LAMINATION COLONY 2010: Jereme Dean

There never was a saint with red hair — Russian Proverb

Born 1977 to seventeen year old Crystal Dean/Alfred Gomes (late twenties) at Chapman Hospital in Orange, CA. Alfred was in prison for armed robbery/heroin possession and not present for my birth. Iris Sexton, grandmother, was present.
Lived with Crystal/Iris in several low income apartments located in Anaheim, CA.
Cypress Community College magazine photographs me playing alone in the day care sandbox. Crystal was in class.
Earliest memory was crying on an ottoman because Crystal was “going out.” Iris tried to console me. I remember thinking, “You are not my mother. I just want my mom.”
Iris shared sips of beer while I sat on her lap before bed. Iris was an alcoholic. I remember thinking I felt loved.
Visited my Great Grandmother, Velma Barkley, often at her house in Hesperia, CA.
Velma had a blue kitty named Suki. I fed the kitty her wet food in the mornings. Velma painted a picture of me feeding Suki.
First memory of my schizophrenic uncle, Michael Dean, at Velma’s house in Hesperia. He clutched me in his lap causing Crystal to panic. Mike flung her across the room after she attempted to rescue me, bouncing her skull off the corner of a coffee table splitting the forehead open. Velma took us to a hospital Emergency Room. Sat in the sterile cold of the waiting room feeling helpless. Stared at the drying blood covering my mother’s young face.
Discovered a black widow in the bathroom of Velma’s house. She captured the spider with a square of toilet paper, crushed it in her hand. I remember thinking she was mighty.
Often hunted alone in Velma’s backyard for desert rocks to paint.
Friday was Bingo Night for Iris/Velma. They would bring home a box of Cracker Jacks if they won. The tiny prize inside the box made me happy. I remember feeling excitement trying to stay up until they came home.
Crystal worked/schooled day & night. Almost always home alone. Panic attacks start.
Played in the neighborhood until 11pm with no supervision.
Mike began sleeping in an abandoned car in our garage.
Velma diagnosed with brain cancer. Iris had been searching for hours when she finally found me playing with paint cans in a neighbor’s garage. My skin was browned by the stain of varnish when she delivered the news.
Family outings with Velma. Fished for the first time. Frightened by Velma and avoided her physical touch. I did not understand what brain cancer was.
Velma dies. Crystal/Iris hysterical after hearing the news. I could not comprehend why.
Velma’s funeral. People kept asking me if I was okay. I felt apathetic. I was okay. I saw her corpse in the coffin. Started crying and thought “I will never be loved again.” Tried to put my fist through a car window several times. People were laughing and joking at the wake. Sat in the back alley to avoid the liars.
Began 1st grade. Walked alone to school. Made a wrong turn down a busy street and became lost. Felt intense anxiety and began crying. Arrived at school 2 hours late.
Crystal moved frequently. Went to 5 schools in 1st grade. I did not have friends.
Crystal forgot me in a Lucky’s grocery store. I paced each aisle. She drove back to find me trembling in the dairy section.
Cops swarmed my apartment courtyard on a Saturday morning. I walked outside to witness SWAT yelling at a Mexican man positioned on the second floor. The Mexican was shirtless, shoeless and covered in blood. He waved a large kitchen knife. I ran back inside to window watch. SWAT shot him dead in the apartment he lived in.
Mike baby sat me and another girl (daughter of one of Crystal’s friends). Crystal went dancing at American Bandstand. Mike read “Hustler” on the couch and mumbled to himself. Played doctor in my bedroom with the girl. I did not see her again.
Crystal and her friend Starla took me to a drive-in to watch “Children of the Corn”. They neglected to explain it was a horror movie. The final car scene terrified me. Had anxiety walking past cars at night until my middle twenties.
Woke from sleep to hear Satan screaming and moaning. Crystal was watching “The Exorcist” on the living room television. This was the beginning of my insomnia.
Mike randomly apologized for doing that “thing” to me. I didn’t understand what he meant. I have no memories of abuse.
Lit an apartment building basement on fire with some neighborhood boys. It was an accident. Sort of.
Crystal/me would frequent the Anaheim mall. She would hand me a $5 dollar allowance to spend in the arcade while she shopped in the mall for hours.
One mall visit I felt very anxious about being alone and shit my pants. Sat on a parking lot bench for 3 hours waiting for Crystal to return.
Crystal dropped me off at a Filipino woman’s house. She told me I was going to live there a while. I ate rice every night.
Started wetting the bed.
A goofy looking white lady visited me. I had never met her before. She said she was a friend of Crystal. Her name was Denise. We went to McDonald’s every weekend. She talked about God the entire time.
Denise stopped visiting without notice. I still had not seen Crystal in months.
The Filipino family wanted me to leave. Crystal picked me up in her car. She was living in a Motel room 5 minutes from where I was living. She left me alone in the Motel room. I took the cover off the air conditioner, stuck my finger against the rotating blade. The cut practically severed the tip off.
9th birthday Crystal took me to Chino Prison to meet my father Alfred for the first time. I spent most of the time watching a vending machine rotate food. I was wearing a pin with the words “kiss me it’s my birthday”.
Conjugal weekend at Chino Prison. Crystal/Alfred/me vacationed in a trailer on the prison campus. Made shrinky dinks alone while Crystal/Alfred had sex. Alfred taught me how to throw a proper punch.
Crystal casually informed me Alfred was out of prison and I was going to live with him. She dropped me off at his apartment in Santa Ana the next night. My half-brother Alfred, Jr. and half-sister (I can’t recall her name) were already living there. I didn’t know I had siblings prior to our introduction.
Alfred was not allowed to have children in the apartment. He would leave us at Hart Park in Orange every day before work (around 7am) and pick us up after work (around 6pm). We did not get money or food. Called random numbers collect from the park pay phone to pass the time.
Alfred, Jr. informed me Alfred was present for his birth.
Crystal arrived to take me back with her. Alfred dangled her over his second floor balcony and beat her for it.
Crystal brought me to Iris’s house to live.
Enrolled in little league baseball. Walked alone an hour and a half to practice and an hour and a half back home. Families would drive by and wave.
Iris’s alcoholism worsened. Each evening she drank a cup of brandy and chased It with beer. Then the yelling would start. Most nights she would retire to her bedroom and moan cry for her dead mother.
Alfred made an unannounced visit to treat me to ice cream. We went to a house to buy heroin instead. He drove back to his apartment. Instructed me to stay in the car. Four hours passed. I was shivering from the cold night when he came down from his apartment. He let me lay in bed with him for about 10 minutes to warm up. Alfred had never showed affection towards me before. I felt really happy falling asleep next to him. Then he told me to “get the fuck out of his bedroom and go to sleep in my own bed”. This was the last moment of my life I shared with him. Iris retrieved me from the apartment in the morning while he slept. There was never any ice cream.
Iris began working graveyard shifts. I spent my nights alone watching television. We only saw each other on the weekends.
Crystal would visit once a month with her new boyfriend Dutch. Dutch was a 6’6 350 lb biker.
A few times I would stay with Crystal/Dutch at their biker house. There were 9 or 10 additional bikers living there. Constant drug use and leather clothing around me. Frst time I saw marijuana, it was packed in gallon size plastic freezer bags.
Crystal/Dutch got married. Dutch sold his Harley motorcycle and bought a truck with a camper on the back.
Crystal/Dutch decided to move to Oregon where Dutch had a machinist job waiting for him. They took me with them against my will. Listened to The Beastie Boys “License to Ill” 24 times during the drive to Oregon.
Dutch’s new job was graveyard shift. Crystal and I slept in a sleeping bag at a local Oregon park for the first 3 days while he worked. There were ducks in a small pond at the park. I would pretend I was one of them to fall asleep.
Moved to a month to month motel in Gladstone, OR. The motel was owned by an Indian family. The smell of spice was strong.
Watched “Spaceballs” 25 times on HBO during the summer. Walked around Gladstone alone.
Moved into a house in a poor neighborhood in Southeast Portland, OR. We had no furniture and used an igloo ice chest for a refrigerator.
Sat on the hardwood floor in my bedroom for hours after school until I fell asleep.
We got some furniture/refrigerator.
Crystal worked graveyard shift. I did not see her often. Dutch started working the early day shift.
Dutch became depressed. He would sit in the chair in the living room and glower at me. He would not allow me to turn the t.v. on or eat. Days would go by before he would say a word to me.
Frequently in trouble at school.
A boy on a bicycle rode past my school room and pointed a loaded pistol at the class. This was the first time a gun was pointed at me.
Had one friend, Robbie Krietzer, who lived next to the middle school. I stayed the entire 3 months of summer at his house without going home. I did not tell Crystal where I was.
Robbie and I played “Legend of Zelda” for 70 hours straight until we finished the game. Had a serious case of Nintendo thumb.
Went back home the day before school started. Crystal did not seem to notice my arrival.
Robbie attempted suicide because he thought boys were mean to him. I saw Robbie one time afterwards. He moved away.
Started spending time with a boy named Wally. Wally’s parents were separated and both heroin addicts.
Played dungeons and dragons with Wally and his skinhead friends. The skinheads did not like me much. I fought a lot with them.
Wally’s dad paid me to rip apart wood pallets in his backyard.
Started getting bullied by a kid who lived on my street. My house sat on a dead end with a cemetery behind. He lived at the front of the street. I had to walk past to go or come home. At school he left me physically alone. He would punch me in the face when he caught me walking to or from my house. I would try not to leave my room and would cry from the anxiety of getting beaten.
Wally attacked me over a joke I made at school. I did not fight back because I was scared to lose the only friend I had. Wally and I were not friends for a long length after.
Crystal and Dutch would fight the nights they were both at home (think it was Tuesdays). Crystal would scream at Dutch and hit him until he would show emotion. I watched Crystal punch a plate glass window and cut her arm in several places. Another night, Dutch broke Crystal’s toe trying to drag her outside to prevent Crystal from hitting him anymore.
Existential terror started. When alone, often while in bed for the night, had panic attacks over my imminent death and resulting nothingness. I could stop the panic attacks by crying, shaking my head violently left to right, and screaming “no no no” repeatedly. I began elaborate escapist fantasies in my mind to distract myself from the realization of my death. Many hours of nights/days were spent pretending I was someone or something else while hiding in my bedroom.
Thanksgiving was spent alone watching television and eating food Dutch cooked. I remember Dutch sitting silent in the dark living room staring at the wall. He didn’t move until 10am the next day.
We had no Christmas tree because Dutch/Crystal were fighting and “punishing” each other.
Crystal took me to Damasch Mental Hospital where she worked. Crystal wanted me to “see and meet the really neat patients she worked with”. The place felt cold and evil and the schizophrenics scared me by saying random words about killing me or stare and whisper towards me. Crystal was infatuated with the mentally ill. She showed more interest in them than me.
Started my first of many round trips from Oregon to California to visit Iris. Rode an Amtrak train alone for 25-26 hours. I would go to the bottom floor to be alone and watch the country speed by through a little window next to the bathroom.
Steve Reedmer, Iris’s brother, came to live with her. I shared a room with him when visiting. Steve was an alcoholic like Iris. Steve would often scream and flail in his sleep. The severity depending on his drunkenness.
Steve gave me $20, told me to “wash my balls, armpits and face but not in that order” and left me at the train station. I remember feeling sad and did not want to go back to Oregon to live with Crystal/Dutch.
Crystal was not at the train station when I arrived. I sat there and watched people come and leave the station for 3 – 3.5 hours. Crystal arrived in a new car and said she was sorry.
A mentally ill woman, Karee, escaped from the hospital Crystal worked at and arrived at our house. Crystal talked with Karee for a few hours then had the police pick her up some time after I fell asleep. I don’t remember how Karee knew where we lived. Crystal had a cat she named Karee.
Crystal became pregnant and gave birth to Montana Sue Karee Betzhold.
Crystal would leave Montana with me for hours every day. I became very protective of her.
Mike had been committed some time during the past few years and was incarcerated at a mental hospital in Norwalk, CA. The hospital was more like a prison. Crystal and Iris conspired to help him escape. They flew him up to Oregon. Crystal committed him to Damasch Hospital where she worked.
Started hating my birthday. Crystal would promise to take me some where every birthday then forget or be sick. I got a Supersoaker from Toys R US the next birthday and had a friend spend the night. It was the happiest birthday I can remember.
Rode the Greyhound bus to California. Played Street Fighter II at 4:00am with a crack addicted male during a layover in Sacremento, CA. I remember it was the only social interaction I had had in the previous 20 hours.
8th grade teacher confided she was a Wiccan and that she did not cast a curse towards me because she was scared it would bounce back on her.
Started high school at Marshall High in SE Portland. I was put in the “high risk” freshman class.
Enrolled in football because it would be a reason to see Dutch sitting silent in the living room at home. Did very well at football. Played starting offensive/defensive line. I felt “accepted” and remember being happy.
First time masturbating. It made me feel nauseated afterwards.
Befriended Rick Curry and his younger brother Robert “Little Bob” Curry.
Crystal would provide me $2 a day to ride the bus to/from school. Some days I would get too hungry, spend the money on lunch and walk home after football practice.
Started shoplifting from grocery stores to feed myself.
Stole the Anarchist Cookbook from the library.
Stole the Satanic Bible from the library. Returned it. I wasn’t impressed.
Joined the wrestling team. The coach, Monty, had a giant scar over his right eye brow. He received the scar while chainsaw cutting a door frame above his head. The saw bounced off the frame and went into his skull.
Rick and I befriended James, a 30 year old black man who worked at a gas station. He would often invite us to his house in NE Portland to drink 40’s.
Rick, Bob, some other people and myself went to James house in NE Portland. I noticed we were the only white people around. I watched two black women fight in the street until one pulled out a steak knife from her purse and stabbed the other one. The stabbed black girl ran back to her apartment and reemerged with a butcher knife. The cops came. We ran inside.
James had a naked roommate sleeping on his couch who would not stop talking about Prince. We drank 40’s of Old English and St. Ides. James and his roommate were closet gay. They frequently tried to lure one of the teenage boys to stay alone.
Began graffiti tagging with a few boys from high school. A couple of them were in a tagger gang named “DK” short for “Devil Knights”.
3 of the boys I associated with died by the end of the school year. Dean, the leader of DK, committed suicide by shooting himself in the head while sitting on his girlfriend’s lap, Richie was murdered while sitting in his car and I never heard the details of Tom’s death.
Rode the Greyhound bus to California again. Read Stephen King novels and X-men comic books.
Iris and Steve would get drunk every night and scream argue. Spent most of my nights alone at the $1.50 double feature theater at the Orange Mall. Iris/Steve would (usually) pass out around 11pm. I always tried not to be home until 11:30pm.
Arrived back in Oregon the day after Labor Day. This caused me to be late for the start of football. The coach and I did not get along. He refused to allow me play in games as punishment for not starting practice in mid-August with every one else. We argued a lot. I ended up crying on the sideline of a game and quit the team.
Stopped going to school. Spent most of the days at the mall playing Street Fighter II or Mortal Kombat.
A senior from high school named Brian pointed a laser scoped pistol at my chest while I was eating at McDonald’s one night. Rick noticed the glowing red dot on my torso. I saw Brian in his car smiling and pointing the gun towards me. I ran towards traffic to escape.
Rick left Oregon to live with his father in Washington. Bob was my only friend. We became very close. I spent the entire Christmas break at Bob’s house.
A few nights before Christmas, Bob and I went to the liquor store late at night to play Street Fighter II and buy soda drinks. Inside the store two other boys said “hello” and waved at us while leaving. They didn’t look familiar. Bob and I left 15 minutes later to start our walk home. When we cut down a dark alley the two boys from the liquor store were waiting. They started to hit Bob. Bob ran away and shouted something incoherent. I got punched in the mouth which broke my front tooth. Then a gun pointed at my face. I realized Bob was trying to convey that the boy had a pistol. I immediately ran.
Bob called his eldest brother, Phil, to explain what happened. Phil dealt drugs. He drove to Bob’s house, picked us up and we found my broken tooth on the asphalt. Bob said he recognized one of the boys from a tagger gang. Phil drove around a neighborhood by my house describing the kids to people on the street. We found where they lived and went to their house. The boy would not come out. Phil took us home, drove back with a friend and threw bricks through the front windows. He then physically beat the boy when he ran out to see what was going on.
I phoned Crystal and told her I needed to see the dentist. The root in my tooth was exposed and the pain was very intense. 8 or 9 days later Crystal scheduled a dentist appointment. The root was dead and the dentist made a fake tooth to replace the broken one.
Won a trip to Disneyland from a radio show. Spent the entire weekend alone at Disneyland. I saw Crystal, Dutch and Montana once for about 20 minutes. We flew back to Oregon on July 4th.
Moved to a small rural town called Sherwood, OR.
Crystal pregnant with Cheyenne Ryen Betzhold.
Kicked out of my house for the first time. Crystal was depressed and told me she hated me. She wanted me to leave. She punched and screamed until I left.
First time homeless I slept in a playground fort in a park. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. It was late fall. I shivered most of the night. I watched Crystal drive by the park on her way to work. Found a closed gas station with an open bathroom and took to sleeping on the toilet. Pan Handled for bus money to get back to Portland. Stole food and clothes.
One night it was freezing and windy. I slept behind a handball court at an elementary school, slept another night in the grass under a freeway overpass, another night on a rattan chair sitting on a random person’s porch, and a couple nights at Rick’s. The police found me walking by the side of the road, arrested me, told me I was a runaway. They took me back to Sherwood where Crystal and Dutch scolded me for running away.
Read Catcher in the Rye.
Crystal would lock up the house and not provide a key. I started breaking in to sleep in my own room.
Dutch became increasingly confrontational and began threatening to beat me.
The day after Christmas I told Crystal I was going to Portland for the night. She forbade me and became very upset. She started hitting me and screaming. I let her do this for about 5 minutes until I couldn't keep the anger in, grabbed her by the shoulders, shook her and begged her to leave me alone.
Stayed in Portland sleeping at various people's houses for a week.
Visited a friend named Wayne. We were in his father's bedroom when he unexpectedly pulled a revolver out of the closet, aimed it at my face and said, "I could shoot you right now and no one would miss you." He lowered the gun after a couple minutes.
Crystal was to check in at the hospital to give birth to Cheyenne. I took a dollar in pennies from a friend and rode a bus to the hospital.
I could not find Crystal in the normal maternity rooms. I found her in a back room. She explained she gave birth to Cheyenne the night I left. She had him on a friend's couch. They could not make it to the hospital.
Saw Cheyenne for the first time. He was very small and looked sickly. He had just had surgery to repair scrotal hereneas.
Crystal and Dutch did not talk to me much. I sat alone in the hospital waiting room for hours.
Dutch pushed me around a little one day. Told me never to touch his wife again.
Dutch pushed me while I was doing dishes in the kitchen. I grabbed a large carving knife and pointed it at him. He backed off. I threw the knife in the sink and fled to my room. I grabbed a metal ring measurement gauge waited behind the door for Dutch. Crystal stopped him on the stairs leading to my room.
Homeless again.
Shoplifted to eat. Oreos and coca-cola mostly. Slept in parks/public bathrooms. Wally let me sleep in a camper on his property a few weeks until his mom found me. Smoked hash for the first time with Wally. The session lasted 5 hours straight. His mom said I couldn’t stay there.
I was walking at 2am looking for a place to sleep when my friend Blue saw me from his bedroom. He told me to climb in through his window. I slept on his floor.
Blue's parents allowed me stay a week. Blue told them I was homeless. They wanted me to call Iris.
Iris paid for me to fly back to California to live with her.
Enrolled at Villa Park High School.
Made friends with Steve Critchfield and Aaron (forget the last name).
Steve and I would write humorous stories during class and exchange them after school. My best story was about his stepfather, Perry, who had a high pitched voice and a smooth hairless region where his penis was supposed to be.
Iris purchased a computer for my school work. It was an IBM PS/2 25mhz 486 with a 1200 baud modem.
Introduction to the online world. Started dialing into BBS (Bulletin Board Systems) around Orange County. First introduction to the words: Hacker, Warez, Phreak.
School became a dead place to me. I found no value intellectually or socially and would not attend for 2-3 week intervals. A classmate would forge my sick notes.
Convinced Iris to buy me a Unix shell account to the Internet. Everything was text. Began using Internet Relay Chat (IRC) to communicate to other internet connected individuals. #ansi was the channel I normally frequented It was a meeting place of the BBS clique. I would spend my days and nights online instead of learning in school.
On random occasion would show up at school to see actual human beings. My English teacher Mr. Corradino realized I was not interested in school. Instead of homework or class work, would ask me to take a book from his shelf, read it and return it the next time I decided to come to class. He introduced me to the book “1984”.
Began reading the hacker journal Phrack. The dark side of computing was exciting. Began reading every hack/phreak journal I could find on the internet.
Transitioned to the IRC channel #hack. A meeting place where hackers would boast about exploits and shit talk each other.
Steve showed up one night and explained he was homeless. I hid Steve in my closet every morning until Iris left for work. 2 weeks passed and he departed.
Built a “beige box”. Used the beige box to illegally set up 1-800 ATT teleconference bridges. The conference bridge was a past time of the hacker.
A school counselor, Mr. Edwards, pulled me aside one day to inform me I was a fuckup and wouldn’t graduate—ever. I felt underestimated.
Enrolled in Richland Continuation School under my own volition. The school was easy. I finished most classes in 1 to 3 days. Shop class was the worse.
Entered in a Scholarship Contest. The assignment was to write an essay about why a person should get a scholarship. I wrote about my life. The Rotary club scholarship awarded me as winner of the contest. 2 years of paid community college.
First of the headaches. A strange pressure would fill my head. My brain would feel like it was folding or flapping until I thought I would die. I was terrified it was cancer. I didn’t want to know the day of my death. Avoided telling people about the headaches. Every day after my thought was rife with death.
Graduated Richland high school, not on time but early. I finished my last class, English, met the principal at the front office, was given a weird smelling robe and cap, a Polaroid picture was taken of me, then posted on the wall. Gave back the robe and cap and walked out the door.
Iris bought me my first car: an early model 1970’s Volvo with beige exterior with a faux red plush interior.
Two guys from #hack—El_Jefe (Zak) & Ap0calypse (Bob)--befriended me. We shared mutual feelings on humor. El_Jefe and Ap0calypse were in a hacker gang named Phone Losers of America (PLA). El_Jefe and I would spend 4-6 hours daily prank calling and social engineering.
Used “War dialing” to find interesting phone numbers.
Started ‘dumpster diving’ at Pacific Bell. Found some informational technical manuals. The entire summer was spent online. I had no concrete interactions.
Inducted into the PLA.
Began working for a friend’s father, Vernon Van Winkle, in his video production business. We recorded weddings and cable commercials.
Enrolled at Rancho Santiago Community College. My classes were: Creative Writing; Algebra; Asian History; Speech. I hated the writing class. The teacher was all ego.
Wrote PlA099 under the screen name dr. hate. Released it to the internet.
The Volvo’s transmission went defunct. The car stayed at the mechanics for the next 3 months.
My speech class was cancelled. I decided to drop out of Community College. Spent most of my time online.
Began talking to a girl, Amy, I met online. She was a friend of Zak’s.
Broke into payphones to talk to Amy. My usual spot was at Shaffer Park. Most nights I sat under the phone booth talking with her until 2 a.m. The park was always empty.
Steve and Aaron were now homeless and sleeping in my community laundry room. I gave them sleeping bags and blankets.
Decided to stop working for Vern. Didn’t show up for work again.
Amy wanted me to come visit her in Illinois. I didn’t
Got my car back. It worked for 5 days and the transmission died again. I was too scared to tell Iris. She was getting meaner with the drink.
One night I stole the car keys from Iris’ work uniform. She always hung her nurse’s apron in the master bedroom bath. Pulled her Mitsubishi Galant out in neutral and foot pushed it down the alley way, started the engine and sped away.
The Galant was a stick shift. Something I was not used to driving. I took the car up into the Anaheim Hills. Suddenly the front driver’s tire exploded during a turn on a hill. The area was rural, the car was in a blind spot on the road. I had no idea how to change a tire and decided to coast the machine down the hill to a payphone where I would call AAA for assistance.
Halfway down the mountain the car’s electric system started to short out. Every light, bulb and diode sputtered. The car’s wire harness was caught on the ripped wheel rubber.
A half mile from my home the car completely died. I pointed it towards the curbing and parked it with the emergency break. The engine wouldn’t turn. Everything electrical was dead.
Called AAA from a payphone. They wouldn’t help me because I was not Iris. It did not matter if my name was on the account. Ran home and borrowed Iris’ ATM card. Got out $140 to call a tow truck to bring the car back to the condo parking.
Saw Steve and Aaron wandering around the area. Explained what happened. We decided steal a replacement tire.
After hours of searching, found another Mitsubishi, but not a Galant. Removed the tire with a jack where the car was parked. Left it on three wheels.
Soon realized cars have different bearing configurations. The stolen tire was useless. Tossed the stolen wheel.
Pushed my Volvo next to the Mitsubishi. Vandalized both cars with eggs, mustard, toilet paper and other condiments. Ran upstairs right before dawn and jumped into bed.
Iris woke to find the vandalized cars. Later that day the mechanic would explain to her what actually was wrong with her car. I am a really bad liar. I confessed.
Got my car back from the mechanics. Now functional.
Iris left to gamble in Laughlin, Nevada.
Picked up Steve in Orange. Drove to Silverlake to pick up Aaron. Drove back from LA with the two smoking from a bong in the rear.
My neighbor, Jeff, bought us a fifth of cheap whiskey. By the end of the night I had been thrown out of a local Lucky’s for wandering in their boiler room and Steve was vomiting, repeatedly. Took Steve home and fell asleep on my living room couch to Aaron sucking in a massive bong load.
Woke up late in the afternoon. Wrote Iris a letter telling her I left for Oregon, took Aaron back to Silverlake, drove to LAX, left the Volvo in short-term parking and stepped on a flight for Oregon. It was a flight no one knew about other than my mother. She bought the ticket for me.
Arrived in Portland. Crystal, Montana and Ryen greeted me at the terminal gate. Dutch had abandoned the family. His whereabouts unknown.
Crystal pleaded for me to stay and help her raise Montana and Ryen.
Avoided Iris’ phone calls. Decided to stay in Oregon. Did not speak with Iris until 18 months later.
Woke up in the morning to discover a golf ball shaped lump on the left side of my throat. I started weeping. Soon after I was hysterical with thoughts of brain cancer.
Crystal drove me to a hospital. The doctor placed his fingers on my throat and diagnosed me with globules. I was told to go home and not worry so much.
Crystal’s demeanor changed after two weeks of living with her. She began criticizing me for her hardships in life. I was given an ultimatum to get a job or sign up for welfare by the end of the month. She threatened me with homelessness if I did not soon help with money.
Made an appointment to apply for state welfare.
Stopped to buy a Jolt cola at a Plaid Pantry on the way to the welfare appointment. The store was conducting new hire orientation for 4 prospective employees. I asked if they were hiring. 4 hours later I finished training and was the new graveyard shift.
Crystal’s face turned swollen red while she screamed at me for not bringing home food stamps. I went to bed feeling very confused.
My first night working at Plaid Pantry. The other graveyard shift worker, Jamie Cunningham, showed me how to stock the beer cooler. We went to his manufactured home during a lunch break. A 5 foot marijuana plant was growing in his closet. Jamie removed a black leather kit from a shoebox. I could see a glass syringe and a spoon. I declined the offer to shoot up.
Agreed to cover Jamie’s shift that night. He drove off. I never saw him again.
Maggie Reynolds began working the morning shift. She had recently moved from Orange County to Oregon. Flirted with her every day. I was terrible at it.
7 night/60 hour work weeks became the standard.
Slept on the carpeted floor in Cheyenne’s bedroom.
Received an $800 paycheck every month. Crystal demanded $350 be forfeited for rent.
The district manager of Plaid Pantry informed me I possessed a black aura. I had never met the man previously.
Crystal became more abusive. I was accused of being selfish by not helping the family. Crystal was very angry I was not babysitting my brother and sister so she could catch up on her sleep or go out shopping alone. She yelled me into submission. I didn’t sleep much after.
Befriended a neighbor Shane Heavyrunner, a mixed-blood native american heavyweight boxer.
Freezing rain desolated the city. It was a vicious winter.
Ate LSD for the first time. After pressuring me to drop the acid with him, Shane suddenly left to run errands. Sat at home alone talking to Ryen’s “Casper, The Friendly Ghost” pillowcase for the majority of the drug experience.
Purchased a radio frequency scanner to eavesdrop on cellular phone calls. Listened to a conversation between a medical doctor and a father debating to keep the latter’s son on life support. A decision was made. The doctor provided the death itinerary. I cried a little.
The February floods of 1996: Days of heavy rain punished the city. The temperature suddenly rose causing the mountain ice packs to melt. The lower end of town was immersed in 10-12 feet of water. I was trapped. Cars, houses, trees and a mall disappeared. A boat drove in circles over a parking lot of drowned vehicles.
Lydia Ramirez, a co-worker, offered her couch to me. She felt bad after hearing how abusive Crystal was.
Packed my belongings into my backpack and moved in with Lydia. Didn’t tell Crystal I was leaving or where I was going.
Stole the entire stock of beer from Plaid Pantry’s cooler with the help of Shane. Unofficially quit by not going back to work.
Lydia’s ex-lover, Rudy Gonzalez, arrived from Oxnard, CA. Rudy was fleeing from a handful of felony arrest warrants.
Met Cory Kalteich and his mulatto cousin Jay. They lived in the same apartment building as Lydia.
Lydia worked two jobs. She often wouldn’t sleep.
Slept on the couch. It wasn’t so bad. Lydia had a sister, Anitra Nunez, living there too. Anitra was feminine and beautiful; she had skin the color of old pennies.
Began drinking every day.
Some fat bitch thief came over to Lydia’s. She lived in the neighborhood. The fat bitch thief stole money out of my wallet. She ran home.
Rudy/me showed up at the thief’s house. She wouldn’t come out. Her man wouldn’t either. Rudy started kicking in the door. He heard sirens and fled home.
Popped all four tires on the fat bitch thief’s car. Used a cordless dremel.
Anitra would often invite me to her room. We would sit on her bed and talk to each other. She told me she had a dead baby son while pointing to a small picture of a smiling boy. I had an emptiness after.
Maggie/me still saw each other. Awkwardly. We would usually go park somewhere public and drink until dawn.
At a party with Cory and Jay. They confide they steal Volkswagon cars. We decide to find some automobiles to pilfer.
Stole my first car from a church parking lot.
Helped steal a second car. This one belonging to the Sheriff’s daughter.
As I stood in line at Plaid Pantry, a boy made a throat slice motion with his hand and pointed at me. I had never seen the kid before.
Jay and I followed him up the hill. When I was close enough to ask him what he meant by the threat 7 teenagers circled me. Jay was gone.
A girl I knew from Cory came out. She got the guys to back off long enough for me to run away.
Came back with Rudy, Shane, Cory, Jay and myself. We all had weapons except for Shane.
Shane knocked on the door of a mobile home. A man in his late fifties answered and told us to “fuck off.” Shane threw an uppercut to the man’s soft head knocking him out.
We moved back to the street. Teenaged boys were pouring out of apartments. Cory sliced one from the corner of the eye to the bottom of the cheek with his blade. Rudy was clubbing several boys with a cue stick. A man was pleading for Shane not to hit him again. I went to stab the man but Shane flashed an uppercut. The man started weeping on the asphalt of the street. Sirens came. We fled.
Talked to Anitra about Death. It was the first night I didn’t have a panic attack over the subject.
Got a job working the janitorial graveyard shift at Fred Meyers. Spent nights vacuuming, cleaning, mopping. The entire time worked I thought about death. Masturbated to the smell of menstruation while cleaning the women’s bathroom.
Shane gave me a ride to SE Portland. He dropped me off in Rick’s neighborhood.
Went to Rick’s house. Talked for a few hours. He told me Bob was in the urn above my head.
Earlier in the year, Bob had fought back against two bullies. The agitators were ex-friends of Rick. Bob beat both of the boys with a mop stick. The cops were called. Bob was worried because Oregon had recently passed the minimum sentencing law and assault was a felony. He was going to get 5 years in prison for defending himself.
A friend came over with a revolver tucked in his work boot. The friend tried to convince Bob and Rick to shoot the two boys to mitigate the looming 5 year sentence. Bob refused. The gun was muzzle up and tucked back in the boot. It accidentally fired a bullet bounced twice against the cement walls of the basement. The bullet exploded Bob’s chest. He died in Rick’s arms mouthing the words “it’s okay.” And spitting up blood.
I felt contrite about Bob’s death. I could have protected him.
Drank all night with Maggie, Cory and Jay for my birthday. The night ended in daylight with Maggie leaving. I felt really sad about death. Laid down in a gutter to watch the cars pass by.
Rudy confided in me that he had killed a woman then melted her corpse with gasoline
Drank a 5th of tequila. Maggie dropped me off at home. 3 hours later I woke in the abandoned field next to the apartment building. Rain was falling on my head.
Rudy/Shane had been snorting cocaine for months. They suddenly became paranoid towards me.
Anitra drunkenly admitted one night she liked guys like me. I was too dense to understand what she meant.
Rudy pointed a butcher knife and threatened to kill me while I slept on the couch one evening. Lydia panicked and called the police. Rudy’s last words before incarceration were, “I’m going to murder you!” I slept through the entire altercation.
A lean & muscular man wearing camouflage pants came to the apartment looking for Anitra. He introduced himself as Ron, her husband. He had been training for 6 months with the US Army Rangers.
Anitra avoided me. She refused to talk to me intimately anymore.
Felt extreme sadness.
Had been drinking heavily with Maggie and her cousin Sara. Maggie’s car was parked next to a black Volkswagon Cabriolet. I pretended to break in to the car to scare Maggie and Sara.
5 police enforcement vehicles descended on us as I drove out of the apartment building. A neighbor contacted the Tualatin police department after witnessing the drunken prank. I was handcuffed, verbally abused, handed a ticket to appear in court and released.
Lost my virginity with Maggie. The sex was horrible. I was too busy thinking, “I HATE MYSELF,” to enjoy the act.
Moved to an apartment building, Todd Village, with Maggie, Cory and Brian. Brian worked with Maggie at Plaid Pantry, coated white makeup on his face, and proclaimed to be goth. I hated the guy.
Worked several temporary jobs as a telemarketer. The jobs would last 1-4 days, paid $5.25/hr typically. The workspaces were all the same: a makeshift desk, a phone, a pencil and paper. I frequently thought about suicide.
Brian loathed his mother & father. He told Maggie about his plans to steal a few grand from their house the next time they were out of town.
The following weekend Brian’s parents left for a 14 day vacation. Maggie drove to their home and convinced me to help break in. We took $6,000 in cash. I felt terrible afterwards.
Bought a computer. Also, a shopping mall engagement ring.
Used stolen credit card numbers to order pizza for pick-up. Had a surplus of 3000 plus card numbers from a hacked website. Fraud was our source of nutrition.
Thanksgiving dinner with Cory and his mother in Washington state.
Brian ended an argument with Maggie by shoving her. He had left for his parents after the altercation with her.
Cory/me arrived home from Washington State to find Maggie in Brian’s room. She had the eyes of a destroyer. Maggie poured bleach in the television, slashed the waterbed fifteen different directions, scored every compact disc, dented, crushed, and flattened anything with more than a $10 worth.
By morning, Maggie moved everything in Brian’s room to the dumpster outside. I never saw Brian again. The subject of the disagreement was never disclosed to me.
Met Maggie’s alcoholic grandmother, Barbara, and her schizophrenic aunt, Pati.
Got a job as a data entry clerk at Oregon Title Insurance Company. The position paid $6.50/hr, but the placement agency forced me to sign a contract (otherwise I wouldn’t be hired). According to the contract, I owed the placement agency $250 a paycheck/$7000 total. I made less than minimum wage because of the fees.
First ultrasound image. My son was beautiful. His predicted birth date was May 22nd —my birthday.
Maggie/me moved to an apartment in Lake Oswego owned by Barbara. Had to pay full rent.
Made an extra $150 a week by shoplifting/returning merchandise from/to Fred Meyer & JC Penny.
Adopted an Australian shepherd dog from the pound. Her name was Stormy. The placard on the cage indicated Stormy was 2 years old but had never been inside a home. She pissed submissively when I knelt down to pet her. Her sadness hurt me a little.
Stormy was abused badly by her previous owner. She had severe abandonment anxiety and couldn’t be left alone. Anywhere. The first night home from the pound I pad locked her in a dog crate before leaving for dinner. I came home to a living room of broken things.
Maggie was diagnosed with Toxemia and Gestational Diabetes. Her body wanted to nullify the baby.
Maggie/me went to the doctor’s 2-3 times a week. She would randomly vomit 4 or 5 times a day. Her body was getting sicker.
Called Crystal to let her know she was going to be a Grandmother. It was the first time we spoke since my departure. She had a selfish excitement about being it.
Called Iris. She was very drunk. I couldn’t explain much to her without getting angry.
The work placement agency was threatening to garnish my wages because I had not been paying the monthly fees.
Maggie’s sickness worsened. The doctors committed her to bed rest/hospital observation for 2 weeks.
My son was at risk. The doctors decided Maggie needed an earlier birthing date. They planned on inducing labor the next day.
Early morning hospital arrival. I brought Stormy. Left her in the car. My Toyota was the only place she felt comfortable alone.
Maggie had gurgle tubes attached to her in various places. The nurses were not letting her eat. Her blood sugar crashed twice causing the nurses to go into a panic. I fed Maggie some stolen peanut butter when the idiot nurses were out of the room.
The induction medication was not working as quickly as planned. Maggie’s cervix hadn’t dilated at all after 5 hours. We watched television to pass the time. A black lady on ‘The Price is Right’ yelled, “I’M NOT MAD AT CHA BOB!” All of a sudden I felt empty and alone.
My mother arrived by nightfall. We went to the cafeteria together. It was the first break I had had all day/night. I got pistachio pudding. We didn’t talk much.
A mechanical breathing device was fastened over Maggie’s face when I returned. I asked the lead nurse why the breathing apparatus was being used. She responded with, “Don’t worry about it. You don’t work here.” I was removed from the room for telling the nurse to go fuck herself.
By the next morning, Maggie was dilated. Her water broke suddenly, within 20 minutes she was lava faced, slurp sucking the air. Her pussy was bulging from a round object pushing out from within.
It happened quickly. A cut from asshole to vagina, screaming, pushing, then abruptly the doctor yanked him out. I started to panic. The baby looked like tethered death, he wasn’t moving or making a noise.
My knees buckled but I caught myself. All I could do was stare at the silent baby. My stomach began to spasm and my eyes were paralyzed but I couldn’t cry. Fear kept me from talking. I was mortified.
The doctor smacked the baby slightly. Then a huge stream of piss erupted from my son’s penis in response. It hit the nurses, the doctor, and Maggie. I began to cry hysterically; my son had arrived.
Cut the embilical cord with scissors. Asked the doctor if I could keep all of the cord. He didn’t take me seriously.
Held my son and smiled.
Went home for the night. The next morning I would pick them up to bring home.
Got a call before leaving for the hospital. Steve and Aaron where weird on LSD and driving from San Francisco to see me in Portland. They expected to be there tonight by 8 pm.
Left for the hospital.