My friend who has been on the lam from local law enforcement- somewhere far out of state, out west I believe, for many years now- reached out for the first time in quite a while. I had been thinking of him in the weeks prior. Hoping he was still alive. Figuring one of these days the random messages will stop coming and he’ll be another closed chapter in my life’s story.
On Christmas, of course. Always from a new account, but I’ve come to read the signs that it’s him:
“Merry Christmas, Old Friend. Hug your mother and your family for me, brother. Love you guys always.”
This guy Kevin recently moved into my old neighborhood, a block away from my mother, and two blocks down from our work shop. He’s a year older than me, and I think he’s a piece of shit.
I only ever talked to him once, and that was in high school, in 9th grade, when my buddy- the one currently on the lam- had gotten himself into some trouble, and I was partially involved. Kevin approached me in art class, a class freshmen shared with sophomores, and asked me to regale him with the tale. So I did, no big deal.
Kevin was tall and decently built, and looked a lot like a less attractive french Jude Law with a big flat nose and blonde Jonathon Taylor Thomas hair parted down the middle and down below his eyebrows for the bowl cut. He was popular by virtue of being rich, and an asshole. With a surprisingly nasally voice, and this permanent ‘grossed out surfer’ look of contempt on his face.
In 9th grade I had three primary friends, from radically different social groups. There was my buddy The Lam, who was extremely intelligent and charismatic, though also extremely machiavellian and poor- he lived out on a horse farm with two mean teachers for parents and a ton of siblings. Later in life he would tell me that he glommed on to me early on because I was one of the more popular kids in the school (at the time) and he needed to climb the social ladder. Personality wise, he was our school’s version of Fonzie. Removed, but deeply respected.
One of my other good friends was Tyler still, who had been my friend all through grade school and middle school. My puberty partner. He was a bit like Kevin-lite. Similar cocky attitude and Jonathon Brandis bob, but a friend. We would chase girls together (on our bicycles, with broken 12 year old voices) and do other ‘active’ type things. Adventures. Sports. Classic boy stuff.
And then there was Gary, my best friend to this day, and someone I had begun hanging out with more and more at the expense of everyone else, since the year prior when we met poolside, after both forgetting our bathing suits on the same day. The hour of forced proximity and chit chat revealed much that we had in common, and we’ve been inseparable since. Gary was the nerd of the school, at the time, and routinely bullied by people like Kevin.
I remember having the three of them over for my birthday one year, which was awkward as they all hated each other- especially Tyler and Gary, but Gary also hated The Lam with a passion, and the Lam didn’t really care for both as well- though he tolerated Tyler more.
Shortly after telling Kevin my tale of what happened to The Lam (he was ALWAYS getting in trouble, well before he went to prison the first time), I happened to be walking through the large common area on the way to class, and I saw a group of people giving audience to Kevin who was performing wildly with his back to me, a version of ME- like in the sponge bob meme style- making fun of the way I talk, and the way I just told the story he asked about. With lots of “What a DORK! what a LOSER!” type remarks, laughing at his own superiority, while everyone he was performing for laughed back to him in response.
And in that laugh, Tyler looked past and saw me. Saw that I saw what was happening. I watched his eyes kind of go dead with shame, but his mouth and the rest of his face kept pace with the crowd he was in. Like he felt bad a bit, but didn’t want to say anything. It was just a glance, but I’ll never forget it. I kept walking, and I don’t think Kevin ever knew that I overheard him making fun of me to a group of kids I had known for years.
Spending so much time with Gary, at that point, was beginning to open me up to a bit of the bullying he received- but that moment was the worst of it. For the most part, my old reputation and continued close relationship with The Lam carried me- and had the positive effect of pulling Gary out of ‘get bullied all the time’ territory, at least a little. The Lam would mock Gary, but didn’t actually hate him- Gary absolutely hated The Lam though, so there was no chance of friendship there.
I never talked to Kevin again after that moment. And I never talked to Tyler after that either. Our friendship dissolved on the spot, right there, like a snowflake in water. I wouldn’t even add him of Facebook in 2025 if he popped up. He betrayed me, by not speaking up, or at the very least by laughing along while I watched. I might have let it slide, were it not for The Lam.
There were three instances that I remember in being bullied. By a boy named Nick, who was also extremely intelligent and nasty- who I don’t care for to this day, but also don’t revile the way I do Kevin- a woman named Barb, at the picnic tables down at the beach on a warm summer vacation day- and The Lam’s own older brother.
On all three occasions he stood up for me, immediately. Inserted himself into the conversation like a Wall and went on offense with his savage wit and dark humor, picking them apart and dressing them down in whatever context they tried with me. Even when we were just kids he knew instinctually that the best defense is always More Offense.
BARB: “You’re kind of a dork, aren’t you?”
LAM: “Well he hasn’t fucked half of the town at least, I can say that. How’s Randy, Barb? How’s HE doing?”
Maybe it was deliberate. He is machiavellian, and possibly a sociopath, as I mentioned. But he earned a lifetime of loyalty from me for it. I send him money a lot. It’s probably illegal, and I maybe I could get in trouble for it, but I don’t care. I try to be someone who shows up for people, even people who can’t show up for anyone themselves. But for the extremely rare people who actually show up for ME?
You would have to kill me to stop me from supporting them.
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