Ive been trying to relax and get to sleep all night. Its now 5:30 in the morning, local time and I have given up. My brain is locked in a circle of thought and refuses to be still. Becky. Her name was Becky. And you can take your mind right out of the gutter, because it was never like that at all. We were both far too young for that, anyway. Third Grade, I think it was,.. or maybe fourth. Back up in the hills of Southeast Tennessee, at Waldens Ridge Elementary school. We were both on the low end of the societal food chain, Becky and me. Both of us were quiet, reserved, and kept mostly to ourselves, on the playground. I was short and terribly fat, and she was chubby, with straight blonde hair, that shone like spun gold, in the Springtime sun. When she smiled, which wasnt nearly often enough, it was a warm, sweet, honest thing, that conveyed (at least to me) the knowledge that she understood exactly what was being said to her, and that she agreed, or sympathized, or... whatever was appropriate. She had a nose that was a little larger than everyone elses. And at her tender age, she had already begin to show the physical aspects of womanhood. She had the misfortune of being the first in our class to grow breasts. Well,.. the second. Mine started out way ahead of hers. I did mention I was fat, right? Children being children,.. in other words, cruel, heartless and willing to humiliate anyone to increase their social standing,... she soon became the butt of jokes, playground cruelty and brassiere snapping, ad infinitum. The poor girl retreated further and further into her already thick-walled shell, and began to spend a lot of time crying. A part of me actually felt relief that it was her, instead of me, they were torturing. Every moment I was able to spend with people not looking at me was pure gold, back then. ... not an honorable attitude, to be sure... but I am sure many can relate. But,.. the more it went on, and the worse they treated her, the more a fire started burning inside my heart and my soul. I grew angry. And the more they taunted her, the angrier I got. Finally, one day, during recess, as I sat on the edge of the freshly poured basketball court,.. which was half sized and only had one basket, of course,... I was trying to concentrate on the math problems we had received in class,.. hoping against hope that somehow the shifting numbers would resolve into something readable,.. one of those little bastards got on his hands and knees behind Becky and another bastard pushed her backward. They were laughing too hard to see me charging at them. There were six,.. maybe seven of them, gathered around in a circle, pointing and jeering, when I bowled over the biggest one. I took him just at the knees and he went down like a melted stick of butter and lay struggling to breathe. The shock that everyone registered kept them from reacting for a few seconds. Just enough time for me to take a few more of them down to my level, where I proceeded to pound, blindly, in a rage, at gut and face, occasionally just grabbing flesh and twisting to inflict pain. It didnt take too long for them to recover their senses and defend themselves, throwing punches at me, trying to knock me down and kicking at me. But one of the advantages of being a short, fat kid is that you have a low center of gravity and you can take a lot of hits that others would buckle under. So, I stood there, taking what they could give me, and just.... not going down. But when one would get cloe enough for me to lay hands on, I held on for dear life, using my low center of gravity and the mass of my body to hurl them, here and there, usually sprawling out on the ground. I cant say how long the fight lasted. I know the teachers, who had tried to keep the bastards from tormenting poor little Becky took their time in breaking it up. When it was finally stopped, a lot fo skinny little boys were laying on the ground, clutching stomachs or arms, or their head in pain, and not even trying to stand back up,.. with one short fat kid standing in the middle of them. Mrs Levengood, the third and fourth grade teacher (and the school principle) came over and said Okay, boys,.. get up and go to my office,... NOW! I was shaking from the anger and the thrill of having defeated these... pricks, when she turned and said You too, champ. and tousled my hair. I looked over at Becky, and saw that she was crying. But she was smiling, too. And just as I was about to turn to take the long walk to the gallows, she ran over and gave me one of the biggest, tightest,... just most wonderful hugs I have ever had. And she kissed me on the cheek, turning my face a deep blood red. I was the only one who didnt get paddled. Well,.. I got paddled, sort of,.. but it was just a show paddling. But we all got our parents called. And as we sat there, waiting for them all to show up, the skinny, lanky kids looked at me, sideways,.. not sure how to feel, I think. For the rest of my school career, and over the greatest majority of my life afterwards, I have tried to be a defender of the weak, the downtrodden, the people who cant do a thing for themselves. Now,.. Im not trying to blow my own horn, here. But one of the things that kept me awake tonight was Becky. But the facts of the matter are only a part of the story. The rest goes like this: When I snapped,.. when I charged those ass-hats on that playground,.. it wasnt me who moved my body across the space between. I remember that it was almost as though a hand lifted me from my seated position and threw me at them. People have asked me about my faith in God. Like any normal person, I have had doubts in my life. I questioned my own beliefs, from time to time. And sometimes I still do. But I think anything worth believing can hold up to questioning, from time to time. But, looking back I can tell you this. I didnt beat those boys. Theres simply no way that I could have done it. I honestly believe that I was a tool used by God, that day. And I believe that I still am being used by him, today. And I think.... that maybe me retelling this old story, that I have largely kept to myself, is what God had in mind, when I was not allowed to sleep, tonight. I get the impression that someone out there needs to read this,.. that its going to make a difference in someones life. And I trust God enough to obey.
Posted on: Sun, 01 Dec 2013 12:19:21 +0000