"I'm Mr. Lopez and You're Mr. Ayers"

By the end of The Soloist, Steve Lopez stops calling Nathaniel by his first name and refers to him instead as "Mr. Ayers." To me, this was probably the most unsettling part of the entire book. Right up until this change, my emotional investment in the characters was at an all-time high. I'd spent over 200 pages on the roller-coaster ride with Lopez, experiencing Nathaniel's tumultuous personality as well as Lopez's desire to help.

And then they fight.

For the first time, Nathaniel lashes out personally at Lopez, telling him that he "despises him," and threatens his life if he visits LAMP again. With a few moments of unabashed shrieking, Nathaniel destroys every fiber of being inside Lopez, who stumbles to his car in a dumbfounded daze, both shocked and devastated.

After the incident, Lopez realizes that he's gotten too close to Nathaniel, who he later says should have always been called Mr. Ayers. He sees that a line was crossed, and even if it wasn't unethical or wrong, it had wreaked too much havoc on his personal life. Something had to give; his intimate relationship with Nathaniel couldn't continue as it was. He had to take a step back.

By referring to Nathaniel as Mr. Ayers for the rest of the story, the reader becomes painfully aware of the barrier Lopez has now built between himself and Nathaniel. While he still cares for Nathaniel, the friendship has changed. It's not the same--it can't be the same. A paranoid schizophrenic who refuses medication will never technically "get better." Lopez had invested too much of his emotional and physical state in a person who could stretch out a hand to shake, but strike him instead.

Even though I felt the dynamic changed with the name change, it was one of the most emotionally powerful parts of the entire novel. Lopez couldn't have symbolized the relationship's change any better. It became both painful and promising--now they could be friends, but without Lopez's emotional burden of constantly trying to "save" someone who refused to acknowledge he had a problem to begin with.