It sounds like an LBGTIQ reboot on an old Billy Crystal movie, right? No, my story isn’t like that. It doesn’t go the gay way, either.
Before I was Michael, I was Harry. It was a different life as a Harry. I had a Harry T-shirt, Harry monogrammed pillowcases (I had a sew-happy Aunt) and all of my belongings had Harry written on them. If I went on a school excursion, Harry was written on the consent form. I was a Harry through and through.
And then I turned into Michael by accident. I didn’t dream of changing my name. There was no forward planning. Harry departed this world at 09.39am, January 19th, 1980 and was never seen or heard again.
A chance event caused a fracture in the space/time continuum. These names were challenged by an outside force, and I did nothing to cause it.
My birth certificate shows “Michael Harry Forman.”
Father wanted Harry, but mother said it was an old-fashioned name. They negotiated. She got Michael to lead the birth certificate, and he got Harry for daily use. Michael wasn’t a name I ever heard at home.
And then I switched schools. A new teacher who’d never known me or the history of my name called it out as it was written on the roll: Michael Forman.
A bizarre set of micro-moments soon followed.
I didn’t respond to his call. As I said, I’d never heard Michael before. My name was Harry. It was a friend who answered for me: “His name is Harry, Sir.” The teacher walked up to me, studied the name on his roll and asked me directly: “Well, is it Harry or Michael?”
Maybe I was tired of being Harry and wanted to try on Michael for a while. Whatever the reason, I responded with, “It’s actually Michael, Sir.”
My answer was faithful and true. From that day forward, I was known as Michael. I’d become someone else forever. I didn’t tell my parents about it at the time. They didn’t find out until I brought someone home from school. My girlfriend spoke of Michael to my mother, and she tilted her head to one side as she listened. She turned to me and said, “She keeps saying, Michael. What’s that about?”
Dad didn’t seem to mind, but he said little anyway. It’s hard to know whether he approved or not. I probably slapped him in the face by abandoning Harry, as I was supposed to be the fifth Harry in the family. I’d left a line of tradition behind without his permission. He died a while ago, and I never knew how he felt.
I didn’t have children, so Harry ends with me. Actually, Harry ended up in a high school classroom back in January of 1980.
When I think about it today, I can’t imagine how I’d write this into fiction. My story sounds lame. There are better reasons to become someone else. I’d love to tell you a wild story about a witness protection programme, some kind of custody dispute, or a hidden treasure, but alas, the story isn’t that exotic or exciting. I accidentally opted out of being Harry. That’s all.
I recently considered returning to Harry for my writing projects. I was so close to going back to that name that my initial book cover’s artwork showed Harry Forman on the front. The reasons for an author to write under a pen name are obvious, but it wasn’t like I had to protect anyone. I wasn’t married and had no children. I could write openly and use my own name.
That’s it.
Harry vanished in 1980. He has remained hidden to this day.
–Michael (Dark fiction. Author of SEETHINGS (the first book), free for a limited time)
Discover more from Michael Forman – Author of Dark Fiction & Drama
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