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Lady Hammett
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Re: Kirk Hammett Jr. Series
Just as I thought, Dad tried to come up the side stairwell. I figured he'd already tried the elevator.
He pounded on the door. "KIRK! Get out NOW!"
He only ever really called me Kirk when he was mad. Normally he and the guys in the band called me Junior, with the exception of Uncle James, whose nickname for me was "Popularity Man".
"You promised you would be there!" I shouted at him through the door to the corridor.
"What? I thought today was Tuesday!" he yelled.
"It's WEDNESDAY!" I retorted. Then I ran into my bedroom, slammed the door shut, and couldn't figure out what to do other than cry.
I guess Dad must have given up. A few minutes later I heard lighter, more frantic knocks. Luckily it was Stephanie. I let her in, then locked the door behind her.
"So, where is the witch?" I asked my best friend.
"Well, she slugged me, and grabbed her in a chokehold and she somehow got out and ran away. She's outta there, don't worry."
I flashed her the thumbs up. "Hey look, please spend the night. I know Dad has the keys to my floor somewhere, and when he finds them, I figure hell is gonna break loose."
"Hokey-doke." We somehow fell asleep - her in the guest room and me in my room with the door locked tight.
But as I guessed, Dad would find his way onto the floor and into my room. I felt my body wrenched out of bed. I looked at the clock - it was two in the morning.
I had the type of fan that has lights and a remote control to operate them. I reached over to my dresser, grabbed the remote, and flicked them on.
I looked up at Dad, jumping out of bed. His eyes were bloodshot and he was staggering toward me. I could tell he was blind drunk. I don't think I'd ever seen him that drunk in my life.
"I don't know what the hell you were thinking, or what you thought you were doing, but you've had it. You are going to have to be punished," he slurred.
Then three things happened all at the same time:
His fist raised up in the air, I caught it when it came down, and Stephanie hurled herself at him and tackled him to the floor.
They both landed on top of me, and the wind knocked out of me. What a horrible feeling!
Dad scrambled to his feet. "I just want to know - where is Lani?" His voice cracked on the word Lani.
At this point I had forgotten her name.
"Who the hell is Lani?" I snapped.
"My date!" Dad replied.
"She's a ho!" my lips spat out before I could stop them.
"No she's not, she's my girlfriend!" Dad hollered.
"Yeah? And how many of those have you had, DAD?" I retorted. This time, my voice cracked on "Dad". I was getting sick of this. He was drunk and he needed to get off my floor.
"Where is she?" he insisted.
"She left," Stephanie replied. "Took off running."
I could tell Dad couldn't see straight. I wasn't sure whether he had even managed to fathom what we had just said.
Finally he stumbled over to my couch in my lounge and took a seat.
Steph and I exchanged glances.
"Don't worry about him, let's just go to bed," I groaned.
So we did just that.
When I woke up - can you believe I managed to get to sleep again? - it was seven, time to get ready for school, and Dad was asleep on the couch in the lounge.
I prepared a glass of water for him, put it down on the coffee table next to him, and made breakfast. He still did not wake when Steph and I were done consuming it, so we just went to school - me to Demsey and her to Starlight Middle School.
When I got back home Dad wasn't on the couch anymore. He had downed the glass of water, which sat there empty on the coffee table.
I washed it up, put it away, and began my homework.
*********************************************
That night, I lay there, my arm trailing off the edge of the bed.
Then I heard footsteps. They were much lighter than Steph's, and since Dad was shorter and weighed less than her, I knew it was him.
I remembered a time when, as a little boy, Dad would come in to check on me. If my arm was trailing off the edge of the bed like this, he would move it - I guess so that the circulation wouldn't get cut off or something.
I heard the door squeak, imagining his eyes watching me. I waited for him to move my arm.
But he didn't! I heard the door close shut and his footsteps walk away.
Hmph! My father obviously didn't care if his only son's arm turned black and dropped off before morning! I tried to remind myself that I was too old for this anyway, because I was going on nine, after all. So why did I feel unhappy? Dad sure wasn't bothered. If I died from gangrene of the arm, he would probably just let this new woman, LANI, monopolize my floor! Ugh, ugh, ugh!
Of course I couldn't sleep, so I went up the steps to Dad's third floor. I took a flashlight and a small stuffed bunny (smaller than my fist) with me. It was supposed to be lucky; I had won it at a fair a few years ago.
I didn't like Dad's third floor because there is lots of taxidermy up there. It had EYES that stared at you, and so it gave me the creeps. I never told Dad this in case he scorned me.
When I noticed that he had gotten a new three-headed sheep with huge yellow eyes, I stuffed the small bunny into my mouth to prevent from screaming.
I continued down the hall and gently pushed Dad's door open. Dad was in bed.
I figured hell, I was still only eight, so I could sleep next to him just this once, right? So I got into bed with him.
But suddenly I saw a figure in the doorway. I felt a twisting sensation in my throat and began to scream - but then I accidentally swallowed the bunny!
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10/27/2005, 3:31 pm
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AwayFromMe
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Re: Kirk Hammett Jr. Series
Now you have my attention. Awsome stuff, I'm likin' it  .
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10/27/2005, 4:56 pm
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Lady Hammett
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Re: Kirk Hammett Jr. Series
"Kirk?" the figure hissed.
It was Stephanie. I bolted out of bed and told her everything - including how I had swallowed the bunny!
"Oh, damn! You gotta retch that thing up!" she cried.
I felt sick - after all I had swallowed a bunny - so throwing up didn't sound like a farfetched idea. We trooped over to Dad's bathroom, and I leaned over the toilet, sticking a finger down my throat.
Steph wrapped her beefy arms around my stomach and squeezed hard.
The bunny flew out of my mouth and into the toilet bowl.
"Ewwwwwwwww," we groaned. I flushed the toilet, thinking to myself that the dumb rabbit hadn't been so lucky after all!
Suddenly, I heard Dad's footsteps pounding down the hall. "What's going on in here?" he roared.
To my alarm, the bunny floated back up into the toilet! Great!
"What the hell is going on here? Why is there a rabbit in the toilet?" Dad demanded. His eyes were really bloodshot, but then again, so were Steph's and mine. I checked my watch. Six in the morning! I couldn't believe how much had happened in just three hours. I looked over my shoulder and noticed dawn breaking down the hall.
"I said, why is there a rabbit in the toilet?" Dad raised his voice. He wasn't staggering or slurring his speech, but I could smell vodka in his breath. He was drunk enough, that was for sure.
"Um, it all started when-" I began at the same time as Steph said, "We can explain!"
But neither of us could finish. Dad would think I was crazy if I told him I had stuffed a bunny in my mouth to prevent from screaming because of his taxidermy . . .
"Let's get out of here," Steph whispered, and took off running. I froze, not sure what to do. When I saw her disappear down the stairwell, I tried to make a break for it, but Dad clamped his hand around my skinny arm. I hated being so little!
Stephanie had noticed I wasn't with her, and I could hear her footsteps pounding back up the steps. She pushed the door to Dad's floor open and called, "Kirk?"
"He's not going anywhere!" Dad snapped.
"Just go, Steph," I said softly. "I'll catch you later."
She had no choice. Sadly, she turned and left.
Dad had a death grip on my arm, and I swear it felt like it was going to drop off any second. I could feel the circulation stop.
"Dad, you're hurting me, let go," I whined.
He thrust me to the ground. I stared up at him numbly.
Finally, he groaned, “I don’t know what the hell you are thinking sometimes. But this can’t go on.”
I just shrugged. How was I supposed to respond to that?
"Your ego and attitude are really beginning to concern me," Dad breathed. "You have let fame go to your head. I warned you about that, but you didn’t listen."
“So set me straight!” I snapped. “I mean, what is the big deal about me being a few bucks richer than you?”
“It’s not about the money!” Dad shouted. “Your behavior is out of control, and if it doesn’t get better-”
“You’ll what?” I challenged him. “Where are you going to send me? Whatever you do, the media will get wind of it, and then everybody will blame you for whatever you did!”
Dad's face flushed red. He yelled, "You know what, son? I could've given up!" He paused, perhaps to think about what he was going to say next? “She-she didn’t want to keep you. But I did, and I felt like that was the best decision I ever made. I stood up to her. If I’d known you were going to end up like this . . .”
My heart caught in my throat. I just couldn’t imagine my life without Dad, without all the things we had, without our success. It just didn’t make sense.
“You take all this **** for granted,” he accused, waving his arm to show all the riches that surrounded us. “You don’t appreciate any of it! Because it was always here – well it wasn’t! I had to work to earn all this!”
I felt bad. I hadn’t had to really earn it like he did. I had gotten famous based on his fame. Was that a bad thing?
“Is it such a bad thing that I shoplifted my fame off you?” I shouted.
“It-is-not-about-the-money!” he ranted. “You just don’t GET IT!” He was throwing me against the wall now, his fists pounding against my shoulders and chest. He had a look on his face that I'd never seen before. I'd never seen him this mad! It was like being with a totally different person!
“By the way – you could get arrested in fifty states for all this!” I reminded him. Did I forget to mention that back then I had a real problem with my mouth? Critics were constantly calling me a know-it-all. I guess eight-year-olds were not supposed to know their rights. But I was weird - I knew things that other kids, even some adults, didn't know.
I felt his hand collide with my face, but my mouth was still running nonstop. "That was a felony in the third degree!" I knattered.
"You just don't know when to stop!" he screamed.
"At least I didn't violate the law!" I retorted, and ran for it. But I wasn't fast enough. His fist slammed against my face and I felt my body fly backwards. But I didn't stop against the door like I should have. I burst through the door and tumbled down the stairwell.
The world burst into flames in front of my eyes, or so it seemed. Then I noticed Dad descending the stairwell. I screamed at him to get away from me.
His eyes were glazed over, and I wondered if he was high as well. "If only you had given your mouth a rest," he said softly.
"Speaking of arrest, I hope you get AR-REST-ED!" I shouted up at him. I was on a roll and I was not going to stop.
But pain shot through my leg when I tried to get up. I ignored it in desperation and shoved the door to the outside open. I thrust myself into the golf cart that we use to take out the trash and groped in my pocket, hoping desperately that the keys were there.
They were! I pushed them into the ignition, fired up the golf cart, and slammed on the accelerator just as Dad burst out the door!
I flew down the driveway, swerved left onto Divisadero, and struggled not to lose control. But I did. I blacked out, my body slumping the ground as the golf cart rammed into a row of hedges.
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10/27/2005, 5:58 pm
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Lady Hammett
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Re: Kirk Hammett Jr. Series
When I woke up I was lying on Dad’s couch downstairs. I could hear Dad talking to someone, and I strained my ears.
“No, Lani – I really need to take care of my son. He’s hurt. He, um, had an accident and his ankle is all swollen – yes, I know I told you he’s normally an independent kid, but he really needs some care right now. Okay?”
I could hear Lani’s cold reply come right through the receiver, “Have your cleaner watch him and meet me tonight at nine!”
Then she must have hung up, ‘cos Dad put the phone down with a sigh.
I felt a lone tear roll down my cheek. Who was this horrible woman and how did Dad hook up with her?
Dad came over, looking surprised that I was awake. “The prince has finally woken,” he said softly.
I smiled at the nickname, then tried to get up – and winced in pain.
“So how does it feel?” Dad asked, a look of concern on his face.
“Better. So much better, I forgot it hurt!”
We laughed. We hadn’t laughed together in a long time, and it felt good, like getting into a Jacuzzi on a cold day.
Dad sighed. “You and I, we need some time together,” he said. “I’m calling Lani to cancel our date.”
Yes! I thought to myself. For once, I was winning.
Dad picked up the phone and dialed Lani’s number.
“Yeah?” I heard her cold voice answer the phone.
“Lani, I can’t make it tonight. My son and I are going to spend the weekend at my ranch.”
“WHAT-” Lani began, but was hung up on.
I wanted to get up and sing and dance. Not only had he stood up to Lani, but we were going to his new ranch, just the two of us!
It was now Friday – can you believe I had slept that long? Dad loaded up the SUV and then carried me to the passenger seat.
We drove away from the craziness of San Francisco with the music cranked up. We headed north, through the golden hills, away from the madness behind us. We sang along loudly to the music, since it was louder than us.
They say that fresh air is what people need when they’re sick or injured. Well, it certainly worked for me. By the end of the day my ankle no longer hurt. We had a long talk that night in the cabin, me sitting on his lap. I talked about school, the two bands I was in, and my modeling and acting. Dad talked about some side projects he was doing, and the idea that he and his friend had about opening up a film production company. He said he wanted to produce some new movies and that I would get a role in them.
We watched TV and then I fell asleep in his lap.
The next day I could walk again, slowly. Dad took that time to show me around this awesome ranch. He showed me the landscape. I, in turn, went around naming all the various plants, giving both the Latin and English name. We learned things like this in A1 science, but I also loved to read and sharpen my knowledge. Like I said, I liked to know things that other people didn't!
All of a sudden Dad stopped. He looked like he was going to cry.
"What's the matter, Dad?" I chirped. How could he be sad on this beautiful ranch? I just wanted to forget about what had happened that night.
But it had to be talked about.
He stooped down so we were face to face and put his arm around my shoulder. "What I did the other night," he said softly, "was wrong. I could have lost you, or-" he paused for a second - "I could have damaged your brain. Your mind is amazing. You're so smart. I will never, ever do that to you again."
He didn't have to tell me. I could see the sincerity in his eyes.
"Dad, it was my fault," I insisted. "I didn't listen to you at all. All I did was talk back and disrespect you. I deserved it."
"NO," he protested, "Nobody deserves that. Especially not a child."
I could tell by the expression on his face that there was something deeper. Had he been a victim? I didn't know much about his parents. We had lived in our own little world, conducting our own little life.
"Listen," he continued, "I want you to know that you are special. You're the most important thing in the world to me."
I threw my arms around his neck. Hopefully everything would start over. We could be what everybody already thought we were - the perfect father and son, with the perfect relationship, and the perfect careers. Fans already thought we were like this. It was time to stop living a lie, and to live the way it looked, right?
But I didn't want to face reality. So at that moment in time, I didn't. As the weekend went on, Dad and I seemed to become closer and closer. That evening, we got in the canoe and I lay on his lap as we quietly absorbed the nature around us. It made me feel real, alive. I wanted to freeze time right there. Although what he had done to me was wrong, I felt like it was what had brought us together. If it hadn't had happened, we wouldn't be here, would we? So it was worth a few bruises to get quality time with him.
As I hugged him, I felt like it just wasn't close enough. I wanted to melt into his chest and disappear, to become the trademark mole on his cheek, or a blood vessel in his arm, or a vein in his eye. Then I could stay there and be a part of him forever and ever, and we would never drift apart again.
Of course when Sunday arrived I was anxious. I didn't want the day to end. When I realized it was indeed ending, my heart sank into the ground. We were going back to the house, back into our rhythm of life, and we would forget about each other again.
The worst was yet to come, which I didn't have a clue about. When we got home, I hoped Lani would just forget about us and go away.
But she didn't. When we unloaded everything, she showed up on his doorstep, kissed him, and told him how much she missed him.
"I'LL BET YOU ONLY MISSED HIS MONEY!" I shrieked at the top of my lungs.
"Kirk Jr.! Get upstairs NOW!" Dad shouted.
And that was how fragile our relationship was, how easy it was to break and crumble.
"Here we go again," I moaned as I entered the elevator and hit the button for the second floor.
Last edited by Lady Hammett, 10/27/2005, 6:24 pm
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10/27/2005, 6:23 pm
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AwayFromMe
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Re: Kirk Hammett Jr. Series
Omg, that was so sad...Junior is being totally disrespectful by talking back to his dad. I'm asian and in the asian culture, it's ok for parents to hit their kids and stuff if the kid talks back or is bad so that part didn't really surprise me much. It's the fact that Junior was being disrespectful and talking back to his dad and yelling at him...That's so far removed from how I grew up. I was taught not to do that and it makes me angry when kids yell at their parents. Junior needs to keep his big mouth shut and understand his dad has somewhat of a life too...And just when they had it all sorted out, he had to do that again. Come on buddy, keep the peace.
You're so great at this and I can relate to this story so karma for that!
Last edited by AwayFromMe, 10/27/2005, 6:43 pm
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10/27/2005, 6:31 pm
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Lady Hammett
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Re: Kirk Hammett Jr. Series
quote:
AwayFromMe wrote:
Omg, that was so sad...Junior is being totally disrespectful by talking back to his dad. I'm asian and in the asian culture, it's ok for parents to hit their kids and stuff if the kid talks back or is bad so that part didn't really surprise me much. It's the fact that Junior was being disrespectful and talking back to his dad and yelling at him...That's so far removed from how I grew up. I was taught not to do that and it makes me angry when kids yell at their parents. Junior needs to keep his big mouth shut and understand his dad has somewhat of a life too...And just when they had it all sorted out, he had to do that again. Come on buddy, keep the peace.
You're so great at this and I can relate to this story so karma for that!
What country are you from?
I have known a lot of Asians and they are authoritarian in parenting style. I think Kirk's father was white (Irish) though.
In American culture, for the longest time it was okay for people to hit their kids. But to injure a helpless child is now deemed wrong and Kirk Jr. was right about his father violating the law.
He is a rich boy, with high intellect, and thought he could do whatever he wanted partly due to the slack parenting he received . . . it is a double-edged sword in this situation and they were both wrong (from an American view, very interesting to have a different view) . . .
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10/28/2005, 6:07 am
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But damn. Our beloved Kirk ain't a good image for his son. And appears to have too much of his own father's gene's.
