Bullied (16 page)

Even though that morning pain associated with fear is still there, there is something very different about my attitude now because I have had enough. I have been thinking about it for eight years and I am going to change the way the world treats me, even if I have to leave it. As far as the professional image of my small hometown, I think one of the reasons it is a brutal place is because of the local culture of rank, prestige, pecking order and authority. I do not want to live here anymore but since I have no choice, I will just change the way this community treats me.

Giving Jerry those two black eyes bringing him down to his knees with one punch changed the way I look at bullies and cruel violence forever. The Triangle fight, even though I lost, gave some of the bullies who witnessed it a new respect for me. I am finding that if someone punches me in the hallway, I will punch him back, no matter what. The common occurrence of walking down the hallway and having some big kid hit me intentionally with his shoulder is also one of the events I know how to deal with. If I see them coming I lower my shoulder as low as possible and put all my weight behind it so it hurts them as much as it hurts me. I know I can handle the pain, but can they.

Since I am intentionally gaining weight, the shoulder collision surprises many of the big boys. I am learning to deal with the pain of violence because it happens to me so often. What I know is that the big kids are not as accustomed to feeling pain as I am. After I have a good shoulder collision with one of them, he resorts to just punching me on the arm. A punch in the arm from a passerby does not hurt much and, if I choose to, I can simply ignore it, especially if I have time to flex the muscle in my arm before the strike. The biggest change deep within me is that growing anger and rage about being treated this way by the bullies, school, and local culture, along with the determination to “set things right,” as my mother likes to say. I do not know where this is leading but I know I will reach the end of it, sometime soon.

With the aid of Mom, I am taking trips to Apalachin, a few miles from home, to hunt rabbits with Uncle Ernie. As much as I dislike Elaine and Ernie because of their loudness and bullying attitude, the idea of hunting with guns really appeals to me. When Ernie showed me his bolt-action rifle that he uses for deer hunting I knew immediately where he got it, even though the piece of wood that runs under the barrel was now shorter so it looks more like a hunting rifle. I am sure this was my father's 1903 Springfield rifle. I always wondered where that gun went and should have known that Ernie had it. Even though I dislike Ernie, I have an important secondary purpose for learning how to use firearms.

Ernie also had a shotgun that he used when hunting quail or rabbits. As we walked through the field into a forest, a cottontail rabbit suddenly appeared and began running away from us rapidly. Ernie said, “Watch this. Rabbits all have the same behavior. They run directly away from the hunter at top speed and then turn and make a wide arc to the left or right, then run rapidly back in the opposite direction. You can get a hint which direction they are going to turn when at the end of their straightaway when they turn in one direction or the other.” What Ernie taught me was that you simply walk about 50 to 100 feet to the right or left depending on which way they turned and wait for him to come back. Ernie walked to the right a ways and shot the cottontail as it ran through the forest.

About a week later, I came back for another hunt on Saturday morning. This time, Ernie let me carry the shotgun. After we saw a rabbit run straightaway from us and it turned to the right, Ernie told me to walk to the right and stop to wait for the rabbit. The rabbit came running through the forest and I tried to shoot it but missed. Ernie seemed disappointed but said, “You just need a little practice and you'll be fine. Shooting a moving target takes practice.” When I thought about this later, I realized that I learned that rabbits are predictable in their behavior, as are the bullies I deal with often. I would really rather shoot one of the bullies than a rabbit, I thought.

That evening, I went home and told my Mom I needed to buy a shotgun so I could go hunting with Ernie. She said I could use some of my savings from my paper route. A few days later, after looking in many stores, I found an old 16-gauge Springfield double-barreled shotgun that was perfect. With Mom present, I bought it for $29 and we picked it up. Now, I was a hunter, too, and looked forward to hunting those rabbits, and maybe other things. When hunting season came around again I got a hunting license and regularly went to Apalachin on the weekend.

The stock and the other wooden parts on the old shotgun were all marked up and scarred, so with my grandfather's help, I took the gun apart and sanded all of the wooden parts until the marks and scars were gone. Then I applied a finish that gave the stock and wooden grip under the barrels a nice shine. I love my new shotgun and it is one of my favorite possessions. I have my .22 rifle and shotgun in my bedroom closet. Some days, coming home after a beating, I stare at them. I remember what the maker of the Colt pistols, Colonel Colt said, as quoted in the movie, “Winchester 1873”. “A Colt pistol makes all men equal.”

The point Colonel Colt was making was that, if a man had less size and strength, he could protect his family and his life with a Colt pistol. I would definitely use a gun if still in the Wild West but the Ten Commandments say, “Thou shall not kill” so I guess the rifle and shotgun cannot be the solution to my problem. Nevertheless, I wish I could use them to kill Rick, Bob, Donald and a few other people. On the other hand, maybe I can buy something else that will help me.

One day, when looking through a mail order catalogue, I found a “gravity blade”. It was a knife with a blade only 4 inches long, which was legal, and did not use springs to open it like a, "switchblade,” which was illegal. According to the brochure, holding the knife in a downward position and pushing a button, the blade immediately fell into a locked position ready for use. I sent for it immediately.

Three weeks later, the knife arrived in the mail. I took the package into my room and spent several hours practicing. I can get the blade to lock into place not only by just pointing the blade down but also by flicking my wrist while pressing the button, the blade snaps into place quickly. This is perfect, it is legal to carry and I can get the blade out quickly if I need it. The knife became a normal part of the things that I routinely carry around with me. When wearing my jacket, I placed the knife in the right hand pocket. In warmer months, I carried it in my right pants pocket. The handle was black and made of hard plastic with the button in any easy position for the thumb.

Having that weapon gives me more confidence when facing bullies because it is there for my use if I need it. I also discover that facing the bullies without fear but and showing genuine anger is the best way to stay out of a fight. I hear some adults discussing kids fighting always say that the best way to avoid a fight is to walk away. That simply does not work. Every time I tried this, it encouraged them to keep it up or they beat me up anyway. Obviously, attempting to walk away signals the bully that you fear them and this encourages them to continue with the intimidation.

I am sure of one thing about bullies, they are afraid of getting hurt. If they think there is any chance they might experience pain, they act cautiously. However, if they have friends with them they will most likely continue with the intimidation process until they show their superiority to the victim. From their point of view, it is not as much about the actual fighting as the importance and need to enhance their image in their own mind and in the eyes of others. Simply put, the shared goal by all bullies of all ages is a desire for a better opinion of themselves and, if possible, a high social ranking.

Now that I am 14 years old, and a sophomore in high school, I am older than most students that go to my school because it includes all grades from kindergarten up through high school. Because I am still smaller and shorter than many other males two grades behind me, I am the first chosen when a person in a lower grade needs to enhance his image by fighting someone in a higher grade. When this frequently happens, I now have to get very aggressive in a confrontation. The growing anger within me seems to help but it still surprises me if they walk away after I pretend to be so eager to fight.

Isolated in my room, every night I think about the unpleasant daily events and search for new ways to drive away an attacker. Well experienced with bullying, I created my rules for fighting, with the first key question, “Do I have to fight” so I was sure that I do not have any choice. If I can somehow avoid the fight, I will. My rules for fighting help me take quick action when necessary but I continue to think about them in depth, and include many different situations.

What the bullies want to see most is fear. If you show fear, they continue the bullying. Therefore, another rule is, "When face to face, do not show fear or retreat.” Be very careful about moving your feet backward by the slightest amount, and stand your ground. I never started a fight in my life but I have been in hundreds of them. The first question of, "Do I have to fight”, is important in many ways, but it is also a major disadvantage to allow the bully the first punch. When hit solidly in the face or stomach, it makes me weaker and gives the bully a bigger edge in winning the fight that follows. When punched in the nose as I have many times, tears come into both eyes from the impact, and I cannot see clearly. Learning to anticipate and block that first punch is critical.

Other rules that make sense are, “Never make the first punch unless you get a solid “yes” to the question of, “Do I have to fight?” Then hit first, and keep hitting until they stop moving or quit. If not sure, be ready to block that first punch, and strike hard when touched in any way. Unfriendly touching includes poking with the hand or finger, slapping, punching or shoving. The only chance I have to win a fight with someone bigger is to keep hitting him without pausing. If I do get the advantage on a bigger person and I stop punching before I win, he has a much better than even chance of winning the fight due to his size and strength. These rules, made after years of bullying, lead to a lot more aggressive behavior on my part than the person I prefer to be. The truth is that I want life to be always peaceful, professional and friendly but I have to follow these personal rules in order to defend myself. I hate violence, but I have to get good at it if I want to stay alive - - - -and I will.

In addition to fighting, there are many occasions with other acquaintances, when there are challenges like climbing a steep hill, playing football, colliding with big players that constantly test my courage. I will not chicken out from here on out, no matter what, because this makes the bigger people think they can push me around without paying the personal price of pain. Death cannot possibly be worse than this constant pain and overwhelming fear of my everyday life.

When waking in the morning, in addition to the pain that goes from legs to chest, I also have that terrible sad feeling most of the time. I have it a lot, but it is getting worse due to my constant fear. I am glad it is finally summertime again because sunshine makes me feel better, and the sad feeling sometimes goes away. Besides the sun, eating ice cream is another thing that helps, temporarily. It makes my head feel colder and the sadness goes away for a little while. When dealing with sadness by eating ice cream, Mom says it will make me fat. However, if I do gain more weight, it will help me deal with some of the bigger people. I still work out three or four times a week and am beginning to feel my muscles more than ever. I plan to get stronger because there is nothing more that I want than to beat up Rick the prick. I will never forget him and plan to get even no matter what it takes.

A few days later

Today is a nice summer Saturday and I am heading to Enjoi Park because the large bandstand in the football stadium is under construction for the upcoming Fourth of July celebration. Many of us go there every year and watch them build this large, twelve-foot high temporary stage. If there is not much else going on, I can always go over to other parts of the park and even ride the merry-go-round. Of course, I could also go swimming in the public pool but I did not bring my bathing suit. All of us kids are excited about the upcoming Fourth of July spectacular live music show followed by fireworks. Walking down Main Street toward the high school, I turn left into the parking lot. Entering the football stadium, the first thing I see is the large band platform right on the fifty-yard line of the football field close to the front bleachers. Because it is Saturday and the construction workers are off for the weekend, there are already many kids on the platform playing and having a lot of fun.

The platform is not finished but the stairs in the rear that lead to the top of the platform are complete. There are no handrails yet and it is unpainted. The platform has a large wide-open space on top where the band will play. Walking up the stairs at the rear of the stage, I see some of the kids playing tag and running around. Looking behind me, I see Bernie and Jim coming up the stairs. Bernie and Jim both live about two blocks from me on another street. Bernie, a strong person my age, used to beat me up occasionally a long time ago but we became friends in the last year or so. Jim lives a couple of houses away from Bernie, and I have heard he is even tougher than Bernie is. The story is that Jim and Bernie had a fight once and Jim won. They are both a lot bigger and stronger than I am.

Jim and Bernie looked around and noticed the kids running around, most of them who are smaller. Jim says, "Let's play king of the mountain! The last one on the platform is the winner!” Some kids immediately jumped off the platform to the soft grass below or went quickly down the stairs. I did not want to play this foolish game but it was important for me not to chicken out either, so I stayed. When I was doing my part to get other kids off the platform, when I got them near the edge of the platform, rather than push them off, I would tell him, "jump.” Soon there were only the three of us left. Jim and Bernie looked at me and said,