Around the time of my 17th birthday, there was only one girl on my mind. It was Stephanie. She and I still wrote to each other infrequently. I had been out to visit her a few months before. She was really all I could think about at the time, which is why this dream I had was so very strange.
I’m not sure on the exact date, but Friday, February 2, 1990 is my best guess. I was home alone and drinking from a case of Budweiser. I was not drunk, but I was not in the right frame of mind either. That night I had a crazy dream.
I dreamt that a guy called and introduced himself on the phone as Neve’s brother.
“Do you remember Neve?”
Well of course I remembered her, but I said, “I don’t remember Neve ever having a brother.”
He told me that he used to go to school with us back at Vista Heights and that when he got picked on at school I used to stick up for him.
I’ve always prided myself on my ability to remember things and I remembered Neve well. But I didn’t remember her ever having a brother at that school, much less one that I stuck up for when he got picked on.
I did recount the story of Steven Pearson though. Steven was a red haired kid who was in our class. One day his parents had packed an onion with his lunch the way anyone else would get an apple or orange. Steven peeled the skin off that onion like it was an orange and bit into it like it was an apple. He ate that whole onion right in front of everyone and it grossed the guys in our class out.
Naturally Steven got teased for that. Steven was a pretty big boy though, so when he got teased he pushed back. Eventually things escalated to the point where he was getting bullied and it started getting ugly. I heard that some of the guys in our class were planning to gang up on him one day after lunch, so I had planned to make a stand for him.
I remember going to Steven’s house for lunch the day he was supposed to get lynched and we had lunch with his mother. Steven lived literally a stone’s throw away from Vista at the corner of either Sora Dr. and DeJong Dr. or Sora Dr. and Wareham Dr.
His mother was really worried about his tribulations at school. I felt bad for both of them. I grew up always feeling sorry for the hard luck cases in school, the outsiders, and the ones that didn’t fit in. I guess all those days I spent by myself lying in a bed at Mississauga General brought out my compassionate side.
When we walked back to school a little ganking squad was waiting for him. Someone called out to me not to get involved, but I had already made up my mind I would. I decided to take on Remi Kaiserman and the two of us got into a shoving match. Whatever friendship I had with Kaiserman evaporated that day. He wouldn’t have anything to do with me after that.
As much as I tried to stick up for Steven, it eventually became too much for him and his parents to handle. His parents transferred him to another school. It was sad to see him leave. It all happened because he ate an onion.
I wanted to believe this guy I was now talking to on the phone. I simply didn’t remember Neve having a brother, much less one that got picked on.
Then he told me that wasn’t important and changed the subject. The reason he was calling was that she was in the hospital. Now I was concerned.
“What happened? Did she get into a car accident?”
He said, "No. It's nothing like that. She’s depressed."
Depressed? At this point I knew I was dreaming. People don’t go to the hospital when they’re depressed. They go to the hospital when they have real problems. The person on the phone argued back that depression was real, but I just couldn’t buy that. Here I was home alone. I had dropped out of high school. I was kicked out of the house and living with my sister. I’m sitting by myself drinking beer around the time of my 17th birthday. What the hell, I was depressed. I would never think to go to the hospital.
At this point my memory of the conversation gets a little fuzzy. He mentions something about Neve slipping in and out of consciousness and calling out my name. How does being depressed make you go unconscious? Not only that, but I couldn’t believe that this girl was still thinking about me. I had not seen her or talked to her in almost 7 years.
I made the point, “If she’s been thinking about me all these years, why didn’t she call? I loved that girl. I spent years hoping she would call!”
Then he shot back and asked, “Why if you loved her didn’t you ever call her?”
That really made me upset, because I did try to call her. There were a zillion Campbells in the phone book. I couldn’t find her. There were only 5 listings for my name that year. I said, “You found it pretty easy to get a hold of me!”
As he kept talking I was starting to tune him out. The memories of Neve were coming back. I remembered the ballet ultimatum. I remembered that death stare she gave me when I said I wouldn’t go. I remember begging her not to cut me from her life. I remembered leaving Vista Heights on account of all that. I remembered all I tried to do to get a hold of her. It was all coming back and now someone is trying to talk me into visiting her in the hospital.
Anger and bitterness was rising to the surface, but at the same time, I did love her. I was leaning toward going, but that’s when he dropped a bomb on me.
He said, “By the way, I think I should warn you. She has a boyfriend now. He doesn’t treat her very well and my dad and I don’t care for this guy. We liked it much better when you two were friends.”
I got the sense from him telling me that, that he was trying to pay me a compliment. But I sure as hell didn’t take it as a compliment.
“She has a boyfriend?”
Considering I hadn’t seen Neve in almost seven years and I really hadn’t thought of her much in the previous three, I’m surprised how jealous that made me. I still had deep feelings for her. But I had just finished going through that crap with Andrea and I was in no mood to go through it again. I know he was only asking me to go visit her in the hospital. He was not asking me to sweep her off her feet, but still. I did not feel it was my place to interfere.
At that point in the conversation I had pieced together enough information to vent my thoughts. That’s when I went off on a rant that went something like this:
“So let me get this straight. You’re asking me to sober up, screw my head on straight and go visit some girl in the hospital that cut me out of her life for not taking ballet. I loved that girl. I begged her not to cut me out of her life and she showed me no mercy. I had nobody to console me when she did that, not even a pet goldfish. Yet here’s a girl with a mother that loves her, a father that loves her and a brother that loves her enough to call up some guy she hasn’t even talked to in 7 years. And to top it all off, she has a boyfriend now? What am I supposed to do, rush off to the hospital to console this girl so she can get all better again, so she can cut me out of her life again, so she can go running into the arms of another guy and leave me to pick up the pieces of my life again? Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do here?”
“I do know the history and I am very sorry for the way things turned out. But she really needs you now.”
I felt strongly that the guy on the phone was genuinely sympathetic to my position. I could tell he felt bad for me. But at the same time, he obviously loved his sister and if he thought he could do something to help her get better he would do anything for her.
At that point I said, “I’m sorry, but I think she needs to suffer through this one on her own. She just can’t blow people out of her life and expect them to come running back when she needs them.”
That’s when the guy told me, “I understand. Again, I’m sorry for what happened. I want you to know that I’ll always be grateful for you sticking up for me at school.”
“Again, I don’t remember Neve ever having a brother, much less one that I ever stuck up for at school.”
Then he finished by saying, “Well, it must be a shock for you to get a phone call like this out of the blue after all these years. Would you mind if I called you back in a day or two just to see if you would be willing to change your mind?”
When I thought back to how polite this guy had been during the entire conversation I thought that was completely reasonable. I closed by saying, “Sure. If you want to try back in a day or two, you’re welcome to. But I really don’t think I’ll change my mind.”
He said, “That’s all I can ask for.” We hung up the phone on a pleasant note.
I’m not sure on the exact date, but Friday, February 2, 1990 is my best guess. I was home alone and drinking from a case of Budweiser. I was not drunk, but I was not in the right frame of mind either. That night I had a crazy dream.
I dreamt that a guy called and introduced himself on the phone as Neve’s brother.
“Do you remember Neve?”
Well of course I remembered her, but I said, “I don’t remember Neve ever having a brother.”
He told me that he used to go to school with us back at Vista Heights and that when he got picked on at school I used to stick up for him.
I’ve always prided myself on my ability to remember things and I remembered Neve well. But I didn’t remember her ever having a brother at that school, much less one that I stuck up for when he got picked on.
I did recount the story of Steven Pearson though. Steven was a red haired kid who was in our class. One day his parents had packed an onion with his lunch the way anyone else would get an apple or orange. Steven peeled the skin off that onion like it was an orange and bit into it like it was an apple. He ate that whole onion right in front of everyone and it grossed the guys in our class out.
Naturally Steven got teased for that. Steven was a pretty big boy though, so when he got teased he pushed back. Eventually things escalated to the point where he was getting bullied and it started getting ugly. I heard that some of the guys in our class were planning to gang up on him one day after lunch, so I had planned to make a stand for him.
I remember going to Steven’s house for lunch the day he was supposed to get lynched and we had lunch with his mother. Steven lived literally a stone’s throw away from Vista at the corner of either Sora Dr. and DeJong Dr. or Sora Dr. and Wareham Dr.
His mother was really worried about his tribulations at school. I felt bad for both of them. I grew up always feeling sorry for the hard luck cases in school, the outsiders, and the ones that didn’t fit in. I guess all those days I spent by myself lying in a bed at Mississauga General brought out my compassionate side.
When we walked back to school a little ganking squad was waiting for him. Someone called out to me not to get involved, but I had already made up my mind I would. I decided to take on Remi Kaiserman and the two of us got into a shoving match. Whatever friendship I had with Kaiserman evaporated that day. He wouldn’t have anything to do with me after that.
As much as I tried to stick up for Steven, it eventually became too much for him and his parents to handle. His parents transferred him to another school. It was sad to see him leave. It all happened because he ate an onion.
I wanted to believe this guy I was now talking to on the phone. I simply didn’t remember Neve having a brother, much less one that got picked on.
Then he told me that wasn’t important and changed the subject. The reason he was calling was that she was in the hospital. Now I was concerned.
“What happened? Did she get into a car accident?”
He said, "No. It's nothing like that. She’s depressed."
Depressed? At this point I knew I was dreaming. People don’t go to the hospital when they’re depressed. They go to the hospital when they have real problems. The person on the phone argued back that depression was real, but I just couldn’t buy that. Here I was home alone. I had dropped out of high school. I was kicked out of the house and living with my sister. I’m sitting by myself drinking beer around the time of my 17th birthday. What the hell, I was depressed. I would never think to go to the hospital.
At this point my memory of the conversation gets a little fuzzy. He mentions something about Neve slipping in and out of consciousness and calling out my name. How does being depressed make you go unconscious? Not only that, but I couldn’t believe that this girl was still thinking about me. I had not seen her or talked to her in almost 7 years.
I made the point, “If she’s been thinking about me all these years, why didn’t she call? I loved that girl. I spent years hoping she would call!”
Then he shot back and asked, “Why if you loved her didn’t you ever call her?”
That really made me upset, because I did try to call her. There were a zillion Campbells in the phone book. I couldn’t find her. There were only 5 listings for my name that year. I said, “You found it pretty easy to get a hold of me!”
As he kept talking I was starting to tune him out. The memories of Neve were coming back. I remembered the ballet ultimatum. I remembered that death stare she gave me when I said I wouldn’t go. I remember begging her not to cut me from her life. I remembered leaving Vista Heights on account of all that. I remembered all I tried to do to get a hold of her. It was all coming back and now someone is trying to talk me into visiting her in the hospital.
Anger and bitterness was rising to the surface, but at the same time, I did love her. I was leaning toward going, but that’s when he dropped a bomb on me.
He said, “By the way, I think I should warn you. She has a boyfriend now. He doesn’t treat her very well and my dad and I don’t care for this guy. We liked it much better when you two were friends.”
I got the sense from him telling me that, that he was trying to pay me a compliment. But I sure as hell didn’t take it as a compliment.
“She has a boyfriend?”
Considering I hadn’t seen Neve in almost seven years and I really hadn’t thought of her much in the previous three, I’m surprised how jealous that made me. I still had deep feelings for her. But I had just finished going through that crap with Andrea and I was in no mood to go through it again. I know he was only asking me to go visit her in the hospital. He was not asking me to sweep her off her feet, but still. I did not feel it was my place to interfere.
At that point in the conversation I had pieced together enough information to vent my thoughts. That’s when I went off on a rant that went something like this:
“So let me get this straight. You’re asking me to sober up, screw my head on straight and go visit some girl in the hospital that cut me out of her life for not taking ballet. I loved that girl. I begged her not to cut me out of her life and she showed me no mercy. I had nobody to console me when she did that, not even a pet goldfish. Yet here’s a girl with a mother that loves her, a father that loves her and a brother that loves her enough to call up some guy she hasn’t even talked to in 7 years. And to top it all off, she has a boyfriend now? What am I supposed to do, rush off to the hospital to console this girl so she can get all better again, so she can cut me out of her life again, so she can go running into the arms of another guy and leave me to pick up the pieces of my life again? Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do here?”
“I do know the history and I am very sorry for the way things turned out. But she really needs you now.”
I felt strongly that the guy on the phone was genuinely sympathetic to my position. I could tell he felt bad for me. But at the same time, he obviously loved his sister and if he thought he could do something to help her get better he would do anything for her.
At that point I said, “I’m sorry, but I think she needs to suffer through this one on her own. She just can’t blow people out of her life and expect them to come running back when she needs them.”
That’s when the guy told me, “I understand. Again, I’m sorry for what happened. I want you to know that I’ll always be grateful for you sticking up for me at school.”
“Again, I don’t remember Neve ever having a brother, much less one that I ever stuck up for at school.”
Then he finished by saying, “Well, it must be a shock for you to get a phone call like this out of the blue after all these years. Would you mind if I called you back in a day or two just to see if you would be willing to change your mind?”
When I thought back to how polite this guy had been during the entire conversation I thought that was completely reasonable. I closed by saying, “Sure. If you want to try back in a day or two, you’re welcome to. But I really don’t think I’ll change my mind.”
He said, “That’s all I can ask for.” We hung up the phone on a pleasant note.
