I'm not dead, I promise! This one was like pulling teeth, despite appearances. Here we go with the the original, planned side stories...my intent was to write these all so they caught up with each other, but I realized that it would take far longer than I wanted, plus I had a few issues.

So..I present to you the first chapter in Ricky's story, feel free to enjoy the slight differences in perspective
(that was my intent) and if you would, respond to this informal poll if you would. Should I release the other chapters like this, or should I ball them up like I wanted to? the wait for new chapters is in your hands!

Once again, standard disclaimers apply.

You want to know about the Myrc days, huh? That's what I call them, the Myrc days. High glory days, when everything made sense. You asked her? Awww hell, that means another night drinking with her and watching bball. Not that I mind that...but sometimes she cries. I should force you to come cheer her up.

Well the Myrc days for me began in early middle school, when I had just moved to this hick town in the middle of nowhere from L.A. I was pretty bummed, moving to a place with nothing to do, and nowhere to go. I walked to the one park we had, the one near the school, and there he was. A guy that was almost a clone of me. same color hair, same size, and a basketball in hand, shooting hoops in the half court set there. He turned and with a casual, open air about him asked:

"Hey man, want to play?" That was it, no sizing me up, no aggression in his demeanor, no attitude. Just a kid being nice. I almost didn't know how to react, I'd seen it so rarely.

"Sure, you got first go, it being your ball and all."

He tossed it to me, i tossed it back, and we went for it. I could tell right away he was good, but I was better, having been growing up on basketball since I could walk. I ended up beating him without too much effort. And what does he do after such an embarrassing event?

"Hey man, great game. that was fun, never have I had my butt kicked so hard. We should do it again, but for now I have to go. You busy tomorrow?"

what? No anger at all? Just good game, I had fun?

"Sure man, same time tomorrow?"

"Around noon is when I'll show up. Sounds cool though, I'm usually here all day Sunday. See you later man, great game!"

And he walked off. Definitely an odd dude.

Since that time, we were mostly inseparable, playing basketball any time we could, hanging out, going to each others homes...our parents got to know each other through us, and also became friends. They often joked they didn't know which child was which, we were so similar and close. We knew everything about each other, and had no secrets. So that Thursday during practice when I saw him zoning out I knew something had to be wrong. So I did what any self respecting friend would do and threw a basketball at his face.

He caught it of course, and it brought him out of the clouds.

"You OK man? Bad thing to be distracted here."

"Yeah I'm fine, Just lost in thought."

"dangerous to do here; better focus."

"Yeah, you're right, don't want coach wondering why I have a concussion."

"Heh."

He still seemed a bit wrapped up, so I watched him. He was limping, and it was throwing his shot off. Did he pull something out on the field? Knowing him it would be very serious before it stopped him, guy was a tank. He made "no pain no gain" a motto and took it to extremes. Other than the limp though, he seemed to be OK, so I let it go.

The next day was the same old crap, school, dealing with idiots as soon as we got there. Huh? Oh yeah we always walked to school together, we lived a block away from each other back then. mutual protection and good conversation. Oh right, tell it like I remember it. OK, here goes.

Myrc met me on the corner, I was playing with a basketball as usual.

"Hey man, take a break, and tell me what you did for English."

I paused the ball work, and thought about it. English was a terrible idea.

"Screw that talk man, tell me if you managed to score the new Avenged Sevenfold album...that release you handed me a few days ago is amazing!"

"Ha, it's not new man, you are so behind the times. That's the third release, the album is a year old. But no, I haven't gotten around to burning you a copy yet; Had to finish that Macbeth paper Mrs. Holmes wanted. I'll do it later today...but I do come bearing rumors. That rumorhasit guy told me that Avenged Sevenfold is almost done with their self titled album, and it will be glorious."

"Nice, you going to be able to score it?"

"You know me man, I wont let it gather mold on a store shelf somewhere. So anyway, English? Macbeth?"

Now this was a downright unhealthy fascination in my opinion. Wonder what brought it on.

"you're that curious? I'll have you know my paper was on how smoking hot Lady Macbeth had to be to get the dude to keep killing everyone he cared about."

"You can't be serious; Mrs. Holmes is going to fail you if you keep doing stuff like that you know."

"Hey I'll have you know it was well thought out. And if you're going to be a critic, what was yours on?"

"Mine was on how his psychological demons and impatience led to not only a disaster, but the worst form of wish fulfillment Macbeth could ever get. How Macbeth couldn't stop his own descent into madness because he couldn't take a step back and recognize the form his insanity took."

Daaaa fuq? Where are the antennae? Did my friend get replaced by an alien while I wasn't looking?

"...whoa man, deep...you win, you'll get an A for sure this time!"

He blinked at me as if not even considering the grade...as if he wrote the paper for it's own sake! I shook my head. I had to be wrong, no way would Myrc do schoolwork just to do it, too much like...well, like work.

We both walked into the school in silence, heading for the first class of the day. Physics. Now the only physics I had to know is that if I threw stuff, it'd eventually come down, so don't stand under it if it's a heavy item, case closed. But the parental powers that be thought I needed more, so this class existed. It wasn't quite as bad as the next class, algebra, but it was pretty bad. Of course part of the reason it sucked was that stuck up SOB Gordo 'flash' Thompson.

I loved the guy like Hitler loved Jews. We used to be chill, you know, a friendly competition once in awhile, maybe some harsh words, but nothing worse really. OK, there were a few fights in middle school as he tried to pick on the new kid, but nothing serious, just standard crap...until he had the nerve to talk shit about my best buddy. That is just a no no in my book, by any standards.

So from that day on, it was on, so to speak. The fact that he was larger than me, almost freakishly large for 14, and outweighed me by some 50 pounds, did not factor into it at all. I had rage on my side. Add to that the fact that he was in the way, acting like a door while talking to his stupid friends.

"Hey fat ass, move, you're hogging up all the air." I got right in his face, Anytime, anywhere, you asshole.

"Hello Gordon, how are you today?" Seems like Myrc didn't feel like trouble today. Oh well.

"Doing pretty good pansy, you want to get Dicky over in your corner before I destroy him?"

Oh. Hell. No.

"Just leaving, Gordo, need to inform the zoo about the escaped gorilla that made it's way to science class. Later."

And there would be a later. But for now, Myrc rounded on me as we made our way to our lab desk.

"What the hell man, can't you leave your feud with Gordo on a slow boil? You know hes going to try and make trouble for us again now. Why you keep baiting that bear..."

"bah, let him try, I'll kick his ass."

"Except last time he almost had you dead till I helped...and it took us both to put him down,"

"Then it's a good thing there are two of us, huh?"

My grin matched his: "whatever...just don't see why you have to antagonize him so much; seriously, what did he do to you that was that bad?"

"You want to see the list again?"

"oh heck no."

"Mr Tanner, Mr Campbell, would you two like some alone time to discuss your issues? Like say, after class in detention?"

"No thank you sir, we're good."

"So I can start class now?"

"Sure thing, Sir."

"Thank you. So today class, it's time to start a week long project...I want kites made of homemade materials, no store bought items except the string, which I will provide. If it flies, you get an A; if not you fail. Time to learn about how birds, bats, and planes defy gravity, as stated on pages 111 through 154 in our texts."

So we read a little bit, we passed notes, we did the general messing around...quietly of course, didn't want to draw the weird stare of Mr. Welch, beloved physics teacher. But the class ended, and we shuffled to the doom known as algebra. Now I'm not saying math is a bad subject of mine...but Mr. Mullins could make a fortune selling tapes of his voice to lull people to sleep; it was better than any background track or white noise machine. The real problem is I was in the middle of the class, right within eye range. I envied Myrc his seat in back, he got to doze off in class any time he wanted, which was most of the time.

Of course, he also spent time talking to that Ralph kid. Now don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Ralph, puke inducing hair notwithstanding... but he had an image that Myrc did not need to have rub off on him. And Myrc, being Myrc, couldn't care less. Can't do much about it though, he never listened. Oh well on to gym. We actually had the earliest gym class, and I had it with most of the scooby gang (the various sports teams). Unfortunately, I also had Gym with a certain blonde gorilla.

That and coach Reynold's idea of a fun time was dodge ball. I think he'd have us play dodge ball every gym if he could get away with it. Which honestly was fine with me, since with my ballwork, I could catch about anything...even Gordo's throws. He ended up sitting on the benches fuming while I led my team to victory, no big deal. A quick shower and off to geography, where we learned about France and the history of the Rhine river. Joy.

The bell rang for lunch after an eternity of an hour, and I joined the press of kids wanting sustenance. My locker was on the way to the cafeteria, so I had a bit of a jump on most everyone else. I grabbed my sack lunch and staked out our table, beating Bill there by about 3 seconds.

"Hey Bill! How are you man?"

"Pretty good Ricky, you?"

"can't complain. Got to knock Gordo out of dodge ball again."

"Man, you should leave him alone. He's going to kill you one of these days."

"He's welcome to try. I can't leave that bastard alone; he's the one who spread all those rumors about Myrc, I'm sure of it."

"You mean the gay thing? Man none of us believe that...I mean if he was, wouldn't he be checking us out? I AM pretty hot."

"Ha you wish. But yeah even if he was wouldn't change that he's a great guy...but he's not. He lusts after Pam, but doesn't ask her out."

"The entire school lusts after Pam. What's up guys?" Rich said, sliding into his usual spot.

"Just talking about how Gordo might be the rumor monger."

"That thug again, sigh. You got him on the brain man, let it slide."

"No way man, I will find the person who spread those rumors. And when I do, I'll ask them politely to stop. Very politely." I slammed my fist into my hand for the needed emphasis.

"Whatever man, no harm no foul. If it was Gordo and you can prove it, I'll back you all the way; but we need to be sure first...it really doesn't sound like his style."

"He has style?"

About that time Myrc strode up from the lunch counter, a tray of glop in hand. He was still limping slightly.

"So...mystery meat that looks kind of like chicken nuggets, green crap thta looks kind of like it might be vegetable medley, and mashed potatoes. 5 bucks says I don't barf it up."

"I'd take that bet, but I fear you're suckering me."

"Oh I am Rich, stomach of cast iron! I only fear corrosion."

"Corro-what?"

"Corrosion, otherwise known as rust."

I chimed in: "You can eat that crap man? I think it moved."

"Unless you want to trade your lunch of the inevitable pbj Ricky, yes, I do intend to eat this crap. Pretty hungry today."

That wasn't going to happen.

"So how was Gym? Still pissed we aren't together for that. I have to deal with some upper classgeeks and Gordo, and the only thing they ever want to do is try to pelt me in dodge ball."

"Heh. It was OK, till Monty stepped out of line, where is that...oh. he's hiding over there."

"What did he do now?" Bill chimed in. He fancied himself our on court team leader (which was ironic, cause no one really listened to him on the court, or at least I didn't).

"Oh was just harassing Ralph, which is stupid, cause Ralph is pretty tough. Pissing him off is like asking Gordo to a dance or three." Myrc glared at me a second, then grinned.

"And I bet you just had to step in, right?" Myrc was always stepping in, east guess there.

"Well you know me, always looking for a reason with some people." He replied with a laugh. He turned to the rest of the table, sporting pretty much the entire team.

"So, first game of the rest of our winning season is tomorrow! You guys up for it!?!"

Of course we cheered loud enough to shake the cafeteria, drawing all eyes and not caring a bit.

The entire lunchroom buzz started up again, a steady drone of nothing talk that was soothing in its own way. All too soon the bell rang and it was back to the grind. Only this time, it was study hall. I did my best to do my homework, as getting it done now meant I didn't have to mess with it later. Our study hall teacher Mr. Mullins brooked no nonsense in his class, as he was fond of telling us, which meant I couldn't pass Myrc a note when I happened to look up from my math text and noticed Myrc's nose dripping blood like a faulty kitchen sink.

The bell rang while I was pondering pissing off Mr. Mullins, and Myrc broke for the door with his usual speed, his limp now much worse, and adding a roll to his walk. What the hell was going on?

Limping or not he made it to English before I did, and seemed fine, no more bloody nose. Except he was talking in class, about how much of a creep Macbeth was, or some such. Myrc participating in English class was well past normalcy. Our teacher, Mrs. Holmes, looked to be in shock as well, as Myrc politely argued with her about whether Macbeth's problems were his own fault or not...I think.

The bell rang as it tends to do, interrupting the class from the twilight zone. Myrc made a beeline to me...at least that was still normal. We did weight training as much as possible, wanting to get a jump on the competition as much as we could. (Of course so did they, but we pretended they didn't.) Weight lifting was one of the few areas I beat Myrc in, not that I was jealous or anything.

"So ready to help me break 120 today?"

"Sure, ready to help me break 140 today?" He rolled his eyes...he was on to me! Don't think he cared though.

"You do that you'll need a different spotter; should I call for Gordon?"

OK maybe he did care a little. I punched him in the arm for that one; he grinned and shrugged it off. The real fireworks started the second we walked into
the weight room.

"So you two decided to show you're ugly mugs here today huh? Sure are brave."

Ahh, Gordon my favorite stress relief.

"Gordon, please give it a rest; we aren't here for you." Myrc, trying to be the peacemaker, even as people talk shit about him.

"Yeah Gordo, just go away and play with your knee pads or something." Darn right I went there.

"Flash! get out here, Coach Reynolds says scrimmage in 10!"

"Ok Coach H, just leaving."

I felt cheated. I mean sure, this is why we picked just after school to use the weight room, but we had a good fight brewing!

"You two going to be OK in here? need any help?"

"No sir, we got it, thanks."

"Ok, yell if you need anything. And Ricky...you shouldn't bait the bear, son."

"Yes coach H, sorry coach H." Why did everyone kiss Gordo's butt? I just couldn't understand it.

At any rate, I went directly to the music in the corner and the disc filled with such hits as "eye of the tiger" to boil the blood, while Myrc messed with the weights, setting them as he desired. I turned around after setting it up as the scorpions started up, to find Myrc already under the bunch, anger
painted on his face.

"Ricky, double check this for me." I gave it a once over.

"It's right man, 110. Having trouble?"

"Wipe that smirk off your face, just wasn't set right I guess. And yes, I know I'm supposed to wait for you; since when has that ever stopped me, wise guy?"

"It's OK man, you can cuss, it's just us here." His mother was very strict on cursing.

"You know I don't like to do that," he reset himself on the bench. 'Though I might have to...did Gordo mess with the weights?"

"Move, let me try."

I lifted it easily. But then, I could always lift more.

"I don't know man, if anything it feels light. Seems fine. Try again?"

"fine, move, showoff."

He positioned again, one hundred percent correctly, got properly under the bar...and couldn't even move it. His confusion was an elephant in the room.

I had a brainstorm.

"Just go over there, and do something...don't look this way. I'll call you back when the bar is ready, think I see what's wrong."

I reduced the weights on my hunch, taking 40 pounds off.

"OK man, try this."

He came back and cleared the idea with some difficulty.

"OK, how light did you make it?

"70 pounds."

"70...!'He put the bar back and let loose with some of the tongue tangling crap I'd ever heard. 'I was at 110 just a week ago!"

"You feel OK man?"

"Yeah that's the odd thing, no pain, no feeling of torn muscles, I feel fine."

"Well something is obviously wrong. You should see a doctor pronto."

"Well I think it's safe to say something is wrong, and you should see a doctor pronto."

"Yeah, safe to say I can't spot you anymore; I'll see if the 'rents can get me in to see Dr. Halleck."

"Sure you'd rather not just go to Logan? I mean Dr. Halleck is just a small town G.P. when you get down to it, used as a sports doc or no."

"Who would know more about some type of sports related injury? Dr. Halleck or some fresh college grad?"

"Good point, So you're sure it's sports related?"

He shook his head at me.

"No not at all, that's why I want to Halleck, he's been my doc since I was born. Screw this, just going to wear the gym clothes home. They need washed
anyway."

"Good plan; why waste the time, right?"

I think I'll just make sure Myrc gets home...when we split up after a walk home in silence, I shadowed him, and he made it home fine, even with that odd gait he picked up. Sighing with relief, I went home myself.

"Hi mom!"

"Hey son of mine, how are you?"

"I'm pretty good; but Myrc is sick. He said he'd tell his mom about it. Would you call her and make sure?"

"Sure thing, How bad is it?"

"Really really bad."

"Ok. Dinner is on the table. When you get done, finish your homework."

"Sure thing; dad home?"

"Not yet, hes working late."

"Alright."

Slightly bummed, I ate the sandwich and chips and opened my bookbag to do my homework. Not really coming out of the homework daze until dad clapped me on shoulder.

"Done yet? it's really your bedtime."

"Oh, crap...yeah I'm done, or close enough...stupid math. How was your day dad?"

"Same old same old...working late, pissing your mom off."

"Yeah I'd be afraid, haven't seen her lately. Off to bed, good luck."

I made my way to my room, picking my way through the mine field and to my bed, but sleep was a long time in coming.