Resurfacing
There were two middle schools in my town, and then just one high school. Richie came from the other middle school, not mine, and he hadn't been popular. He hadn't been unpopular, but he hadn't been one of the popular kids. When he arrived in ninth grade, everyone from my middle school thought he was outrageously cute and funny and nice, and we all promptly got a crush on Richie. When the girls from the other middle school realized what a diamond they'd had, they immediately all developed crushes on Richie too. He got voted school treasurer. Richie became popular overnight. For his birthday, my friend took him into the woods behind the school to give him a birthday blowjob.
Richie had two secrets though. He began working at the supermarket where I worked and that's how we became friends. One day my father drove me to work to pick up my check and Richie was there for the same reason. As he pretended to put money into the candy box he winked at me as he took a handful of candy. Exiting the office, paycheck in hand, we headed out of the supermarket together. It was pouring, and it came out that Richie was about to walk home. He lived in the opposite direction from my house.
But somehow, knowing it would be okay, I breezily said, "Oh, my dad will drive you home," and Richie followed me to the car. Leaning in, I introduced my father to him, explained he lived down near McDonalds, and asked if we could take him home so he wouldn't have to walk.
It was less than a five minute drive, and I don't remember what was talked about, except that Richie called my father sir, and I giggled (hey, I was 14, these things were funny then).
One day when we were working, I asked Richie if I could call him Dick. "Only once," he responded. I promised him I'd save the honor for a special occasion in that case.
In tenth grade I worked at Haagen Dazs. A kid named Michael also worked there, and he'd gone to Richie's middle school. He told me Richie's first secret, that his family was very poor. I never would have guessed. Partially because we lived in this upper-middle class area and barely anyone was poor, and partially because Richie and his older sister never gave any indication of being poor.
As Michael and I worked together longer, he told me Richie's second secret, which I found much more fascinating than the first - that Richie was a dancer. At some point when Richie and I were alone, I made some joke that involved some ballet words, and he laughed, but then looked at me like, "how did you know I'd know what that meant?"
Richie was actually popular enough that he could have told people he danced and not had his stock go down, but as far as I know he never did. Towards the end of 10th grade I left the high school, never to see Richie again.
About two years after graduating, I was in a composition course at a local college and ran into a boy named Andy from high school. Andy and I caught up during breaks and he told me Richie's life had gone downhill since we'd last been in touch. He'd developed a drug problem. A pretty severe one, that caused him to wind up in jail, in rehab, in a world of trouble.
Sadly, Andy showed up to class one day and told me he'd gone to the dentist for a routine checkup to be told he had a huge tumor in his jaw, and after that day I never saw him again.
Then I was working as a teacher's aide in the same high school I'd left in 10th grade, and who pops up in one of my classes, but Richie's little sister? When she walked in and told me her name I asked if Richie was her brother, and a horrible look came over her face as she confirmed. What Andy had told me came rushing back and I never brought up Richie to her again.
A few months ago, a girl I grew up with posted a photo on Facebook (where else?) that included Richie and I sent her a message, asking after him. She knew nothing. Two days ago, Richie's big sister commented on that photo. I followed her link, and there's Richie, alive and in his 30's.
There's a weird pallor to his skin now, and the light I remember being in his eyes is gone, even in pictures with family where he's clearly trying to present as happy. He just looks ... not like the same boy in ninth grade. The boy who was overwhelmed and flattered to have his own Sally Field moment, and totally ran with it and rocked it.
Richie had two secrets though. He began working at the supermarket where I worked and that's how we became friends. One day my father drove me to work to pick up my check and Richie was there for the same reason. As he pretended to put money into the candy box he winked at me as he took a handful of candy. Exiting the office, paycheck in hand, we headed out of the supermarket together. It was pouring, and it came out that Richie was about to walk home. He lived in the opposite direction from my house.
But somehow, knowing it would be okay, I breezily said, "Oh, my dad will drive you home," and Richie followed me to the car. Leaning in, I introduced my father to him, explained he lived down near McDonalds, and asked if we could take him home so he wouldn't have to walk.
It was less than a five minute drive, and I don't remember what was talked about, except that Richie called my father sir, and I giggled (hey, I was 14, these things were funny then).
One day when we were working, I asked Richie if I could call him Dick. "Only once," he responded. I promised him I'd save the honor for a special occasion in that case.
In tenth grade I worked at Haagen Dazs. A kid named Michael also worked there, and he'd gone to Richie's middle school. He told me Richie's first secret, that his family was very poor. I never would have guessed. Partially because we lived in this upper-middle class area and barely anyone was poor, and partially because Richie and his older sister never gave any indication of being poor.
As Michael and I worked together longer, he told me Richie's second secret, which I found much more fascinating than the first - that Richie was a dancer. At some point when Richie and I were alone, I made some joke that involved some ballet words, and he laughed, but then looked at me like, "how did you know I'd know what that meant?"
Richie was actually popular enough that he could have told people he danced and not had his stock go down, but as far as I know he never did. Towards the end of 10th grade I left the high school, never to see Richie again.
About two years after graduating, I was in a composition course at a local college and ran into a boy named Andy from high school. Andy and I caught up during breaks and he told me Richie's life had gone downhill since we'd last been in touch. He'd developed a drug problem. A pretty severe one, that caused him to wind up in jail, in rehab, in a world of trouble.
Sadly, Andy showed up to class one day and told me he'd gone to the dentist for a routine checkup to be told he had a huge tumor in his jaw, and after that day I never saw him again.
Then I was working as a teacher's aide in the same high school I'd left in 10th grade, and who pops up in one of my classes, but Richie's little sister? When she walked in and told me her name I asked if Richie was her brother, and a horrible look came over her face as she confirmed. What Andy had told me came rushing back and I never brought up Richie to her again.
A few months ago, a girl I grew up with posted a photo on Facebook (where else?) that included Richie and I sent her a message, asking after him. She knew nothing. Two days ago, Richie's big sister commented on that photo. I followed her link, and there's Richie, alive and in his 30's.
There's a weird pallor to his skin now, and the light I remember being in his eyes is gone, even in pictures with family where he's clearly trying to present as happy. He just looks ... not like the same boy in ninth grade. The boy who was overwhelmed and flattered to have his own Sally Field moment, and totally ran with it and rocked it.
Labels: Ejumakashun, Little Green, New York State of Mind, On the Homefront
posted by Green at 12/10/2008 08:50:00 PM
2 Comments:
i reconnected with someone from hs also recently and the things he told me made my jaw drop!
in this case, i was the poor kid. his mother was REALLY wealthy. sometime in hs (when he disappeared) he developed a drug problem, got involved in some criminal stuff and ended up in prison . . . not jail, PRISON.
there are a million reasons why and a million paths of how.
That's a beautiful, yet sad, story. Did you friend him and ask what he has been up to? Or are you just looking from afar?
This actually just reminded me, I have a similar story. There was a guy we went to junior high with that was really kind of a nerd/outcast. Suddenly he showed up freshman year SUPER hot, and suddenly popular. He drank and smoked pot, like everyone else, but nothing worse. He actually ended up going to my college, and was in my history class on the first day. After that day, he never came again. He called me a night or two before the final, asked if I could give him my notes, and of course I did. He came and picked them up wearing a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, barely looked at me (even though we had been really good friends), took the notes and left. I don't remember if he showed up to the final but I never saw him again after that. Rumor was that he had gotten into drugs and dropped out, but no one from HS ever talked to him and I have done the internet search. I always hope he'll pop up again. He was a great guy with so much potential and I hate thinking about that last time.
Post a Comment
<< Home