In a blaze of fire and fury, sparks ascend while the two boys, way in over their heads, scramble to extinguish the flames. Embers flicker out of existence. Hay lies scorched on the earth and free spirits remain suspended in the smoke.
“I wanna live a life that’s not necessarily expected,” senior Nathan Thomas said. “But I actually don’t think I’d be anything like I am, not at all, if some things were different.”
A life in the moment, free of unnecessary worry holds a particular appeal for Thomas. Sometimes living by a principle of adventure means taking part in venturesome activities, like burning down a grandparent’s shed, or fooling around with fellow Boy Scouts. But what really cultivated this life of spontaneity, according to Thomas, materialized from a lack of siblings. Existence as the only kid in the house has its drawbacks for Thomas, the inescapable boredom that accompanies family vacations, the absence of a familial companionship. But for all the things he has missed out on, Thomas largely enjoys the only-child life.
“You’re not really competing with anybody, you’re not competing for your parents love or anything, you really got nothing to be afraid of,” Thomas said. “You can just express yourself however you want.”
Expression has become the key to contentment for a kid who, for a large part of his life, kept to himself. Not many people can successfully make the switch from introversion, video games and glasses, to burnt down sheds, frisbee with the boys and refusal to even put in contact lenses. For Thomas, the switch came naturally as a result of relationships with other, more nonfictional members of kin.
“I feel like my grandparents really had a lot of influence on who I became,” Thomas said. “And they’re like really radical old people.”
As intrepid as the family line may seem, life sometimes requires a dialing back of adrenaline and a healthy dose of realism keeps things in perspective, something that Thomas too learned from his grandparents. All the thrill in the world couldn’t deter his grandfather from opening up a can of existentialism, a conversation that Thomas still remembers in vivid detail but has learned to manage in his own way.
“It’s not necessarily peaceful not knowing what’s coming,” Thomas said. “But if you always knew what’s coming next there would be no fun.”
Fun, the name of the game.
But the game won’t last forever.
And while most people seem to obsess over what happens after the buzzer, Thomas feels most interested in what happens before the final score lights up the board.
“I don’t really care how I’m remembered, it’s not about that,” Thomas said. “It’s about, as I’m on my deathbed, will I regret what I did or what I didn’t do?”
