I had sort of had a crash course in the boys, and pieced the rest of them together from what I had heard. As I said, these guys had been together for years. The day after my run in with Neil, and the subsequent invitation to friendship, I was now privy to all the dirt on Michael. The problem was I wasn't sure how much of the information was accurate. Craig had been widely known as a compulsive liar. The stories were usually about himself, but when he made up something about other people, it was outrageous. The sad part was everyone knew he was a liar, but listened to him anyway. He would try to convince you so vigorously that eventually you just gave in. No matter how unlikely the details. He had said that his Dad fought a bear, that he swallowed and shit out a 100$ bill. He failed grade one, so I guess I shouldn't expect that they would be strings of genius. I had to learn all about these three on the fly. I was at the bottom of this little gang, and there was no way that Shane or Neil would allow movement up the chain. After all, Michael had known them for years, and he was dropped in a snap.
Craig lived a few doors down from the school in a house that was being built by his father. Between the moment I moved to the Ridge to the time I left was ten years, and I never saw any improvement on that house. It looked the exact same as the first day I'd been there, to the last. wooden floors awaiting carpet, exposed wiring, and studs. His parents seemed like nice people. His Mom was over weight, and poured into a material chair almost every time I saw her. She watched TV in the room that would be a living room. His father was booming voiced behemoth. I don't know if he ever fought a bear, but he was certainly big enough too. He had large construction hands, that wrapped around bottled beer whenever I saw him. Craigs' brother Chris was a menace, and I can only assume that something in that home life created these two assholes. Chris fought, stole, smoked, drank and did drugs, and he was only three years older than us. Of course he was only in grade 8 because he too had failed a grade or two. That's why he was king of the school, he'd been there the longest.
Shane's family lived on a huge piece of land ten minutes away from Craig. His step father was this round egg shaped man who had plenty of money. His Mom was attractive, and way out of his league, but was afforded a fantastic lifestyle. They had a pool, and motorbikes. I assumed that Craig would hate Shane for this reason, but didn't. They would make comments about Michael being rich, because his step father was dentist, but Shane lived way larger than him. Shane also had an older brother, but he was quiet, and was deeply into electronics. The field behind their house stretched on for what seemed forever. In the distance was the tree line where we would adventure and talk about life. There were ponds and acres and acres of undiscovered forrest. It's too bad that so much of my memory is on the terrible parts of childhood and not those moments trekking through the trees. They were truly wonderful adventures. Craig would explain why everyone else was a pussy, including us, and then regale us with tales of his conquests. He would tell us about boobs he saw, cigarettes he smoked, and then belittle us one by one. Neil would laugh, Shane would agree, Michael ignored, but I listened intently. I'm not sure why. Shane's home life was pretty normal I guess. I probably hung out with him more than any of the guys, but his loyalty would always be to Craig.
For the longest time I thought that Craig had something on everyone, and used to pressure people into friendships. I guess that's why he never really trusted me, he didn't know enough about me. He kept us all against each other slightly enough to keep us sharp. He told me the girl that Shane like, and called her ugly. He told me that Neil jerked off to his mothers bra. He also told me that they each said bad things about me, but not to say anything. I'm sure that he said the same to them. Neil was emotional, and I always felt that he worked hard to be friends with Craig. It was difficult for Neil because of his background. Neil was half Japanese and named after Neil Diamond. He should've been the target of everyones ire, but few mouthed him off once they knew that he had a black belt. Neil could fight well, and always had his back up. Craig could say any outrageous statement that some guy possibly said and he'd go nuts. He lived ten minutes in the other direction on a tomato farm. Their home was beautiful and very neat. I always felt like I was mucking the place up just being inside. The first day that we ignored Michael, Neil beat him pretty good by the bike rack over a so-called rumour about him. Before he started punching Michael made a plea with him. He said remember the way Craig treated you? Remember how bad you felt when you were on the other end? Why would I say something that would obviously get me beaten and isolated? Neil didn't care. I saw Michael cry that day, but I believe it was because he'd lost his friends, not because the beating hurt.
These guys were relentless, and I was now apart of it. the first week was hard. Five days of ignoring and separating Michael from the social circle. The following week was easier. Craig had started some rumours about Michael and he got whooped by some older kids. A month went by and half the school had heard that not only had Michael sucked dicks, he also had AIDS. The second month brought insatiable beatings, the girls in the class learned that Michael had no penis, and that he was adopted. Before I knew it I was kicking him when he was down. I was lying to my parents about things that Michael had apparently said. Even the teacher pulled him to the office for calling her a bitch, which he didn't do. Whenever Michael would gain the littlest amount of dignity, Craig would destroy it. We had broken him down to nothing.
When Michael stopped coming to school, everyone thought that he was faking it. He was indeed not well. The anxiety of going to school had given him ulcers. The humiliation and ridicule was so intense that it made him sick to his stomach. The boy that spent everyday outdoors was now hiding in his basement afraid of everyone. Everything he'd ever told Craig about himself was now public knowledge, and being used against him. Our teacher had asked if anyone would be able to drop off some homework to him, but no one volunteered. We were still making fun of him while he lay in pain at home. After a few moments Craig put up his hand and I feared the worst. The teacher didn't know, or care about the dichotomy of the school, so she sent the enemy to his door. I don't know what went down, or what was said, but Craig came back with fire. From Michael jerking off in the window, to him saying he was going to kill Neil, to claiming that he fucked Lisa(the hottest girl in school) Whatever happened, Michael returned to school under the impression that everything was okay. That the grudge had been dropped, and that Craig wanted him back in the crew. He believed that after all he endured that they him again. He was wrong. His hopes were crushed the moment he dismounted his bike. Neil thrashed the frail looking Michael until he wailed like a baby. The crowd and myself, cheered. Michael was the social piraya, only Amy looked on with concern, but would never show it. Michael wouldn't want anything to happen to her. Through tears he scanned the crowd, but saw no support. It had been three months since we started the alienation, and there was only three weeks left until summer. The week before we were out of school, someone spray painted, "Michael Murphy is a homosexual" across the wall of the canning plant in large childish printing. The plant was on the street that Michael lived so all of his neighbors, and family could see that an entire elementary school didn't like him. I don't know for sure who did it, but I suspect it was Craig. When you're going into the last year of elementary school, it's suppose to be the best summer of your life. For me it was filled with long days, swimming at Davidson's Pool. I was surrounded by friends, we camped out in the backyard, and went to the lake. Somewhere alone on his nineteen acre farm, the Michael Murphy that I'd known briefly, had died. But something unexpected was born out of isolation and neglect, it was imagination.
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