AND IN THIS CORNER chapter 15

Ronnie was a short little kid, but the only one I knew in the entire school that seemed to have some muscle definition. Unlike others, his upper arm muscle didn’t just slightly rise up like the rest of the boys, there was clear definition of where it bulged and where it went down and the connection to his shoulder was sharp with skin folding tightly over the top of his shoulder defining every little muscle. He made sure everyone noticed his muscles. He walked around pumping his arms up like a body builder. To make his position even stronger, he pushed kids, tripped them, threatened them and challenged them to fights.

Ronnie was a year behind me. Of course, I noticed him. He was hard to miss, but I didn’t really know him. He had already worked his way through the younger kids and his own class by scaring or beating up on all of them. Then he began working his way through some of the upper grades. When he got around to me, he was in fourth grade and I was in fifth.

He had already tried to take on David. He just lived two doors up from the school. The problem with challenging kids who lived so close to the school was they never walked past the killing field — the place were all fights were staged — 28^th and Burt. I guess all the adults who lived in that house worked. None of us ever saw anyone around so the corner of their lot was used as a boxing/wrestling ring. While David was tempted and tormented, he never gave into Ronnie’s threats. Besides, he could be home and safely inside in 2-3 minutes after school. He did that for a long time before Ronnie gave up.

When he could never get anything going with David through pushing, shoving and hitting him on the shoulder, he moved on to the twins. They were the smallest boys in my class. Greg and Craig were identical twins. They may have been small but they were both wiry and very fast. The brothers rarely hung around each other at recess and it appeared that Ronnie many have been confused as to who he was challenging. One or the other finally agreed to accept his challenge and meet him at the foot of boot hill.

When the appointed day and time arrived, both brothers showed up for the fight. “Wait a minute. I only wanted to fight one of you.” Greg (or maybe Craig) said, “you challenged both of us and told us both the same time and date, so here we are.” Ronnie immediately cried foul. “It not fair, cowards, chickens, have to team up on me, huh!” and on and on. Needless to say, all parties when home without a scratch.

He tried threatening Jack. When I heard about that I thought he was really stupid. I guess he saw Jack sitting along the wall alone and slumped over when he came up and punched him in the arm. All Jack did was look up, slowly stand up and said, “Are you looking for a fight.” Jack towered over the poor kid who said no, and moved on.

When he got around to me it was the same old thing, Pushing, shoving, tripping, threatening, anything he could do to get a rise. I had decided early I was not going to fight the kid. I loved to fake fight and wrestle with my friends, but I had never hit anyone in anger (except maybe my brother). He quickly added all kinds of derogative terms and name-calling. Those get under your skin pretty quickly. The saying was always, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.” Wrong. That wasn’t true. The names dug into your psychic and gnawed away until you were about to explode. Since we lived in Omaha I always that that kid should be stuck in Boys Town – the detention part.

Austin and others encouraged me to take the brat on. I didn’t want to tell them I had never been in a fight and frankly, had no interest in this one either, I could run out the school door and be home quicker than David. I could avoid the fighting but not the taunts. Friends said, “Just do it and beat the crap out of him.” Right! I wasn’t sure I would even get a good swing in. But I gave in and we agreed on a day.

I had to walk a block away from home to meet Ronnie and he was there waiting for me when I arrived. He started the name-calling and screaming obscenities before I even got to the corner. By the time I mounted the rise my face was red and steam was coming out of the top of my head. We circled a couple of times then without warning I charged and flatten him on his back. I immediately got on top and began pounding away at his face and chest. When people could see blood coming from his lip they pulled me off. I was angry that it had come to this, and I wanted him to know to leave me alone.

I hung out at the corner for a long time with my friends as they congratulated me and patted me on my back. All I could think was that I had beat up a poor arrogant little fourth grader.

When I got home, mother jumped all over me. It seemed that Ronnie’s mother had called mine and complained that I had beaten up her poor defenseless little boy who only wanted to be friends with everyone and he had a black eye and a bloody lip and it was my fault. Huh?

When dad got home I was to be switched. I tried to explain why and how it happened, but to dad there was never any excuse for fighting let alone a bigger kid picking on a smaller one. I was angry with dad as the switching was unjustified, but even through the punishment I had a smile in my heart that I had stopped that little brat.