Wednesday, 4 January 2017
I was eleven
I was eleven, his eyes blazed hatefully at me but I stood my ground. Usually kids ran away when he clenched his fists and started calling them names but for some reason I hadn't done so and he was now unsure. His mouth was gaping open wondering what to do with this new boy in school. So he threw a punch so hit him back straight away so he was surprised and hurt as I had found his face. Tears welled up in his eyes as this once incorrigible lad was now laid bare as he was weak and unsure of himself or perhaps had an unhappy home life. He turned and ran off shouting "I'll tell on you!"
His mother called at our home the next day with the boy in tow. "Your boy hit my boy yesterday" she started as my mother looked crossly at them both. "He punched me first" I said standing safely by my mother.
His mother then turned to look at her son and he hung his head in shame as the schoolyard prank had misfired and was just getting complicated. She grabbed his hand as she turned to go and said to him "Just you wait until I get you home, boy".
Note: This is a true story from sixty years ago.
Image found at www.today.com