This Was My Moment

Day One

“Leave him alone,” he softly asserted with a calm, confident directive, and disarming frown. He pulled the tennis shoe from the bully’s hand and returned it to the open locker, in this case my locker. Without a word, he turned and walked away. Dan, an unassuming member of the church I attended, was just,… there, in the locker room. Class period over, everyone getting dressed, headed to the exit for the day.

Being new to Tucson, attending the Palo Verde Church of Christ and Rincon High School together, I knew Dan but had never actually heard him speak, and as I recall, not sure I ever did. He hung out with the cool teens, the upperclassman, the popular girls adored him, a member of the in-crowd, the group the rest of us hoped that someday to be granted membership.

I watched as they both returned to their respective lockers, the one somewhat humbled as his buddies watched him retreat, the other without saying a word, oozing confidence. Everyone finished dressing and headed out of the locker room.

End of story? Not so much.

It’s important to understand, I had a talent, capable of drawing the attention of any bully within a two-mile range looking for their next victim.

Now sitting at my desk sorting through pictures from decades ago, I noted what I already knew, or always felt I knew true or not…… was true. Class pictures find me in the front row with the girls seemly taller. Okay, all were taller than me. I complained, not that anyone actually listened, that they, the clan, genetically, robbed me of the family height; and this added to a standing joke or fabricated story about adoption. Not true? The male relatives reached on average about 6 feet tall or taller. I got stuck at 5’10”, which was a bit of an exaggeration.

Anyway.

He and I, the jerk, may I call him a jerk, assigned to the same PE class, would cross paths on the PE athletic field many times over the next two years.

However.

The story is not about him, although there are some good ones; this story is about me. I will just note for the record he remained a bully, but I was much more athletic, which (snicker) leveled the playing field. Which at the end of two years of PE classes together would conclude with a brilliant ending to a continuing rivalry. A story for another day.

Nonetheless…

Day One Hundred Eighty

The story is about a different bully. On the corner of 18th Street and South Niven Ave, lived two brothers. The one brother, we have already met, and the younger brother. Since I lived a few houses away, to the east on 18th Street, I walked home with care, avoiding the younger brother — well, actually avoiding both. Occasionally chatting with the older brother, I learned, or rather informed, the younger had a bit of a reputation, and here I lived only a stone’s throw away from the neighborhood bully. The younger brother really had a knack for getting into fights.

Fast forward.

The school year was ending this fine May day, and here I was standing, with a large group of students at the entrance to the building eagerly waiting for the bell to chime. I quietly contemplated the day and my first period class. Startled by the commotion ensuing directly to my left, I, without thinking, jumped to action! Meanwhile, the phrase, “What am I thinking?” flashed through my mind. I rotated, grabbed someone by the jacket sleeve, yanked him toward me and, standing nose-to-nose, asserted calmly and confidently said those famous words, “Cut it out!” Every one froze, momentarily. Silence reigned.

Quickly, the surrounding crowd drew back, crushing into the students behind them, squishing one into another, seeking a safe distance while clearing a space for a potential FIGHT; taking a deep breath, and waited, anticipating action.

The victim now escaped without even expressing his appreciation. I, on the other hand, stood, still nose-to-nose with, I know not who, until I realized, it was the neighborhood bully. The one with the reputation. The one who was always looking for a fight.

“Leave him alone”, I softly asserted with an authoritative tone oozing confidence.

Both equally surprised, staring at each other, waiting for one of us to make the next move, I simply let go, turned away and resumed contemplating the day, because this interruption did not impact my perfectly pleasant morning, so far. He stared. I remained quiet until the Chimes sent us all on our way. He turned and walked, humbled as students formed a pathway astonished I had not gotten the snot knocked out of me, some likely disappointed, some impressed, the bully no longer in charge, reputation rumpled.

This was my moment, my victory. Today I was the hero.

Thanks Dan.