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| Castor & Ryan Hetfield tell it how it is; A slant on the Hetfield Family. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: May 5, 2008, 5:06 pm (12,029 Views) | |
| Lucifer's Angel | May 6, 2008, 3:19 pm Post #16 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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I don't approve of homophobia, but I don't blame Castor for saying that, the kids are jerks. And why is Cali such a bitch in this story? I'd like to read more.
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| Lady Hammett | May 6, 2008, 3:22 pm Post #17 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Yeah, kids can be real jerks at school these days so I decided to emphasize the fact that Castor and Ryan were both bullied . . . Cali is the favorite, Marcella the neutral character, and of course Castor and Ryan's lives have run parallel even though they didn't grow up together or even know each other at the time. |
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| Lady Hammett | May 6, 2008, 3:24 pm Post #18 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Ryan's turn. Please take note that violence is escalated in this scene. Christmas was hell. I wanted a new bass and amp, but Dad said no. He said I was going to have a present that NORMAL kids had. So I asked for a Playstation instead. It was the end of 1997, and they were new at the time. I liked Playstation, but didn't feel like playing it as much as my bass. It just wasn't as fun. When New Year rolled around, Francesca announced that she was pregnant. I was shocked at first, but the news quickly rolled by in a haze. At that point I was indifferent about what happened in this family, because I no longer felt a part of it. I was the son that my father didn't know what to do with, and the unwanted stepson in addition to that. That suited me fine, because I just wanted them both to leave me alone. With a new baby in the house that was his and hers, they would be paying too much attention to him or her to bother with me. That suited me fine, too. My 1998 New Year's Resolution was to learn how to read. I was going to be nine in July, and I was sick of being illiterate. I also hoped that, if I could read, Dad and Francesca would stop belting me. Then again, with a new baby, surely they wouldn't have time to belt me. I didn't get to see Uncle Jason and Uncle Kirk as much as I did before. But one weekend I had the privilege of staying at the Chophouse because Dad and Francesca were throwing a baby shower. A baby shower all weekend long? Bullshit. They just wanted me out of there - but like I said, that suited me fine. Uncle Jason was always a serious guy. But this weekend, he seemed even more serious than usual. We engaged in a two-hour bass lesson, then when we were done, we went out for pizza. When we arrived back at the Chophouse, Uncle Jason said, "Ryan, I need to talk to you." "About what?" I asked. I didn't sound dismal like he did. I was happy that I was out of Dad's horrible house. Just watching Jason's two Rhodesian Ridgeback dogs play on his wraparound porch was relaxing to me. "Kirk told me about what happened," he said, looking me straight in the eye. "Well, there's nothing that can be done. If you and Dad fight then the band will break up," I said quickly, feeling uncomfortable. It was hard enough talking to Kirk, who I was close to emotionally, let alone Jason, who was close to me but all about business. "Ryan, I think your safety comes before the band," Jason replied boldly. His voice sounded like it was going to crack, yet he kept it steady. I hesitated. "Well, what does Uncle Kirk think?" "He's not sure what to do. Neither am I, really." I remembered Dad moaning and groaning downstairs about a week ago that he wasn't happy about Jason. He was unhappy because Jason was considering a solo project. It sounded like they had already fought. By the sound of Jason's voice, it didn't seem to matter if they fought again. "Uncle Jason, I don't want you to get in trouble and get fired from the band," I said softly. Jason said nothing. He looked thoughtful, rubbing his chin gently. "Anyway," he said finally, "I was wondering about whether you'd be interested in going to the House of Blues tonight. An excellent jazz bass player and good friend of mine is going to be performing there." I was happy that the subject was dropped because I had felt uncomfortable. But once it was changed, I wished it hadn't. I needed to talk to somebody about this. We didn't all weekend. But when it was time for me to return home and he drove me back, we exited the car, and Jason threw his arms around me in a tight hug. I was surprised - he'd never been that emotional before. "Take care, little buddy," he told me. Great, now I felt like crying. I wanted to stay there in his arms, where I'd be safe forever. Of course, this was bad, because what they knew was basically dividing the band subconsciously. Kirk and Jason knew the truth, and Dad and Lars were in denial that anything was wrong. Jason pulled out of the driveway without looking back. I guess he couldn't. I turned and headed up to the front door. Dad and Francesca weren't even home yet. Then my cell phone rang (yes, Dad gave me one so that he could keep track of everywhere I went. Not that I had any friends, so why did it matter?) Cell phones were pretty big back then, and mine was in my backpack. I pulled it out and answered it. "Ryan, it's Dad. We thought we'd be back by now but there's an accident on the freeway. Just go inside and we'll be home soon, okay?" "Sure." We hung up, and I let myself in with the spare key, which was underneath the doormat. When I got in, I remembered my New Year's Resolution. I was going to learn how to read, no matter what it took. I looked around for something to start with. Aha - the mail on the countertop was an excellent place to begin. Then I realized immediately that Saturday's mail wouldn't have been checked since they hadn't been home. I went out to the driveway and pulled it out of the mailbox. That was when I noticed that one of the envelopes had my name on it. I could read my first name regardless of how much trouble I had with my last name. I took the mail in and opened the envelope addressed to me. I pulled out a letter and forced myself to break down the words, letter by letter. "D E A R RYAN," I made out, "W H Y H A V E N ' T Y O U R E S P O N D E D" - I could make out the "why", but the letters beyond that kind of blurred together. I decided that the best thing to do was to figure out who wrote it first, then I could call whoever it was and explain to them that I couldn't read. To my shock, the last word on the page was "M O M". Above it was "L O V E," Suddenly, the door burst open. "What's that?" Dad snapped, and snatched the letter out of my hand. When he read it over, his eyes burned in rage. I flinched, bracing myself for impact. His open palm slapped me hard across the face. "Calm down, James. He can't read," Francesca told him, not sounding the least bit suprised or upset. "This," he roared, "Is not for you to read! Do you understand?" "But it had my name on it!" I screamed loudly. I couldn't stand this shit anymore. "THAT IS MY MAILBOX!" Dad shouted. "AND YOU DON'T TOUCH IT! EVER!" "She's my mom," I found myself saying. His fist flew into my face, and I blacked out. __________________________________________________________________ I woke up in my bed, with a slab of steak over my eye. I immediately removed it and threw it on the ground. It was quickly eaten by our new border collie puppy, Disco. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom to wash my face. My eye was completely purple. Shit! That did it. I couldn't take it any longer. I grabbed my cell phone, then bolted down the stairs and out of the house. "Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?" I heard Dad's angry voice from the kitchen. I booked it down the street and out of my neighborhood. On the way, I called Uncle Kirk, telling him which direction I was bound. "I'm on the way," he replied, and hung up. It seemed like forever, but his Land Cruiser finally came into view as I streaked down Palm Street. He pulled to a stop, and I jumped into the car. "Ryan!" he cried when he saw my face. "What happened to your eye?" "I'll explain - we have to get out of here!" I gasped. I hadn't even noticed that I was crying. When we got to Uncle Kirk's house, he put a bag of ice over my eye. Then he sat down, putting his head in his hands. I was the first to speak. "I got a letter from my mom." He looked up sharply, alarmed. "I'm trying to read. I really am. And I could read my name on the envelope. Then I looked at the end of the letter, and I saw 'Love, Mom' at the end of it. He told me I wasn't allowed to read my own mail. I bet she's been writing to me for a long time and he tore up all her letters! I hate him!" I burst out. "Oh, my God," Kirk said softly. "I can't believe this." "I'm running away," I made up my mind right there and then. "I know you can't keep me because of the band. So I'm running away, and-" "Stop," Kirk cried. "You can't run away, Ryan." "Can too!" I exclaimed. "Come on, Uncle Kirk. If somebody was hurting you, wouldn't you run away?" He looked pained. Finally, he choked out, "Come here." I walked over to where he was sitting, and he pulled me into his lap. I barely fit since I was almost as tall as him, but I needed the comfort. "I'd like to share something with you that's kind of personal," he said softly. "I don't know, maybe it could help. But my dad was like that too." I jerked my head up. I wasn't sure what to say, so I didn't say anything. "But I didn't run away," he continued. "Why?" I asked. "You didn't have to take it. It's against the law, right? There was this kid at school, Billy, and his parents got arrested cos they were whopping him too." "Well, back then people didn't see it as being illegal. At least not like they do now." "But it's against the law now. If it wasn't gonna break up Metallica, I think he should go to jail!" I yelled. Kirk had tears in his eyes. "You're such a smart kid. You know so much . . ." "If I'm smart, why can't I read? Everybody thinks I'm dumb." "You are NOT dumb. Believe me when I say that," Kirk insisted. "And I think your safety is more important than-" he stopped right in the middle of his sentence. "No. You can still be in Metallica, and I'll still be safe. I'm running away." I got up off his lap - just as Kirk's phone rang. My cell phone was on vibrate and had rung several times, but of course I hadn't answered it. "Don't answer it!" I shouted as Kirk checked the caller ID. By the look on his face I could tell who it was. "I can't lie to him. Then the band would definitely be over," was all he said. "DON'T ANSWER IT, OR I'LL RUN AWAY RIGHT NOW!" I shrieked. So he didn't answer it. He was almost shaking. "They're gonna come here anyway," he wheezed hoarsely. I didn't want Kirk to get in trouble. But I didn't want to face Dad, either. "You're right. So I gotta get out of here anyway." "WAIT-" shouted Kirk, but I had already taken off and bolted out of the house . . . just as Dad swerved into the driveway. Kirk was running out of the house. "James, I'm so sorry," he said as Dad got out of the car. "It's isn't your fault, Kirk," Dad replied curtly. "It's Ryan. He is nothing but a troublemaker, and I apologize that he has come to your house telling you wild stories." He turned to me. "You apologize to your uncle, RIGHT NOW, for troubling him!" "S-Sorry," I coughed out. Dad's hand clamped around my wrist, and he practically threw me into the car. All my uncle could do was stand there in shock as we pulled away. |
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| Lucifer's Angel | May 6, 2008, 3:34 pm Post #19 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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I just hate James in this story, poor Ryan There's got to be more to this, why does James hate his sons so much? I'd love to read more
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| Lady Hammett | May 6, 2008, 6:05 pm Post #20 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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He doesn't hate them. He just doesn't understand why they are failing to read and has no idea how to handle it. |
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| Lady Hammett | May 6, 2008, 6:05 pm Post #21 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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When the lunch schedule changed, I got lucky. I was in Lunch C, which had a small number of people, and Marcella and Mindy were in my lunch. Cali was not! I sat with Mindy and Marcella. Mindy also invited her friend Josh - who danced at Cali's studio. "Why don't you join?" he asked me. "I mean, you liked it, right?" "My dad said no," I groaned. He rolled his eyes. "Thinks it's sissy, doesn’t he? My stepdad does. But he isn't my real dad, so it's not his decision." He grinned. I said nothing. I almost wished Dad wasn't my real dad. But how did that make any sense? Mindy and Josh knew to ignore Cali and her crap. Josh went to the boys' dance classes - now that a couple more boys had joined, they made a boys' class at the ballet studio. He used to do partner dances with the girls, but when they put him with Cali once, he was turned off from ever dancing with them again! "She's a creep alright," he agreed with Mindy and me. Thank goodness that I had friends that would stick around, hopefully. Everybody else had friends, even Marcella. Not only did she have friends at school but she also had Tye-Orion, Uncle Rob's son. Tye was a couple years younger than her but they got along like a house on fire. Cali's best friend in the world was Myles Ulrich. Myles went to a different school, but our families were thinking about sending them both to the same prep school next year. They were both in the same grade, both born in 1998. Myles was just as snotty as Cali and that's probably why they got along so well. I hated it when they ganged up on me. I didn't get along with either of the Ulrich boys very well. Layne was a year younger than me, but he tended to tag along with Myles and Cali. Sometimes he hung out with Marcella and Tye - it just depended on his mood. But he never chilled with me, and I figured I just wasn't GOOD enough for him. My favorite relation to the band, actually, was Uncle Kirk. You're probably thinking, why wasn't it Uncle Rob since he was the bass player? Well, I liked Uncle Rob a lot, but Kirk was the coolest and most laid back. You know how with some people you can get into a conversation for hours with them and it just feels natural? That's the way it was with my uncle Kirk. I got along well with his wife, Lani, too. I loved spending time with them at their house and ranch and they seemed to enjoy having me over - even if they didn't have any kids. Often I would take my bass over so Kirk and I could jam. Cali began having both dance recitals and stage performances all over the state. She and Myles (who played drums like his dad) had put together a band (of course I knew that me playing bass for them was not an option, despite the disappointment of Mom, Dad, Lars and Rob. Kirk knew that Cali and I didn't get along so he understood.) Would you believe that idiot Carl Rodgers ended up playing bass for them? I didn't even know he played bass! So it was Cali on guitar and vocals, Carl on bass, and Myles on drums. They finally named their band The Asylum Inmates. Lamo! Anyway, Cali had dance recitals and band performances all over. The Asylum Inmates began to get popular, considering two of Metallica's children were in it. They had a rather punkish or even grungish sound - perhaps much like Hole. But Cali was crazier than Courtney Love of course. I got jealous, so jealous that I refused to view any of Cali's performances. Mom and Dad got angry, of course, that I refused to support my sister. "This sibling rivalry shit has got to stop!" Dad screamed one night. But he knew he was fighting a losing battle, and whenever I was absent from Cali's activities, I spent that time with Kirk and Lani. "I'd rather jam with you than her any day," I told my uncle one day at his house while Cali and Myles were doing Battle of the Bands somewhere near LA. "Besides, she won't jam with me anyhow." "It's not easy being the middle kid, is it?" Kirk asked me. "I was." "Yeah, it hella sucks," I responded. "Cali makes all the decisions, Marcella gets babied, and I get nothing. The worst thing, though, is that Marcella is two years younger than me and she can read. I'm almost nine and I can't." I hadn't told many people this yet, not even my favorite uncle. Kirk looked absolutely shocked. "Really?" he exclaimed. I groaned. "I hope you don't think I'm dumb-" I started. "No!" Kirk cried. "It's just that, you are so much like . . ." His voice trailed off. "I mean, first you ended up playing bass, and now . . ." "You mean like Ryan?" I burst out. Kirk hesitated. Finally, he asked, "How much do you know about Ryan?" "Everything I can know without Dad murdering me," I told him. "I think he's awesome. Cali thinks he's a traitor to the family and hates him, but I don't care what she thinks. I hate her. And Marcella, well she just doesn't know. If she does, she doesn't care." Kirk cleared his throat softly. "Your brother liked to spend time here a lot, like you. He and I were very close." I felt a tingling sensation in my spine. Kirk had been Ryan's favorite uncle too? And Ryan couldn't read either? "So Ryan couldn't read when he was my age?" I questioned. "No, and ever since he left - well, since he was, what, nine or ten when he left? He still couldn't read when he went." My mouth dropped open. This was spooky! "Kirk," I said earnestly, "Is there any way I can make contact with him? Does he still contact you?" We were in the kitchen, and Kirk motioned for me to come over to the table to take a seat across from him. I did. "Castor, how old are you?" "Almost nine," I replied. "If I were to tell you something just between the two of us-" "I'd never tell anyone! Especially not Dad," I cried eagerly. "I have had some contact with Ryan since. He says that I am his favorite uncle." "Wow!" I exclaimed. "Do you think that I could meet him through you?" "No, I'm sorry," said Kirk immediately. "There's just no way that we could do it without your dad finding out. But when you're older, I'm sure there are ways you could find him yourself." "I don't want to wait," I insisted. "Well, the other thing is, and I hate to say this, Castor, but I don't know whether he is interested in meeting any of you guys. He wanted to move on with his life, I'm afraid." It made sense, and I nodded. I had heard about people finding long lost relatives only to be rejected. "Anyway," Kirk continued, "I just want you to know that Ryan was a special person. He was a great kid. And you just remind me of him a lot." I was so happy that I wanted to cry. Ryan had been cool and majorly respected by my favorite uncle, and now he was telling me that I was just as cool and respectable! That was when I decided that I was going to find Ryan, no matter what it took. |
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| Wishful | May 7, 2008, 4:43 am Post #22 |
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Cliff and Lars Lover
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Hate you James!(at least in this ) I'm absolutely loving this dearie, can't wait for more! Oh and i recognise this from the old board too, started reading it before we moved here! |
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| Lucifer's Angel | May 7, 2008, 8:56 am Post #23 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Yeah, I hate James in this too, Cali is such a little brat, she's just like her parents. I hope Castor can find Ryan
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| Lady Hammett | May 7, 2008, 10:50 am Post #24 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Another painful testimony from Ryan: As soon as we got home, Dad ordered Francesca to set up an appointment for a security alarm to be installed. Then he dealt with me in the upstairs bathroom, whopping me with the belt until I could hardly move. It is Dad’s opinion that when a kid is in trouble, he should be sent to the bathroom, not his bedroom. “If you send him to his bedroom,” I heard Dad say once, “He’ll have his Playstation and bass and other toys in there to play with. No. You send him to the bathroom, and then he'll have the toilet there and can't whine about needing to piss.” So I sat there in the bathroom for what seemed like forever. My back hurt, and to ignore the pain, I played a game with myself. I drank water from the tap, as much as I could, then waited to see how long I could hold it when I had to use the toilet. Then when I couldn’t hold it anymore, I peed. I know that may sound weird to you, but I was in there for hours and bored out of my mind. I even took a shower a couple times, but that just hurt my back more. I must have passed out, fallen asleep or something. Because eventually I woke up, and I was in my bed. "You've been sleeping since Tuesday," I heard Dad's deep, monotone voice. "It's Thursday now." Thursday? Great. School would be starting up again soon, and I couldn't go there looking like this! But then I realized that I was mistaken. You see, Metallica was embarking on another tour soon, and I would be getting my private tutor back since I always went with them. I was relieved that we were going on tour again - it meant Dad couldn't get away with beating me up, and I could be with Uncle Kirk whenever I wanted to. But tours always ended, and I still would have to go home. I wasn't sure whether I could bear it. Dad didn't even ask how I felt, nor did he say sorry about what he'd done. Instead, he said, "We've installed an alarm system in this house. It will emit three strong beeps whenever you open a window or door, so don't even bother trying to run away again. You hear me?" I opened my mouth to respond, but realized I couldn't speak. My face felt sore and numb. My whole body felt like it was going to explode in pain. "DID YOU HEAR ME?" Dad hollered. I forced myself to nod my head. Pain shot through my neck and down to my shoulders. "We're having dinner soon. Your mother is cooking." I hated it when he called her my mother. I wanted to scream that she wasn't, but I still couldn't talk. When Dad called that it was dinnertime, I could not move. I could hear him telling Francesca that I was obviously too stubborn and sulky to come down to dinner, so I'd have to go without. I was starving. Didn't he fucking realize that I was in too much pain to move? Of course Francesca couldn't be bothered to bring me up any food, either. I hated her too. That was when it dawned on me - this new kid that she was pregnant with would get treated like royalty, and I would continue to be the whipping boy. I had to run away from this place, or I might die. The next morning, I was so hungry that I thought I would die from weakness. I was woken by the three strong beeps that meant someone was opening a window or door. Those three strong beeps were already starting to get on my nerves. I could move this time, but barely. I forced myself to crawl from the bed, and gently fall to the floor. I grabbed the dresser and pulled myself upright. I slowly put one leg in front of the other, trying to walk normal. I cried because I wished Uncle Kirk were here to give me a hug. He'd never let something like this happen. Why couldn't I have been born to him instead, and he could've been a good dad who loved me? I could've had curly black hair instead of my pale, straw-blond strands that resembled hay. Nobody would call me a dumb blond at school. It just wasn't fair that I couldn't be his son instead. My fantasies were interrupted. "Stop your crying!" Dad's voice roared at me. Oh, that's right - boys couldn't cry, 'cos it meant you were a sissy. I knew this wasn't true because when boys cried anywhere else in public, their parents didn't yell at them for crying. Just another reason why I hated this place. My knees buckled when I got to the kitchen. My dad grabbed my armpits, lugged me up, and pushed me butt-first into a chair. I was dazed out of my mind. I remember Francesca setting a bowl of mushy cereal in front of me, and I ate like a horse. But when I was done, I felt my body slump to the ground, and pain shot up my back. The world swam in front of my eyes. "Shit," he said softly, looking at me in shock. "Oh, shit." Then he picked up the phone and called 911. "Um, my son was outside playing football, and he hurt his back. He can’t move," I heard Dad tell the dispatcher. What a fucking liar. I hated football - as a matter of fact, I hated all sports, which was another reason Uncle Kirk and I got along so well. I wished I could be Ryan Hammett and grow black curly hair and never come back to this place ever again. A few minutes later, I heard the ambulance wailing as it pulled into the driveway. The paramedics hoisted me on to the stretcher and off we went. When I got to the hospital, I asked if I could make phone calls. "As long as they're local," the nurse replied. "Now you relax, and I'll be right back, okay?" She handed me the phone. I immediately called Uncle Kirk using my good hand. He had been in the middle of lunch (it was lunchtime already?) with his girlfriend, Lani, but he said that they'd be over immediately. I tried to call Uncle Jason, but he wasn't picking up the phone. I left a message. My back was X-rayed and nothing was broken. But my broken skin from the beltings caused great concern among the staff. "Will I be going back now?" I asked them, trying to disguise the dread in my voice. "Actually, no. We need to examine some of these other cuts and bruises on your body, and treat them accordingly. We will be asking you some questions about how they got there." Shit, here we go, I thought. They transferred me to the examination room and told me to take off my clothes. I did, and two of the nurses and the doctor were thoroughly looking all over my body at the cuts and bruises there. After taking several notes, they finally told me to put my clothes back on. Then came the round of questions about how I had gotten into this shape. My stomach churned as I told them lies. I wondered whether I should just tell them the truth. But then I'd never see Uncle Kirk or Uncle Jason again because they would lock me up for being bad. Or at least, that was the impression Dad and Francesca had given me. I told them I was a bad boy and was always doing things to hurt myself. I had fallen out of trees, down stairs, played football, and everything was my fault. I could tell they weren't buying it. "We're going to transfer you back to your room, young man, and then we'll discuss a treatment plan for your injuries," was all they told me. I was taken back to the room I had started out in. I was told that I had guests waiting in the lobby. "Who are they?" I asked. "Apparently your uncle and aunt," was the reply. "Yes!" I exclaimed. That meant it was Kirk and Lani. They came in, looking nervous and worried. Finally, Lani spoke up. "We have to do something, Kirk. We have to tell somebody." Kirk put his arm around her. If it hadn't been for the fact that Kirk was half-Filipino, they might have been able to pass for relations, with their black hair, brown eyes, and high cheekbones. Lani was Hawaiian, so I guess it made sense. Or maybe I was just so pale and fair that it seemed that way! "I don't know what to do," Kirk choked out. "We're about to go on tour, and he'll be with us. We can watch him and make sure nobody hurts him during that time." "Yes, but what about when we all get off tour again? Then what?" Lani asked. "We'll be back to where we are right now." "Well," Kirk said thoughtfully, "Maybe if we anonymously told the police, and they came to see him, maybe it would scare James into stopping. I don't know." "We're gonna have to," Lani agreed. They both came up and hugged me. They had also bought me a Game Boy Pocket (I didn't have one of those, and wasn't sure how Uncle Kirk knew) and some games to keep me occupied while I was here. I thanked them - just as the nurse announced that "my parents" were here. Uncle Kirk and Aunt Lani exchanged glances. They engaged in brief conversation with Dad and Francesca, and told them that they had bought me a Game Boy Pocket and some games. Dad thanked them for getting me the gifts and visiting. They hugged me goodbye one more time, exchanged glances again, and left. The emotional emptiness of them leaving hurt more than the pain from my cuts and bruises. |
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| Lady Hammett | May 7, 2008, 10:51 am Post #25 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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And on a much lighter note, from Castor: Aunt Lani taught me how to ride horses. I mean, Uncle Kirk helped me a lot too, but Lani was the expert. She had even ridden them for show when she was a kid. I was impressed when she showed me all the medals and trophies she had won. One weekend when Cali's band was playing in Seattle, I went up to the ranch with my aunt and uncle, and Lani decided to give me a lesson on how to jump. We used an English saddle, on a horse named Riske. "Now, starting stationary, you should practice your posture first," Lani instructed. "You're going to lift your butt about two inches off the saddle and lean forward. That way, when the horse jumps up, you won't fall backward off the horse." It made good sense to me. I practiced raising my butt as I leaned towards the horse's neck. "But not too far - otherwise you won't be able to sit back down quickly," Aunt Lani warned. I did as she said. Once I got the posture down, we practiced with the horse moving over the stakes that were just on the ground. Then we got around to setting up the stakes at the lowest setting. I mounted the horse again after helping Lani set up. "Are you ready?" she asked me. "Sure am!" I announced. Then I tapped my heels into the horse's sides and off we went. I was nervous, of course. Who wouldn't be on their first jump? I braced myself. Then, when we got to the style, I hoisted my butt off the saddle as Riske bounded over the wood. "Woohoo!" I cheered. When we were done with the lesson, all three of us took a ride into the woods. We ended up racing each other, but Lani beat us of course. She was the pro. I watched her long black hair wave in the wind. I didn't really understand it back then, but I kind of had a crush on her. I thought she was cute, with her brown eyes and Hawaiian features. She smelled wonderful - kind of like cinnamon and honey. I asked her what perfume she wore, and when she told me, I got it for her for Christmas. She thought it was the sweetest thing a kid had done for her, and it made me feel special. Uncle Kirk cooked that night, and boy was he a good cook! I loved his cooking so much that I was dying to become a vegetarian. I wondered if Ryan was, and wished I could read. Then I could go to his website and find out more about him. Later on, Kirk's cell phone rang. He picked it up, and I could hear a man's excited voice boom through the earpiece. "They did? That's wonderful!" Kirk cried. "Congratulations, James!" What on earth was he talking about? When he finally got off the phone, I asked, "What was that all about?" "Your sister's band got a record deal!" he told me. My mouth dropped open in shock. Sheesh, they were only ten for goodness sakes. Even the youngest member of Hanson hadn't been that young when they got famous, had he? I rolled my eyes. Cali, the famous rock star, while her brother simply remained a shadow. Oh well, her half-brother didn't! "Wow, who took them on?" I heard Lani call from the living room. She had The Cosby Show on, but I don't think she was really paying attention to it. "604 Records, in Vancouver, apparently," Kirk replied. The subject was then dropped. I could tell that they felt sorry for me not being able to be in a band. They both told me I was a good bass player. "Guys, do you know any kids that are interested in starting a band? I want to get going on this. Not just to keep up with her, but because I want a chance at this too," I said. Kirk looked thoughtful. "Some of our friends have kids . . . now who plays an instrument?" Lani thought out loud. "Who was that one kid that asked you some questions about playing guitar, Kirk?" "I think that was Chad, you know, Kent's son. But they live down in LA." "Aw, man," I groaned. "Well, what about Cindy? Ray and Sue's daughter? I thought she played drums." "No, she quit," Kirk remembered. "At least, I think she did. But we can ask." "We'll do our best, Castor. We want you to succeed too," Lani assured me. "Well, I guess it doesn't really matter right now," I told them. "I mean, we're all going on tour soon and everything." That's right, Metallica had another tour coming up. So the best thing to do was wait. Of course, it turned out that Cali's band was going to be one of the openers. There were four bands opening, and they were one of them! It wasn't fair. I was desperate to keep up, and of course, desperate to find Ryan. |
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| Lucifer's Angel | May 7, 2008, 11:03 am Post #26 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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I just can't get over how abusive James is to his sons I'm no psychologist, but I think that James wants sons who are just like him: macho, athletic and talented, and in his eyes his sons are failures because of that. And Fran probably wants sons who are like their fathers. That hypothesis sounds like it makes sense. And Kirk and Lani are much better to them than their own parents
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| Lady Hammett | May 7, 2008, 11:26 am Post #27 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Good analysis - what you say is true in this story Sadly, this is the view of many families in the world today. |
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| Lady Hammett | May 7, 2008, 11:28 am Post #28 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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And now, in Ryan's words, Cali is about to be born! __________________________________________________________________ At the hospital, I was under a lot of pressure to tell the truth. Finally, I told them that I was being bullied at school. And what with the way bullying is and always will be a problem, that was the story they bought. Although I was unhappy at home, I figured I would stick it out for the Reload tour coming up. Dad never went as far as he did with the abuse again. He actually started acting kind of funny, not wanting to talk to me, but that was better than yelling at me all the time. I sensed that maybe he had realized that he had gone too far. Francesca didn't talk to me as much either, and with time I wondered which was worse - them being horrible to me or giving me the silent treatment. Maybe Kirk and Lani figured that since the abuse wasn't continuing, they didn't need to call the police. I knew that it probably wasn't worth jeopardizing the band, anyway, and I just let life go on. I never discussed the matter with Kirk or Lani again (or Jason for that matter). The week before the Reload tour, I happily withdrew from my classes at Sunrise Elementary School. I didn't have any friends there. As a matter of fact, Terry Taylor, Dorie Maynard, and Richard Brighton all stared at me funny when they saw me getting something signed by the teacher. But when the teacher explained to everybody that I was leaving to go on tour with my father, everybody seemed to be trying their hardest not to jump up and cheer. They all had smug smiles on their faces. When I left the room, Terry, Dorie and Rich all slapped each other high-fives. I hated this school and all the people here. Dad hired a new tutor for me. She was an old lady named Ms. Hitchens, and she'd be going on the road with us. She wasn't very nice. Under my breath I called her Ms. Bitchens. "Why can't you read?" she demanded, flat out, while we were alone in the house and Dad was talking about the tour at Uncle Lars's house with the bandmates and some other people (I can't remember who). "Um, I don't know." "How old are you?" "Eight." "Nine in July," she snapped at me (if she knew, why the hell did she ask?) "We're going to crack down when we get out there on tour," she informed me. When we were done with the lesson, I still had to listen to her. She rambled on about how she had never been out of California, and this was her chance, because she was dying to see Paris. "I HAVE to see Paris before I die," she told me, "And I'm gonna die soon, I know. I'm seventy-five years old." Sheesh, some people need to learn when to quit, right? "We won't be in Paris long," I replied. "It'll be for the show, then we'll move on to the next town." "I just want to see Paris! I don't care how brief it is!" she snarled. The subject was dropped right there. I didn't care if this woman was an old hag. I'd still have Uncle Kirk, and Aunt Lani, and Uncle Jason with me while we were on the road, and she was not going to get in my way of having a good time with them! Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that Lani became my aunt by then because she had married Uncle Kirk in Hawaii. Dad, Francesca and I had attended the wedding, and I got to be the ring bearer! Being the ring bearer was fun. I hadn't gotten to do anything at Dad and Francesca's wedding. __________________________________________________________________ Despite Ms. Hitchens, I had a great time back out on the road again. Dad and Francesca didn't talk to me much but they weren't mean to me either. I spent a lot of time hanging out with Uncle Kirk after hours (hitting the town and exploring) or taking bass lessons from Uncle Jason. We got to Paris in June, to Ms. Hitchens's happiness. That same day, Francesca had to go to hospital. I knew that the baby must be on its way. It happened after the show was over, right in the middle of the night. Dad woke me up and hissed bluntly, "Francesca and I are going to hospital. You're to stay in Uncle Kirk's suite. It has a fold-out bed." Bleary eyed and groggy, I did as I was told. "Are you excited?" I remember Kirk asking me. "I don't care. I just want to sleep," I answered, and he tucked me into the fold-out bed. The next day, I felt two hands shoving me awake. It was Ms. Hitchens, out of all people! "Ryan! Your sister was born right here in beautiful Paris, isn't it wonderful?" she chirped. I looked at my watch. It was six in the morning. A girl. Great. Now could I go back to bed? But Uncle Kirk was already up, which said something, didn't it? I groaned, yawned, and cracked my knuckles. I didn't dislike the thought of having a half-sibling. But I didn't really care, either. I didn't care about any of them. What I cared about was sleep! Apparently they were still in hospital. The tour was being postponed by one day, so we would stay in Paris for one more day, much to Ms. Hitchens's delight. "Let's get some breakfast," Aunt Lani said. I hadn't even seen her walk into the living room. We all went down to the hotel restaurant and ate. I was actually kind of nervous. All of a sudden I had a sister, just like that. I didn't even know her name - and I didn't ask. That could wait. Uncle Lars was already at the hospital. He had already been declared to be her godfather. I never knew where Uncle Jason was. He didn't come with us to the hospital. When we got there, I was still half-asleep and in a haze. We entered the room they were in, and I heard her crying. I sat down in a chair nearest the door. Dad was smiling. I hadn't seen him smile in a long time, I realized. Had he smiled when I was born? I'd never know. "Cali Tee," he told me. "I beg your pardon?" I asked him, still half-asleep. Was he referring to California? And what was "tee"? A T-shirt? "Cali Tee is what we have named her." Huh? He had to be joking, right? I said nothing. The nurse walked in. "You must be Big Brother Ryan," she greeted me. "Would you like to hold her?" "Um, sure," I replied. I felt completely neutral about this. The little girl was placed in my arms. In my opinion she looked just like Dad, with her almondish shaped blue eyes and thin lips. How come his genes were so strong in her but they barely showed up in me? I guess she was kind of cute. But I couldn't bring myself to feel the kind of love for her that Dad and Francesca did. I convinced myself that it was because she was only half related to me, and that when I had my own kid one day, I would be just as happy as Dad and Francesca were. It had to be. "Well?" Dad's voice interrupted my thoughts. I didn't know what to say. I wasn't happy nor unhappy. I felt monotone. Everything was just happening, just like everything else was happening in the world. I just shrugged my shoulders. "Something good finally happens in this family and that's the most enthusiasm you can show?" he snapped as he gathered her back into his arms. Something good finally happened in the family. Even though I didn't like him and was trying not to care about him, those words still stung a little. Was I not good enough? Or was it because I wasn't part of his new family with Francesca? All I knew was that nothing made sense at that point. |
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| Lucifer's Angel | May 7, 2008, 11:33 am Post #29 |
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Heavy Metal Seanchai
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Wow, that was harsh I guess James is glad that the kid is born, she sounds like a cute baby, but hopefully she won't have the same problems that her brothers have. Poor kids
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| Lady Hammett | May 7, 2008, 11:37 am Post #30 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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Haha, well remember, this is the same Cali that is terrorizing her brother Castor years later! These are all the exact same people, told by two different people in two different times (Ryan in 1998 and Castor in 2008). |
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There's got to be more to this, why does James hate his sons so much? I'd love to read more 
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8:49 PM Jul 10