Christian Neil (christianneil) wrote in dysfunction03,
Christian Neil

The story of Heath....

Heath...the mere mention of his name prompts a wave of reaction within certain circles of my acquaintances, and he has come up a couple of times as of recent, so I think that I will attempt to place into words this enigmatic figure that has come in and out of my life over the years.

The story begins in the early 90s...I am a mulleted young man of 16 who is treading water at McClellan High School. In my spare time, I play drums for a local band called Submission, and that is when my path first crosses with a bass player by the name of Heath. Not a bad looking guy, and reasonably charismatic in a great many of those people who gets on your nerves when you take the time to sort him out in solitude, but whe he's around, he'll win you over.

Not unlike all of us, he has his problems. He lost an eye when he was younger (more on that later), he has a bit of a stuttering problem (not his fault), and he applies so much gel, hairspray, and mousse to his hair that he could probably deflect bullets with it. And he is a pathological liar. But we all knew him, and understood him....he was an uncomplicated man, or so he had us all believing.

The eye story was an interesting story, and one that we never got a response that put the matter at rest on. One story was that he ran into a tree branch, catching a limb vitreous deep. One story was that a squirrel knocked some debris from a tree, and it caught him in the eye. Yet another was that he was a victim of a William Tell stunt gone bad. I attempted to assimilate all three stories into my gestalt, and I finally settled on the relaity that a squirrel shot a stick at him from a bow.

He was the butt of our jokes, and a tragic figure that was victim to our folly. "Fuck you, you piece of shit" was his characteristic reply. And we also quickly discovered that he would lie for no reason. I'm not talking about lies for a purpose (like getting laid, for example). I'm talking about lying to you about what he had for lunch, or about what movie he watched. He once told us he had no middle name, so we gave him the middle name "Fraker", after a fave character from Death Wish III.

Post college, I move back in to the house that I grew up in when mom and dad figure they can't sell it. It's a three bedroom house, and I decided to take on a couple of roommates to help out with the bills and the rent, and he happened to be getting out of his lease at the time. So Heath and Oscar (see pic below) move in.

Things went great...for a few weeks. Then he has a Christmas banquet coming up that he needs a date for. The antichrist and I reacquaint him with a friend of ours that he used to know when they lived on the same street growing up. She had just gotten out of an abusive relationship with a man, and then another abusive relationship with a woman, and she was willing to go to the banquet with him.

Digression: She had met this guy from Wisconsin on the internet, and he moved down to LR. It didn't exactly work out, and one of the problems was that he kept wanting her to bring a female friend to bed with them. She finally got fed up with it and kicked him out. Immediately thereafter, she went over to the female friend's house in question, and thus began the short-lived Sapphic tryst that ended badly. The running joke was that Heath was like Luke Skywalker, and he had the power to bring her back from the dark side

Within 2 weeks, Heath and Suzanne eloped, and Oscar became my son.

Fast forward a couple of months, and the marriage was annulled, and Heath moved back in. And then there were four, because now Carter was living here as well. This was his longest stint at the house, and this was where we started to realize what an undesireable situation that this was. He would run the AC all night as cold as it would run, he would try and sell us things that he owned when he needed money, and if we didn't give him his asking price, he'd turn around and pawn it and get less than half he tried to sell it to us for. He would get a new job, and everything was great, until one day some guy at work would try and grab his ass, or he was juat getting tired of their bullshit. He would bring home lots of different girls, and he would move relationships from step one to step six in a week. He also had a bit of a temper when it came to Oscar's barking, which I will admit was excessive, and this was the time that he went to live with Grandma.

He fell in love with a waitress at Waffle House who was on work release from the women's correctional facility, and eventually wound up moving in with her family. That ended, but it did not stop her from constantly calling the house collect.

Hurt me once, shame on you, hurt me twice, shame on me, or so it goes. We let him move in with us a third time, and he started getting into drugs, meth, I believe. This was about the point that he had run out of shit to pawn, he had lied to us constantly about a great many things, and we were fearful of our stuff. So we changed the locks, and the story ended badly, once again.

But for all his faults, I kind of miss the guy. Carter and I used to think that he was handy to have around, because if we were ever insecure about what we had done with our lives, we always had him around to make us feel better about ourselves. I am on speaking terms with him again, but we don't talk often. His mother started him on some treatment with a shrink, but I don't know if anything has come of it.

He's not a bad guy, but he does have some problems. His credit is wrecked, he can't be trusted, and even though he did manage to hook up with some really nice girls on many occasions, he consistently managed to blow it.

This is his story....

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