tiny makes a gesture, and suddenly everyone onstage is singing.
chorus: hold me closer, hold me closer
and i’m still standing. i’m making eye contact with the other will grayson, who looks nervous but smiles anyway. and i’m seeing a few people nod in my direction. god, i hope they’re who i want them to be.
suddenly, with a grand wave of his arms, tiny stops the music. he moves to the front of the stage and the rest of the stage goes dark. it’s just him in a spotlight, looking out into the audience. he just stands there for a moment, taking it all in. and then he closes the show by saying:
tiny: my name is tiny cooper. and this is my story.
there’s a silence then. people are waiting for the curtain to go down, for the show to definitely be over, for the ovations to start. i have less than a second. i squeeze gideon’s pinkie tight, then let go. i raise my hand.
tiny sees me.
other people in the audience see me.
I yell
me: TINY COOPER!
and that’s it.
I really hope this is going to work.
me: my name is will grayson. and i appreciate you, tiny cooper!
now everyone’s looking at me, and many of them are confused. they have no idea whether this is still part of the show.
what can i say? i’m giving it a new ending.
now this twentysomething-year-old man in a hipster vest stands up. he looks to me for a second, smiles, then turns to tiny and says
man: my name is also will grayson. i live in wilmette. and i also appreciate you, tiny cooper. cue the seventy-nine-year-old in the back row.
old guy: my name is william t. grayson, but you can call me will. and i sure as heck appreciate you, tiny cooper.
thank you, google. thank you, internet telephone directories. thank you, keepers of the name.
fortysomething woman: hi! i’m wilma grayson, from hyde park. and i appreciate you, tiny cooper.
ten-year-old boy: hey. i’m will grayson. the fourth. my dad couldn’t be here, but we both appreciate you, tiny cooper.
there should be one other. a sophomore at northwestern.
there’s a dramatic pause. everyone’s looking around.