Diego was up to his elbows and beyond in shit, human shit. Some of the jocks had flushed a few rubber condoms down the john in the gym, creating a major blockage and overflow of muck. The chief janitor, Rudy, gave the job of clearing it to the least important janitor, Diego, the Mexican who would probably not have been employed by the school, at least not on such pitiful wages, if the authorities had known of his illegal status.
Tyson and Mark walked past him, and Tyson gave him a grin: “How ya doin’ dude?” he smiled.
Not a single person at the school had ever talked to Diego as though he were a human being in his own right before, let alone the best looking, most athletic and confident student there. Diego felt his heart expand and for the rest of the week he felt happy in a way he had never known for months.
“Fine” he replied, which was not the reply to be expected of a middle aged illegal immigrant up to his elbows in human excrement with a wife and six children and a mother with terminal cancer back in Mexico. Nonetheless that is the effect Tyson’s greeting had on Diego.
Tyson looked back with another of his dazzling smiles. “Hot shit” he said, which strictly speaking was not the most tactful thing to say to a man plunging his arms into human feces. Diego however was more grateful than he had ever believed possible at Tyson’s kindness.
When Mark had modified Simon’s personality he told him to be tough and have attitude, and Tyson indeed could not give a toss as to what anyone thought of him personally. But Mark had also instructed Simon to “think black” and with his total ignorance of history and lack of any imaginative sympathy with others, Mark had not realized to what this could lead. Tyson now had a heritage of generations knowing contempt, cruelty and injustice, which could lead either to bitterness and violence, or, as had happened with Tyson, to total integrity and boundless compassion for others in need.
Simon had been as selfishly self absorbed in his interests as the jocks were in theirs. Like them, he had no interest in politics, spirituality, imaginative literature, even Tolkien, community action or even just the concerns of other people. If he had continued with his life, he would have been used by corporate America to devise and refine more and more subtle ways to ensure that people were more and more dependent on spending time and money which they hadn’t got, on activities and items which they neither needed nor enjoyed.
Tyson, by contrast, by his skill, his charm, his sex appeal and his good looks would give straightforward and honest pleasure to thousands.