Chapter 5
True Friends
"Finding true friendship
Is like wetting your pants:
everyone can see it, but only
you can feel the warmth."
~ Oscar Wilde, 1952
You never forget your first friendships. Those early childhood bonds, when you're unburdened by the weight of the world, can be the most meaningful relationships one ever has. These are the friends who will defend you blindly in the face of any bully who tries to shove you out the door of the moving school bus. They will stand by you when the teacher reads your essay to the class as an example of the worst piece of writing ever submitted in the history of schooling. They will console you when the girl you like rejects your advances and tells you that you make her want to vomit. They will be there for you when your mother forgets your birthday and your father sets your pants on fire while you're wearing them. Most of all, they will be there for you through those awkward years of adolescence when every second of every day seems like the worst moment of your life.
For me, those bonds came in the form of the three young boys who befriended me on my first day clad in menswear. From that day on, the four of us were inseparable. We did everything together. We tried out for all the same clubs and sports teams. When we got rejected by those groups, we made up our own games and formed our own clubs. We rode the bus together. We did homework together. We took blood oaths together. We were the four amigos. Nothing could come between us.
When one of us got beat up on the school yard, which was a weekly occurrence, the other three would exact revenge on the offending bully. Usually this took the form of stashing one of my mother's sandwiches under the seat of their car. I hated to waste that chewy goodness, but it was for a good cause. When one of us got teased by the popular girls, the rest of us would team up to spread detailed rumors about the promiscuity of these young ladies. When a member of our crew had their clothes stolen during gym class, the rest of us would lend whatever article of clothing we could spare to minimize the nudity and embarrassment. We always looked out for each other.
I recall one fateful day when I inadvertently boarded the school bus with my fly down. The mockery seemed endless. When my three pals realized what was going on, they all dropped their zippers as well in solidarity. It really warmed my heart to see them accept their own embarrassment in order to lessen my own. Our buddy, Tommy, unfortunately took it one step too far. He tried to open the fly of another students' pants, got punched in the face, and landed all four of us in the principal's office. Apparently some of the young ladies on the bus thought we were attempting to expose ourselves to them. It was deemed an inappropriate and vulgar display. We all got suspended. Poor Tommy was accused of sexual assault. In the end, none of it really mattered because we knew we were in it together.
On another occasion, my father had disappeared on one of his little excursions and my mother had retreated to her sister's house. As they made their sudden departures, neither parent seemed to have realized that they left my brother and I locked out of the house. Johnny went to stay with his girlfriend for the duration. I asked if I could tag along, but he responded with, "Find your own spot to squat, loser!" So I called upon my three chums to see who would take me in. Tommy was the first to volunteer. What a guy! His parents, however, weren't so keen on the idea. They said that getting involved with John and Valerie's kid was just begging for trouble. So, I was out on the streets again. That's when my buddy Neil stepped up. After my first meal with his family, his parents called me uncivilized and kicked me out. I believe they compared my table manners to that of a rabid raccoon. At any rate, I was left seeking shelter once more. Greg was the last of our crew to offer me sanctuary. By the time his parents ejected me from their home for some unfounded reason, my own folks had returned to our homestead. So it became a moot point. Still, I will never forget how my friends offered me help when I needed it most.
Another bonding experience we shared was when we all got locked into adjacent lockers after gym class. Some members of the football team thought it would be a real gas if they locked each of us inside the tiny spaces with their freshly worn gym socks and jockstraps. When I think back on the incident now, I can still recall the exact smell of that dank locker. However, those jocks made one mistake. They put us all next to one another. We may have been small, but we were clever. We managed to loosen the bolts holding the locker dividers in place and push the walls out of the way. We were still locked in, but at least we were together. By the time the gym coach came to release us, we were all cuddled up with one another, sharing a good laugh at the expense of the meatheads who thought they could outsmart us.
Then there were our adventures in romance. We were pre-teens at the time, and so we of course were showing some interest in the fairer sex. We each had our eye on a particular young lady. Whenever a middle school dance was upcoming, we would attempt to galvanize one another with enough courage to ask the object of our affection to be our dates. We would tell each of our friends what their most admirable qualities were and how to best present themselves. We would role play in order to act out various scenarios of how we might make our requests. Then, of course, when we were each inevitably rejected in turn, we would be there to console one another and then attend the dance, stag, together.
As is the case with most of our life experiences, all good things must come to an end. I would like to be able to tell you that I have remained friends with this trio of boys through all these years. At the time, we certainly all thought we would be together for life. In the sixth grade we made a pact declaring just that. We said we would be best buddies forever. Then we each sliced a finger open with a razor blade and mashed our blood together in declared, eternal camaraderie. It seemed we were forever bonded from that moment forward, staph infections aside.
But something changed over the summer between middle school's end and high school's beginning. Those hot, humid months brought about unforeseen events that would negate that promise we had made to one another. Something happened while we were away from the school halls. My friends, one by one in quick succession, hit puberty. I, on the other hand, did not. When we stepped onto campus at Central High, Tommy, Neil, and Greg were each eight inches taller than me. They were able to grow beards. They were sprouting body hair in places that I found both alarming and intriguing. Their voices had dropped and they were producing body odor like nobody's business. In short, they looked like men and I was still a boy.
So, of course, my friends did what any young men would have done in that situation. They kicked me out of the group. That was their right and I'd have done the same to any one of them if the hormonal fates had been reversed. Although, I will say that it stung a bit when they pushed me into the middle of a group of very popular girls in the quad at lunchtime and pulled down my pants. I could have done without that shame and ridicule altogether. At the very least, I wish it had happened on a day that I was wearing underwear. But underwear days in the McNeal household were seen as a luxury, not a necessity—something I thought my friends understood. It was another painful moment, both physically and emotionally, when they tied me to the flagpole on the campus football field and savagely beat me. I could have done without that. The mockery that followed when the football team started their practice and found me nearly unconscious, still tethered to the pole, is hardly a fond memory either. Nonetheless, that experience taught me a valuable lesson. Behind every toothy grin lies an extra row of teeth.
I made other friends as the years went by. There was Miss Lunt, the high school guidance counselor. She would sometimes take pity on me and let me hide out in her office when I was having an especially rough day at school. She always kept a partial bottle of wine in her bottom desk drawer, which made for a nice little afternoon pick me up. She was a good woman.
Then there were the guys from the wrestling team who took me into their folds for a while. Out of the blue, they started hanging around my locker between classes, inviting me to hang out with them after school, and genuinely showing an interest in me as a person. I was surprised that they so actively pursued my friendship. I was used to finding friends through some sort of shared torment or embarrassment. This was a nice change of pace. After some initial trepidation I allowed myself to embrace their companionship. We were great chums for a while. But, it would appear my initial skepticism was well founded. Before long it became painfully obvious that their camaraderie was not sincere. As it turned out, my own brother had put them up to befriending me on a dare. Once they had proven that they would stoop to what was apparently a humiliating low for high school kids of their stature, they made clear this faux friendship was over by tying me to the chain link fence behind the bleachers, pelting me with water balloons and leaving me there, literally hung out to dry on a bitter February morning. As I waited for someone from the administration to notice me there and set me free, I felt an odd sense of gratitude toward my original group of friends from middle school. Tommy, Neil, and Greg may have ditched me when I needed them most, but in doing so, they taught me a valuable lesson. They taught me that in every friendship there comes a time when you have to say, "I never liked you. Get lost." It was inevitable. I was quickly learning that it would be better to be on the delivering end of that news than the receiving end. From that moment forward, any time I found myself becoming chummy with someone new, I would make sure to end that friendship before they got the opportunity to do so. If an individual seemed supportive and empathetic, I made sure to tell that loser to get out of my life. If a friend showed any signs of caring about me or taking an interest in my well-being, I knew it was time to tell them to go to hell. That way, I never gave them the upper hand or had to suffer any further rejection. It was a brilliant plan that has served me well over the years. You should try it sometime!
Eventually, of course, I did manage to hit puberty. I was as tall, brawny, and malodorous as the rest of my peers. I thought I might be able to wriggle my way back into the original gang. After all, the only thing that had come between us was my delay in testosterone development. Once the hormonal playing field was level again, I thought we might be able to pick up where we left off. It would appear, though, that was not the case. It seemed I had burned that bridge when I retaliated against their rejection of my friendship by announcing all their darkest secrets over the PA system at school. I suppose it probably didn't help that I also spread rumors about various sexually transmitted diseases they had all contracted from each other. Well, to hell with them. They should have known they would have to get as good as they gave when they messed with Bill McNeal.
Yes, I learned a lot about friendship in those early years. I learned that every person has two wolves inside of them and both those wolves want to betray me. I learned that it's okay to make friends, but that you should never let your guard down around them. I learned that everyone you care about will eventually kick you squarely in the groin if you let them hang around long enough. I learned that a person should only remain in your inner circle for so long as they can provide you with a substantial personal benefit of some sort. Most importantly, I learned that it's not people who really matter. In the end it is money and the things you buy with money that are important.
If you too have found that friends are not to be trusted and fear you will die lonely and unloved, let me share with you something else I have learned along the road to greatness. There is such a thing as a friend that will never leave you—a friend that will never let you down. Read on to the next chapter to learn the secret life lesson of finding eternal friendship.