Tobias in Perth’s Crown Casino, gambling away his organs because as it was, he had nothing else left. 

Tobias saw her that night but did not even say hello to her. He hated her for catching him out, he hated her for knowing his secrets and weaknesses, he hated her for always appearing in his life in the moment of distress. A part of Mrs Sailor’s heart went numb that night, forever. 

What happened to Tobias after that? Well, Tobias must have lost another fortune or gambled away his own organs or something like that. All we know is that when he returned home that night, he hanged himself in his small shabby bedroom, leaving behind a little note requesting for his only treasured possession, his prized Vacheron Konstantin, to be exchanged for a Grand Piano and delivered to Mrs Sailor’s music department at the school. 

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