I was in
sixth grade when my mother nearly got me killed. After school, I was followed
home by Tammy Kelly and her posse of dirty blond delinquents almost every day.
My mom worked at the post office right next to where the school bus dropped us
off and she usually didn’t get home until around 4:30, which gave me plenty of
time to regroup after the tough girls chased me home.
My mom
didn’t work Wednesdays though, and this particular Wednesday she happened to be
watching out our front room window while Tammy and her bigger-boned best friend
Charlotte West taunted me all the way to the carport.
“Hey, lard
ass, you gonna go home and lick your plate clean tonight? I bet you lick
everybody’s plate dont’cha?” Tammy yelled. “Yeah, I bet you eat all the scraps
they feed the dog,” Charlotte said laughing. She was a real Carol Burnett.
I naturally
countered this with silence. I wasn’t about to dignify their crude remarks with
an answer. Someone of my superior intellect who was in the highest level
reading group wasn’t about to stoop to their level. Besides, I never came up
with a response until I was alone at night in bed, eyes staring up at the wire
mesh bottom on my sister’s top bunk. “Yeah, well at least I have a home to go
to. At least we get supper. At least I’m not a bastard like you. At least I
have a dog. At least my parents make sure I have a winter coat. That’s right.”
This
particular Wednesday I was glad to see my mother opening the front door as I
was coming down the driveway to safety. She’d come out and tell those girls
off. She’d call the police the next time they bothered me. She’d call their
parents and be sure they got sent to reform school for harassing me. I felt
like the drowning man who’d been tossed a life jacket.
“Hey you
girls,” my mom yelled out to them as she came out the front door. “Which one of
youse wants to fight first?”
Wow, I
thought, she’s actually going to kick their asses.
Tammy and
Charlotte looked at each other and didn’t answer.
“Get over
here,” my mom motioned me over. I walked over, not in a hurry exactly. “This is
the last goddamn time these girls chase you home,” she said under her breath.
“Which one
of youse is going first? Connie here is ready to fight yas right here and now.
Right in the front yard. Come on girls, who’s it gonna be?” my fearless mother
asked.
Tammy and
Charlotte looked at each other, looked at my mother like she was crazy, and
then looked back at each other again.
“Oh, I get
it,” my mom said. “You girls are too scared to fight. You’re all talk. Tell you
what, next time you want to fight you come right on over and Connie here will
fight you right in this front yard. She’ll be glad to and she’ll kick both your
asses one at a time. Now get the hell outta here and I don’t want see you
around here again unless you plan on fightin’.”
Oh my God.
She was serious. I don’t know who I was more afraid of, the two girls or my own
mother.
Apparently
Tammy and Charlotte were scared of her too because they took off down the
street.
“Now get
your ass in the house,” my mom said to me. “That’s how you get rid of a bully.”
Switzerland is a place where people don't like to fight, so they get people to do their fighting for them while they ski and eat chocolate. - Larry David
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