Memories of Emily: The Power Brokers Part 2

Spear & Ararat

During Christmas break, Jarid introduced me to a twenty-one-year-old punk rocker named Spear, who Jarid met after obtaining a part-time job at a local quarry. A tall guy with a black mohawk, Spear could have appeared on the album cover of one of the many bands he enjoyed: the Ramones, Black Flag, The Cure, and many other unfamiliar groups. He wore a chain for a belt and carried a long lock-blade knife, both he employed without hesitation against jocks and anyone else perceived as the Man. People did not provoke Spear, fearing him insane, but people judged all punk rockers this way based on hair and clothing. 

Jarid learned the origin of Spear’s nickname from coworkers, which he repeated to me in a narrative of Spear's encounter with a jock at a commonly held field party or, "bonfire" as people called them. Held in the rural areas neighboring Riceberg, bonfires attracted a mixed crowd from different cliques, and on the night in question, a jock started making fun of Spear’s group. Spear lifted and hurled a jagged board from the bonfire kindling, shattering the bottle of Swan Rum in the jock’s hand. The jocks ran, and he became Spear Swan Rum which quickly shortened to Spear. When asked, Spear confirmed the story’s truth. “Yeah, I hit that fucker dead-on and cut his hand, but it got me arrested. I guess I’m lucky since I was aiming for his head.”