Deity

by Matt Wesolowski

  What Marie has now, which is different from before, is support. As the days since Crystal’s death turn to weeks and months, it seems like the tide against him is finally starting to turn. More and more people who did not grow up with his music, who had no emotional connection to the star, are now seeing a different side of the enigma that was Zach Crystal. With the accusations of the five women starting to gain attention, more and more are starting to feel that they too can share their experiences of Crystal. The support for Zach Crystal still exists, but its power is dwindling. Zach Crystal defenders are starting to look more and more delusional. And as a generation comes of age without Zach Crystal in their lives, they begin to see him for what he is. A man. Nothing more.

  After hearing Marie’s account, I still have many questions that need answering. Some of these answers may never come. Instead they sit, tantalisingly close, hidden by power and adulation, by fame and money.

  Could the ‘therapy’ that Kirsty and, it seems, many other girls received from Zach Crystal have been a sinister way of coercing them figuratively and perhaps literally into the star’s arms? I now think of his work with the vulnerable young people in the care homes and psychiatric units. This was something we all applauded at the time, something I, until not even that long ago, held tight to in the wake of allegations and rumblings about the man.

  This journey still feels like it’s just begun – pulling apart a myth bit by bit to see what lies within. But right now, it’s hard to know where to turn. How can I find the answers I’m looking for?

  I have reached out many, many times to Naomi Crystal via the Crystal estate and received no reply. I doubt I will. Naomi Crystal is a mother. She does not appear in magazines anymore and as far as I know, is trying to live a normal life. After speaking to Marie, I feel a little guilty about my attempts to get in contact with her. I imagine Naomi wants to raise her daughter in peace.

  James Cryer is no longer with us and his family will not speak to me.

  It feels like I’ve hit a dead end.

  But I’ve been doing these series for a while now, and I’ve often found that when it feels like you’re out of options, the way forward presents itself to you. And I think an opportunity has presented itself from within Six Stories itself. I feel like I have one more way of getting some insight, however brief, into Naomi Crystal and what exactly was going on at Crystal Forest.

  Because sometimes, like Zach Crystal often said, ‘you just have to want it hard enough’.

  This has been episode four

  And I have been Scott King.

  Until next time…

  RUBY

  Episode 246: Zach Crystal

  Legendary Presenter Ruby Rendall’s exclusive interview with pop megastar Zach Crystal. More >

  1 hr 45 • 9pm 20th Jul 2019 • Available for 28 days

  RR: There it is everyone.

  [Cheering]

  RR: Wow … I mean, listen to that, listen to that. World exclusive. That’s a world exclusive unseen studio session by my guest, the man himself, the one and only Zach Crystal!

  [Cheering]

  RR: That was ‘From the Start’, which stayed on the cutting-room floor when you wrote your Damage album. Zach; can you tell us a little bit about that song?

  ZC: Of course, of course. A lot of my songs, they come to me when I’m in the forest, when I’m with nature. You see, nature allows me to look inward and outward; my past, my present and my future. ‘From the Start’ is all about where we come from and how it shapes where we’re going.

  RR: I noticed a profound lyric in there: ‘We never wanted anything and now that’s got us everything.’

  ZC: Absolutely. It’s about growing up. My sister and I, we were so young when we began performing, and all we wanted back then was to make people happy; that’s all we wanted. It was never about money – it never was and never will be. But look what that got us. Look where we are.

  RR: You and Naomi, you’re still close?

  ZC: Oh yes, very close. She has her daughter now – Bonnie – and they now live with me, in Crystal Forest, where they have everything. But most importantly, they have love. We have love, as a family.

  RR: Bonnie’s father – he’s not in the picture?

  ZC: Unfortunately not. But that was their choice. That’s their situation. I am just focusing on being an uncle.

  RR: It’s not a famous person, is it? Bonnie’s father?

  ZC: No, he’s someone that Naomi met not long after she’d dated a famous musician.

  RR: That’s Skexxixx, right?

  ZC: That’s right. I think that was hard for her, and she just wanted someone normal. She wanted someone who wasn’t a celebrity. Unfortunately it didn’t work out. But that’s her business. Bonnie’s father is just a normal guy, but he doesn’t want to be involved. He doesn’t want to be a dad. That’s so sad.

  RR: Do the two of you reminisce about the old days, as The Crystal Twins?

  ZC: Oh yes, all the time. We have a lot of old footage, and we’ve been showing Bonnie some of those old concerts. She’s been loving seeing her mum and her uncle as youngsters on the stage.

  RR: Would you want that life for her?

  ZC: I think … I think she should be able to do what she wants. If that’s the life she chooses then we are there to help her, to guide her. Naomi and I, we didn’t have that. I had Naomi to help me but we were just kids, trying to make sense of that world, that industry. It’s a hard place and we can explain that to Bonnie.

  RR: Is having your own children something you’d ever consider?

  ZC: Oh, I don’t know. I’d like to adopt – adopt someone who missed out on having a mother and a father. I’d always liked that idea. But right now, I’m being an uncle. I’m being the best uncle I can be for Bonnie. She’s starting her teenage years and those are hard, believe me.

  RR: You were twenty when you decided to go solo. You’d been in the music industry as a teenager.

  ZC: It was 1994. I’d never really had proper teenage years. It was concerts, rehearsals, practice, interviews. Before I knew it, those years were gone … poof!

  RR: You’ve never really talked about that time in your life. I imagine it must have been a tough decision, right, to go it alone?

  ZC: Um … not so much. I think … I think it was harder explaining it to Naomi. She’d always been the big sister; she’d always been in charge of everything.

  RR: What do you think it was that brought you to that decision?

  ZC: I remember wanting something else. I mean, The Crystal Twins, we were sensational, we were talented and people loved us. But I always wanted to push things a bit more, do things a little differently. Naomi was much more sensible. She wanted to keep things as they were, keep things familiar, and I respect that. She respected what I wanted to do too.

  RR: There are a lot of rumours that the split wasn’t entirely mutual.

  ZC: That’s just the tabloids, just stories people make up to sell papers, to get clicks. We’d been performing since we were little, and I think that Naomi was glad not to have to do that anymore. It also meant that I could look after her, after all she’d done for me when we were little kids. I could help her in her life.

  RR: You certainly have as well. Naomi has moved in to Crystal Forest now and helped take charge of your affairs after the sad passing of James Cryer.

  ZC: That’s right. She’s astounding. She’s a mother and she’s shrewd, she doesn’t miss a thing. She’s the boss up there now [giggles]. Be afraid!

  [Laughter]

  RR: It’s Naomi who’s now spearheading your comeback isn’t it? The tour. When you were … away for a year, did Naomi know where you were?

  ZC: It’s … it’s complicated. It’s all … What’s important now is that we’re back together, that we’re working together. I’m helping Naomi raise her beautiful daughter and we’re a team again. Just like we used to be.

  RR: How does it feel to know that Naomi wanted to sell Crystal Forest when the wo
rld thought you had vanished?

  ZC: I mean, I understand. I would have done the same in her position. She couldn’t live there. It would be too painful.

  RR: It was Naomi who found the body of James Cryer wasn’t it?

  ZC: Yes, that’s right. James was a beautiful soul, a wonderful human being. It was such a terrible accident. They told us he hadn’t suffered. His death was instant. It really affected Naomi, I think. She knew what James meant to me. He meant a lot to her too. You see, James had been a fan of The Crystal Twins. I don’t know if you know that? We’d both known him from the start. He lived on the same estate as us when we were growing up, and that’s why we trusted him.

  RR: James became your right-hand man, didn’t he? Your top aide.

  ZC: That’s right. The day I decided to go solo, James was with me. And stayed with me until he died. That’s testament to how close we were. I trusted James above anyone else. He took care of much of my personal and business dealings. He allowed me the time to write and create. James was a loyal person. I saw him as family, more than an employee. He was loyal to the end.

  RR: Can you talk about what happened to James?

  ZC: Yes. It’s good to talk about these things. He’d been missing that morning, which was strange, as he never took a day off, never, not once. So when he was gone, it was strange. I knew something was wrong. Naomi found him not far from the house, in the forest. He’d fallen, hit his head on a rock. The poor guy. It could have happened to anyone. It was a tragic, tragic accident and there’s not a day that goes by I don’t miss him.

  RR: I’m so sorry for your loss. For both of you. I hope time will be a healer for you.

  ZC: Thank you, Ruby. But that’s the past now – it’s all in the past. What’s important is the future. The tour, the album. That’s what matters right now. There’s no point dwelling in the past.

  RR: Zach, it’s not long until the end of the show. This has … this has been such a pleasure. Such a pleasure. I still can’t believe it’s really you sat there in front of me.

  ZC: I do have a decoy you know. Maybe it’s him!

  [Laughter]

  RR: A decoy, really? Wow… it’s a different world that you live in…

  ZC: I need him. Sometimes when things get too crazy, the fans, as much as I adore them, can get too much. He’s a very talented guy. He’s a fan too. I found him a number of years back. He’s the same age, same height. He even looks like me, and he can do my voice. It’s spooky.

  RR: Zach Crystal, I want to say thank you – thank you so much for spending so much time with us tonight. I’m just feeling so honoured, so blessed. I feel that there are so many questions still to ask, about you, about your life. About the future. It’s gone so quick. You’re a very busy man.

  ZC: That’s right. That’s true. I never stop – never stop working. I have rehearsals for the tour. I have to do everything. It’s relentless.

  RR: We’re going to cut away for a few moments so Zach can be refreshed, and we’re going to watch a promo for the upcoming Forever tour. Then we’ll be back, for the end of our chat with Zach Crystal.

  [Applause]

  Episode 5: You Get to Go Home.

  —I was, you could say, pretty much their guinea pig. I got pushed into line by the orderlies, waited at the hatch for my meds and was sent to go watch TV. Day after day it was the same. You had to stand there and take your pills, open your mouth so they knew you’d swallowed them.

  I was on a mixture of medication. I didn’t know what exactly. Lithium was one, I think. Antidepressants. They kept changing them week by week, different combinations, to see what would happen. If the staff were watching me, monitoring anything, I didn’t know about it. I have little memory of that time. I remember not having much energy. I remember mainly walls and ceilings, staring at the patterns on them for hours, making connections with the cracks and the smudges of the paintwork. I just … retreated into my imagination, man.

  I read a lot of books too. You had two choices there: comic books of bible stories – picture books aimed at really little kids – or the actual bible. I know the Good Book better than most men who call themselves holy. I bet you never expected that.

  If that wasn’t enough for us, they brought in the ‘specialists’. Back then, I actually had hope; I thought they would find out what was wrong with me. That’s what I always believed, you see, that there was something wrong with me. That I was ill.

  Maybe I was? Maybe I still am? There’s plenty who’d agree. I’ve been psychoanalysed by half the world, haven’t I?

  I had two specialists assigned to me. There was a man and a woman. Bill and Betty, they said they were called. The woman, Betty, was very motherly; I remember that. She always wanted me to play with these dolls she had, these knitted things. I always thought it was a bit too little-kid for me, but she told me it was OK, that it was just me and her. Betty always wanted us to do ‘playing’ – I always had to pretend to ‘be’ someone or something for her. I remember she wanted me to pretend to be an animal. I was always a pig. Betty would always ask what I was going to ‘do’ with the doll. I never knew, so usually I pretended to eat it. That made her laugh. It was goofy but I liked it. Then we had to be people. I was always a pirate. She liked that. She asked me my name, let me make up this huge back story. One of my favourite books in school was about Blackbeard. It was old – a hardback with a tattered front cover. No pictures. I loved it. I told Betty that I would put gunpowder in my beard, that everyone was scared of me. I even started growing my hair long, that’s how much I fucking loved creating this character.

  Betty always encouraged me, she always spurred me on to be more bloodthirsty, more horrible, describe how I liked to kill people. Sometimes she would write things in a big notepad. I remember once asking her why, and she told me it was so we wouldn’t forget our stories. Betty once asked me if I had a whip. I said I did. She used to ask me to pretend to hit people with it.

  Bill was different. Bill always wanted to talk about real things. Bill always called me ‘little man’ and ‘young gent’. He wore a suit and always took his tie off before we talked. I never understood why. Bill liked to do all this man-to-man posturing. He always said I was a ‘big guy around here’.

  The contrast between the two was … confusing.

  Bill used to get me to tell him stories about my dad. He meant memories, but he called them stories. I only had one or two. I don’t remember much of him. One of those stories was about a time we found a dead cat near the railway bridge, back in Aigburth. Bill used to get me to tell that story over and over again. He used to say that I remember it because it had ‘emotional impact’. He explained what that meant, and it kind of made sense. I can still see that cat now. Just a moggy, someone’s pet. It must have been hit by a car and hid under the bushes to die. Or else someone put it there. It was night. I remember that. I remember being scared as well. I remember crying. I remember my dad hugging me. I remember his smell. Tobacco and damp. His big, black donkey jacket. I remember how my face felt on those plastic bits that go over the shoulders.

  One day Bill asked me if I was sure that wasn’t the only cat we found. He said it and he raised his eyebrows. I remember because he was bald and his skin crumpled up all the way to the top of his head. I said I was sure and he asked again. Was I sure?

  Bill told me that sometimes our brains make good memories out of bad ones. He said it wasn’t my fault. He said I wasn’t lying. He said that’s just how brains work. I remember insisting: that was my only memory of a cat.

  He kept asking me if I was sure, if I was really sure that was the only dead cat. He just kept saying that over and over again, until I thought maybe there was another cat. I tried to remember walking down Mersey Road with my dad, looking for cats.

  Bill asked why we were looking for cats, and I didn’t know. Bill said that was my brain again, making a nice memory out of a bad one. Then I thought of Betty and Blackbeard and I said we were looking for cats to kill them.


  I remember Bill telling me I was very brave and a ‘super lad’. He gave me a Marathon bar.

  Next week I told him about more cats we found. Cats, dogs, birds. I got another Marathon bar and I got to leave early. A few weeks later I was telling Bill how we chopped them up with a curved dagger. How my dad made me drink their blood and swear my soul over to the devil.

  I was eight years old.

  Welcome to Six Stories.

  I’m Scott King.

  The voice you’ve just heard will be familiar to some of you who’ve joined me before. To others, this American Deep South drawl with its distinctive Merseyside twang may provoke fear or admiration. There’s very little between.

  For those of you who don’t know, we have a returning interviewee on this episode of Six Stories. The first time I spoke to the man who formerly went by the moniker Skexxixx, he was being blamed for the 2014 Macleod Massacre, in which twenty-one-year-old Arla Macleod killed her family with a claw hammer. After pretty much disappearing from the world in 2017, it’s good to see that age hasn’t changed him too much. His hair, still long and black, is tied up in a bun. Tattoos snake over his arms and hands, and a silver ring catches the light of the recording studio where we sit.

  —Music. Computer games. They’re the easiest to blame – the first scapegoats when anything goes wrong, aren’t they? I mean, we had a narcissistic maniac running a country, inciting racial hatred from his Twitter feed, but woe betide some kid who wants to sit in his bedroom playing Fortnite with his buddies and listening to Drill, right? Look back in history and see what hasn’t changed. 2019, AM and Skengdo go to actual prison in the UK for performing a song. Nothing’s really changed has it? No one wants to look at why, fundamentally, people do bad things, not really. No society wants to look in a mirror and see something they don’t like.