My Name Is Archie

He was a happy kid who became an oscillating teen contingent on the day. He and his mother lived without a father, but this never bothered him. His mother had given him the best she could, which wasn't much by comparison. Archie spent a couple of hours with his father whenever the man felt like being more than a sperm donor. Archie wasn't impressed and neither cherished nor rebelled against these occasional visits. He grew to be tall, slim, blondish with a goofy grin that he spent his boyhood trying to hide. His school photos suffered as his sullen look appeared as though he were waiting for the world to fall apart.

His grandparents loved him beyond reason, and along with his mother, provided all the love required. His mother worked at the library, and his father sent a check occasionally. She had been nineteen when he was born, so college was never in the cards, but she was brilliant. He felt sure she read about a hundred books a year, everything from physics to romance novels, and had a robust curiosity she passed onto her son.

She rarely dated and never pondered the idea of making any man his stepfather, and for this, Archie was grateful. He had friends who had assholes for stepdads, and Archie liked the little eight-hundred square foot house and the life they had created.

He was not athletic but joined the track team because the girls were cute, especially one.

He wasn't fast, but he was a mediocre pole-jumper. He carried a Gumby-like quality of flexibility that served him well with the bending, springing, and floating required. He wasn't great; he wasn't lousy, placing second or third when they went up against a not-so-great school. When track season began, his mother and grandparents looked forward to this as a child does Christmas, rooting and cheering him on as if he were an Olympian.

Life was good except for one part, beyond his smile, that he despised―his name. He hated it because everyone saw him in terms of that stupid cartoon, The Archie Show. It was an old cartoon, but every kid he'd ever known seemed to have watched it. He especially hated it when he became a teen, and those moments would pop up when "Archie" was called by a teacher or his mother. Would he ever be taken seriously with the name of a cartoon character? Why hadn't his mother named him something normal like Mike or John? Even Jason, a worn-out name by the end of the eighties, would have been better.

He asked his mother about it when he was about eight or nine. She said his father had named him, and she had no choice in the matter. He believed her, for she had never given him any reason to think not to. Until that summer evening, he crawled down the hall to retrieve his game boy. He was supposed to be sleeping, but you know, he was twelve and growing too fast, both physically and mentally. Sleep felt like a waste of time. He snatched the game boy and started back down the hallway.

His mother and her friend, with the pretty name, Michelle, were sitting on the front porch, smoking cigarettes and talking. With the clarity of an adult, he identified his mother's most disgusting fault with shame. He often told her how stupid she was for smoking. She admitted that it was a nasty habit saying that it beat being an alcoholic and that he was never to pick up a cigarette. He didn't.

He began to creep back to his room when he overheard Michelle ask his mom about his middle name. He knew his middle name was as awful as his first, yet the question caused him to pause. He then heard his mother tell Michelle the truth of his naming. "Remember I was nineteen, angry, and had just given birth." As if preparing Michelle for some insight into her life that would not be complimentary.

"Well, Craig, Archie's dad, was strutting around the house and work, telling anyone who would listen how he was having a boy, and his son would not be a weenie kid. He was going to give him a man's name. Jake was what he planned. He said Jake sounded tough, and his son was going to be tough."

"I couldn't stand his strut, his voice, or his abuse. As soon as Archie was born, I planned on leaving, but he sensed me pulling away. He began setting limits on where I could go and who I could see. Craig even sat in my old bedroom during my baby shower like he was keeping an eye on me. Then he began raving about how awful my parents were, and I couldn't take it. So, with my parents, we put together a plan. I started taking a few of my things to their house each day. Items Craig wouldn't miss, like my non-pregnant clothes, and the crib, telling Craig that my dad wanted to put it together."

"When my water broke, my mom took me to the hospital, and after Archie was born, I lied and told Craig I wasn't coming home for two days. The truth was I was being released the day after he was born. I needed to fill out the birth certificate. I knew if I gave Archie a sissy name, as Craig called it, he'd be furious. My thought was maybe, he'd leave us alone. So, I named him Archie Bitterroot Williams."

"That's Archie's full name?" Michelle squealed with shock and laughter.

"Yep, I gave him my maiden name for the last name instead of Craig's and Bitterroot I saw in a book somewhere. I told Craig it was a Native American name and that I thought it was beautiful, knowing this would stoke his bigotry. His reaction was as expected, and looking back, I should never have done that to Archie. He paid the price for me to get Craig out of our lives. When Craig discovered us at my parent's, which wasn't but about two minutes, I told him the name I had given to what he felt was his child. He wouldn't dare hurt me near my dad. He blew up, leaving little pieces of Craig all over my parent's yard."

"His rage had to go somewhere, so he went to our house and burned everything I had left behind. Some items were the gifts I received at the baby shower, and this was enough to get a restraining order. I quit my job and locked myself and Archie in my parent's house for two years while Craig tried everything he could to destroy me. He barely acknowledged Archie's existence yet tried to get custody of him. Can you imagine? He couldn't take care of himself, much less Archie. It was a terrible time until Craig met Marlene and took off to San Diego. After that, he nearly left us alone. He returned a few years ago and has been here twice to take Archie out for lunch, but he never calls in advance. He just shows up like we've been waiting every day for the great god of manliness to show."

Archie didn't wait for Michelle's response; returning to his room, he slipped the game boy under his pillow and meditated on this revelation. It took days for Archie to decide if he would be angry with his mother or not. Being Archie, he decided that his mother had paid a high price for his birth, and he didn't need to add to her struggles. Although, if he were honest, he was pissed. How could a mother make their own child's life more difficult?

When he turned fifteen, his birth certificate was handed to him, where he saw his name spelled out entirely for the first time. His mother leaned against the kitchen counter and explained that she was young, furious, and had been deceived by his father. She now understands that her anger went too far, and had she not been mad, his name was to be Ryan James Williams. The James, a tribute to her father. She was very sorry about what she had done, but now that everyone had gotten used to it, she felt Archie was a cool name.

He looked at the birth certificate for a few moments, shook his head, and went to his room. The clerk commented on his name while getting his driver's permit, saying it was creative. He stared at his size twelve shoes and felt, once again, the world was laughing at him.

Archie continued as the good boy he had always been. He did what other teens did, trained for track, studied hard at times, and at other times didn't give a shit. Sometimes he withdrew into his head, not knowing what he cared about. He had always doodled, passing time drawing on his book covers, in his notebooks, thousands of characters pulled directly from his mind to paper with little effort. He selected art as an elective, where he blossomed under Mr. Vansant's mentoring. When he didn't have track practice, he went to Mr. Vansant's room, where he discovered a new form of art using the computer and his imagination. Mr. Vansant praised his creativity and natural skill, pushing Archie to take his junior year's SATs. Mr. Vansant walked him through registration, telling him he wouldn't be eligible for college without the tests.

His mother climbed on board as Archie talked about going to college. He saw the joy in her face as he explained his plans. His grandparents became so excited, they promised him a used car at graduation. "Nothing crazy, Archie, something less than five years old, practical, and well cared for."

He couldn't comprehend the freedom of owning a car. He'd been thinking of a nearby college like Cal Polly or UC Irvine as his mind stretched to the fantastical. He dreamt of a job at Disney or Pixar, and then his dreams dissolved into a fog.

The summer before his senior year, his mother was diagnosed with cancer, and before graduation, she suffered, died, and was buried. His grandparents held onto him, hoping that Archie could live with them until college. He had been accepted to all of the schools he applied to, which were only three, as even submitting applications cost money.

His dreams were ripped away, as were his roots when his father learned that Archie would be receiving Social Security. With little concern for Archie or his grandparents, he took Archie to mingle with three million others in San Diego, finishing his senior year away from all he knew or cared about.

Archie's grades fell with the chaos of his mother's illness and relocation to San Diego. His father had a one-bedroom dump near the docks where a one-bedroom condo could be had for a million. His father worked on the hulls of boats. He sanded, painted, and considered himself a skilled genius bragging about his work as if he were Michelangelo.

Once Archie made his way to San Diego, Archie's father handed down the rules giving him twenty dollars a month for food and whatever he needed. He didn't need much, but with only beer and leftover takeout in the fridge, Archie was left to buy his food with a lousy twenty.

A help-wanted sign in a rundown Asian market gave him his first job. Beyond stocking shelves and produce, he took it on himself to sweep and straighten whenever he could. He liked his job as it kept him away from his father and his father's friends, and he could snatch a bit of food while working. He never took much, a cup of soup here or a torn package of Ramen when the ideal moment presented itself. He liked the owner Mr. Lin and his wife. Mr. Lin always said, "Good job Archie, looks good." They were good people, not very clean, and Archie recognized that they would have more customers if the place were cleaner.

Once a week, he called his grandparents. His heart ached for them understanding how they missed him and his mother. Archie needed to plan a future, knowing that he didn't want to be like his father in any way. He'd never had a girlfriend, and living here, he didn't even have his guy friends or the friends from the track team. He was alone in a world that could not see him.

He didn't need much to graduate, just three classes in his final semester, giving him time to be in the apartment when his father was at work and to work in the evenings when his father was home. He began to hate the man who took Archie's check to buy marijuana and beer.

True to their word, he was given a used Honda just before graduation. His grandpa, offering the details on the proper care and responsibility that came with owning a car. If he parked behind his father, his father would take Archie's new but used car. This made him angrier than he could ever remember. That car was the only decent thing he owned, and his father would ruin it just as he did everything. He began parking away from the apartment.

Knowing he was soon to turn eighteen, he called his grandparents and asked if they could please contact his attorney and ask if he was free to move back with them after finishing school? They agreed to help in any way they could. The process began and took the remainder of the school year to straighten out. Archie now would receive his own Social Security check. His attorney explained that the benefits would end when he turned eighteen unless he was a student. The attorney then informed him that his mother had a 401K. Archie didn't even know what a 401K was. His mother had designated him as a beneficiary upon her death, but she stipulated that he could not acquire the money until the age of twenty-one. For now, his grandparents had this money in an account for him. They were authorized to use it for his care if needed before he turned twenty-one. The attorney said it wasn't a lot, but it would get him through college if he lived with his grandparents and stuck with state schools.

After learning this, he sat in his Honda and screamed out joy. He didn't understand any of this legal stuff; he was just glad to hear his father knew nothing about the 401K money. He started looking at community colleges and found two near his grandparents, close enough and cheap for his first two years. He had his SAT scores. His grades this last year had been lousy. Upon hearing this news, his grandfather assured Archie that he could get back his high standing by doing well in his community college classes.

Archie's plan was to pack up his car on a night when his father was so drunk or stoned, he'd not know a thing until well into half of a Sunday. He gave a respectable notice at the Asian market, and Mr. Lin gave him a graduation gift of one hundred dollars. Archie made sure the market shined on his last day.

He couldn't wait to get out of his father's. He sat on the sofa watching his father with his friend, Ace, drink and play video games well past two A.M. Archie's legs were quivering, feeling jumpy like he was on some kind of drug. Honestly, he thought this was his body's response to the great relief, knowing he would soon be in his grandparent's kitchen. He could feel the warmth as soon as his foot hit the gas. He felt it more deeply as he connected to highway 101, his heart racing as he left the past year of loneliness and isolation behind.

He understood that this love for his grandparents was rare for an eighteen-year-old, but there was more. He would have his town back and friends, but he would never have his mother back. Nor would his grandparents. Together they shared the emotional bond of time invested in loving a woman who died too young.

At times his grief was overwhelming, plunging him into a state of self-destruction, worrying his grandparents. His grandmother often reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze, her face telling him that she understood his pain. His grandparents carefully, quietly, lovingly directed him through loss, sadness, and anger. His grandfather was more of a talker, beginning each sentence with the word, "Son." Gramps liked to fly fish, taking Archie on long rides in the Sierras using nature as both metaphor and healer. Both the talks and the fishing served Archie well. Near the end of his second year, he began to see a path. His grandpa reminded him that he needed to create a life, not just live one. After watching his father waste his, Archie understood this telling himself, "I can do better."

After two years at community college, he applied and was accepted to the nearest college offering an animation major. One hour away and with traffic sometimes two. UCLA brought life to an entirely new level. Some of his friends didn't know what they wanted to do, but Archie had known for years.

He rented a bed in a closet for four nights a week, going home for three. During Christmas break, he hung Christmas lights for extra cash. On the long drives back to campus, he pondered his future and thought about all of those beautiful girls on campus that he rarely spoke to.

He and his friends took trips to Disneyland, where he observed the smiles and the excitement as people fell into the land of endless fun and bright colors. The ideas for his characters and illustrations poured forth like the Santa-ana winds flooding his mind until he thought he'd explode if he didn't put them down. His characters could be villains or heroes, and honestly, as he explained to his grandma, "I don't know where they come from; they just show up. I see them in my mind, and as I build them on the computer, they improve beyond what I had imagined." His grades were perfect, his work excellent, and his imagination was on fire.

On one of their trips to Disneyland, a new guy came along who called himself CJ. As Archie introduced himself, CJ commented on Archie's name, "Hey, dude, that's a cool name for an animator. Like you were born to do that."

Archie began signing his work with a wicked Archie, creating a commanding signature with a giant "A." He had never thought of this before, but the guy was right; Archie was a cool name. He observed the best artist in all forms and saw how their work was their brand, but each had their own style in their person, cornrows, multiple ponytails, blue hair, wild clothes, striped hair, tattoos speaking to their passion for creativity.

He hit the thrift stores creating the Archie look. He sought the clothes of a nerd and blossomed into coolness just by being who he knew himself to be. People began to take note, knowing who he was by his look and work. Quiet yet recognizable, his work brought accolades. Archie became Archie. He loved telling others, especially girls, his full name. Some didn't believe him. He would pull out the birth certificate. Seeing his mother's signature, he liked to think that she had always known precisely what she was doing.