Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

            The Gooch has heard from the grapevine that you want to hear a story, am I right? Of course, I am, but don’t you worry, because I am happy to oblige you. Now, you know about Backyard Sports, right? That kids athletics club that is the talk of the town these days? Well, a club like that was not built in a day. The Gooch knows that from personal experience, because I, like so many other people, have helped it grow with my own two hands. Whenever I think of that club, there is one fact about it that comes to mind before any other; the adults may do their good work behind the scenes to keep the club afloat, but it is the kids playing their hearts out who give Backyard Sports its heart, and every kid has a story to tell. Heck, even the Gooch has a story of his own, one that I share with three other kids of note. If you want to hear it, then take a seat and listen up. Now like any good story, it needs a strong title and I can’t think of a better one than this;

El Arma Secreta

            It began over a year before Backyard Sports was an actual thing. Back then, the neighborhood was, in many ways, the same as it is today. Sure, it did not have a large sports club that kids flocked to for fun and competition, but there were still plenty of children running around the parks and playgrounds, having fun in every way that they could think of. For many of us kids, in fact, those places were safe havens where we could have fun and be ourselves. Of course, the grown-ups made sure to keep a watchful eye on us, but they usually did this from a distance, so that we could enjoy ourselves without them breathing down our necks. That is, as long as we did not hurt ourselves, or each other for that matter. If any of that crud happened, then the grown-ups, our parents especially, would come rushing in to help at the drop of a hat! While it is true that many of us kids played games while out on those parks and playgrounds, some of them had their fun by chatting it up with their friends. If you were there and listened closely, you could hear the juicy gossip being spread around by them, especially by teenagers. There were also other kids who, like yours truly, enjoyed their time off from school, homework, and chores by finding a comfy spot to sit on away from everyone else, kicking back, and watching the friendly chaos unfold. That is not to say that The Gooch did not enjoy playing with others, for I definitely did that from time to time. But more often than not, I found more enjoyment in just chilling out on my butt, taking in the peaceful scenery as I watched those little ones laugh, talk, and play without fear. Of course, no safe haven is immune to troublemakers.

            The one that my parents took me to back then was Playground Commons, a lovely area with a very well-kept playground that had all of the stuff that any kid in their right mind would look for in a place like this; monkey bars, a teeter-totter, a slide (not a metal one thankfully, those things can burn your butt on hot Summer days), a rainbow-colored jungle-gym, a swing set with three seats, and more than enough sand to build with all over the ground. A few bleachers were scattered about along the sides of the playground, near the tall metal fence that surrounded the whole area. There was a vacant lot next to the area on the eastern side, but it was private property, so no smart kid would try to go there without getting in trouble. The Gooch loved going to playgrounds, but this one was my favorite, mainly because there was this one bleacher off to the far western side of the area that the other kids usually avoided due to being distracted by their fun, which made it perfect for relaxing on. I would come to this spot every time I came here, without fail. The other kids probably knew what I was doing, but they were too busy doing their own things to pay much attention to something like that. I was just fine with that situation because I just wanted to relax, you know? But something happened one day while I was sitting on that bleacher, as I normally did. Remember what I said about some kids spreading gossip around? Well, I did hear bits and pieces of stuff like that from time to time, but I did not pay any mind to such things. Gossip can be such a bother, so I preferred to ignore it. This time, however, seeing two girls gossiping in front of me, within earshot mind you, had caught my attention, and not just because of the topic of discussion.

One of them was this lady with short red hair, white skin, and a brown dress. I did not know her at all. Her friend, on the other hand, was a different story altogether! This girl was about as tall as her friend, I’d say about half a head taller than me. She had dark brown hair that was combed behind her head, brown skin, wore a light-blue shirt, matching pants, a slick pair of white sneakers, and a pair of plain-looking light-blue gloves. There was only one kid I knew of at the time who wore gloves to a playground; Stephanie Morgan! Back then, she and I were good pals, and I had never seen her gossip out in public before, and yet here it was, happening before my eyes! So, you can bet good money that the Gooch was interested in what was being said by these two people, especially by Steph. Yes, I know I said that gossip can be a bother, but I had put that aside out of curiosity and an understanding that whatever my friend was saying had to be interesting at least. This is what I could hear from the moment that I decided to listen to their chat more closely, I could hear the frustration in their voices as they spoke;

“It’s been months, and Jimmy still hasn’t gotten in trouble?!”

“Sorry Steph, I tried to tell my parents, but they won’t believe me.”

“… Did he get to them too?”

“I don’t know, girl. I hope not.”

“I overheard him talking to one of the adults here yesterday about how he loves kids.”

“More like he loves to make kids cry. Did he bother you again, Steph?”

 “Not yet… What are we going to do about him?

            Hearing all of this was enough to help me understand the situation; apparently some bully named Jimmy was picking on kids and getting away with it. This discovery angered me, and the fact that one of his targets was my friend angered me even more. It did not help that Stephanie had a look of pain and sadness on her face as she talked about Jimmy’s antics, which only added to my anger. So, I decided to get up off of my butt, carefully walk past the girls without them seeing me, and investigate the playground to see if I could find Jimmy and stop him, the image of Steph’s sadness vivid in my mind. The plan that I had hatched in my brain as I walked was to quietly catch Jimmy in the act of bullying a kid and sneak my way over to the nearest adult to point them in his direction before he could find out what was going on. This way, I could help bring this jerk to justice and give my dear friend a surprise she would never forget! It took a bit of careful searching without letting anyone know that I was even looking for something, but I managed to hear the soft, threatening tone of a teenaged boy coming from the eastern side of the large office building that stood tall over the playground from the north. I figured it was Jimmy who was there for two reasons; Firstly, I heard that tone coming from a spot that was along the building’s east side wall, conveniently out of sight and earshot of everyone else on the playground. Lastly, I could also hear the terrified whimpering of a younger boy who was about ready to cry coming from the same location. I slowly and quietly walked up as close to them as I could, with the fence being the thing standing between me and seeing the fiasco happen up close. I could have moved to a spot at the fence where I could see them both, but I did not want Jimmy to see me. Thankfully, I was close enough to hear their voices clearly. Jimmy’s voice was deep, rough, and oozed with ill-intentions. The other voice was that of a frightened boy who had a slight wheezing sound in his breath. I had arrived just as Jimmy was delivering a rather mean-spirited insult to the poor kid;

“What is with that wheezy voice of yours? I should start calling Little Wheezy, sound good to you?”

The boy who I simply refuse to refer to as Little Wheezy responded with a shaky voice;

“N-No. That d-does not sound good to me at all.”

Jimmy was not phased by this at all as he responding in a mocking tone;

“I’ll call you that anyway. Little Wheezy! Little Wheezy!”

I could hear his target sniffing back his tears as Jimmy kept at it. As much as I wanted to stand up for him, the fence was in the way, and I did not want to make noise that would get me caught by his bully. So, I tried to slowly turn around and walk to one of the adults, as planned. Unfortunately, one of the boys in the playground bumped into me by accident after I walked two steps back the way I came, which caused me to yelp too loudly for my own good. The boy apologized before running off to play, allowing me to turn around to notice that Jimmy had heard the commotion and was running along the fence to get into the playground. Without hesitation, I turned back around and ran for the nearest adult that I could find as fast as my legs could manage. But Jimmy was faster, fast enough to catch me by putting his right hand on my right shoulder before I could get anyone’s attention.

            I slowly turned around to face him, and oh my goodness, he was a giant of a teenager! Taller than every other kid in the playground, in the whole neighborhood for that matter, and with big muscles to match, Jimmy wore a brown short-sleeved shirt with one large white fist raised upwards on the front, blue jeans with holes that showed his knees, and an admittedly nice-looking blue & white trucker hat that covered most of his black hair, save for the left and right sides of his head. He looked at me with a face that appeared to be friendly, but one good look at his hazel eyes was enough to tell me that he was as angry as can be. Just looking him in the eye was enough to send a terrible chill down my spine, with all of my instincts telling me to run as far away from him as possible. His iron grip on my shoulder would not allow that, however, as he lowered his head over to my left ear and whispered in a menacing tone that I remember to this day;

“Rat me out, little brat, and I will make your life Hell.”

He then let go of my shoulder and said to me out loud in a ‘friendly’ voice that was clearly fake to my ears;

“It was nice talking to you, kid. I hope that we can be friends.”

After that, he walked away in silence, with a devious smile on his face that I saw for a moment as he turned away. One of the nearby adults responded to Jimmy’s words by noting how good he is with kids. Clearly, none of them had heard what he had whispered to me. I was frozen, frozen in fear and shock. Fear of a bully who was taller and stronger than me, and shocked over the fact that he could hide his antics so well, that the adults saw him as a good man who would do no harm to anyone. None of them believed the kids who he targeted at the time, simply because, in my mind, he was older than them, and the adults, in their minds, knew Jimmy Knuckles enough to believe that he would never bully anyone. But they did not know him. Jimmy knew that, and he loved to use that fact to his benefit. It did not take me long to truly understand this on my own, even in my frozen state. I mean, what I heard from Stephanie and her friend helped me understand a little, but to experience this problem myself was another thing entirely! At that point, the Gooch became too afraid to tell adults about what had happened, because who among them would believe a snot-nosed brat over a teenager?

            As the days passed, I became one of Jimmy’s frequent targets for his cruelty, probably to make sure that I would not blab about him. He called me insulting names (including four-eyes, shorty, bratty-pants, and a favorite of his, Vinnie the Weeny), bragged on and on about how he was better than me at everything, discouraged me from doing anything fun, all without letting the adults hear him. One would expect a bully like him to hurt me physically or steal my things, but he was not like any typical bully. He never stole any of my stuff and, as shocking as this may sound, he never once attacked me physically. No punches, no kicks, no grabs or throws, he didn’t even try to pull on my hair or smack me with a weapon! I could not, for the life of me, figure out why this was the case. I was certainly not alone in this, for none of his targets could solve this mystery either. I had learned of this from Steph at school during lunch hour, after I had told her about what had happened between Jimmy and myself. The adults would not listen, but I knew that she would, since we both suffered at his hands. She made it clear to me that she wanted to stop Jimmy, not just for the two of us, but for every other kid who Jimmy had hurt, and from what she had learned, we were many in number. After she had been bullied, Stephanie had made a point to find and talk to anyone else who had the misfortune of encountering Jimmy. Based on what she had learned, eight kids were targeted by him, Stephanie and I included. She refused to mention them by name, even to me, because they did not want other bullies to find out about their predicament, out of fear of them being picked on by them over it. As frightened as I was of him, I still wanted to stop him too. We just did not know how to do it. Heck, we did not even have the guts to stand up to him, and who could blame us? But as the saying goes, something had to give. Someone had to put their foot down. One day, someone did.

            It happened at Playground Commons, five days after my run-in with Jimmy. I was sitting at my favorite bleacher when he decided to have another one of his ‘talks’ with me. He stood right in front of me as he began softly hurling insults in my direction. I was angry at him, but too frightened to talk back at him. I looked down at the ground, feeling ashamed at myself for being too chicken to confront my bully. I could not even look him in the eye. This egged him on even further as he continued his insult-spree. But then, I heard a rush of footsteps coming towards us, but I was too dejected to react to that. But I did notice Jimmy suddenly becoming silent right after the footsteps stopped, the shadow of their source covering the ground below my face. I slowly looked back up, wondering what could possibly get him to shut up, even for a moment. What, or rather who I had seen was a person, a boy roughly the same size as the Gooch who wore blue pants, white sneakers, a yellow short-sleeved shirt with white sleeves, and a large yellow baseball cap that made it impossible to tell if he had hair on his head at all. His arms were raised to stretch straight out from both sides of his body as if he was shielding me from my bully. I was understandably surprised to see that someone, anyone really, would have the guts to stand up to Jimmy like this. Speaking of the muscular jerk, I looked up at him to see that he was visibly shocked at what he was seeing. Obviously, he did not expect someone to act this gutsy over his antics. But after a taking a breath while looking the boy in the eye, he then gave him a threat with a soft, deep, annoyed voice;

“Now you had better walk on out of here, little runt. Unless you want me to give you a hard time too.”

The boy stood completely still, like a small statue, without uttering a single word. I wanted to tell him to get out of there before he could hurt him too, but Jimmy’s presence was enough to keep me silent out of sheer horror over the consequences. The bully’s annoyance became increasingly prevalent on his face as he threatened again with that same voice as before, only with more annoyance in his tone;

“Didn’t you hear me the first time, runt? Walk on out of here, now.”

The boy remained unmoving and silent. I was still surprised by what I was seeing, but I was also starting to realize something. Here was this little guy, the same size as me, standing against a bully who was as mean as he was smart, for the sake of someone else, and what was the Gooch doing? Nothing. I was too frightened to stand with him, and that… oh, that made me furious at myself. Furious enough to speak up without even noticing what I was doing, with a voice filled with five days’ worth of pain in every word that I uttered;

“He heard you plainly, Jimmy. He just doesn’t like what you have to say.” My big mouth caused Jimmy to go from annoyed at the boy to angry at us both, who then spoke to us with a furiously soft voice;

“So, Vinnie the Weeny has decided to grow a spine, eh? Fine then, I’ll deal with you two idiots later.”

He then stormed off in a silent huff, leaving me surprised at myself and at the kid in front of me over what we had done in the face of danger.

After taking a few deep breaths to collect myself, I then spoke to my defender with a shaken, but friendly voice;

“The Gooch thanks you for your help, but he’ll be coming for us both now, and you won’t like it one bit.”

As if responding to my words, he turned around to look at me, his face looking serious for a moment before turning into a warm smile, the kind that can calm a person’s mind in a matter of seconds, know what I mean? It certainly calmed mine with ease as I got a good look at his appearance. He had brown eyes and the front of his hat was facing his right side. He also had a pudgy belly that poked out from under his shirt, a fact that I chose not to mention to avoid upsetting him. He then nodded his head at me slightly with that smile still etched on his face, turned around, and began to walk away. The Gooch was not looking to let him walk off like that however, for this little kid had just saved my butt from a bully who seemed unstoppable until he showed up from out of nowhere. This meant, in my mind, that I could call him my friend, and friends talk to each other.

           I got up from the bleacher in a hurry and rushed over to his left side to chat it up with him some more, the tone in my voice becoming calmer and more cheerful over time as we walked together;

“Now hold up! You should know that by defending me back there, you have made a friend in the Gooch.”

He looked over to me and nodded his head again, that smile refusing to leave his face as if it were glued onto it as I then politely requested to him;

“It would be nice if you could give me your name. My name is Vinnie.”

He stopped moving and turned his head to look around the playground for a moment. I stopped moving to watch what he was doing. Everyone around us was going about their business, too busy to have noticed what had just happened. He then turned his head to face forward and walked off. Before I could react, my parents called out from far behind me; it was time to go home. I looked over to them for a moment and then looked back over to my new friend, only to find that he was nowhere to be seen.

“Heh, I’ll get your name yet, pal.”, I thought to myself with a small smile on my face as I walked over to my parents to head home.

            The very next day, I managed to catch Stephanie walking down our school’s hallway between classes. Most of the students had already found their classes by then, so it was a pretty empty hall. I told her what had happened, and let me tell you; she was stunned!

“Someone actually stood up to Jimmy?!”, she exclaimed loudly. She took a moment to cool down before continuing;

“That is so cool! I can’t blame you for being so scared, Vinny. I would have been too, if I were in your shoes.”

She gently placed her right hand on my left shoulder as a show of support, one that I appreciated. She then asked me excitedly;

“Did you see him again?”

“Not yet,” I said calmly in response;

“I’m not sure if he even goes to our school. That little guy is a mystery, that’s for sure.”

Stephanie nodded in agreement as she spoke;

“I hear you. Oh man, just wait until I tell the others about this!”

She then ran off in the direction of her class before I could blink. I figured she was referring to the other kids that Jimmy had bullied. I was right, because I would soon learn from Stephanie that they were all happy as can be over what that brave little boy had done for me. Thanks to her choice to spread the good word, her friends then told their friends about it, a pattern that repeated until many of the kids both in school and at Playground Commons started gossiping about it. For once, I got to hear the kind of gossip that was music to my ears when I was sitting on my favorite bleacher later that day after school. Well, it was mostly music, as I would quickly learn while listening in on what the kids were saying;

“You heard the news, someone stopped Jimmy from bullying someone!”

“Seriously? I didn’t think anyone could stop that jerk.”

“Why didn’t you stop him? You were there when it happened.”

“We were all there, man, but I was too afraid to stand up to him.”

“I think we all were… but that kid who did though, so brave!”

“Yeah, I heard he stopped Jimmy without saying a word.”

“I know, right? He didn’t even punch the big guy! Jimmy just walked away!”

“I wish I was that brave, then I would tell the grown-ups about him.”

“But would they believe any of us?”

“Doubt it, Jimmy has them all fooled.”

Their words made it clear to the Gooch what was going on; the little boy’s bravery had brought joy to many children, but still, none of them had the guts to stand up to Jimmy, let alone speak out about his behavior. This did not sit well with me, as I thought to myself;

“I think these kids need more of a push to get them to help us.”

Just as I had finished my thought, I noticed on the corner of my right eye the memorable appearance of a certain trucker hat. I immediately looked over to the right to see that, off in the distance, at the southeastern corner of the playground fence, Jimmy Knuckles was at it again.

            His target this time was a little boy with blonde hair, white skin, a white dress shirt with a blue necktie, blue pants, and white sneakers with blue laces. I recognized this kid as Reese Worthington, one of my classmates. A smarter kid than most with a fun sense of humor and an extensive vocabulary, but from what I was seeing, he was one of the eight kids who Jimmy picked on regularly, which definitely explains why he wasn’t as fun-loving as usual in our class. Jimmy was not attempting to physically hurt him or steal his stuff, as was expected of him. But I knew that he was up to no good. The sense of goodwill urged me to help Reese by interrupting that jerk’s dumb take on fun, but my fear of being hurt again froze my legs and feet in place. But then I remember when I found the courage to talk back at Jimmy, the thought of which weakened that fear enough for me to slowly walk up the two of them. Before I could take four steps forward, however, that silent boy in the yellow hat came running to them from the crowds of kids playing around behind Jimmy, who was standing in front of Reese, who had his back up against the fence while shaking in fear. The boy stopped to stand between them, turned to face Jimmy, and stretched his arms straight out to the sides, just as he did with me! I stopped moving right then and there, knowing perfectly well that at this point, Reese was in good hands. But I decided to watch the festivities play out, as the idea of seeing Jimmy Knuckles be denied a chance to be mean to younger kids was too enjoyable for me to pass up. I smiled as I watched the large teenager’s mouth move. Clearly, he was trying to quietly tell the kid to get away, but I was too far away to hear any of them speak. As I expected, the boy stood his ground, refusing to move an inch. I looked more closely at Reese and I could tell, even from my vantage point, that he was as shocked over what he was seeing as I was when this happened to me. But something else happened that was different from before; someone else had noticed what was going on this time. I saw to my left that one of the kids who was playing in the sand while sitting just outside of the crowd behind Jimmy, a little girl with black hair that covered the back of her neck and brown skin, had gotten up and started talking to the other children. While she talked, I noticed that she was pointing directly at him! She started with the older kid in front of her, who then helped her tell another nearby kid about what was happening. They then told another one, and another one, and needless to say, the whole situation quickly snowballed, as many of the kids in the crowd quickly turned their heads over to Jimmy, Reese, and the little boy himself to see what was going on! Bless that little girl’s heart, because if she never spoke up, I would not have had the pleasure of seeing my bully turning around to see the crowd looming closer to him and the two other boys, his legs shaking a little out of sheer nervousness. At this point, Jimmy had no other choice but to walk away before the adults could notice the commotion, leaving behind a smiling boy and a relieved Reese.

            The Gooch was thrilled at this turn of events. So much so, that I ran over to those two and gave the brave boy my verbal support in excitement-induced celebration;

“Hahaha! The Gooch thanks you for helping out another good person!”

I then turned over to Reese, who was still looking relieved, even though he did look away from me out of what appeared to be nerves. I calmed myself down enough to show him that he had my support too by telling him so in a soft, gentle voice;

“That kid who defended you is a good one, and I am a good one too.”

I then raised my right hand as an offer to shake his. He looked at it for a moment before slowing reaching out to shake it, a small smile appearing on his face as he did so. After shaking hands, I turned back over to talk with our new friend some more, who was looking at us with that calming smile from before. Reese walked past me to stand in front of him, he was just a little bit taller than his defender. He then raised his right hand to give him the same handshake that I had just given to the blond kid and said in a polite, slightly shaken tone;

“Th-thank you for standing up for me, sir.”

The boy did not hesitate to accept Reese’s offer. After the hand-shaking was done, he then nodded his head to each of us, turned around, and walked away. The crowd of kids, all of whom was watching this scene play out, made room for him to move through them easily. I could hear a little girl giggling happily as he left. As far as I could tell, many of them knew, or at least suspected, that this kid was the one that stood up for me not too long ago, and they figured it best to let him be. At that moment, I didn’t chase after him this time, instead I chose to let him be too. He had earned that much, at least.

            The next day was on the weekend, so that meant no school for any of us children. This also meant more time at Playground Commons for me, which gave me the perfect opportunity to give Stephanie some more goodness. She explained that she wasn’t at the playground the day before, due to having to help care for a family member who had fallen ill. I understood this wholeheartedly because I was raised to put family first before most things. Before I could tell her about what she had missed, she told me in a rather jovial voice;

“So, I hear that our little friend has stuck again.”

Apparently, the gossip mill had beat me to the punch, as she then explained to me what she had heard about and wanted to hear it from me too, since I was a witness. I left no detail unmentioned, much to her joy.

“Does that kid even know what fear is?”, she jokingly asked while giggling.

“Speaking of fear, it was so much fun seeing Jimmy squirm when he saw that crowd.”, I noted with a pleased smile.

Stephanie looked just as pleased at the thought of that happening to him as she also noted excitedly;

“Oh, when I see that little girl who spoke up, I am going to give her the biggest hug ever!”

I giggled at that lovely thought as I responded in a jovial manner;

“I’ve been hearing the kids talking about what happened. The ones who did not know about Jimmy’s antics, including the teenagers, are getting curious about him.”

Stephanie laughed joyfully upon hearing this as she then decided to turn her head and body to look around the playground. As she turned back to face me, she asked out of curiosity;

“I hate to ask, but where is Jimmy today?”

“You don’t see him anywhere here?”, I asked in return while feeling pretty darn confused.

“No, I don’t see him at all.”, she answered, sounding just as confused as I was as she continued;

“Odd, he comes to the playground every day.”

We then agreed to each other that it was best to keep our eyes open for him while we had our fun. Amazingly, there was no sign of our bully anywhere at the playground, from the moment we started looking to the moment when we had to go home. It was the most fun day we had in months. But as I sat in the family car during the trip home, I could not help but wonder;

“It’s not like Jimmy to not be around, even for a day. Did he get sick?”

Another thought crossed my mind right after I finished the first one, a thought took me by surprise for a moment before I decided to entertain it;

“Wait a moment… Did that boy, do what I think he did? Did he actually… scare Jimmy away?”

It was a mad thought, but there it was. For the first time since I was bullied by him, I thought in my head, and felt in my heart, that he was finally stopped. I truly believed, for the rest of that day and night, that it was over, that the nameless boy with the yellow hat had stopped Jimmy Knuckles.

            I should have known better than to think of such things so soon. The next day of the weekend had come, and I was chilling on my bleacher, minding my own business. This time, however, I was not alone. Stephanie was sitting at my right side, drinking from a small box of cherry juice through a straw. I made sure to leave room on the bleacher for the nameless kid to sit on if he showed up, as a thank you for being so darn courageous and nice. Sure enough, I saw him walking over to us from halfway across the playground and waved at him to let him know where we were. He looked back with that big as heck smile of his and ran on over to us. He nodded at us as he took his seat at the bleacher, still as silent as ever. I was willing to relax in silence with him, to enjoy our newfound peace, but Stephanie could not help but verbally burst in excitement;

“I have so many questions, friend! I mean, what is your name? How are you able to take Jimmy’s crud so easily? Why are you so silent, are you a mute, or do you just not want to talk to people? How are you so gosh-darn awesome!?”

When she started talking, she had stood up while looking directly at the boy. By the time she had finished, she was standing over him with the most excited look on her face that I had seen in months. The poor kid was leaning back slightly while looking visibly taken aback by Stephanie effectively throwing a pile of questions on his lap. I decided to chime in while gently tapping her left arm in an attempt to stop her from truly flipping her lid;

“Easy there, Steph. Give the kid room to breathe, why don’t ya?”

She clearly recognized what I was getting at, for she then took a step back and apologized to him in a nervous voice;

“Sorry about that, friend. Jimmy bullied me too, in fact, I was the first kid that he targeted, as far as I know. So, when I heard that someone stood up to him when no one else would, or could…”

She silently looked away, off to her right side, while firmly holding her right arm. I understood exactly how she felt, for I knew as well as she did that fear has a habit of keeping good people from doing what is right. I looked over at the boy, who was listening to her every word with a look that screamed of calm seriousness. I turned my attention back to Stephanie as she continued, her nerves slightly less rattled;

“I knew that I had to get to know him, maybe even… earn his friendship.”

The kid responded by standing up, walking over to her, and raising his right hand to shake hers. His smile came back, allowing him to show a quiet understanding of what she was getting at. Stephanie stood still for a moment before shaking his hand while telling with relief in her voice;

“Thank you. I should introduce myself, my name is Stephanie Morgan. What’s yours?”

“Yes, what is your name, little one?”

I knew that soft rough voice anywhere. We all knew it, for at that moment, we had slowly turned our heads to find Jimmy Knuckles standing next to Stephanie at her left side, his arrival completely missed by us because we were so focused on each other. I gave that young man the angriest look that I could give anyone, and I was sure that the others were doing the same thing. My fear of him was still in my head, but it was weaker than ever. He responded with a quick laugh and some words of his own, which were delivered in his indoor voice;

“Now, children, I am not here to cause you trouble.”

“I can’t imagine why.”, noted Stephanie, with a tone that was filled with fear, confidence, and a dash of anger as she then explained;

“I think it might have something to do with the fact that, thanks to you slipping up, every kid and teenager out here who does not know what you are actually like is suspicious of you.”

Jimmy gave her a scathing look that could pierce metal. It shook her up a little, which gave me the opportunity to help her out by speaking up as well. The fear inside my head begged me not to, but the goodwill in my heart was stronger this time;

“Think about it, Jimmy.”

He turned his head over to me with that same scathing look as I continued;

“They have all been talking about you, wondering if that little girl was right about you being mean to Reese. Now, no one has said anything to the adults, and we both know why.”

That last bit allowed him to show a hint of relief, which made my verbal finishing blow all the sweeter;

“But, eventually, someone is going to start talking, and there are too many people out here for you to stop.”

The look of rage in his eyes was terrifying to me back then, but upon retrospect, it was priceless! He we were, two of Jimmy’s targets, giving him some serious lip over his shenanigans. I was not sure what drove Stephanie to give him a talking-to so suddenly. But through her bravery, she was able to inspire me to do the same thing, and that was on top of my own sense of goodwill egging me own as well. He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them back up as he walked closer to us, leaned forward so that his face was inches away from that of our nameless friend, and spoke in a rough, surprisingly calm whisper that sent an all-too-familiar chill down my spine as the two boys looked each other in the eye;

“How about we settle our differences through… a game.”

“Seriously?”, asked Stephanie in both confusion and annoyance.

“Yes, Bubbles, a game.”, Jimmy said in response, without so much as moving his head a centimeter in her direction.

Stephanie did not like being called ‘Bubbles’ by him at all back then, as it was his favorite insulting nickname to call her. I looked at her to see that she silently expressed that distaste by keeping that angry look aimed squarely at him. I switched my attention over to Jimmy to see that he kept his eyes locked on our friend, however, so he did not notice this at all as he explained;

“I offer you a chance to face me in a Homerun Derby match, you and me, one on one.”

I was quick to look back over to Stephanie to see that she looked off to her right side again for a moment before readjusting her gaze back at him. I knew why she did this, and I’ll get to that later.

“You have seen a Baseball match before, have you?”, Jimmy asked the boy.

The little guy silently shook his head while giving him a look of anger and seriousness mixed together into a facial blend that could scare anyone else. But not Jimmy, for he smiled a little in response to him effectively saying no while saying with a hint of relief in his voice;

“No problem, all you have to do is hit the ball hard enough to send it flying over a fence. The goal is to get the most homeruns by the end of twelve rounds. Obviously, we will be taking turns hitting the ball in each round. If you win, I will swear to never bully you or anyone who you consider to be your friend, and I won't skip town either. But…”

He paused for a moment while smiling, as if reveling in the moment, before finishing;

“If I win, I can bully whoever I want to, and you can’t do anything about it.”

This offer had the word ‘trap’ written all over it in my mind. Stephanie had the same idea, for she then asked in a disbelieving tone;

“How do we know that you won’t go back on your end of the deal if our friend here wins?”

His head and eyes were as stiff as statues when he answered her question, as if he cared only about dealing with our friend and not the two of us;

“Let me make this clear to you all: he will never beat me. But if by some miracle that he does, I will fulfill my end of the deal for one reason only…”

He took a deep breath before finishing, his terrifyingly calm demeanor refusing to leave him;

“I am a man who is as good as his word.”

Now it was my turn ask Jimmy a question. I did not believe him at all, so I was asking out curiosity;

“If he refuses to play, then what?”

A devious smile crept upon his face as he explained in that same frighteningly calm voice;

“If he says no, then I will just find some other place to have fun at. Oh sure, I’ll be out of your hair, but other kids would be… bothered by me.”

He looked over to me with nothing more than his eyes as he uttered;

“Think about it, Vinny.”

I have always hated admitting this, but he was right. I looked over at Stephanie, who was looking pretty distraught over what she had heard. Jimmy would not stop being a jerk, no matter where he went, and we both knew that. Our eyes then turned to our silent friend, who’s gaze remained fixed on the eyes of our bully. Jimmy then told him calmly, that darn smile still etched on his face and his eyes aimed back at him;

“Our venue will be the abandoned stadium at the center of town. You can bring a friend or two if you like, since we will need someone to pitch. But no adults are allowed during the match. I’ll walk away if I so much as see one there, and we all know what would happen after that.”

He laughed softly to himself for a moment before finishing;

“I’ll give us a week from today to prepare. So, what do you say, you want to play ball?”

All was silent for ten whole seconds. I should know, I counted them to myself. I knew that our friend had to accept the offer for the sake of kids everywhere, but I would not dare accept it for him. Stephanie, I would learn later on, had the same idea as me. This was his choice to make, not ours, and we would accept it, even if he said no. Once the eleventh second came, the nameless boy broke his silence with a calm voice that was filled with determination and certainty;

“Deal.”

            Jimmy then quickly leaned back to stand straight, clasped his hand together, and loudly announced in that polite, friendly tone that was almost as false as the lies that he told the adults;

“Wonderful! I hope that we have an enjoyable time together! See you later!”

He then walked away with a spring in his step, leaving us to process what just happened. The quiet one seemed pretty chill about it, but Steph and I were understandably horrified. She was the first one to explain to our friend what he had just gotten himself into, with a voice that was oozing with horror;

“That was brave of you and all, but how can you beat Jimmy at a Homerun Derby match when you haven’t seen a Baseball game in your life?! I mean, have you played the sport?!”

“I agree with you, Steph.”, said yours truly, with fear being very audible in my voice as well as I explained to him;

“I mean, in order for you to have the best chance at winning, you would have to learn from…”

The fear that once gripped me melted away as my thoughts moved over to what I was trying to say. At that moment, I realized something that was both important and exciting to me. Something that I decided right then and there to make clear to both of my friends as I finished my sentence with a more excited, yet softer voice so that only they could hear me;

“someone who knows a thing or two about Baseball.”

I then looked over to Stephanie with a mischievous grin on my face. She understood exactly what I was getting at, and she was not happy about it.

“No. Just no.”, was her frightened, yet soft, response, fear clearly visible on her face as she backed away a step.

“Come on now, Steph.”, I said quietly in response, not wanting to back down, while being gentle about it for her sake;

“He will need a lot of help in order get good at swinging a bat in a week. I know that you’re afraid of Jimmy, I am too. But didn’t you give him a hard time just now?”

“That was because… “, she started saying in an annoyed, frightened tone before stopping to take a breath so that she could finish;

“I have two of my friends here with me.”

That was just what I wanted to hear as I responded with kindness and confidence;

“Well then, your two friends will be with you while you help out.”

I then looked over the quiet boy and asked him;

“Right, pal?”

He looked over at Stephanie and nodded his head in agreement with his calming smile on his face. I looked back at her too, waiting for her response. She stood silent for five seconds and sighed in resignation before declaring in a whisper;

“Fine… but only because I like to help my friends and… I want to finally get back at Jimmy.”

She then took another breath and softly explained while looking at each of us repeatedly;

“Now, you two meet me at my house after school tomorrow. Vinny can tell you where to go. Oh, and one more thing.”

She aimed her gaze squarely at our friend as she slowly whispered;

“Don’t tell anyone about the game or the fact that I am going to help you, understand?”

He nodded his head, which was enough for her to say;

“Thank you, I’ll see you all tomorrow then.”

She then shot a look of frustration at me as she turned around and walked away. I turned to my left to face our friend and told him, with a sly tone in my voice, of a certain revelation that he had just delivered to us;

“So, you can talk.”

He looked back at me for a moment with a truly nervous look on his face before looking away while whistling in an attempt to avoid the topic altogether. Out of respect and gratitude to him, I let the kid have this. My thoughts then focused on what was coming, for I knew at that point that the next day was going to be a fun one.

            I arrived at Stephanie’s house at the appointed time, with my mom providing me transportation. She had no problem with me paying a friend a visit, and when I told my parents about Jimmy being a jerk and the upcoming game, they saw it as a fun opportunity to give a bully what was coming to him: embarrassment. I could not bring myself to tell her or dad about what Jimmy had done to me specifically, however. I was afraid of what they could have said or done if I did, and you can thank him for that. When I walked up to Steph’s white front door, I turned around to see if our friend of very few words had arrived yet. I could not see him anywhere, so I figured that he was on his way over. So, I turned back to the door, knocked three times, and waited. After three seconds, it was opened up by a tall adult with skin that had the same tone as Stephanie’s, short black hair that was recently cut, a pair of glasses, a red shirt with a yellow baseball bat drawn on its front, brown pants, and black slip-on shoes. This man was, and still is, Stephanie’s father. He looked down at me and was quick to recognize who I was as he moved off the right side of the doorway to welcome me in while giving a polite, cheerful greeting;

“It’s good to see you again, Vinny. Come on in!”

Before I could do so, however, we both heard the not-so-subtle sound of a truck coming down the street from the west. I turned around to see it coming in from my left side. It was a light blue flat-bed truck that was clearly cared for, with little to no wear and tear to be found anywhere on it, black tinted windows that kept me from seeing inside of it, and an engine that purred like a kitten. The truck stopped directly in front of the walkway that led to the house’s front door. Its passenger door opened up to reveal our friend as he carefully walked down its steps and onto the walkway while holding a baseball bat in his right hand. I smiled at the sight, happy to see that he was ready to practice. He walked towards us as the truck moved down the road and out of the sight and hearing. He stopped mere inches from the door as he looked at each of us with a polite smile on his face. I turned back to face Steph’s dad and introduced him to my friend;

“This little guy has been good to your daughter and me. I hope you don’t mind him visiting too.”

“I don’t mind at all,”, he said to me with a smile as his gaze turned to him as he spoke;

“Stephanie has told me about you, and it's hard to miss that cool hat of yours.”

The kid giggled a little while holding his yellow hat with his right hand for a moment as the grown-up then explained;

“You, like Vinny, are welcome in our home, for a friend of Stephanie’s is a friend of mine.”

He then motioned with his right hand and arm for the two of us to come into the house. We did so, with me leading us on.

            The doorway led into a rather cozy living room, which was equipped with a brown sofa that had a blanket resting on its three cushions, a lovingly decorated carpet in the center of the room that depicted the image of flowers aplenty, and two large reclining chairs positioned at the far sides of the carpet, at the left and right sides of the sofa specifically. These chairs were aimed at each other, with a battery-powered clock above the one at the far-right side on one of the walls, all of which were painted brown. There was no TV in the living room of the Morgan household. From all of the times that I had visited the house, I learned that this room was meant to be a quiet, peaceful place. Stephanie and her dad preferred to watch TV together in the kitchen, which was beyond the brown door to the far-left side of the room. As I admired the beauty of the place, I saw the little boy walk past me while looking around with amazement in his eyes, as if he had never seen a house like this before in his life. I left him to explore for a bit while I checked on the dad, who had just closed the door behind me and locked it tight. I then decided to ask him;

“So, how is Steph doing today?”

“Better than yesterday, I am sure.”, he noted while looking away, at a bit of the floor on his left side. His tone was more solemn than earlier as he spoke;

“She… told me what Jimmy had done to her, to you, and to those other kids.”

He looked back at me as he continued;

“It saddens me that someone would dare to be so cruel to children, and get away with it too. If you ever want someone to talk to, you can talk with me, okay.”

This was something that I was needing ever since my problems with Jimmy began; an adult not only believing that he had done wrong, but also offering me, one of that jerk’s targets, support. The Gooch, understandably, needed a moment to keep himself from crying before saying in a shaky, yet happy tone;

“T-the Gooch appreciates that!”

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps came from beyond the kitchen door. Two knocks were heard from the other side of it, which had gotten everyone's attention. The dad walked ahead of us over to the door, knocked twice back, and asked;

“Are you ready dear?”

“Yes…”, said Stephanie, who was whimpering a little from behind the door.

“It's okay, darling.”, said her father in a soothing tone that only a loving parent could use when speaking to their child;

“We are all here for you, take your time.”

He was not wrong about that, in my mind at least. The three of us looked at the door, waiting for her to come out. Our little friend had no idea what was coming, but I certainly suspected that something was up. I asked the father while keeping my eyes on the door;

“So, what’s going on with Steph?”

“Just watch, Vinny.”, was all I could get from him, complete with a calm tone that was rich with anticipation.

The door then slowly opened with a loud creaking sound, revealing a sight that never got old for me every time I saw it. The knocking from earlier distracted me long enough for me to calm down, but this… this put a smile on my face as I exclaimed in pride;

“Oh yes!”

The three of us saw Stephanie wearing her personal baseball playing regalia, an outfit that until now, only her father, yours truly, and one other friend of hers had seen her wear: A large red baseball cap that covered her ears and most of her hair except for a fluffy chunk of it that was poking out from behind her head, a light blue over-shirt with a red undershirt that could be seen sticking out from the sleeves and above the over-shirt's collar, a pair of light blue sports gloves with square dark blue cushiony parts in the middle of each glove, light blue shorts that reached below the knees, and a pair of white sports sneakers. Simply put, this young lady was dressed to play ball! Her face, however, showed that she was not quite ready yet, as it was oozing with fear. She was looking not at her dad or me, but at our little friend, who was looking back at her with even more amazement in his eyes than ever. She then slowly asked in a frightened stutter;

“D-d-do you… l-l-l-like the outfit?”

His response was a simple one; he showed off that big smile that could soothe anyone’s tension with ease while giving her a genuine thumbs up with his right hand. This was enough to get to her smile in relief at not being rejected. She looked at each of us and explained herself to us, this time without the stutter;

“Even before Jimmy started bullying me, I… did not like the idea of telling people about this, about what I like, because I was afraid of them calling me stupid or some other insulting name over it. Jimmy being so mean to me made me work harder to hide this from people, except for my father, and the few friends that I have.”

She looked at me with a small, but sweet smile as she continued;

“That’s because, unlike dummies like him, my friends won’t hurt me over what I like, and I think of you as my friend too.”

She looked back over to the little boy as she said this, her smile still present as she spoke;

“Thank you for being good to me, to us. I know I said this before, but please don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

He nodded his head, his calming smile refusing to vanish. Silence crept into the room for a few seconds, which gave me the chance to ask Stephanie a question that I have been aching to ask her ever since I walked into the house;

“So then, what do you know about Baseball?”

            She took a deep breath to collect herself and her thoughts and the answered in a slow, calm tone;

“Well… if you must know…”

She then took another deep breath as I braced myself for what was going to happen next.

“Here it comes.”, I declared in excited anticipation as Stephanie expressed herself in a way that was truly hers. She started speaking slowly and picked up the pace as she went along.

“I know every official rule on how to play Baseball, the names of every single team that has ever existed in the major, minor, and little leagues, the names and locations of every single venue that has ever hosted a Baseball match as well as how many of those venues still exist today,”.

At this point, she was explaining what she knew about the sport at rapid speed, and yet, I could still make out what she was saying as she continued her enjoyable rant;

“the histories of every single major league player who has ever been proven to have cheated at the professional level, their postcards I use for pitching practice by the way, every single instance of racism and sexism that has ever occurred in all of the current leagues,”.

By the time she had reached that point in her explanation, she was pacing left and right in front of us. I paid her close attention as a show of support. That, and learning about Baseball from her was always fun and interesting to the Gooch. No, she was not done ranting yet;

“seriously, that crud needs to stop! I also know how much money each major league team makes per-season, the pitch stance that every professional player uses on television, and-!”.

Now, I figured, was a good time to get her to quit yappin’ by gently telling her aloud;

“Steph! Give yourself a chance to breathe!”

Thankfully, my words got her attention, so she responded by taking a moment to breathe, looking right at me, and saying in a soft tone;

“Sorry about that. Once I start talking about my favorite sport ever, I don’t shut up right away.”

She laughed for a moment, clearly finding her behavior to be funny in a harmless way. I looked over at the little guy and as it turns out, he was paying close attention to her as well. He was even holding his chin with his right hand to show that he was thinking about what she had said. I took the smile on his face as a sign that he was not annoyed by her ranting at all, which was good enough for the Gooch. A thought had then crossed my mind, which prompted me to ask her;

“You mentioned your friends, I saw one of yours a few days ago. She was talking to you about Jimmy, what happened to her?”

A frown appeared on her face as she responded in a calm, lower tone;

“She did not want to risk being bullied by him, so she stopping coming to the playground.”

A smile replaced that frown as she also noted;

“We still talk on the phone though, and boy was she happy to hear about what our friend has been doing to give Jimmy a hard time.”

“Yeah, I haven’t seen Reese in the playground either, ever since his run-in with that jerk.”, I explained, hoping that she might shine some light on that subject.

She calmly did, her frown coming back with gusto;

“Yeah, I’ve been talking with him on the phone too, along with the other kids that were bullied. None of them want to go near that place until Jimmy is gone, and I can’t blame them. Heck, I haven’t seen or heard from that sweet little girl that you talked about before.”

“Oh, darn it, I wanted to hug her for being so helpful!”, I explained with a disappointed tone;

“The Gooch is thinking that she may have had the same idea as the other kids.”

Stephanie then sighed and declared aloud with surety;

“Now we got more reason than ever to put this nightmare to an end. Not just to stop a bully, but also to make our favorite playground a safe place for kids again.”

Her father chimed in politely;

“My daughter here explained to me the game that is coming up and I agree, this Jimmy Knuckles can’t be allowed to run rampant in that playground or anywhere else. I see this game as an opportunity to teach him a lesson in humility.”

He looked at her with a serious and understanding expression as he spoke to her directly in a father tone;

“I am proud of you for opening up about what has been happening, and I will do what I can to help you and your friends put this problem to bed. I know you made it clear to me that no adult can be seen by him during the match. But once it is over and he walks out of that stadium, I will be right there waiting for him at the exit, and he will not like what I have to say. He won’t see or hear me until it’s too late for him, I promise.”

Stephanie could not help but smile over his words as she hugged him while exclaiming aloud out of joy;

“Thank you, Dad!”

“Of course, my dear,”, he responded in a loving tone while accepting her hug with a smile.

He then gasped before expressing in shock;

“Oh, goodness, where are my manners? All this excitement has distracted me from introducing myself to our new friend!”

Steph carefully released her grip on her dad as he stood up to walk over to the little guy and declare politely with a smile;

“My name is Gregory Morgan, but you can call me Greg.”

Our friend nodded with a smile as Greg turned around to look at Stephanie and me as he spoke once more, with a quick wink to his daughter as he finished speaking;

“Now then, I believe that its time that we get you all to the practice spot.”

“Sounds good, dad.”, Stephanie sad in agreement as she walked back to the kitchen door. She then turned to look at each of us with a smile on her face and said in a tone that had a hint of excitement that was slowly building up within her;

“Come on guys, I know the perfect spot!”

Chapter Text

            We got into the Morgan family minivan and rode on out to our destination. Carefully stashed inside the back of the van was a whole assortment of bats, gloves, white base diamonds, and baseballs, all neatly stored in three large sturdy plastic boxes. Along the way, Stephanie explained to us that this place that we were going to was an old sandlot where she could practice her Baseball playing skills safely, far from prying eyes and ears. This was far from being a “regulation field” as she put it, but it was the best place where she could teach our friend how to hit homeruns without Jimmy being able to spy on us. She usually went there on days when no one was expecting her, particularly weekends. Back then, as far as we all knew, she was the only one, other than her father, who knew of the place as far as she knew. Not even the Gooch knew of it, since it was her private space in her eyes. So, for us boys to learn of that space from her was an honor in my mind. She also made it clear that her admitting to us that this place even existed adds to the seriousness of what we were going to do, so it was important that our little friend did his best to figure out how hitting homeruns worked. We all understood her wholeheartedly, for everyone in that van wanted to get Jimmy to stop his bullying for good.

            It took about an hour, but we had arrived at the sandlot. From what I could tell by looking through the minivan’s window, it certainly looked the part, with sand covering the ground throughout the whole place. Erected along the borders of the property were tall wooden fences that were painted green and surrounded the entire area, except for an opening that served as the entrance and exit. It was a large lot too, with enough space to make it a halfway decent Baseball field. Sure, it had no bases, baselines, or even a pitcher’s mound, but it was something that we could work with. Beyond the fences, I could see a dense forest standing ominously from behind them, surrounding the lot itself. The one road that we took to get here was the only way in and out of the area, which stopped right in front of the gap in the fences. The forest extended out beyond the lot to follow the road from both sides for about a mile. It was Summer time, so the trees were covered with plenty of green leaves. One tree stood out from the others as the tallest one in the forest, towering over the lot from behind the center field portion of the fence with its many leaves and thick branches held by one seriously thick trunk. I had never seen a tree that big before in my life, in books maybe, but not in person.

“That is one tall tree.”, I remarked in awe of its beauty and size as I got out of the van.

“A lovely sight too.”, noted Stephanie, who was not too far behind me as she spoke;

“I climbed up to the top of it once.”

“Really?!”, I exclaimed, surprised that she would actually do something that dangerous.

“Yeah, the view was amazing, but the hardest part was getting back down.”, she explained in a nostalgic tone.

We then looked over at our little friend, who was the first to exit the van. He was staring at the tall tree as if he were daydreaming. Steph then asked him seriously;

“Are you ready for this, friend?”

Her question brought him back to Earth, for he shook his head, turned around to face her, and raised his bat, which he was carrying in his right hand this whole time, to show that he was, in fact, ready. This pleased Stephanie, for she then joyfully announced to all of us with a smile, even as her dad was trying to bring out the boxes that held the Baseball gear;

“Good, then let’s begin!”

With that, the little boy’s seven days of training began.

            My pal Stephanie demonstrated to our friend just how much she knew about Baseball during training. Each day, she would carefully place each of the base diamonds on certain spots throughout the sandlot so that 1^st base was situated near the right corner, 3rd base near the left corner, 2^nd base near center field, thus lining up with that really tall tree standing proudly over it from behind, and Homeplate positioned a few inches to the left of the opening. Before doing any of this, however, she made it a point to bring a measuring stick with her on the first day, just so that she could accurately measure the distance between each base. Her goal, in her own words, was to; “put the bases in just the right spots, so that our trainee can practice in an area that resembles a baseball field as closely as possible.”. A bit overkill, if you ask the Gooch, but she had a good reason behind her seemingly strange actions. As she performed her measurements, she explained to us that the old stadium that our friend was going to face Jimmy at used to hold high-profile baseball matches from both the Minor and Major Leagues. But due to lackluster sales that resulted from a combination of declining building conditions, incompetent management, and an embezzling scandal that ruined the owner’s reputation, the stadium was closed down a year before our troubles with Jimmy began. Since the last sporting event that it hosted before closing was a baseball game, Steph suspected that the field was still there, bases and fencing included. Her line of thinking was that by training our friend on a field similar in look and shape to the one in the stadium, he may not feel so nervous when it comes time to play ball, since playing in a familiar area might calm him down a bit. The Gooch liked that idea, as anything that could help our friend beat Jimmy, except for cheating, was alright with me. But there was a problem that not even Stephanie could solve; the sizes of the two fields. According to her, the stadium’s field was made with professional players in mind, not little kids like us. Putting it bluntly, it was larger than the entire sandlot, which meant that our friend would have to hit the ball farther down that field in order to get a homerun. Luckily, as she pointed out to us after finishing with placing the bases for the first time, this problem went both ways, for Jimmy was going to have to contend with hitting balls in a Major League field too. But she was worried that he was practicing with that in mind, so she made it clear to us from the start that our friend was going to have to work his little butt off in order to have a chance at winning the game! Thankfully for him, he had the biggest Baseball enthusiast in town as his teacher, and she was going to put her extensive knowledge to good use for his sake.

            Stephanie taught him everything she knew about hitting a baseball; how to properly hold the bat with both hands, which side of Homeplate to swing from (he was right-handed, so he decided to swing from the left side), timing his swing with when the ball comes at him, aiming his swing where the ball is going to be, the different pitches to look out for, you name it, she taught it. With help from her father’s guidance and some friendly encouragement from the Gooch, she made sure to teach him at a pace that allowed him to understand what she was getting at. It helped quite a bit that, as we would quickly learn, our friend was quite the fast learner. We discovered this during the first day of training, when Stephanie explained to him the basic rules of hitting homeruns after she had finished placing the bases on their proper spots;

“Homeruns can only be earned when you hit a ball over the fence down left, right, or center-field.”

She told this to him while kneeling down on one knee to speak at his level while pointing at each direction she mentioned to him with her right index finger. She then further noted;

“If the ball goes too far to the left or to the right, then it is a foul ball.”

She then looked right at him, who nodded his head to show that he understood her so far. At that point, she made a key detail clear to him;

“Anything less than a homerun won’t be counted as a score in a Homerun Derby, so when the time comes, you bring your A-game to that stadium, got it?”

He nodded his head again in agreement, to which Stephanie responded by standing back up and requesting to him;

“Show me your best swing, no holding back.”

She then walked over to her father’s right side, with me on the her right. We were standing an inch or two in front of the fence near the 3^rd base line. We watched as our friend stood next to Homeplate, raised his bat with both hands, bent his knees down just as Stephanie had demonstrated to him, and took a swing that looked positively mean looking in terms of force. I noticed that about mid-way through his swing, he released the bat from his right hand so that his left hand could finish the job. Stephanie had noticed this too, for she walked back over to him and told him;

“You got a strong swing in those arms, but I saw what you were doing with your hands and it fascinated me.”

He raised his right eyebrow in confusion as Steph explained to him in that calm, quick pace that she normally uses when talking about Baseball related stuff;

“Typically, Baseball players swing their bats while they hold onto the batting handle with both hands during the entirety of the swing. You, on the other hand, start with both hands, but then you let go of the handle with the right hand at the half-way point, which allows your left hand to finish the swing on its own.”

Her explanation made the rest of us very quiet, whether it be to let the conversation run its course, or in our friend’s case, due to being visibly taken aback by what he had just heard. He gave off a worried look that Steph had noticed, which prompted her to smile gently as she noted sweetly;

“Eh, you got nothing to worry about, as long you are hitting homeruns and your swing is comfortable for you, of course.”

Her words clearly calmed the boy’s nerves, for he responded with a smile and another nod. Steph then asked him politely while reaching out for his bat with her right hand;

“May I use your bat for a moment?”

He quickly handed it over to her with his right hand, allowing her to grab it. She held the bat’s handle with both hands and pointed the tip straight up to the sky while holding the bat up to her face as she explained;

“Not every player swings their bat in the exact same way, you see. So, while there are clear rules in place regarding stances and swinging in general, there is some wiggle room left for making a swing...”

Without warning, she turned her whole body so that her left side was facing the right-side fence, her back facing our friend. She then bent her knees forward slightly and positioned the bat so that she held it from behind her head, its tip still pointing at the clear blue sky above her head. Steph waited for one second and swiftly swung the bat through the air with strength and surety. She mostly used both hands to perform the swing. She released her right hand’s grip on the handle, like how the boy did it, only she did so near the end of the motion instead of half-way through it. She turned back around to face our friend right after swinging and handed the bat back over to him with her right hand as she finished with a confident smile;

“your own.”

His response was a combination of supportive clapping and soft laughter, for which Stephanie was obviously grateful as she replied with a tiny hint of a slightly inflated ego in her voice;

“Thank you, thank you. Now then, let’s see how your swing handles hitting actual balls.”

            He quickly took his bat back from her and ran back to Homeplate in response to her words as Steph walked over to the box where the baseballs were stored, in front of the minivan’s closed backdoor. She then bent over to grab one from the pile and moved over to the nearby bucket to the right of the box that held the catcher’s mitts. After grabbing one and putting it on her left hand, she ran all the way over to the spot where the pitcher’s mound would be; right in front of Homeplate while in the middle of the diamond shape that the four bases created. Steph held her ball in both hands as she raised them up to the right side of her face. She then yelled over to her trainee, who was already in his batting stance;

“Okay, I am going to start you off with a Slowball! Be ready for it!”

He stood as still as a statue and as quiet as a mouse, which was proof enough for her that he was ready. Steph stood in place for a moment and performed her motions, the same ones that every Major League player performs on television, to throw the ball out from her right hand. The pitch was, just as she had warned him, a well thrown Slowball. The boy watched that ball move through the air at a slow and steady pace, waiting patiently for the right moment while looking for the right spot to swing at. His breath was steady, his form stable. Before long, the ball had arrived at its destination; off to his middle-right side, but still within reach of his bat. At the precise moment when the ball was almost above the plate, he swung in the exact same way as before with all of his strength poured into it, hitting the ball with a mighty crack from the impact between it and the bat! He sent that ball flying down center field at breakneck speed and higher than any of us had ever anticipated. It was so high, in fact, that it flew over the center-field fence and deep into the forest beyond! Needless to say, our friend’s first hit became a homerun, an achievement that left the Gooch speechless. Stephanie was speechless too as she moved her head to follow the ball’s journey into the forest in stunned silence. I had no idea how Greg was reacting, because I was too shocked to move my body an inch. Our friend, however, was jumping up and down from Homeplate repeatedly while raising his bat up to the sky, laughing in celebration of his success.

            Steph was the first of us to calm down enough to speak, for she turned back around to face her student and yell over to him, her shock making it challenging for her to get her words to come out of her mouth;

“O-okay… very good, friend! How about… you try hitting… a Heat?!”

He stopped celebrating upon hearing her request so that he could get back into his stance quickly. Stephanie ran back to the ball box to grab another one before returning to her pitching spot. The Gooch guesses that she did not want to deal with looking for the one that just got sent flying through the trees. I certainly did not want to go hunting for it either, as I did not want to get lost in the woods. Once they were both ready, she took a deep breath, took her pitching stance and threw the ball just like before, only with much more power added in. This resulted in her throwing a pitch that traveled at a much faster pace than the last one did, which gave our friend less time to see where it was going to go, let alone get the timing of his swing down. With a steady breath and a stable form, he waited until he saw that it was coming in somewhat at his upper-left side. Harder to hit, especially with it moving so fast, but that kid went for it anyway. He swung his bat right when the ball was above the plate, smacking it with another vicious crack. This time, that sucker took a long flight down right field, careening over the fence without going far enough to the right to become a foul ball. That marked the second homerun that our friend had earned, two in a roll to be exact! I was shocked again, but this time, I could bring myself to cheer in support of the kid over what he had just done by shouting in glee;

“The Gooch likes that! YEAH, give me some more of that!”

Once again, Stephanie could only watch the ball make its way over the fence in awe over what had just happened. Once the ball had bounced onto the ground just short of the forest beyond the sandlot, she did not move another inch for a whole five seconds before running over to the kid while yelling;

“Time out!”

She stopped to stand in front him and looked him in the eye as she asked;

“Did you ever hit a baseball before coming here?”

He quickly shook his head to quietly tell her no. I could tell from where I was standing that she was utterly shocked by his answer, for she took two more seconds to silently compose herself before telling him in a voice that was shaky as heck;

“Y-you mind if I…. talk with Vinny and dad for a moment while you practice your swing?”

The big smile that he showed her was evidence enough to her that he was fine with the idea. She walked over to the two of us while the kid started swinging his bat repeatedly. She then whispered to us in a voice that was filled with shock, nervousness, and a dash of slowly building excitement;

“This kid… I know its too early to tell, but… this kid is like a young Babe Ruth!”

            “Maybe it is simple beginner’s luck,” her father calmly suggested.

“Luck had nothin’ to do with it.”, I noted excitedly as I went on to explain myself;

“As far as the Gooch is concerned, that kid is good!”

I watched Stephanie as she pondered to herself in silence while holding her chin with her right index finger and thumb. After roughly five seconds of thought, she noted to the both of us;

“Hmmm… I’ll have to double-check, just to be sure…”

Without another word, she turned around to walk back over to our friend, who was still swinging his bat repeatedly, to tell him with surety and a hint of a teacher’s authority;

“Alright, let’s see how you handle Hooks.”

He returned to his batting stance without hesitation as she grabbed a third baseball and made her way over to her pitching position. After taking a second to breathe, she wound up and threw the ball. Instead of it coming at the kid straight, the ball moved over to his left in a curve as it traveled towards Homeplate. It was a Left Hook that made its way over to the plate’s left side in a speed that was not as fast as the Heat, yet it was faster than a Slowball. It managed to fly above the plate from that side before the kid took a mean swing at it with another powerful crack. This time, however, it flew down center field, over Steph’s head by a few feet, hitting the fence with a strong thud and bouncing onto the ground instead of going out of the park. A solid hit, to be sure, but no homerun this time.

            Our friend did not celebrate that hit, but to the Gooch, he did not look too upset about it, as he quickly went back into his stance to ready himself for the next pitch without a single complaint. Stephanie, like before, had watched the ball as it traveled down center field, as she turned back to face him, she then wound up again and threw another Hook, this one curving over to the right side instead of the left. This Right Hook moved at the same speed as its counterpart towards him. He managed to hit it with gusto as it flew just above the plate, sending it careening over to the right field fence. The ball bounced off the fence with another strong thud as it landed on the ground below. Another fair hit, but not a homerun. As the kid repositioned himself yet again, Stephanie walked over to him while motioning to her father and me with her right hand to come over to them. We did exactly that, with the Gooch thinking that what she was going to say had to be important. Once we all grouped up around our friend, she explained to him with calm surety;

“I get it now. You can hit straight pitches over the fences with ease. But, while you can send Hooks flying down field easily enough, belting them out of the park is a bit more challenging for you.”

The boy’s response was simple and to the point. He raised his bat with his right hand to point its tip over the center field fence. He then aimed it over the fences on right field and left field respectively. We all knew exactly what he was trying to get at; he wanted to keep practicing until he could consistently hit homeruns in each of those directions. Stephanie, with enthusiasm in her smile and determination in her voice, announced to him in response;

“Clearly, you want to get seriously good at hitting homers, so I’m going to throw everything I got at you each day, understand?”

He lowered his bat as he looked over at her and nodded his head in agreement. I could see fire in his eyes that was balanced by his gentle, yet confident smile. From that point on, Stephanie Morgan would put him through his paces and then some!

            Stephanie had that kid practice from noon until the evening during that week. She would have trained him until midnight, were it not for her father making it a point to reign her in. During the first two practice days, she would start him off by throwing a few pitches while announcing to him what each one was going to be before doing so. Once day three came along, however, she would start to throw pitches without giving a single hint as to what they could be. The idea was to encourage the kid to keep his eyes on the ball in order to guess what a pitch was going to be, where it was going, and when to hit it. No pitch will ever be announced to a batter in a real Homerun Derby match, or an actual Baseball match for that matter. So, being able to figure out what pitch could be coming at him on the fly was a good lesson for the kid to learn. As we would soon figure out, he was a quick study, for he was able to accurately guess each type of pitch that Steph had decided to throw at him by the time that day four had arrived. As the days came and went, his batting skills improved at a pace that neither Stephanie, her father Greg, nor the Gooch could have expected. At day one, he could hit straight pitches out the park without any trouble at all. But at day five, he could hit every type of pitch that Steph could dish out. It was during day six when he had shown how far he had come, for that little boy with the yellow hat was hitting nothing but homeruns!

            After the final practice session was done and over with, at about one hour away from the appointed match time, Stephanie, the kid, and yours truly rode the mini-van to the stadium, with her father driving us safely. Stephanie, it turns out, had been holding most of her hair under baseball cap, but for this night, she decided to let the hair on the back of her head come out, including her bushy ponytail, which reached down to her neck. Oh, we were excited as heck as the evening drew closer, for at that point, we truly believed that our friend could out-hit Jimmy any day of the week. Stephanie herself just could not help but brag about how good her student had become at hitting homers as she excitedly declared;

“That poor Jimmy Knuckles has no idea what he is getting himself into! I mean, the first kid to stand against him without getting hurt by him just so happens to be an incredibly talented batter, and he challenged him to a Homerun-Derby match! I thought I was calling it early back when we started out, but now I know without a doubt that this kid is a young Babe Ruth!”

            Our friend raised his right eyebrow to express his confusion over what he had heard. Noticing this, she asked him;

“You don’t know who Babe Ruth is?”

He shook his head to say no, which prompted her to gasp out of shock. The Gooch knew exactly what was coming, so I calmly gave him a fair warning;

“Brace yourself, kid, because she is about to throw some Baseball history in your direction.”

Stephanie took a deep breath, exhaled, and did exactly what I said she would do;

“Babe Ruth was one of the greatest batters in the Major Leagues during his time! He may not have had formal batting training, but he was able to hit homeruns left, right, and center! He was so good, in fact, that he was able to out-hit his fellow Major League players and set new batting records that are still talked about to this day! Heck, he even broke some of his own records a few times! Mind you, those records were set during a time when black men could not compete due to the color barrier that was held up by racism, but that does not change the fact that he was darn good at swinging the lumber!”

The kid’s eyes lit up as he looked closely at Steph, clearly interested in what she was saying. As for the Gooch, while I was also interested in Baseball lore, after spending seven days helping the city of Glint’s biggest Baseball enthusiast train our friend, I definitely needed a break from her yappin’. So, I decidedly to gently tell her with a cool smile on my face before she dropped more info onto his lap;

“That will do, Steph. That will do.”

She stopped talking to look at me nervously for a moment before beginning to laugh in a hearty, genuine fashion. The kid and the Gooch joined in on the laughter, as we all found it both funny, and cool, that Stephanie blabs about her favorite sport so much that sometimes, she needs someone to get her to put a clamp on it. Right when we calmed down, an idea popped into my head, one that was too awesome to not mention as I looked Steph in the eye and spoke up excitedly;

“Since Jimmy doesn’t know a darn thing about our friend here being so good at what he does, you could say that he is our secret weapon!”

I turned silent the moment I had finished my sentence, for I had realized, at that precise moment, just how cool my idea was. Thus, I could not bring myself to say anything more about it, as I did not want to risk ruining it with a bad explanation. Steph looked back at me with a surprised look on her face. She quickly shut her eyes while lowering her head down slightly to think on what I had just said. I moved my eyes to see that our friend was turning his head repeatedly to look at each of us, while he himself appeared to be curious as to what was going to happen next. No one said a word for five seconds before Stephanie raised her head back up, opened her eyes, and expressed a small smile on her face as she calmly uttered;

“Hmmm… The Secret Weapon… that sounds like a cool nickname.”

She looked over at our friend, who was looking back at her, and asked him politely;

“Do you like it?”

He gently held his chin with his right hand as he silently pondered for another five seconds before nodding his head with a noticeable spark in his eyes. The kind of spark that, from what I would learn from my parents later, only shows in a person’s eyes when they are feeling especially happy. At that moment, I did not know what seeing his eyes light up like that meant exactly, but I could guess from his nodding alone that he liked the nickname. Steph noticed this too, for she responded by clearly declaring, with that smile from before still etched on her face;

“Okay then, The Secret Weapon it is.”

“Now don’t you forget, Steph,”, I mentioned to her right then and there in a calm tone as I quickly pointed my right index finger directly at her. My goal was to lightly tease her as I continued;

“I came up with that name first, you hear?”

I made sure to wink at her to let her know that I was not being too serious about it. Yeah, I did coin the nickname, but I was not going to be a hard-butt over it. Thankfully for the Gooch, Stephanie recognized what the wink meant and responded with a soft chuckle and a wink of her own. That girl knew me so well, let me tell you. The Secret Weapon himself chuckled a little along with her, although I could not figure out back then if he knew whether or not I was teasing. It took us about forty-five minutes of driving, but we had reached our destination, the venue for our friend’s match with our bully; the abandoned Towerwood Stadium.

            Just from looking out the mini-van’s windows, we could easily see that the main circular building that held the Stadium together towered over all of us as Greg maneuvered the vehicle through the empty parking lot that was positioned near the front entrance. The building itself was painted with a very light shade of brown, with its roof given a deep blue coat. The paint had almost faded out completely, with bits of it peeling off of many parts of the wall. The roof’s deep blue coat lost its vibrance to the elements long ago, now it’s more of a subtle shade these days. Resting high above the tall doors on the front wall were faded markings that made it clear that the stadium’s logo used to hang on that spot. When the Gooch looked more closely, he could see that the markings were depicting what would have been the logo’s shape. My guess is that it was either pulled off the wall, or it fell off, after the stadium was abandoned. The doors themselves were wide open and were built with large windows so that one could see inside the property from the outside. It was a very good thing that those windows were never broken, because dealing with glass shards is never a safe thing to do.

            The mini-van slowed right down and stopped at the edge of the parking lot, as close to the entrance as Greg could possibly take it without driving off of the lot itself. The right side of the vehicle, the one that held the passenger doors, was facing the entrance. The Gooch, Stephanie, and our bat-wielding friend opened our doors and walked out onto the cement one at a time, leaving her father, who was sitting in the driver’s seat. We then walked over to his door, which prompted him to lower his window so that we could speak with him. Without hesitation, he spoke to us in a serious tone with a whisper, so that only we could hear him;

“Now kids, according to my phone,”

He pulled out his black smartphone to look at its clock before finishing;

“We have about fifteen minutes before the match begins. So, I’m going to hide the van and make myself scarce before Jimmy shows up.”

He put his phone away and looked over at Stephanie with a look of genuine fatherly love as he continued;

“Don’t you worry about a thing, dear. I’ll be close enough to the action to hear you all, and see you if I need to. Your bully, however, won’t catch me until I catch him after the match, and he won’t like what happens next.”

He gave her a sly wink with his right eye as he finished that last sentence, which prompted her to grin in relief over having her father around to back us up this time. He then turned his attention over to the Gooch and said to me politely;

“You had better be good to my daughter and her friend, understand?”

“Easiest thing in the world for the Gooch, Mr. Morgan.”, I proudly uttered, while making sure to keep my voice down as well, just to be safe.

Greg smiled as he then aimed his head to face our friend and told him in that same polite tone;

“Make sure that you put a big, fat L on that disrespectful teenager’s win-loss record, okay?”

It was The Secret Weapon’s turn to smile brightly as he gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up in acknowledgement of his request. Steph’s father then raised the driver door’s window back up, which was our cue to take a few steps back to make room for the mini-van as it began to move in reverse. It went on to turn to its left as it moved backward, with it stopping to face its left side soon after. It then moved forward whilst turning more to its left until it was going back the way it came. We watched the vehicle move farther and father away from us for a moment or two before we turned around to face the stadium’s front entrance. We stared at it in silence for one minute before I decided to be the first of us to walk over to the doors while announcing with confidence in my voice and my head;

“Well, Jimmy won’t kick his own butt, now will he?”

With that, the three of us walked into the stadium, none of us having any idea just how important the events that were to happen would be to our futures.

            It took us about a minute to reach the baseball field via one of its dark tunnels, and goodness, to say it was a mess was a huge understatement! The field itself mostly looked the part; it had green grass on the outfield and around infield. Brown dirt covered the infield itself, with its old and dirt-riddled base diamonds having been left on their spots, possibly since the day the building was closed down. The paint for the baselines and the foul lines had vanished from sight long ago. Two large rectangular dugouts were standing behind where the left and right foul lines would have been, one on each side. The insides of each dugout were dug a bit of a ways into the ground, hence their name. The pitcher’s mound was still present as well. Unlike the makeshift one back at The Sandlot, this spot was an actual mound that was carefully raised up from the ground to give pitchers something to stand on. Normally, there would be a small white line painted on top of the mound, but that too had faded away over time. The grass, with no one to trim it regularly, had grown tall enough to stand high over the bases through size alone, up to half-way to my knees actually. The black covers that once protected the tall barricades that stood over left, right, and center field were visibly ripped off of numerous spots, revealing the metal exterior underneath. I could barely make out some of the advertisements that were still printed on the covers, even though they too were ripped in places. The audience seats that surrounded the field from behind and above the barricades were dustier than anything the Gooch had seen in his life before that moment. The seats were divided up into sections, three sections next to each other at the outfield and three more behind Homeplate. Standing high at the left and right corners of the outfield were tall yellow foul posts that almost reached the ceiling, each post setting next to the seats while being perfectly aligned with where the foul lines would have been. I looked over and up to see that the giant monitor that stood head and shoulders above the seats at center field had a black screen, a clear sign that it was not active. I looked over to the right of the monitor to see that the scoreboard, which was hanging next to it, was also inactive, with its dark green paint peeling off of certain places, particularly where the words ‘Home’ and ‘Away’ would be. The ceiling hung over the monitor, the scoreboard, and the audience seats, but it reached no further than that, effectively opening the field to the elements. The large light fixtures that hung from the ceiling were completely powerless. There was nothing else for it; according to the Gooch, this place looked like Baseball ruins, the old remains of a once beautiful and vibrant place where America’s favorite game was played to the amazement of the fans who came here during its life. Now, it was abandoned and barely remembered, a terrible waste in the Gooch’s mind.

            Apparently, Steph was thinking the same thing. She, alongside our friend, had caught up to me from behind and looked at our surroundings with a dejected expression on her face. After three minutes of silence, she then looked over at me and explained in a solemn voice;

“It’s always a shame to see perfectly good stadiums being left to fall apart like this. They hold plenty of memories for a lot of people, after all…”

I looked over at her and nodded my head in agreement. I then noticed that the boy was turning his body to look around the stadium while standing in place. The sad look on his face clearly told me that he was not too fond of this place’s condition either. Before we could discuss the subject any further however, we all heard an all-too-familiar voice call out to us from the tunnel that we had just used in a loud, rough, and confident tone;

“So, you found the guts to show up, eh?!”

We immediately turned around to see that The Secret Weapon’s opponent, our bully, had just walked out of the tunnel and was making his way over to us with his own bat gripped in his right hand. He was wearing a black shirt with a large red skull etched on its front, dark brown pants, black sneakers, a pair of black gloves, and that trucker hat that he seemed determined to never part with. Jimmy Knuckles had arrived, which meant to us that it was almost time to play ball.

            I instinctively walked over to Steph’s left side to stand with her while giving Jimmy the most serious glare that the Gooch could deliver. Our friend made it a point to stand between us and the big brute. As he did this, I noticed that he had tightened his grip on his bat’s batting handle, a subtle sign that The Secret Weapon was not happy to see him. I looked to my right to check to see how Steph was doing. Her chest rose and fell in a slow, deliberate pace, which revealed to me that she was breathing slowly and heavily, probably to keep herself calm while she was around the young man who bullied her before anyone else. Speaking of Jimmy, he walked up to our friend and stopped to stand in front of him, with a mere inch or two of space dividing them as they looked each in the eye in what could be best described as a doozy of a stare-down. Jimmy was smiling as he walked, but his face quickly expressed a serious look as he moved his head down to make eye-contact with the boy, who had to look straight up at him in order to do the same. I could feel the tension between those two from where I was standing and man, one could cut it with a knife, if you catch my meaning. The stare-down lasted for ten seconds before Jimmy became the first to speak up in a tone that oozed with bravado;

“You got fire in your eyes, runt. But, in the end,”

He chuckled softly a little before finishing;

“I will be the one who beats you.”

He then aimed his head over to Stephanie and myself before asking;

“So then, who will be our pitcher?”

Before the night of the match had arrived, the three of us had decided, after a short debate, that I would be the one to pitch. According to Steph, as much as she wanted to throw pitches down the strike-zone, she did not want Jimmy to find out that she knows a thing or two about Baseball. I could not blame her, since if he did find out, not only would he accuse her of helping our friend practice, but poor Steph would not hear the end of it from her bully. So, without a moment’s hesitation, the Gooch raised his hand to answer Jimmy’s question. This seemed to satisfy him, as he responded with a nod and a calm declaration that added a hint of excitement to his voice;

“Good, then I’ll grab my crate of baseballs and the fun can begin.”

He then ran back into the tunnel and out of sight. We stood there waiting for him for almost a whole minute before he came back with a crate filled with baseballs in hand. Seeing that we were basically ready to start, I made my way over to the pitcher’s mound as Steph decided to walk over to Jimmy. I overheard her give him a fair warning as I took my position on the mound, her voice filled with seriousness and a dash of anger;

“You better not be cheating in anyway, Jimmy, or-.”

The bully cut her off by responding with that confidence back in his voice;

“I’ll get disqualified? Please, I don’t need to cheat at swinging lumber when I am awesome at it.”

I heard him place the box on the ground with a loud thud mixed with the bouncing of many balls. He then declared loudly so that we could all hear him clearly;

“Alright kids, listen up, because I am not going to say this again!”

We all looked at him as he went on to explain the rules of our match. According to him, each batter could take a turn to try to hit homeruns. Their turn would end if they got struck out by the pitcher or if they hit the ball and it either landed in the infield or outfield three times, or it turned into a foul ball three times. Simply put, three strikes, and the batter was out. If the batter got a homerun, then they could keep hitting until they lose their turn. The match was setup to last for twelve rounds, with each batter getting one turn per-round. Whoever had the most homeruns at the end of twelfth round would win the derby. If there was a tie, then the batters would play for extra rounds until one of them earned the winning dinger. He finished off by announcing with a devious smile on his face;

“I have never lost a derby before, which makes me a champion of sorts. So, why not have the runt go first?”

I quickly aimed my eyes over at Stephanie, who had her eyes closed in thought for a moment or two before opening them back to nod in acknowledgement of the appointed rules. I did the same thing, thinking that if Steph, the Baseball expert, was okay with this, then so was the Gooch. Jimmy then grabbed a ball from the crate and threw over to me so that I could catch it.

As I caught the ball and turned around to face Homeplate, I saw our friend walk over to stand next to it so that he could swing from its left side. He then took his stance, the same one that he practiced with for a whole week, and looked right at me with that gigantic smile of his that I recognized so easily at this point. I turned my head to the left to see that Stephanie was making her way back into the tunnel. After about thirty seconds, she had moved over to the audience seats in one of the sections behind Homeplate so that she could take a seat that was situated at the front and off to my left side. As for Jimmy, he moved into the dugout to the right of Homeplate and took a seat on the bench inside. Without any further ado, I looked back over at The Secret Weapon and swore to myself as I readied myself to throw the first pitch;

“The Gooch will throw fairly tonight, for my friends’ sake.”

With that thought in mind, the Homerun-Derby match had begun.

            The Gooch will be honest; I had actually practiced my pitching on my own backyard during that long week, just to make sure that I was able to pitch when it came time to do so. Honestly, I was not too bad at it. I mean, the Gooch had seen better pitchers, but I was pretty good at it myself. My first pitch in the match was a simple Slowball that traveled slightly to the left of the strike-zone’s center. I wanted my pitches to be fair, but I was not going to make them too darn easy to hit. Adding a good amount of challenge to a match can make it fun, really. That, and the Gooch really did not want to be accused of giving The Secret Weapon easy pitches to work with all the time. Doing so would be cheating and the last thing that I wanted was to get insulted by Jimmy some more. My Slowball was one that the kid could handle, as he was able to smack that sucker clear over the center field barricade to earn himself a point. I did not have to wait long to hear Jimmy’s response, which was a loud and confident;

“Ha! Beginner’s luck, that’s what it is!”

“You have no idea just how wrong you are, big guy.”, I thought to myself as I walked over to the crate, grabbed another ball, and returned to the mound so that I could prepare to throw my second pitch.

This time, I threw a solid Heat to the strike-zone’s upper-right corner. It was clearly inside, which meant that the kid had to go for it and did not have much time to do it. Thankfully for him, he pulled off yet another homerun by sending that ball flying over the right field barricade. The score had become 2-0 in favor of our friend. Jimmy made another comment with the same tone as before;

“Not bad, not bad at all! But, once its my turn, I’ll be hitting homers like crazy!”

The third pitch was a Right Hook that I had aimed at the bottom-left corner. The kid swung for it, but his bat missed the ball by a few centimeters. Strike one. I threw a Left Hook at the same spot as before. He was able to hit the sucker, but all that he could manage that time was a line drive down left field, with the ball bouncing off of the barricade. Strike two. I decided to throw a heat at the upper-right corner. This time, he managed to send ball flying over center field. Unfortunately, the ball had landed on the grass in front of the barricade with an audible bounce. Strike three, he was out for the round. The boy looked at me for a moment before walking over to the dugout opposite of Jimmy’s with bat in hand, his smile refusing to vanish as he walked with his head tilted downward a bit to face the grass. I was feeling pretty happy for him, and who could blame the Gooch; The Secret Weapon had taken the lead right out of the gate! But it was only the beginning of the derby, and Jimmy was next up to bat.

            The big man walked out of his dugout with bat in hand and stepped up to the left side of the plate. He then tilted his bat to point the tip up to the sky as he held onto the batting handle with both hands and bent his knees slightly while raising the handle to line it up with his right shoulder. He aimed his head to give me a calm, focused glare that could pierce metal. It would be an understatement to say that the Gooch was scared by the sight that was in front of me. Even so, I took a deep breath and prepared to throw another pitch while nervously thinking to myself;

“Its okay Vinny, just keep calm, throw your pitches, and hope like heck that you don’t mess up.”

Out of terror, I didn’t put too much force into my throw, which turned the pitch into a Slowball down the middle. Easy pickings for the big guy, who effortlessly sent the ball flying down center field and out of the park with one mighty swing of his bat, causing it to bounce on the dusty audience seats. I could see his large smile all the way from the mound, which was oozing with ego-driven confidence, as he kept his eyes on me while repositioning himself to take another swing. With that, I took two more deep breaths to calm my terror down before throwing another pitch. At this point, I felt a little less afraid of him as I threw a slightly faster Slowball that I aimed at the lower-right corner of the strike-zone. Jimmy was ready for this one too, however, for he was able to fiercely smack the ball high into the air, causing it to fly over the right-field barricade and land on the steps that sat between two sections of audience seats. The score had become, much to my dismay, a 2-2 tie. After seeing that happen before my eyes, the Gooch’s fear gave way to annoyance over him getting a chance at taking the lead. So, after taking one more deep breath, I waited for him to ready himself before unleashing a high-speed Heat pitch that targeted the very left side of the strike-zone!

Jimmy, from the stunned look that he had shown on his face as the ball came hurtling towards him, did not expect me to belt out a pitch that fast at that moment. Luckily for him, however, he was able to compose himself in time to make a mean swing for it. As it turns out, he just could not hit it hard enough that time, for he could only make the ball rocket down left-field, ricochet off of the adjacent barricade, and bounce on the tall grass below three times before rolling to a stop on it. A solid hit towards the outfield, but in this match, it counted as strike one. Jimmy’s reaction to not getting the leading run consisted of a short, annoyed grunt as he moved back into position to swing again. For the Gooch, this was proof-positive that Jimmy Knuckles, the bully of eight innocent children, was not invincible, and let me tell you, seeing him fail to get a homerun gave my confidence a powerful boost that really weakened my fear of him. Driven by this confidence, I made it a point to throw a doozy of a Right Hook at the upper-left corner of the strike-zone without a doubt in my mind. Jimmy swung for the ball with gusto, only for him to send it careening down center-field before stopping on the ground, directly in front of the barricade. Strike two for him. Instead of grunting, he reacted by proudly declaring;

“No worries, I got this next pitch in the bag!”

For the next pitch, I decided to go for a Heat that was aimed squarely at the bottom of the strike-zone. I figured it was not too hard for him to hit, and I was right, for he was able bash that ball with enough force to belt it down where the right-field line used to be and over the adjacent barricade. But as we all watched it travel in the air, the Gooch saw that the ball had moved a bit too far to the right as it traveled, allowing it to pass the right side of the yellow foul post. Stephanie had noticed this from her seat as well, for she responded by calling out in a serious tone;

“Foul ball! Foul ball!”

The Gooch agreed with her observation, as the ball did indeed go too far off to the side for it to count as a run. I looked over to our friend, who was watching the events play out from his dugout with a calm demeanor on his face. I could not tell what he thought of the situation, so I turned my head to face Jimmy. He looked annoyed at first, but then he shut eyes for a moment, took a quick breath, and opened them back up as he loudly declared;

“For once Bubbles, I agree with you! I got a foul ball, which makes it strike three!”

The Gooch had initially figured that he would try to bully a run out of a foul ball, so I did not expect him to follow the rules of the match like this at all! As surprised as I was, I knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I actively chose not to say anything about it as Jimmy walked back over to his dugout while carrying his bat in his right hand one more. After he took his seat on the dugout bench, it was time for round 2, with The Secret Weapon batting first.

            The two competitors remained neck-in-neck with each other as the match dragged on. Whenever one of them took the lead, the other was quick to tie the score back up. Most of the rounds involved at least one run being earned by each batter. I did my best to pitch fairly to both of them, even though I really wanted to mess with Jimmy. There were a few times when I looked at Stephanie to see how she was doing and I could tell, even from a distance, that she was watching the match with great interest. Heck, there was that one time, during round ten I believe, when I caught her legs bouncing up and down repeatedly while she held on to both sides of her seat with her hands. Clearly, she was visibly invested in the match, anxious to see if The Secret Weapon could best our bully when no one else could! Speaking of the kid, I watched him as he showed more and more joy on his face throughout the match. Obviously, he was having a great time, in spite of the stakes involved. Eventually, we had reached round twelve, and the match could not be closer.

            The score was an incredible 15-15! Steph and the Gooch knew to expect plenty of runs from both Jimmy and our friend, but man, we did not expect so many to be belted out on that night! I made it a point to look at Jimmy from time to time throughout the proceedings, and as the runs added up, his bravado was slowly replaced with visible frustration. I could tell from the angry look that he showed on his face as round twelve had arrived that he had never been challenged like this before. If one were to ask the Gooch, the I would say that deep down, the big guy was in awe of the boy’s skill at bat, he just did not want to admit it at the time. As agreed upon, The Secret Weapon walked up to the plate to take his turn. I looked over at Jimmy in search any sign of foul play on his part. All he was doing, surprisingly, was sitting there on the bench in his dugout, as stiff as statue with his arms crossed and anger all over his face. Feeling relieved, I turned over to our friend as I prepared to start throwing pitches in his direction.

            The first pitch, a solid Heat down the middle, he had smacked towards the outfield, but the ball had landed short of the right-field barricade. Strike one. The second pitch, a Slowball off to the strike-zone’s left side, incredibly, flew past him as he swung for it and missed the ball by a few centimeters. Strike two. Oh man, the Gooch was seriously conflicted by now. I mean, on hand, I had to throw fairly to him, so that I could say that I never cheated for his sake. But on the other hand, I did not want to be the one who struck out my good friend, the first person to have ever stood up against my bully, our bully, at the precise moment when we all needed him to hit the winning run! I looked down at the ground for five seconds as I thought of the conflict that raged within my young mind. I then looked up over at him to see that throughout this entire round, his large smile that could calm anyone’s nerves refused to leave him. Seeing that smile eased my mind enough for the Gooch to make a decision that would stay with me for the rest my life; I chose to throw a challenging third pitch, a left-hook aimed at the top of the strike-zone, out of respect to my friends, because I knew that they would never, ever, want me to cheat in a sport for any reason at all. The Gooch was, and always will be, an honest person, for better and for worse.

            The kid did just as he had practiced for a whole week; he watched the ball as it moved gracefully through the air, waiting for the right moment. Stephanie, Jimmy, and myself watched in silence as it traveled closer and closer to him. Without warning, he swung the bat with all of his strength right when the ball went in close enough for him to reach it. For a moment, from my perspective, it felt like time had slowed down to a crawl to the Gooch, at the moment when the kid was in the middle of his swing, the bat being centimeters away from connecting with the ball. I know that did not actually happen in reality, but it felt like it did to me. During that brief moment, I thought to myself;

“What if he lost?”

What if our friend had worked so hard and devoted so much of his time for the sake of two friends who he hardly even knew, only to fail at the very end? That was a truly terrifying thought to the Gooch, one that, honestly, I think about sometimes to this day…

Thankfully, I did not have to think too much about it that time, as when he had hit the ball with a powerful cracking sound, he poured enough force into the swing to send the ball soaring over the center-field audience seats, eventually landing behind them! I watched that ball land with my mouth hanging wide open in shock and awe. All was silent for ten seconds before I heard Stephanie yell out a cheer that was powered by unbridled joy. Hearing this inspired me to join on the celebration with my own impassioned cheer as I jumped from the mount out of joy while turning over to face the kid with the biggest smile on my face. The Secret Weapon was in winning position! After taking a moment to recollect myself, the Gooch waited for the kid to prepare himself before throwing a solid Heat that I aimed at the bottom of the strike-zone. He swung for it, only to miss. With that third strike, Jimmy could have his turn at bat.

I looked over at big guy to find that his eyes were wide open and his skin was looking seriously pale. His arms were still crossed and his mouth was shut tight. From what I could tell, the big guy was terrified at the thought of losing to a child smaller and younger than him, which only added to my joy as I loudly told him;

“You better give it your best shot, Jimmy! Unless you are scared of the little guy!”

At this point, my fear of Jimmy was so weak, I could barely feel it under my immense happiness. I then heard Stephanie make loud chicken noises as she confidently declared;

“Chicken! Bwack-Bwack-Bwack-Bwack-Bwackaaa!”

His face went from pale white to red with rage, for a moment or two, before he shut his eyes, took three deep breaths, and opened them back up as he got up from his bench to step up to bat. I calmed myself down as we both got into our positions and our friend returned to his dugout without a peep.

“Remember Vinny…”, I calmly thought to myself as I prepared to throw my pitch;

“Throw fairly.”

            The Gooch can say with certainty that he did exactly that, even though The Gooch was once again tempted to cheat in order to make Jimmy lose. I started things off with a Heat down the middle, to remind him that I was playing fairly. He smacked that sucker down left-field, only for it to bounce off the barricade. I then threw a Right-Hook to the very right side of the strike-zone. He made that ball soar too far to the left side; a foul ball. With two strikes on him and his opponent up by one run, I could not blame Jimmy for feeling as frustrated as he looked, for his face was turning a little red again as he took his batting stance. He gave me the angriest glare that I had ever seen him give to anyone, which had strengthened my once weakened fear of him. But this time, and every other time that was to come, my courage was stronger. It was that courage that helped me throw the fastest Heat that I had ever thrown up until that point, which had traveled towards the bottom of the strike-zone. Jimmy Knuckles went for it. It was not an easy pitch to hit for anyone, but he had to go for it, for the sake of not losing the match.

His bat found its mark, allowing him to send the ball skyrocketing down center-field and over the audience seats, bouncing behind them just as our friend’s homerun ball did. The game was tied again, 16-16, which meant that if Jimmy struck out without getting another run, then we would have to go for extra rounds! My nerves caught up to the Gooch in a matter of seconds, prompting me to breath deeply while telling myself;

“Keep calm Vinny, just one good pitch is all it takes. You got this!”

My mental self-encouragement helped me bring myself to through a Left-Hook to the lower-right corner of the strike-zone. As I watched that ball make its way towards Jimmy, I prayed to the big boss upstairs that this match was going work out well. Jimmy swung at the ball and… missed! He struck out at the twelfth round with the score tied, which meant that the game would continue! I exhaled a sigh of relief as Jimmy stomped over to his dugout in a furious huff, with The Secret Weapon coming up to take his place at Homeplate.

            From this point on, in accordance with the rules, whoever got the tie-breaking run would win the whole match. So, I knew perfectly well that I had to do my absolute best in order to do my job right. Once the kid took his stance, I decided to give him a challenging pitch for him to take a swing at; a Heat carefully aimed directly at the bottom left corner of the strike-zone. This was one of those pitches that required some darn good accuracy, because it was so close to the corner that if it went even a little wide, it would go outside of the zone, thus it would not count as a strike. This way, Jimmy would not be able to say that I was giving our friend an easy run so late into the game, but at the cost of giving him a pitch that would make him work hard for that winning run. Everyone else in that stadium, myself included, kept our eyes glued on the kid as the ball traveled closer to Homeplate. He waited ever so patiently… and, right when the ball hovered over the plate, he swung the bat onto it with a ferocious cracking sound that echoed throughout the stadium. He made that baby soar so high and far, that it rose through the giant opening in the ceiling with the speed of a race car and flew over the roof, out of anyone’s sight!

            I saw that ball make its incredible journey, but I could not believe it. I understood how the rules for the match worked, but I could not believe it. The Gooch was filled with disbelief and stunned into silence by what I had seen. All was quiet for five seconds. During that time span, my disbelief was quickly overtaken by joy so strong that, after the fifth second had past, it drove me to cry out to the heavens while raising my hands to the night sky;

“ITS OVER!”

I ran over to our friend, our conquering hero, to give him the biggest hug that the Gooch’s young arms could muster. Tears rained from my eyes as I laughed in celebration of this wonderful occasion. When I ran, I saw on the corner of my right eye that Stephanie was running like a bolt of lightning away from the seats towards the nearest path to the tunnel. Shortly after I hugged the kid, Steph darted up to us from said tunnel to hug us both. I could hear her choking back her tears as she exclaimed with a voice that was filled to the brim with happiness;

“Thank you so much! THANK YOU!”

It did not take long for him to join in on the laughter as we all jumped around while locked in our group hug. His opponent, for one glorious minute, was forgotten by me, by all three of us, for we were too darn happy to care about him. After hurting children for months and getting away with it, Jimmy Knuckles had finally been beaten by a child. The Secret Weapon had won!

            After that minute of joyous celebration had past, we released each other from the group hug and turned around to face the bully himself. His back was turned to face us, so I could not see his face. But the Gooch could imagine that he was positively furious, and embarrassed, with himself, so he did not want to show his embarrassment to anyone. His arms were hanging next to his sides and for exactly three seconds, I saw his right hand tighten its grip on his bat’s handle. After that, his grip loosened back to a normal level before he turned back around to look at each of us with an expression on his face that was filled with anger. Slowly, he walked over to us, stomping on the ground with each step that he took. As he did so, he turned his eyes to focus entirely on the kid, who stood between Stephanie and myself. Recognizing this, I immediately moved over to stand between Jimmy and him, with Stephanie, who was to my left, doing the exact same thing. Upon stopping to turn our bodies to face Jimmy’s, we raised our arms to stretch them straight out from our sides, defending our friend just as he did for us. This sight prompted Jimmy to stop and stand just a few inches away from the two of us, and an inch or two more from our friend. I gave that young man an angry look that screamed; “Don’t mess with the Gooch’s friends.” My eyes were locked on to Jimmy’s, for I did not want him to pull a fast one on any of us without me catching him in the act. Five seconds of silence had past before the big guy told us all a single sentence that I will not forget for the rest of my life, in a rough tone that had a mix of anger and resignation within it;

“Like I said before, I am a man who is as good as his word.”

Without another word, he walked past all three of us and into the tunnel. I watched him as he made his exit without even trying to make a scene. Just like that, Jimmy Knuckles was gone, leaving the Gooch feeling both relieved and dumbfounded.

            I turned my head to look at Steph as I explained my confusion to my two friends;

“The Gooch… expected him to at least throw an insult at us before leaving, but… he didn’t. He just left without even calling us a single name!”

Steph looked back at the tunnel as she calmly replied;

“I know, and it’s very unlike him to do this. I mean, have any of you ever heard of a bully who chose to not hurt someone over losing?”

I shook my head to tell her that I had never heard of such a person. I looked at The Secret Weapon to see that he too was shaking his head. I then looked back at Steph to ask her another question, one that was bouncing about in my head ever since the match was made;

“Do you think Jimmy will hold up his end of the deal?”

She looked back at me, shut her eyes in thought for a few seconds, and spoke as she opened them up again;

“I don’t know, Vinny, but I do know this much…”

She giggled softly to herself before finishing with a sly smile on her face;

“That guy is going to find out that at least one adult is on our side.”

She winked with her right eye as I then exclaimed out of sudden realization;

“Oh gosh, I remember now: Greg! He promised that he would deal with Jimmy after the match!”

“Oh yes he did.”, Stephanie uttered with joy in her voice, clearly anticipating what ever it was that her father had in store for him.

She then turned her attention over to the kid, who was looking at each of us with calmness etched upon his face, as she spoke directly to him in a tone that oozed with gratitude, with a truly tender smile, and her eyes lit up with sweet appreciation for his efforts;

“Again, thank you so much for your help. No matter what happens next, I will never forget the day when The Secret Weapon bested our bully.”

He nodded his head as he expressed that lovable smile of his. As much as I was enjoying such a wonderful touching moment, I had yet another question to ask. This one, however, was meant for kid himself, as asked him calmly with a friendly smile to let him know that all was well;

“The Gooch has been fine with you being all quiet and mysterious, out of gratitude for your help of course, but are you sure you're not going to tell us your name?”

            The kid turned his head and body to look all around him, just as he did before, back when we first met. After returning to his previous position, he looked at each of us square in the eyes, for a moment or two, before doing something that neither of us expected to see. He reached into the right-side pocket of his pants with his left hand to pull out a small notebook with sheets of paper that were connected to each other at the top and no binder rings. He then reached into the same pocket again, this time with his right hand, to pull out a NO.2 pencil that looked to have been recently sharpened. He then silently wrote on the front paper, quick as a flash, and put his pencil back where he found it. Without warning, he ripped the paper that he had written on out of the notebook, while being careful to not rip it up. After putting the notebook back into its pocket with his right hand, while holding onto the paper with his left, he then folded it in half from the bottom up, and did it again from the left side to the right. Finally, he handed that folded piece of paper to Stephanie, who slowly took it while looking utterly perplexed. The Gooch was just as confused as she was, but I had a feeling that there was a good reason for our friend’s odd actions. So, I asked him calmly;

“I take it you only want the two of us to read what you wrote, right?”

He nodded his head to signify that I was correct, which prompted me to tell Steph;

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s see what he wants to tell us.”

Stephanie stared at the folded paper for a few seconds before declaring as she attempted to unfold it;

“Why not? This is the least I can do for such a good friend.”

Unfolding the paper was a simple matter, as it did not take long for Steph to do so. Once the deed was done, she aimed it at her face while lowering it far enough down for me to see it too. What was written upon that paper was a single phrase, one that described the boy who would become our greatest friend better than any other;

“I am Pablo.”

I looked over at Pablo, who was revealing a hint of nervousness on his face. After thinking for a moment, I told him the truth with a genuine smile;

“Pablo, eh? Not a bad name.”

I looked over at Steph, who was also smiling, as she declared truthfully;

“Yeah, I like the name, and the guy who has it.”

Pablo’s nervousness morphed into his recognizable smile as he giggled softly out what appeared to the Gooch to be relief. Taking Steph’s words to heart, I then declared with that cool, calm tone that I would eventually use almost all the time;

“‘Nuff said.”

Chapter Text

            I almost lost hope. I almost gave up on my believing that Jimmy Knuckles, the bully of many honest children, myself included, could be stopped. That someone could find the guts to stand up to him and get him to stop hurting kids with his cruel words. For those long months when he bullied us, I tried really hard to hold onto that hope, even as it became more and more difficult to keep it from slipping away. There were times when I even considered giving up willingly, but the thought of those other little ones being hurt by him was enough to keep me going each time, albeit barely. Eventually, however, I felt myself reaching the breaking point, and just when I was about ready to give up hope entirely, my dear friend Vinny the Gooch came to me during school one day to give me the kind of news that made my heart soar; a little boy had stood up to Jimmy in defense of Vinny and, I still can’t believe I am saying this, got him to go away!

            As we talked, I learned that apparently this brave new kid was a hard one to find. It seemed to us that he did not go to our school, and The Gooch could not find him anywhere on that day. Even so, I felt a level of happiness that I had not experienced in a long time, not since before Jimmy first reared his ugly head with that stupid trucker hat of his. Vinny was very happy as well, which was always fine by me. I then told him that I would let the other kids know what had happened and sure enough, I did exactly that. I knew the phone-numbers of every single child who Jimmy had bullied, because they were gracious enough to give them to me with their parents’ permission. So, I was able to call each of them to tell them the good news. Since Vinny was a witness to what that little boy had done, I only had to call six people. Here are each of their reactions, with their names being used with their expressed blessings:

Kimmy Eckman – “That kid has guts. I like him!”

Ronnie Dobbs – “That was really nice of him to save Vinny from that mean old bully!”

Gretchen Hasselhoff – “Um, ThewayhestoppedJimmyfromhurtingVinnywithoutthrowingapunchwassupercoolandIreallywanttohaveafriendlikethatoneday, hmm.”

Pete Wheeler – “Uh… I really like that someone finally gave that darn Jimmy a hard time. I’m hopin’ that the kid don’t get hurt by ‘im too.”

Maria Luna – “Excelente! I am so happy for that brave niño! Niño means ‘little boy’ in Español, by the way.”

Reese Worthington – “Most fortuitous! It is about time that someone found the courage to take on that insulting brute of a teenager! When I see that young boy, I will make sure to shake his hand as a show of gratitude for his efforts.”

After making my calls, I decided to check up on Vinny as soon as possible to see if this defender of children would strike again. Turns out, it did not take long for him to do exactly that.

The boy would go on to stand up for Reese Worthington, just as he did for Vinny before. But this time, the situation played out a bit differently; apparently a little girl had caught wind of what the big jerk was up to and decided to tell everyone she could about what was going on. Her choice to spread the word had caused a crowd of young onlookers, kids and teenagers alike, to move over to where Jimmy, Reese, and the boy were at, which prompted the bully to get all shaky in his legs before walking off in a huff. Unfortunately, I was not there when it happened, as I was helping my family at the time. I had found out about what had happened through the resulting gossip that was being spread throughout school and when I did, I felt my heart rise to the clouds above in response to the news! When Vinny came along to tell me his side of the story, I listened closely and promised myself that I would reward that sweet girl with the biggest hug ever. A shame really, that I could not find her, nor could I find Reese in that playground where everything had happened.

            As I would learn later on, all of the kids who were bullied by Jimmy, save for Vinny and myself, had decided to stay away from Playground Commons, out of fear of being troubled by him again. Apparently, even one of my friends had made the same decision, just so that she could avoid being bullied altogether. This did not sit well with me at all, because playgrounds should be safe places for kids to have fun, not places to keep away from out of fear! Well, at least I was able to catch Vinny there during one Sunday afternoon, and much to my joy, I had also managed to meet the courageous hero at last! During our conversation, I made sure to befriend him. I mean, after all the good that he had done, how could I not call him my friend? Unfortunately, however, our talk was interrupted by the bully himself, who decided to challenge the boy to a Homerun Derby match! The deal was that if he won, then Jimmy would swear to never bully him or anyone who he considered to be a friend and he would not skip town. But if Jimmy won, then he could bully anyone he wanted to without being stopped by the kid. Vinny and I could tell that this was a trap, but that boy accepted the challenge anyway. Brave of him to do that for us, for all of the kids who Jimmy had troubled, but it was also a huge risk. He had one week to practice for the match, and he apparently had never watched a Baseball game before, let alone played in one! Luckily for him, and unbeknownst to Jimmy, I happen to be pretty knowledgeable on all things Baseball. But I was also terrified of being found out by Jimmy and made to feel embarrassed over having such knowledge. After a bit of well-meaning encouragement on Vinny and the kid’s part, I decided to offer my help to him. I was still really scared, but more than that, I wanted to get back at Jimmy and help my friends when they needed me.

            I am glad that I made that choice, because if I didn’t, then I would not have had the pleasure of training the young boy and seeing him defeat Jimmy in his own game! Watching him get that winning homerun… wow, that made me cry so much on that night. The tears were born from happiness and that sweet release of months-worth of tension that was born from fear and anger. Fear of Jimmy and anger over what he had done to us kids, to me. Those two feelings, for a brief, yet wonderful moment, were gone as I hugged both Vinny and our friend at the same time. It was… glorious. After the celebrating ended and Jimmy left the stadium, the kid who beat him decided to give us his name before leaving as well; Pablo. I will never forget that name for as long as I live.

Two days had passed since then, and Playground Commons could not have been more peaceful. Much to my shock, Jimmy seemed to have decided to honor his end of the deal by not bullying Pablo or any of his friends, which included Vinny and yours’ truly. Heck, neither the Gooch, the rest of Jimmy’s targets, or myself had seen or heard from the jerk ever since the match ended. Needless to say, I was quick to take full advantage of the new situation, and I was not alone. Vinny made it a point to join me on each peaceful day, so that we could talk about stuff, relax at his favorite bleacher, play around on the monkey bars, and other fun things that kids tend to do on nice days. It was during the third day, as the two of us sat on that same bleacher, that I had noticed that another familiar face had returned to the playground; Reese Worthington.

Reese was one of the eight kids, Vinny and myself included, who were bullied by Jimmy before Pablo had stepped in. Whenever the brute decided to switch to other targets after getting bored, Reese was frequently the next one on his hitlist, if you will. The little guy was one of the first of us who I chose to befriend. Having the same bully certainly helped make that a bit easier on us both, really. Judging from him staring at the sand below him as he walked in a slow, melancholy fashion, I figured that something was bothering him. So, I decided to tell Vinny to watch my seat for a bit as I got up off of the bleacher and made my way over to the visibly troubled kid.

Reese was a short child, roughly Vinny’s size, who had blond hair and was wearing one of his white dress shirts, a yellow tie, brown shorts, and white sneakers; the kind of outfit that he typically likes to wear on nice days like this one. I walked over to his right side, which prompted him to stop moving, raise his head up while turning it to face me, and give me a polite, yet solemn greeting, with his blue eyes and the frown on his face giving off the impression that he was not feeling happy at all;

“A pleasant day to you, Stephanie.”

He was not hiding how he felt at all, or at least, he was not doing a good job at it. So, with concern in my voice and heart, I greeted him back;

“A pleasant day to you too, Reese. Now, what is eating at you?”

He turned his head over to his left side to look away from me while softly declaring;

“Nothing. Nothing is eating at me…”

I shook my head and sighed as I got down on my right knee and told him honestly;

“Reese, I can tell that something is bothering you, and you can tell me about it, if you want to.”

            Up until this point, I had been helping the rest of Jimmy’s targets, including Reese, come to terms with what he had done to them, or at least cope with their experiences. So, this was not the first time that I had to gently convince one of them to open up about how they were feeling, and I figured in my head that this would not be the last as I waited for Reese to respond to my words. I would not dare force him to open up, so I made sure to give him the chance to decline the offer, if nothing else but to ease his worries. He aimed his head to look back at me, his eyes locking on to mine as he sighed before speaking in a soft tone;

“I had heard about that Homerun Derby match, about how that kid had beaten Jimmy.”

I could not help but smile as the memory of that event played out vividly in my head. I listened closely to Reese’s words as he continued;

“I was overjoyed when I heard about that, simply because of the fact that Jimmy got outright embarrassed by someone smaller than him in a sporting event. What’s bothering me is…”

He looked straight down at the ground, clearly showing that he was very hesitant to finish expressing his thought. I placed my right hand on his left shoulder as I gave him some positive encouragement;

“It’s okay Reese,” I sweetly uttered with that smile from earlier still on my face as I continued;

“You can tell me about it, I won’t laugh.”

He slowly raised his head back up and asked me with sadness in his eyes;

“Promise you won’t laugh?”

Without hesitation, I tell him with a friendly giggle;

“I promise.”

As a small smile grew on his face for a moment before turning back into a frown, he told me the truth;

“Jimmy’s disappearance from the playground has helped me feel safe here again. But… I still can’t help but be afraid of making friends with the teenagers.”

My smile vanished as I immediately understood what he was getting at. I kept my mouth shut as he continued;

“I know, not every teenager is a mean-spirited jerk. But I am scared that if I try to make friends with one of them, they could turn out to be like that brute.”

His breathing became audibly shaky as he exclaimed in a pained voice;

“I do not wish to go through that again!”

            Right then and there, I stretched my arms out to my sides to silently ask him if he wanted a hug. Reese looked at me for three seconds, his eyes becoming increasingly watery with each passing second, before running up to me to wrap his arms around my waist. I gently wrapped my arms around his in return as he broke down and cried his young heart out. This was just one example of the pain that Jimmy had brought to kids, and I will admit, Reese was not the first one to shed tears over what that bully had done, and as I held him gently, I had a feeling that he would not be the last. I gave him all the time he needed to cry, a whole two minutes if I recall correctly. After that, we got out of the hug and looked each other in the eye as I got back up on my feet. The young boy appeared to be calmer now as I told him sweetly;

“I get it man. I don’t want to go through that situation either.”

I consciously clenched my fists as I then noted in a solemn voice;

“No one deserves to be bullied by anyone, for any reason.”

Reese nodded his head in agreement while stating plainly;

“I agree with you, Stephanie. Which leads me to wonder why Jimmy would be so cruel to children. I mean, what does he gain from that?”

“Heck if I know, buddy.”, I told him in response while drawing blanks in my head over the question. Just then, an idea came to my head, one that I liked very much. I knew that the subject that I wanted to talk to him about would be difficult for me to work though, but I wanted to take the opportunity to help Reese in my own way. So, I took a breath and asked him;

“Would you like to hear a story?”

His eyes lit up out of excitement as his smile returned with a vengeance;

“Oh yes please!”, he excitedly exclaimed;

“I do love to hear a good story, or read one if it is in written form.”

I giggled a little over the sight of my friend being genuinely happy before telling him;

“Now then, this is a story about a young girl and her bully.”

With Reese listening closely, I told him the tale as clearly as could, even though it did hurt me to tell it.

            “A while back, there was a young girl who was smart, sweet, and did not know of cruelty. She loved to play in a playground, very much like the one that we are standing in right now. She played there every day, without a care in the world. Each day, she would bring with her a single pack of bubblegum. Oh, that girl loved to blow bubbles with her gum, and thus she did this every day. One day, she came face-to-face with this tall, older teenager who seemed to look friendly enough to the girl. With a big smile on her face, she greeted him as a friend. The teenager, however, greeted her as a bully. He insulted her, called her mean names, and made her cry multiple times. He even made fun of her love for blowing bubbles by giving her a nickname that was meant to make her feel like crud over it. Needless to say, he made her feel horrible and…”

“and…”, I was trying very hard to finish my sentence while a keeping straight face, but the pain in my heart made it very challenging for me to do so. Reese, thankfully, decided to attempt to finish it for me by asking in a soft tone that gave off a hint of sadness;

“Worthless?”

That one word was enough for him to get my attention as I looked right at him, surprised that he was able to guess what I was thinking of correctly.

“Yes… worthless.”, I said to him calmly. I took another breath to compose myself before continuing the story.

“That poor girl learned of cruelty on that day, thanks to her bully, and it was also thanks to him that she eventually stopped taking her bubblegum to the playground, out of fear of being ridiculed for blowing bubbles by that jerk. He tormented her on each day she went to that playground, without fail. She wanted to tell her father about him, but she was afraid that she would get in trouble for speaking up about such a thing. Oh, she quietly cried in her room every night while wondering if there was anyone who could be her friend. Eventually, however, she found one.”

As I told the tale, Reese’s face started to express a frown. That frown became more and more apparent over time. But upon hearing that last sentence, that frown quickly turned into a hopeful smile, his eyes lighting up a second time as I went on.

“While walking through her school’s hallway to grab lunch, she bumped into this little boy with a nice dress shirt and tie. Literally! She apologized to him for the accident, while also expecting him to get upset at her over it. But he did not! Instead, he gave off a gentle smile and politely accepted her apology. Feeling relieved that she was not going to get in trouble, she thanked him with a smile of her own. The boy then offered to walk with her to lunch. The girl was afraid of what might happen, afraid of being hurt again, but his smile and polite behavior helped her find the courage to say yes. The two then walked together over to the cafeteria to enjoy a good lunch. Oh, those two had hit it off with ease! They introduced themselves, made lots of jokes, told interesting stories to each other, and just had a darn good time. The girl soon became very happy, for she had found a good friend when she needed one the most.”

Reese laughed a little during this part, as did I. But there was more of the story for me to tell, and not all of it was positive.

“As the pair of pals talked, however, the boy’s smile began to fade as he looked at his half-eaten lunch with sadness in his eyes. The girl would not have any of that, though! Determined to help her friend in any way she could, she asked him gently;

“Why are so sad, friend?”

He looked back at her and, after a few seconds of silence, he told her softly with fear in his voice;

“I shouldn’t. You’ll think I’m lying.”

Hearing this threw her for a loop. She did not expect her new friend to say something like this at all! Even so, she would not be stopped so easily. So, she decided to tell him with honesty in her heart;

“I’ll listen to you, and I don’t think you’ll lie.”

Her kind words clearly got through to him, for the boy’s eyes slowly started to tear up. His breath began to shake quite a bit. Before long, he slowly uttered three words that the girl would remember forever;

“I… was… bullied!”

He then held on to her as tightly as his little arms could manage, almost pouncing her! The girl was frozen in place, frozen out of shock over what she had just heard. For five seconds, her mind was stuck on one thought. It was this thought that she whispered to her friend on the sixth second as she slowly and gently wrapped her arms around him;

“I am not the only one… I am not alone… and you are not alone either.”

It was a moment that neither of those kids, those two friends, would ever forget.”

            By the time I had finished telling my tale, I was barely able to hold my tears in my eyes as I looked Reese dead in the eye. They did not come from sadness or happiness, I just felt like I was… releasing that tension that Jimmy’s antics had created within me all over again, this time by telling that story. It was the kind of tension that hurt like heck to hold on to and, apparently, could come back to haunt a person when they least expect it. No part of my body was tense as Reese gave off a sly smile while speaking in a soft tone, his eyes also filled with tears once again;

“Those kids were us, right?”

I gently wiped my tears off of my face with my right arm as I admitted to him with a slight laugh;

“Pretty much.”

As he took care of his own tears right along with me, my smart friend then noted;

“Well, at least I now know where that nickname came from. But I am confused, Stephanie.”

We both lowered our right arms to look at each other again as he explained calmly with his right eyebrow raised slightly;

“I know that story, because we both have lived through the parts that we played in it. So, why tell it to me now?”

I smiled sweetly at Reese as I answered his question;

“I figured that you could use a reminder of a fact that two very good friends of mine helped me remember; you are never alone.”

Those words could not be truer to my heart. Even as I tried to be there for the other kids who Jimmy bullied, there were times when I forgot such an important lesson. Vinny and Pablo, they helped me remember it, and I owe them so much for that. I got back down on my right knee as I continued to give my heartfelt advice;

“If you ever need help with your problems, or if you just want someone to talk to, you got at least one friend to turn to for all of that.”

After I finished speaking my mind, I reached out to my friend with my right hand as a friendly offering of support. Reese, with a warm smile, slowly took my hand with his. As we shook hands, he made it a point to enthusiastically tell me something that caught me by surprise;

“Thank you, my friend! Honestly, I think ‘Bubbles’ is a cool nickname!”

Needless to say, I was stunned by his words! Heck, it took me almost five seconds to stop jumbling my words around before I could utter in a shocked and nervous voice;

“C-cool?!”

“Yes!”, Reese exclaimed as he let go of my now shaking right hand;

“I mean, you enjoy bubblegum, I enjoy bubblegum, and I find being able to blow bubbles with bubblegum to be quite impressive.”

I had to shut my eyes and take two deep breaths before being able to think about what I had just heard come out of that well-meaning kid’s mouth;

“That stupid nickname… cool… I never thought of it that way before…”

I chose to say nothing in response, because honestly, I could not even think of what to say. But I knew one thing; Reese Worthington was being nice to me. So, I silently thanked him by giving him a genuine smile, a gesture that I hoped he would appreciate. His face began to express a frown as he then asked me;

“What about you? Are you afraid of the big kids too?”

            I knew that question would come up from the moment I decided to talk to Reese, but I was ready for it. With a solemn sigh and a serious frown of my own, I told him honestly;

“I am just as afraid of befriending the big kids as you are, Reese. But…”

My frown grew into yet another smile as I finished confidently;

“I think it will be easier on us both, if we face that fear together.”

Now it was his turn to smile as he nodded his head once and noted cheerfully;

“A most splendid idea, Stephanie! Fear is quite the stubborn feeling, and I am, in all honesty, quite tired of being bothered by it.”

I could not help but laugh a little at his words before telling him;

“You and me both, pal!”

We both had a good laugh for about five to ten seconds before calming down. An idea then popped into my brain;

“Maybe asking him about his favorite hobbies could help him figure out how to solve our shared problem. At the very least, it might improve his mood a bit more.”

With that thought in mind, I asked him with care;

“So… what are your favorite hobbies? I imagine you might find a friend or two who likes them.”

Apparently, I had him at ‘hobbies’, for his eyes lit up to the point that they almost sparkled upon hearing the word. Without a moment’s hesitation, he gleefully explained;

“Oh, I most certainly love to play my trombone! Mind you, I am not very good at it yet. But I am determined to keep practicing with the brass instrument, as I want to be able to play songs really well with it!”

“That is awesome, Reese!”, I exclaimed out of genuine support for Reese and his lovely hobby. I enjoyed listening to music from time to time myself, so the fact that one of my friends could play an instrument was pretty cool to me. The kid was not done yet, however, as he then asked me a question that, honestly, I really should have seen coming from a mile away;

“Which leads me to wonder, Stephanie; what are your favorite hobbies?”

            My happiness was overtaken by fear and nervousness within a matter of seconds upon hearing that question. Those two feelings were strong enough together to make me freeze in place from head to toe, my face still holding that smile from earlier, even though it probably looked pretty fake thanks to my body freezing up on me. I recognized what had happened and was quick to take slow, deep breaths to relax my muscles, which were feeling quite tense. As I tried to compose myself, my mind was racing with one fear-induced thought after another;

“My hobbies?! I only have the one! Should I tell him about it? What would he think of me loving Baseball? He wouldn’t laugh at me over it. Right? He is my friend, I can trust him, right?! What if he makes fun of me over it? What if I lose my friend over it?”

Upon noticing that last thought in particular, I quickly moved my hands up to my cheeks to give them a light, but firm, tap to bring myself back to Earth out of sheer instinct. As I did this, I thought to myself;

“Get it together, girl! Remember what Dad taught you; when your mind is racing…”

I slowly lowered my hands back down to my sides, closed my eyes, and took another breath that was slower and deeper than the previous ones. I deliberately tuned into how the breath felt as I finished my thought;

“Focus on your breath to calm it down, so that you can think straight.”

Doing all of that was enough to ease my mind, which prompted me to open my eyes back up to see that Reese was looking at me with both curiosity and a hint of worry in his eyes. Seeing the sight before me, and experiencing the peace of a quieter mind, drove me to make a choice that, for me, was both brave and terrifying;

“I’m going to tell him. Four of the people in my life did not hurt me over this, I might as well go for five-for-five.”

For the entire time that I knew him, Reese Worthington had shown to me that he was a sweet, respectable friend. I felt, as I got down on my right knee once more, that he was not the type of person who would be mean to me over my hobby. That feeling persisted as I moved my face up to his right ear and told him in a frightened, slightly high-pitched whisper that was filled with racked nerves;

“… Baseball.”

When Reese saw me get down on my knee, he seemed to recognize what I was going to do, for he tilted his head slightly to his left to give me room to reach his right ear. I could always count on him being so darn observant. After giving him my answer, I moved my head back to look at him carefully while waiting for his response. I did not have to wait long, however, for his smile came back with a vengeance as he noted with polite cheer;

“Ah, I see that you too are a fan of sports!”

My eyes grew wide in shock as he continued;

“I am more of a casual fan at best, as I tend to catch a match or two when I am able. Academics and a social life can take up much of a person’s time, after all.”

My shock quickly gave way to joy and relief as the urge to bombard him with oodles of Baseball trivia came rushing through my being, like the audience in a Baseball match doing the wave! It took all of my willpower to contain that urge within me, to ride that wave until it left me. I figured that this was not the time or place for me to, as Vinny would put it, ‘blab about my favorite sport ever for hours on end’. With a laugh that expressed my relief, I softly suggested to him;

“We can talk about that hobby another time, okay?”

Reese nodded his head in agreement before declaring confidently;

“Of course, my friend. So then, let us discuss how we are going to tackle our shared fear, shall we?”

“That was just what I was thinking, Reese.”, I calmly admitted while feeling pretty confident as well. Opening up about a secret hobby can do that for a person.

            After thinking for a moment, I suggested to him;

“It might be a good idea to start making more friends who are at least close to our ages. That way, we can work on our fear of befriending teenagers and get a lot of friends who we can turn to for support at the same time.”

Reese’s eyes lit up once more as he exclaimed;

“That is a sound idea to me!”

“The first idea that came to my head, and he likes it!”, I thought excitedly to myself as a question popped into my brain;

“Do you know any kid like that?”, I asked him calmly.

He grabbed his chin with his right hand to think for a few seconds before noting;

“Well, there is this one girl who I met yesterday afternoon, as I was walking to my house.”

“Awesome, Reese!”, I exclaimed in response;

“What do you know about her?”

He shut his eyes as he explained what he knew in his typical polite, deliberate manner;

“From our short conversation, I could discern three key facts about her. One, she is slightly taller than me, but her age is still unknown. Two, she has an older brother who I could potentially befriend if I am careful. Three…”

He paused and opened his eyes to look back at me with calm seriousness being expressed by his face before finishing;

“I only talked with her once, and yet I could easily tell that she has a considerably big mouth.”

I laughed with confidence as I explained to him;

“That is just fine with me pal. Are you going to see her again?”

“Yes, actually.”, he noted with a hint of excitement in his voice;

“During our chat, she invited me to visit her home tomorrow. Not today, mind you, since she is busy right now.”

I smiled excitedly before telling him sweetly;

“You did good Reese, even without knowing how old she could be.”

“You have my thanks, Stephanie.”, he told me out of gratitude before asking;

“Would you like to come along with me?”

“I would love that, but you might want to warn her about you bringing a friend to her house, if you can.”, I made clear to him, as I did not want to be rude to someone who could actually be our new friend. Reese suddenly looked seriously nervous as he slowly admitted softly;

“I… did not get her phone number. I can’t blame her really, as we had only just met. So, unless I can catch her before arriving at her household… you will be a surprise guest to her.”

I gave him a quick thumbs up before responding with certainty;

“Its okay, I’ll make sure to apologize to her for the inconvenience.”

“Thank you, friend. I am sure it will not be too much trouble.”, Reese noted with a small nod. With that, the two of us walked back over to Vinny, who was still sitting on his bleacher while drinking his juice and looking positively cool in his glasses. As we walked side by side, with Reese to my right, I declared to him with confidence oozing from my voice;

“You say that she has a big mouth? Please, I can handle a girl like her.”

I was not entirely wrong, since I had successfully dealt a few big mouthed kids in the past. But he was not having any of my crud, for he told me with honesty and slyness in his voice;

“I can say with certainty that you have never met a girl like Angela Delvecchio.”

For the sake of being perfectly honest, I will say this; that girl was going to prove to us both just how right Reese was about her.

Chapter Text

            I believe in family. Yeah, I know, that sentence is ripped right out of that Italian mobster movie that my Pops loves to watch, but it’s the truth! I think of family as one of the most important things in life, ya’ know? My whole family thinks that way, actually, so ya’ can understand where I get the idea from. Now ‘eres the thing about my family that ya’ should know right away; a Delvecchio always shows who they truly are when their back is against the wall. I’ve seen a few examples of this durin’ my young life, but I can’t think a better one than this story that I have lined up, ya’ know? It started with the day when I was expectin’ this little guy, Reese Worthington, to pay me a visit at my place. Now, normally I wouldn’t welcome just anybody into my home, or else my Ma’ and Pops would have two cows, one for each of ‘em, ya’ know? Nah, I preferred to invite kids who are polite and actually nice to people. One long talk with Reese was all it took for me to see that he had fit the bill good and proper. So, how I could resist invitin’ a potential new friend like him to have some fun at my house? The way I figured, if he behaved well while under a Delvecchio’s roof, then I could call him a friend with a straight face. Anyways, I was restin’ my belly on the livin’ room floor in my blue overalls, white short-sleeved shirt, blue skirt, white pants, and brown shoes while watchin’ some TV. A news reporter was interviewin’ some old guy in a suit. They were talkin’ about political stuff or somethin’, I didn’t pay much mind to borin’ stuff like that on the TV. But nothin’ else was on at the time, so I was just lyin’ there, waiting for somethin’ fun to watch. when the doorbell rang.

            My Ma’ was relaxin’ on the livin’ room sofa behind me when that bell started ringin’, which prompted her to walk on over to the front door to the right of the TV, unlock it, and open it up. All this commotion got me curious, and I was really bored, so I walked up behind her to see what all the ruckus was about. She was wearin’ her usual house clothes that day; a grey t-shirt, a pair of blue jeans, and her fluffy brown slippers. I was able to peek out from behind Ma’s left leg as she opened the door to see Reese himself, standin’ at the doorway while lookin’ really nice in that white dress shirt, brown shorts, white shoes, and blue tie of his. My boredom had almost made me forget about him visitin’ on that day, so when I saw that kid, I could not help but make a big smile out of excitement, ya' know? But before I could even think of the fun things that I wanted to do with him, I looked over to Reese’s left side to find a brown girl standin’ next to him. This lady was clearly taller than him and she looked pretty darn good in her teal shirt, matchin’ pants, white sneakers, and sports gloves that also matched her shirt. I had never seen a kid wear sports gloves to a house visit before, but who was I to judge, ya' know? What got me curious, however, was why she was here with Reese, when I invited him and no one else to my home. So, with my smile still on my face, I walked over to stand at my Ma’s left side, looked Reese in the eye, and sold it to him straight;

“Good to see ya’, kid. Who’s your pal? I didn’t invite anyone else, so ya’ got some explain’ to do.”

I made sure to give him a wink at the end of that sentence, to let him know that I was not mad at him or the tall girl over this. Curious, yes, but not mad. Seeing that look of pure nervousness on his face can encourage a person to calm him down, ya’ know? Luckily for him, I wasn’t about giving people crud over small stuff. It looked to my eyes that he got the hint, since I could see him taking a few breaths before returning my smile with a genuine one of his own. Without warning, he raised his right hand to offer me a handshake while responding in a way that I can describe as positively polite;

“Indeed, I do! My apologies for the confusion, but I figured it would be lovely to introduce you to not one, but two new friends, myself included.”

I could not help but appreciate what he was doin’, so I took him up on the handshake as I said to him plainly;

“I got no problem with this, since I can tell that ya’ mean well, ya’ know? What do ya’ think, Ma’?”

Believe me, I could tell that he wasn’t lookin’ to cause trouble. His smile was all the proof I needed. I looked up at Ma’ as I asked her my question, hopin’ that she had the same idea. She stood head and shoulders taller than any of us kids, and yet, she was not scarin’ anyone with her size that time, not with that warm look on her face that is. Take it from me, my Ma’ was only intimidatin’ when she needed to be. I patiently waited for her answer as I saw her turn her head to face Reese’s friend, who looked back up at her with more nerves on her face than what Reese had shown earlier. She was even shakin’ in her legs, for cryin’ out loud! I’m thinkin’ that Ma’ noticed this, because she asked her in a calm, gentle voice;

“What’s your name?”

The poor girl had to close her eyes for a moment while taking a deep breath before tellin’ her in a clear, yet soft voice;

“Stephanie Morgan, ma’am. I’m a friend of Reese, who your daughter was kind enough to invite into your home. I wanted to meet the girl who showed him that kindness.”

That lady just made a good first impression on me, fo’ sure! Of course, I still had to wait on Ma’ to give her response, because even though I was allowed to invite other kids into the house, it was up to either Ma’, Pops, or the both of them to decide whether or not they can get through the front door. She looked back at me with a warm smile and moved off to the side while holdin’ the door open to let the kids through. With an excited laugh, I thanked Ma’ as I guided my two new friends into the Delvecchio house.

            With the introductions dealt with, I took Stephanie and Reese through the livin’ room and through a doorway that led to a hallway that contained mine and… Tony’s rooms. Speakin’ of the knucklehead, before we could get anywhere near my bedroom door, he came out of his room and walked over to face all three of us with his ridiculously large dark brown pompadour hair lookin’ way too silly for his own good. He was wearin’ his favorite getup; a white sleeveless shirt, grey baggy pants, and red & white shoes. Normally, he likes to suck on a sucker like it’s one of those disgustin’ cigarettes or somethin’, like that makes him look cool. I guess he was not feelin’ up for one that time, ‘cause I did not see a sucker stick pokin’ out from his mouth when he spoke in that voice that oozed with way too much confidence;

“Yo, what’s up? Da name’s Tony Delvecchio, but ya’ can call me Vec. Ya’ know, Delvecchio, Vec, know what I’m sayin'?”

I could barely keep myself from groanin’. I mean, he had just started talkin’ and already he was bein’ annoyin’! But I knew better than to mouth off over how he was introducin’ himself, since no harm was bein’ done, ya know? Stephanie decided to respond to his greetin’ by introducin’ herself and her pal all polite like;

“Alright then, Vec. My name is Stephanie Morgan and this is Reese Worthington.”

I looked over at Reese to see him wavin’ hello at Tony, who then decided to do somethin’ foolish, which is what he normally does on any day of the week;

“Say, Steph… ya’ lookin’ like a pretty sight to me, and polite too.”

Yes, he decided to hit on a girl during their first meetin’. Like I said before, he’s a knucklehead! Thankfully, though, Stephanie was not havin’ any of his crud, for she took his poor attempt at wooin’ her and knocked it off to the side by tellin’ him in a tone that was equal parts polite and snarky;

“You know, it’s better to get to know a person before you start with the sweet talk, ya’ know what I’m sayin'?”

Yes, she said that last bit like how Tony had said it before, and I really enjoyed that! It was all I could do to contain my laughter as Tony showed an annoyed expression before walkin’ back into his room and shuttin’ the door from behind him in a huff. Feelin’ seriously relieved at gettin’ the roadblock that was my big brother out of the way, I guided Reese and Stephanie into my room, which was at the far-left side of the hallway, while Tony’s was on the right side and a bit closer to the livin’ room doorway. As we walked through my door, I could hear an all-too-familiar voice in my head tellin’ me somethin’ that I did not like at all;

“Ya’ wish ya’ could give your brother lip, ya’ little chicken!”

I used most of my self-control to keep myself from grumblin’ as I closed the door behind me. What was going on with my brother, I decided, would have to wait until my two guests were gone. Well, that was what I wanted, but as the sayin’ goes; ya’ don’t always get what ya’ want…

            After I showed them around my room, we jumped right into watchin’ one of my old movies on VHS. I had a VCR in my room, complete with a dozen VHS tapes stacked up next to an old CRT-TV that I had set up and ready to go. The tapes were movies and TV shows from different genres, includin’ history and comedy. I decided that, for my guests, a comedy movie would be fun to watch. As we laughed at one funny scene after another, I noticed that Reese would make jokes of his own from time to time, and let me tell ya’, his jokes were better than the ones that were made by the movie!

“Hahaha, ‘talk to the hand’, he says.”, Reese jovially noted as he was clearly preparin’ to deliver another joke. Stephanie and I, who had just recovered from his last joke (which poked fun at the movie’s taste for 90’s clothin’), waited patiently for the punchline. He delivered it with gusto and a bit of laughter;

“I mean, how could the bad guy talk to the hand, when it was a fist that was shoved into his face? More like ‘chew on the fist’!”

He even placed his own fist on his face as he talked for added effect, which only strengthened our laughter. After the movie was finished, we decided to have a little talk to recover from the joke-a-thon. Stephanie started us off with a suggestion;

“Okay, how about we talk a little bit about ourselves, so that we can get to know each other?”

I was all for the idea, and so was Reese, who declared excitedly;

“A wonderful idea, Stephanie! But who wants to go first?”

At this point, I felt pretty comfortable with talkin’ about myself around these kids, because they’ve been really polite and well-mannered so far, ya’ know? So, I confidently announced;

“I’ll go first!”

“Oh, this will be good.”, Stephanie remarked in response, with a small smile growing on her face. She and Reese looked at me with curiosity in their eyes as I calmly explained myself;

“Well, ya’ two already know that I can be pretty polite around people. I am a young lady, ya’ know? I don’t wanna toot my own horn or anythin’, but I can throw my bouncy ball at any spot I pick in my backyard and I won’t miss at all! Now, I better stop myself before I go overboard with the braggin’, ‘cause I gotta stay humble, ya’ know?”

Yeah, the last thing I wanted to do was to flaunt my own ego like… Tony. At that moment, Reese chose to make a comment that made my skin crawl;

“At least you know to stop yourself, Angela. That Tony guy, though, is another story altogether.”

“Why did you have to mention him, little guy?”, I thought to myself out of annoyed terror as I tried my best to hold my calm expression in place. I really did not want to make my new friends worry, ya’ know? Stephanie’s contribution to the discussion did not help matters much, however;

“Seriously, what kind of a person is foolish enough to hit on a lady on first sight?”

“The kind with a ridiculously large ego.”, I bitterly thought to myself. I didn’t realize it right away, but I did more than just think of that thought, I unconsciously said it under my breath as well! I guess I lost control of myself for a second there. I found out about that through Reese askin’ me out of confusion;

“What was that about an ego, Angela?”

            My terror rose to greater heights as I yelped with a high-pitched, frightened ‘eep!’ sound and turned my back on them to face the wall behind me in a hurry.

My mind began to race at a break-neck pace as numerous thoughts came roarin’ in my head;

“I don’t want to talk about Tony right now! But I don’t want to lie about him to my new friends! Lyin’ would make things easier on me though. But would it be right? Come on, I gotta do somethin’ about Tony, and soon! But can I pull it off, though? Will they believe me if I tell them the truth?”

My breath became erratic, heavy, and loud. The muscles in my neck tensed and ached. I could hear, and feel, my heart poundin’ in my chest. Simply put, I was feelin’ like the worst kind of crud imaginable. Thankfully for me, however, Stephanie could see that, for I could hear her soft, gentle voice piercin’ through my wild thoughts as she spoke in a slow pace that I could follow;

“Breathe slowly, Angela. Take as much time as you need to calm down, we’re here with you.”

This young lady can appreciate bein’ given the space I need to clear my head, and Stephanie, at that moment, was givin’ it to me. Her words and calm voice encouraged me to take several slow, deep breaths that helped cut the mental chatter down enough for me to think straight. As my still-achin’ neck muscles loosened and my heart slowed back down, I reached into the front pocket of my overalls to pull out a little somethin’ that was, and still is, very important to me. Don’t worry, I’ll reveal it at the proper time. Nothin’ wrong with me havin’ a little bit of fun with tellin’ my story, ya’ know? Takin' a good hard look at that object for five seconds caused me to hear, in my head, my Pops’ gentle voice remind me of an old family sayin’;

“Delvecchios never lie to the people they trust.”

The mental chatter stopped completely as I nodded my head a little, placed the object back into my front pocket, and decided in my mind;

“Well, I trust Stephanie and Reese, so… I might as well throw them a bone, ya’ know?”

I slowly turned back around to look at each of those two kids, who were lookin’ seriously worried about me. I walked up close to them and whispered in a voice that no one outside of my room could hear;

“Tony is… makin’ me very upset right now. I’ll explain more, because… I can’t hide this forever, ya’ know? But…”
After thinking for a moment or two, an idea popped into my noggin’ that raised my spirits up. With another deep breath, finished my sentence by tellin’ them my idea in the same whisper as before;

“I’ll wait until tomorrow to tell ya’. I’ll be helpin’ my Pops run his malt shop on that day and Tony won’t be there since he’ll be hangin’ out with his friends instead. We can talk about my problem then, okay?”

Stephanie and Reese each gave me a warm, almost motherly smile that quickly eased my worries as the little guy himself explained in a tone that was both polite and charmingly sweet;

“Talking about what is bothering you can be a difficult thing to do. Trust me, Stephanie and I know that for a fact. So, if you want to discuss the matter in the malt shop tomorrow, then we’ll respect your decision.”

“My thoughts exactly, Reese.”, Stephanie noted in agreement with that soft voice from earlier that could soothe even the angriest child. It took all of my self-control to hold back my tears before tellin’ them with a slightly shaky voice and honesty in my heart;

“Ya’ two are alright, ya’ know?”

After huggin’ it out like good friends should, we finished up our fun together in my room by playing videogames on my FS5 (I was player one, so my two pals had to take turns with the second controller), danced to the music played by my old record player, and enjoyed more of Reese’s jokes. Tony was not mentioned by any of us again for the rest of that day, much to my joy and relief. I didn’t get what I wanted, which was to put my troubles with Tony aside to focus on having fun with new friends. But, as I ushered them out through my front-door later that evenin’, I could not help but think that talkin’ with them about him would be even better. Like I said earlier, I couldn’t hide what was goin' on anymore…

            The next morning came, and I found myself helpin’ out around the kitchen at Big Tony’s Malt Shop, my Pops’ family-run food-servin’ establishment. Yes, his name is the same as my brother’s, which is why we always call him Pops, or Big Tony, as our customers call him. Anyway, I was contributin' to all the usual morinin' prep chores as a volunteer; wipin’ the counters and stove, sweepin’ the floor, helpin’ with settin’ up the stove and oven, cleanin’ out and stockin’ up the freezer, and takin’ inventory. It was hard work, but I enjoyed helpin’ with our family business. Speakin’ of family, some of the employees were around to help set up the shop too; Pops himself, my cousin Edmondo, and my Aunt Celeste. I told ya’ this is a family business!
Once I did what I needed to do for the mornin’ prep, I took a break by restin’ my butt on this stool that was sittin’ on the corner of the kitchen to the left of the door. I sat on that stool on each day when I was workin’, so everyone who worked there knew to keep that seat clean and safe for me. They even gave it a cool name; ‘Gelly’s Stool’. ‘Gelly’ is a nickname that my family liked to call me back then. Hearing that nickname back then brought a smile to my face, even though it was… hard for me to hear it sometimes. While I was relaxin’, I watched my Pops get the cookin’ utensils out from the drawers under the counter next to the stove to prepare for openin’ time. Seein’ my old man at work reminded me of the other reason why I was there, which prompted that mean voice from earlier to talk smack in my noggin some more;

“You ain’t got the guts to tell your Pops the truth about Tony. Best to shut your trap while you can, little girl.”

All that those words did was annoy me that time, enough to get me to get off of my stool and walk on over to Pops while my Ma’s soft, confident voice encouraged me in my head;

“You got this, Sugar Pop. Now go speak your truth.”

Her voice and words warmed my heart a little as I stopped at an inch or two away from Pops’ left leg to gently tug on his pants to get his attention. He was wearin’ his big white head chef’s hat, a black cookin’ apron that protected his white long-sleeved shirt from messes, a pair of see-through plastic gloves to keep germs off of the food, blue jeans, and dark-brown tennis shoes. Pops’ noticed what I was doin’, for he put his utensils down with care, looked down at me with a warm smile, and asked in his confident Italian accent;

“What’s up, Sugar Pop?”

I should’ve explained this earlier, but ‘Sugar Pop’ is the nickname that my Ma’ and Pops gave me when I was a four-year-old. They gave it to me ‘cause I had lots and lots of energy, and I still do, ya’ know? Goin’ back to my story, I felt my nerves shoot up like they were bottle rockets as I asked him in a voice so shaky, that I was surprised that I could say the words clearly;

“Ya-ya-ya’ m-m-mind if I t-t-talk to ya’ fa’ a moment?”

He laughed softly for a bit before tellin’ me all sweet like;

“Of course, Angela. Take a seat on your stool, and I’ll be there in a bit.”

I ran back to sit on the stool as instructed while takin’ several deep breaths to cool my head. It wasn’t like me to be so nervous while talkin’, but this wasn’t a normal situation, ya’ know? I watched Pops as he told Aunt Celeste and Cousin Edmondo to fill in for him while he chatted it up with his daughter. I could tell they were happy to oblige, since they each shot some sweet smiles at my direction as Big Tony walked over to my favorite part of the entire malt shop; The Milkshake Station, which was set up along the wall opposite the stove.

            Neither my brother or yours truly were allowed to even touch this wonderful place without direct supervision from Pops himself, and for good reason. This was where he made his delicious milkshakes; my favorite drink of all time and a favorite among the customers too. Since he hadn’t taught Tony or myself how to make such a truly delicious delicacy at the time, I knew better than to place my inept hands on such a sacred place. I began to express a big, excited smile when I saw Pops get right to work at that station because I knew what that meant; I was gettin’ a milkshake to drink! It was a perfect time to have one too, since not only was I always given a milkshake as a reward for my hard work at the shop, but I was also really needin’ a sweet drink to calm my nerves, ya’ know? He took his sweet time to make my drink too, ‘cause there’s no sense in rushin’ perfection, ya’ know? What else can I say? Milkshakes are goooood!

            After about five minutes of waitin’, I saw my Pops turn around to walk towards me while holdin’ my milkshake in his right hand. I knew the color of that drink anywhere, for the sight of it was enough to make me drool a little as I slowly uttered in excited anticipation;

“Peanut-butter and Chocolate… yummy!”

He handed it over to me with that warm smile from before still etched on his face, which prompted me to quickly reach out and grab the drink’s cup with both hands and take my first sip with gusto through its red straw. It was as tasty as ever! Peanut-butter and chocolate was, and still is, my favorite milkshake flavor. It’s the one flavor that Pops has never sold at his malt shop, for he makes it 'specially for me! With each sip, I felt my brain calm down and my mood shift into a happier state than before as he asked me with calm curiosity in his voice;

“So, Angela, what da’ ya’ want to talk to your ol' man about?”

I took one more delicious sip of my drink before removin’ the straw from my mouth as I declared in my head, with my happy mood vanishing just as quickly as it came;

“Okay Angela, no sense in making him wait too long, ya’ know?”

I held the milkshake on my lap with both hands as I looked my Pops in the eye and told him the truth, even though my fear made me very hesitant to open my mouth;

“Its… about… oh darn it, it’s about Tony.”

Pops raised his right eyebrow before askin’;

“Really now? Is he givin' ya’ trouble?”

I really should have expected him to ask me that question, since my brother was known to cause trouble from time to time back then. They were small things really, nothin’ a good talkin’ to from our folks couldn’t stop. Now that I think about it, Pops probably noticed the fear in my voice when I spoke, and that alone was almost definitely enough to get him to listen to my words. Speaking of my fear, it grew to be seriously strong from the moment that I heard Pops speak, strong enough to make it harder than ever for me to give him my honest answer. The mean voice in my noggin did not help matters much either;

“Look at yourself, girl! You’re gettin’ cold feet from being under pressure, just like your brother! Best to quit now while the gettin’s good.”

Right when my own brain compared me to Tony, memories of when he treated me poorly flashed before my eyes faster than I could blink! I was frozen in terror as I mentally watched them play out;

The times when he told me that I wasn’t all that smart.
The times when he insulted my hairstyle and clothin’.
The times when he told me that he would always be stronger than me.
The times when he kept braggin’ on and on about how he was better than me at everythin’.

That last set of memories was what finally set me off, for, in a fit of pent-up frustration, I tightly shut my eyes and belted out to Pops as loud as my young vocal cords could allow;

“YA’ DARN RIGHT HE’S CAUSIN’ HIS LITTLE SISTER TROUBLE!”

            I kept my eyes closed as I took slow, deep, heavy breaths. I felt angry, yet, relieved as well. Angry at Tony over every bad thing that he said and did to me, and relieved that I had finally, finally, found the guts to tell someone about what was goin’ on. I kept a firm grip on my milkshake, even though my arms shook a little. Honestly, I could barely keep myself from crying at that point. Within seconds of me yelling my butt off, I felt the warm arms of my Pops quickly and carefully wrap around my waist as he gave me a gentle hug while telling me in a soft, loving voice;

“There, there, my dear Sugar Pop. Ya’ can tell your Pops all about it, if ya’ want.”

His hug and kind words were enough to almost make me let go and cry, but I held my tears back because I wanted to talk with my friends and my Pops about my problem first, ya’ know? So, after huggin’ it out for what felt like a minute, he released me from his hug as I told him softly while lookin’ him in the eye once again;

“I’ll tell ya’ about… what’s been happenin’, but I got me some new friends who are comin’ to the shop today. When they get ‘ere, I’ll tell all of ya’, okay?”

I looked down at the floor and off to the side out of nervousness and shame, as I was expectin’ him to reprimand me for mouthing off so loudly. But instead, he told me sweetly;

“Okay, Angela. When your friends arrive, then we’ll talk.”

            I love my Pops so much. He can be so understandin’ and patient with me, ya’ know? It also helped that the malt shop was not open yet, so no customer could hear me yell. After taking a few more moments to calm my but down, I helped finish up the mornin' prep. Edmondo and Celeste did not chime in during that… fiasco of a talk between Pops and me, as ya’ might have noticed. They told me as we were workin’ that they did not want to interrupt Big Tony when he was parentin’, which I understood. They did give me words of encouragement after the talk was over, though, which I appreciated quite a bit, ya’ know? It wasn’t long before the malt shop’s doors opened, allowin’ a whole group of customers to come pourin' in for their mornin’ breakfast, which was my cue to get back on my stool to watch my family at work. My Pops, ya’ see, insisted that I didn’t do too much work during business hours, since the workload could get pretty intense when the customers were around, ya’ know? That, and I was a kid, so he refused to make me go through this miserable thing called ‘child labor’. Yeah, I looked up the term myself one time, and… oh boy, am I glad that he never pulled that on me!

            Sometimes, when the customers are eatin’ their meals and chattin’ it up about somethin’ or other, I like to walk around the malt shop to check up on them. Ya’ know, to see if their food and drinks are to their likin’ and do some chattin’ of my own as well. That was exactly what I did after about ten minutes of watchin' from my stool. Thankfully for me, a lot of the customers really liked it when I paid them a visit. I think it had somethin’ to do with me being so polite and nice to them, ya’ know? My favorite part was gettin’ to meet the little kids that some customers would bring with them, especially the babies. I mean, can ya’ blame me? Babies are so cute and lovable, ya’ know? Anyway, I was minglin’ with this family of four that had two boys, with one of them wearin' a large pair of red headphones that were plugged into, and I kid ya' not, a Walkman! Walkmens were old music players from the 1980s (released in 1979 to be precise) that used small compact cassette tapes to play music, so I was amazed to see anyone use one at all, let alone a kid! I was complementin’ the kid's choice of music player when I heard a familiar voice call out to me from the malt shop’s front door;

“Greetings, Angela!”

I quickly moved my head in that direction to see Reese, Stephanie, and a tall brown adult who I had guessed was her father standin’ in front of the door. Reese was wavin’ at me with an excited smile on his face that so big that I could see his clean white teeth, while Stephanie’s smile was gentler in comparison, with her mouth being closed. The adult, who was standin’ behind them, gave off a warm, polite expression. I quickly said goodbye to the family of four and ran over to my friends to welcome them properly.

            I really shouldn’t have run when I did, but my excitement kept me from thinkin’ straight, ya’ know? I successfully ran most of the way over to my friends before trippin’ on my right foot. I managed to stop myself from fallin’ flat on my face by quickly aimin’ my opened left hand at the floor beneath me to catch myself palm-first. I then carefully got back up and walked the rest of the way while genuinely laughin’ it off. As I shook my friends’ hands, I apologized to them for being a bit of a klutz;

“Sorry about that, guys. My right foot got injured pretty badly when I was born, and my balance has been messed up ever since.”

Reese responded with a hint of concern in his voice;

“You have a physical disability, then? Well, at least you are able to walk at all, my friend.”

I smiled while feelin’ pretty darn good over his kind words as I told him honestly;

“Exactly! Yeah, I know I can’t run too much or too fast without trippin’ on my two left feet, but that won’t stop me from goin’ where I want to, ya’ know?”

All four of us had a good laugh over my words as I guided my friends and their older guardian to their table, with help from Edmondo, who typically served as the waiter in the Malt Shop during the morning hours. Once they were seated and Edmondo left to get their glasses of water, I sat down on the empty seat next to Stephanie’s right side at the right end of the table, with Reese and the adult sittin’ respectively at the left end. With that, the adult introduced himself as Greg Morgan. Apparently, I had guessed right, for he really was Stephanie’s father! After showin’ my friends props by tellin’ him how nice they were while they were at my house yesterday, I excitedly called for Pops to come on down and keep his promise;

“Yo, Pops! Get your butt over ‘ere, why don’t ya’?!”

It took him a few minutes to get out of the kitchen and grab an extra chair to take with him to our table. He placed his chair in front of the side between us and sat down to talk. Much to my joy, he had the milkshake that I had left on my stool by accident!

“Oops, sorry Pops!”, I told him with a slight giggle as I reached out to grab my shake.

He laughed a little himself before declarin’ with a wink;

“It’s alright, Sugar Pop. Just be mindful of your drinks, are we clear?”

I nodded my head as told him calmly before takin’ another sip of my drink;

“Yes, Pops.”

He nodded back before looking at each of us with a polite smile. He then announced confidently;

“A friend of my daughter’s is a friend of mine. Now, I heard from Angela ‘ere that she’s got somethin’ to say to us.”

He looked over at me with an expression that oozed with fatherly encouragement before tellin’ me gently;

“Let’s hear it then, Sugar Pop.”

            My fear came back for round two right then and there, but at that point, when I was surrounded by four truly good people, I could not help but find the strength to push through that feelin’ as I looked at each of their faces, which gave off varyin’ levels of anticipation and support, and told them the painful truth.

“Where do I even begin…?”, I began with a resigned sigh.

After takin’ a moment to decide on what to say next, I explained nervously;

“Ya’ see, I love my brother Tony very much. I mean, he’s family, ya’ know? But…”

I looked down at the table out of sadness and, though I hate to admit it, a bit a shame as I continued;

“As much as I love him, I gotta be honest about what he’s been doin’…”

I felt my old man place his left hand on my shoulder with gentle care, which drove me to look over at his direction while lookin’, and feelin’, really sad over my situation. With a fatherly smile, he told me;

“It’s okay, Sugar Pop. Ya’ can tell us what that brother of yours has been up to.”

My shame, sadness, and fear grew stronger as I exclaimed to him without being loud enough to bother the other customers;

“But that’s the thing, Pops! If I tell any of ya’, I’ll be rattin’ him out, and no Delvecchio should ever rat out one of their own, ya’ know?”

That, right there, was one of the reasons why I took so long to tell someone about what was goin' on, but a girl can only be pushed so far before she blows her top, ya' know? I then turned my head to face Stephanie as quickly as a race car, who was lookin’ mighty concerned at this point, and went on with a softer tone after takin’ another breath;

“But still, I gotta tell someone about him bein’… bein’…”

My fear, sadness, and shame became so strong by that point, that they were makin’ it very hard for me to finish my sentence. The mean voice in my head also decided to help them along;

“Oh, will ya’ quit with the bravery act and shut ya’ trap! You ain’t all that!”

My breath became short, frequent, and loud as I tried desperately to tell the truth without causing a scene in the family malt shop;

“Bein’…”

Right then and there, the mean voice went for a mental punch to the heart;

“Be quiet!”

That was the last straw, fo’ sure! The anger that I had held inside over Tony’s behavior for weeks immediately rose to the surface, overtakin’ my fear, sadness, and shame as I uttered to the kids, Greg, and Pops with the angriest indoor voice that I could deliver;

“No, I won’t be quiet when Tony is bein’ mean to me!”

            When I finished speakin’, I felt myself begin to cry like there was a bunch of onions bein’ cut from under my nose. After findin' the guts to open up about my problem, I just couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, ya’ know? I didn’t make much noise when I was sobbin’, other than the sniffin’ and heavy breathin’ that I was doin’. I could hear a bunch of seats being moved around as my three new friends and my ol' man came up to me and comforted me as best as they could. Pops gave me a lovin’ hug from behind, which I had always liked, while Reese gently held my left hand and Stephanie held my right hand. Since there was no room left for Greg to hug me too, he just carefully moved his right hand over to the top of my head to give me three sweet pats. They didn’t say a word. Nah, they just comforted me in silence until I finished cryin’ my young eyes out. Sometimes, helpin’ someone without saying a darn thing can be enough, ya’ know?

It took me what felt like two minutes for me to calm down. Durin’ that time, I felt myself relax into the support those four good folks were givin’ me and just, ya’ know, allow my tears to fall. Believe me, I really needed to cry, and if anyone tells ya’ that cryin’ is for babies, then they are just plain wrong, ya’ know? Anyway, after I recovered, Greg, Steph, Reese, and Pops returned to their seats, with Pops tellin’ me sweetly;

“We’re here for ya’, Sugar Pop, and don’t ya’ worry about Tony.”

A devious smile grew on his face as he declared;

“When your Ma’ and I are done with him, he’ll be singin’ a very different tune!”

Hearin’ those words warmed my heart, and Stephanie’s own kind words only added to that lovely feelin’;

“You got my support, Angela. No matter what Tony does, I’ll stand with you.”

“I second that notion!”, Reese proudly announced, with Greg declaring an enthusiastic;

“Third for me, thank you!”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud over how great they were being to me before I told them with a smile;

“Like I said to my two new friends before, ya’ all are alright, ya’ know?”

With that, we discussed the Vec problem in more detail, with Stephanie notin’ with a resigned shake of her head;

“Now, playground bullies, I understand. Schoolyard bullies too. But I’ve never imagined that anyone could have a bully in their own family, let alone in their own home!”

Reese nodded his head while solemnly chimin’ in;

“Nor have I, Stephanie.”

He then turned his attention over to Pops and asked him;

“Mr. Delvecchio, how exactly are you and Angela’s mother going to stop Tony for good?”

I had already made a very funny guess in my head as to what he had in mind for my brother. But what Pops had said instead threw me for a loop. He looked over at me and explained with a mischievous smile;

“Ma’ and I will make sure that he gets what’s comin’ to him. But it wouldn’t be fair if we didn’t give Sugar Pop first crack at givin’ my foolish son some well-deserved Delvecchio-style crud over his behavior.”

My nerves shot through the roof when I heard those words. My father, my Pops, was suggestin’ that I stand up to my bully! Before my own parents could discipline him, no less! I could not help but stumble on my words for a bit before speakin’ in a clear, yet nervous voice while lookin’ at Pops with wide eyes;

“Now hold on for a second ‘ere! I’m glad that my friends and family are backin’ me up, but…”

My fear came back with a vengeance to prevent me from finishin’ my thought. I looked away from Pops to hide the shame that I was feelin’ over being so scared of facin’ my brother. But my ol’ man saw right through me, for he asked me with that soothin’, fatherly voice of his that had encouraged me so many times before;

“Sugar Pop, level with me, are ya' gonna spend the rest of your life keepin’ your mouth shut over what’s botherin’ ya', or are ya’ gonna do somethin’ about it?”

I froze in place as my brain turned completely quiet for ten seconds before a single thought came up. It was a thought that grew louder and repeated itself over and over again as memories of happier times played out inside of my mind. Times when Tony was actually good to me, ya' know? Those memories drove me to look back at Pops and tell him that thought word for word with certainty in my voice, courage in my heart, and a confident glare that could shatter glass;

“I’m done bein’ silent out of fear.”

That was the truth. It really hard for me to tell that truth out loud, but it had to be told, if nothin’ else but for my own sake. For weeks, that knucklehead Vec had made me keep my mouth shut through his name-callin’, insult-throwin’, and ego-strokin’. But no more, I thought to myself, as I looked over at each of the people who chose to support me and softly declared so that only they could hear my words;

“Ya’ know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna give that brother of mine the kind of lip that he won’t soon forget, ‘cause I’m sick of him treatin’ me like dirt, ya’ know?”

Right when finished my sentence, an idea had struck in my head like a bolt of lightning. This idea got me to express a small sideways smile that anyone who knew me could recognize as a sign that I was lookin’ to have some fun. So, of course Pops was the first one to notice this, as he asked me;

“What’s gotten you so darn smiley all of a sudden?”

I giggled a little before tellin’ him;

“Remember what ya’ said about makin’ Tony sing a different tune? That gives me an idea on how I want to get back at him.”

With a mischievous wink, I turned my attention back over to my Steph, Greg, and Reese before explainin’ calmly;

“I’ll tell ya’ what I got in mind, but not here. We got a lot of ears in the malt shop today, and I don’t know most of the people who have ‘em, if ya’ catch my meanin’.”

I saw Steph and Reese move their heads to look around before turning back to face me, with Steph sayin’ softly;

“I get what you mean, Angela. We can talk more about this at your place if that is okay with the two dads at our table.”

All three of us kids looked at Greg and Pops as they stared at each other for a moment before nodding their heads in unison. Pops then told us sweetly;

“Friends of our dear Angela are welcome at our home. I’ll make sure that Ma’ is up to date on what’s goin’ on.”

I made sure to give my Pops a big hug for bein’ so helpful and awesome! I love my Pops so much, ya’ know?

            With that, we chatted it up some more about some other topics while eatin’ some good food. Pops made sure to head back to the kitchen after our Tony discussion was dealt with, ‘cause he had a malt shop to run, ya’ know? Steph had a delicious hot-dog with ketchup, mustard, and melted cheese, while Reese chowed down on a double-cheese burger with ketchup, lettuce, and mayonnaise. As for little ol’ me, I finished up my milkshake and enjoyed a lovely plate of spaghetti with meatballs and parmesan cheese lightly sprinkled on the noodles, which my cousin Edmondo had served up to me. He told me that it was a gift from Pops, who figured I could use a tasty treat. The smell of that delicious tomato sauce mixed with that yummy pasta was to die for! Big Tony’s Malt Shop’s menu, ya’ see, had a wide variety of foods, even though our Italian-style family recipes (and our milkshakes) were the most heavily advertised of the bunch, ‘cause not everyone has the taste-buds for fine Italian cuisine, ya’ know? That, and my Pops needed to help keep the lights on back home.

After finishin’ up our meals, Greg, with Pops’ blessin’, led my friends and I to his mini-van to take us to my place. I walked through the front door of the house to see my Ma’ doin’ some jumpin’ jacks in the livin’ room. She instantly stopped once she saw me come in with my friends behind me and smiled with an embarrassed blush as she said in a welcomin’ tone;

“It’s good to see you and your new friends, dear. How are things at the shop?”

“Great, Ma’! Pops will tell ya’ all about it when he gets home.”, I told her with a smile of my own as I escorted Steph and Reese to my bedroom. As we walked towards the hallway, I could hear Ma’ ask me with a louder voice that reached my ears all the way from the livin’ room;

“Call me curious, but what kind of fun do you have planned?”

With that sideways smile from earlier, I raised my right arm to wave at her as I walked while saying out loud in a proud, excited tone;

“The best kind!”

I was about half-way to my door when I heard Ma’ say somethin’ that made me freeze out of dread, albeit for a moment;

“Just so you and your friends know, Tony just called to tell me that he’s on his way home from his friends’ house. Apparently, he ate something he shouldn’t have and now his friend’s dad is driving him home.”

The first part of that announcement made me scared out of my wits, but the rest of it took my fears and ate them for lunch. Since Tony was sick, I figured, he wouldn’t be able to bother us even if he tried, which was great for what I wanted to do. Joy took my dread’s place as I guided my friends into my room once again.

            Once Reese and Steph sat on two of the seats in the room, I planted my butt on the edge of my bed and began our discussion;

“Okay, ‘eres the plan; make no mistake about it, I’m gonna give Tony lip. But first, I want to show him somethin’ that’s really important to me.”

Steph, with a raised eyebrow, asked politely;

“What are you going to show him?”

With a mischievous grin and a confident giggle, I told her;

“That no matter what he says, no matter what he does, I’ll always be good at somethin’! As for what that somethin’ is…”

As my two friends paid close attention to me, I inhaled deeply and, with some of my Italian gusto, belted out a lovely singin’ voice that took them by surprise. I started by singin’ a single low note and slowly went up to higher notes from there, all the way to the highest note that I could sing without hurtin’ anyone’s ears. I then slowly went back down each note to the lowest one and stopped. By the way, this was all done in one breath!

I looked at Reese and Steph to wait for their reactions. Their eyes were wide with shock for a moment before Reese’s face quickly grew a big smile as he exclaimed in celebration;

“That was amazing, Angela! Bravo!”

Steph joined in by raisin’ a fist bump to the air and declared with cheer in her voice;

“I had no idea that you could sing!”

Just for fun, I took a bow like I was on stage at a concert. While I was doing this, Steph asked me in a calmer voice than before;

“Your plan is to sing, right?”

After straightenin’ my body back up from my bowin’, I gave my friends another smile and explained to them;

“Oh, that’s just part one of my plan. Ya’ see, once a week at the malt shop, my Pops sets up Karaoke Night for the customers to sing their favorite tunes. Tomorrow is Karaoke Night, which gives me the chance to show Tony up by singin’ my heart out, right in front of his face! He keeps talkin’ about how I can’t sing even if my life depended on it, so I’m gonna prove him wrong, ya’ know?”

I could see a positively devious smile grow on Steph’s face as she uttered in anticipation;

“Ohhhh, I can’t wait to see the look on that jerk’s face when he sees you sing with skill!”

Reese then asked me while holding his chin with his right hand in thought;

“Have you picked out a song yet, friend?”

I nodded at him enthusiastically and told him out of sheer excitement;

“I know exactly what song to sing, and its one that I’ve been practicin’ for fun whenever Tony was away. I’ll tell my Ma’ and Pops what I’m gonna do, and they’ll set things up for me, because I want to make this a big ol’ surprise for my big brother, ya’ know?”

They both nodded in agreement, with Steph noting with glee and a sly grin;

“Once you’re finished with part one, I can imagine how part two is going to play out!”

With a hearty laugh, I responded excitedly;

“Yeah, I can see it now; me, verbally rakin’ Tony across the coals!”

We all had a good laugh together over that idea for a solid minute before calmin’ down. As we cooled our heads, I felt my fear rise to the surface again. With a breath, I told them out of natural honesty, with a slightly solemn voice;

“It’s not gonna be easy for me to stand up to him, ya’ know? But…”

I felt my courage grow strong enough to smush that fear into a pancake as I finished my thought while lookin’ at each my friends with a fiery glare;

“I know, without a doubt, that I’ll do exactly that, fo’ sure!”

            Before I knew it, Karaoke Night had arrived, and I found myself sittin’ next to Ma’ on the passenger’s seat in her car. Before that night, I had talked it over with my parents without Tony knowin’ about it. Poor Pops had to hold Ma’ back from chargin’ into Tony’s room to discipline him until she could be reasoned with! After much discussin’, and two big hugs from each of them, they agreed to help me with my plan. I was bein’ taken to the malt shop by Ma’, but not before we waited until Pops’ had let us know through a text to her phone that Tony, Steph, Greg, and Reese had arrived there (Pops had already taken my brother to the shop via his own car). Thank goodness, Ma’ was able to get extra time off from work, or else I would have had to wait an entire week before doin’ this, ya’ know? As part of the plan, I was wearin’ a black kid-sized cloak over my overalls and skirt, so that I could walk through the shop without Tony seein’ me. It used to be a part of my Halloween costume from the year before then, so I was lucky that it could still fit me. When we arrived and stepped out of the mini-van, I made sure to wait for Ma’ to get inside first, so that she could keep Tony distracted while I slipped in soon after. After waitin’ for a minute or two, I slowly walked through the front door. The main area of the shop had dimly lit lights scattered about to make sure that the place was safe to walk through without anyone trippin’ and fallin’, but with Ma’ doin’ her thing at Tony’s table, I was able to sneak my way past him and over to the table where Steph, Greg, and Reese were sittin’ at to quietly sit down at the empty seat next to Steph. I could hear her barely hold back her excitement-induced giggles, which was a sign to me that she knew who was sittin’ with her. With a soft exhale, I sat back to enjoy the show.

            Durin’ nights like this, Pops likes to bring in local DJs to add some instrumental flair to the singin’. As a show of support, He always makes sure to have a fully decked out DJ Station set up to the right of the karaoke space on every single Karaoke Night. Tonight, was certainly no different, as I could see the station as clear as day from my chair. The space itself included a wide-screen TV that showed the lyrics of the songs, two big speakers at each side of the TV to play the songs proudly, and a mic that came complete with a tall mic stand that stood in front of the TV. The stand could be raised and lowered in size to account for a singer’s height. Tonight’s DJ, from what I saw, was the kind of person that I did not expect to see in this place. Playin’ music from behind the station was a kid; a young boy who looked to be around my age, with a blue cap, a red shirt, skin that looked slightly darker than mine, slightly squinty eyes, and, to my surprise, a light blue wheelchair that he was sittin’ on! I refused to make any assumptions about why he was using a wheelchair, and as I watched him work his musical magic, I made sure to remember to speak with him one day, because he was givin’ off some darn good vibes, ya’ know? It was a lot of fun seein’ a whole bunch of people sing karaoke songs, with the DJ addin’ his own twists to the music from time to time. Some of them were pretty good singers, others were okay at best. Of course, there were also a few who were… well… yeah, I’m not gonna lie, they were terrible singers! But that’s the thing about karaoke; it doesn’t matter how good, or bad, you are at singin’. As long as you’re havin’ fun, then it’s all good, ya’ know? Eventually, however, the time for watchin’ ended as my Pops proudly announced from the corner of the shop that was to the right of my table with a mic of his own;

“Yo, ladies and gentle Glintstones! Thank ya’ all for comin’ to our weekly karaoke fun, and a big thanks to tonight’s DJ; DJ K-Man!”

I saw DJ K-Man nod his head to the applaudin’ customers as Pops went on with gusto;

“Now, our next performer wanted so badly to sing tonight, that they asked to do so in advance!"

I could hear the customers reacting with their ‘oooohhh’s and ‘wooooah’s, which made me smile over the whole situation as Pops continued to build the hype;

“I know, right? I mean, since when does THAT happen for karaoke? Well, ya’ know that I like me some pleasant surprises, and this performer has one lined up fo' all of ya’! So, please give them a big hand as they walk up to the mic!”

That was my cue to get off my seat and make my way over to the mic stand while keepin’ my face hidden from pryin’ eyes, especially Tony’s. I could hear the customers clap and cheer for me as I walked. I stopped at a few inches from the stand as I watched Pops walk up to it, pull the mic out, and hand it over to me. As I took the mic into my right hand, I also noticed him do somethin’ else; he lowered the stand so that it reached up to my lips. After he finished his work, he walked back over to me and gave me a warm smile and a supportive wink that eased my nerves, which were growin’ fast. Not even they could overpower my confidence though, which was stronger than any insult that anyone could throw at me at that moment. Pops then turned back around to address the audience as he returned to his corner;

“Now then, their song of choice is an old classic from the legendary band, ‘Queen’! Make some noise for our mysterious performer as they attempt to sing ‘Another One Bites the Dust’!”

            After the crowd gave another round of applause, I lowered my head to face the floor, turned around so that the front of my body was aimed at the tables, allowed my hands to rest at my sides with mic in hand, and waited for the song to start. I didn’t need the see the lyrics, because I knew them by heart. I closed my eyes and pretended, for a moment, that Tony wasn’t there, that I was in my room with no one around to listen. I had no problems with performin’ in front of people, but I figured that playin’ a little bit of pretend would help calm my nerves early on. I was right, because once that song’s signature beat started to echo throughout the malt shop, I felt my right foot tap to its rhythm out of sheer instinct. With a playful smile, I allowed myself to be moved by the music, just a little, so that I could keep my face hidden for a bit longer, and when the time came, I raised the mic to my mouth and started to sing. My singin’ was not at the professional level, but it was on key and I was performin’ with skill and style throughout the whole thing! As for the song itself, the first part went a little somethin’ like this;

Oh!
Let’s go!

Steve walks warily down the street
With the brim pulled way down low
Ain’t no sound but sound of his feet
Machine guns ready to go

Are ya’ ready? Hey, are ya’ ready for this?
Are ya’ hangin’ on the edge of your seat?
Out of the doorway, the bullets rip
To the sound of the beat, yeah

Another one bites the dust
Another one bites the dust
And another one gone, and another one gone
Another one bites the dust, yeah
Hey, I’m gonna get ya’ too
Another one bites the dust

At this point in the song, with the rockin' instrumental portion blarin’ from the speakers, I smoothly moved my way over to the mic stand with my back facing the audience, quickly fitted the mic into the slot with care and aimed it at my lips. I then grabbed the middle of the stand with both hands and, just as the next set of lyrics were about to come in, I sharply moved my head back to push the hood of my cloak off to reveal my hair, and turned myself around with the stand still in my hands to face the surprised audience and sang my heart out;

How do ya’ think that I’m gonna get along
Without ya’ when I’m gone?!
Ya’ took me for everything thing that I had
And kicked me out on my own!

Are ya’ happy, are ya’ satisfied?!
How long can ya’ stand the heat?!
Out of the doorway, the bullets rip
To the sound of the beat! Look out!

Another one bites the dust!
Another one bites the dust!
And another one gone, and another one gone!
Another one bites the dust!
Hey, I’m gonna get ya’ too!
Another one bites the dust!

From here on out, I had surrendered to the beat entirely, as I was dancin’ around to the second instrumental portion while doin’ my best Freddie Mercury impression with the mic stand! Through the song, DJ K-Man was addin’ his own spin to it from his station in ways that drove me to keep on dancin’ and singin’. The song itself was already a killer track, but his additions made it sound, and feel, more groovy and lively than ever, fo' sure! I could catch glimpses of him bobbin’ his head to the beat and havin’ a darn good time as I danced. When we got to the second instrumental portion, he was goin’ to town with the sounds that he could play, just as I goin’ to town with my own performance! The audience was havin’ a ball by then, as they were all clappin’ to the beat. Thankfully, I had the good sense to return to reality when I needed to sing, even as I was dancin’;

Hey!
Oh, take it!
Bites the dust!
Bites the dust!

Hey!

Just before the next set of lyrics came, I brought my mind back to Earth, planted the mic stand on the floor in front of me with a great thud that was perfectly timed up with the song, and sang passionately while holdin’ on to the stand for dear life;

Another one bites the dust
Another one bites the dust, OWW!
Another one bites the dust, hey! hey!
Another bites the dust, heeeeeeeyeeeyeeeyeeyeeyeey!
Oooohhhh, shoot out!

With a giant smile on my face, I tilted that stand forward Freddie Mercury style, and did what I had wanted to do for a long time, and that was to sing this next part directly to Tony’s shocked face while givin’ him a glare that just screamed ‘Ya’ can’t stop me and ya’ know it!’. Yes, I took some creative liberties with the lyrics here, but can ya’ blame me? This was important;

There are plenty of ways that ya’ can hurt a girl
And bring her to the ground!
Ya’ can beat her, ya’ can cheat her, ya’ can treat her bad
And leave her when she’s down!

But, I’m ready, yes, I’m ready for ya’!
I’m standin’ on my own two feet!
Out of the doorway the bullets rip
Repeatin’ to the sound of the beat, oh yeah!

Another one bites the dust!
Another one bites the dust!
And another one gone, and another one gone!
Another one bites the dust, yeah!
Hey, I’m gonna get ya’ too!
Another one bites the dust!

I picked up the stand and carried it around while keepin’ the mic up to my lips as I danced around some more. With a smile, I finished up my singin’;

Shoot out!
Eeh-hey!
Alright!

I struck a cool pose right when the song ended while facin’ the crowd, quick as a flash, by spreadin’ my legs out a bit, raisin’ my left hand to point its index finger up to the sky, and lowerin’ my head to face my right hand, which was raised up a bit with mic held firmly in hand. The audience erupted in applause, cheerin’, whistlin’, and clappin’ to celebrate my performance. I got out of my pose to look around the shop; so many people were happy in that moment! Steph, Greg, and Reese where chantin’ ‘Angela! Angela! Angela!’, while I could barely hear Ma’ braggin’ about her daughter’s singin’ skills to other folks over the cheerin’. I looked over at Pops, who was whistlin’ the hardest out of everyone else in the buildin’. I then feasted my eyes on a positively annoyed Tony, who had his arms crossed and was givin’ me one angry glare, let me tell ya’! When I saw that glare, the first thing that came to my head was a confident;

“Yeah, take that, Vec!”

            It felt really good to hear a nice voice in my head that time, and it felt even better to know that I did a great job that night! After placing the mic stand back on its spot and takin’ a bow, I walked over to DJ K-Man to give him a thumbs up and tell him calmly;

“Ya' made that classic sound cooler than ever, kid.”

He tipped the front of his cap with a gentle smile as a show of silent appreciation. With that out of the way, I made my way back to my table, but not before almost knockin’ the darn stand over! I got a few supportive laughs from the audience for that, which I appreciated. My friends showered me with compliments as I returned to my seat, with Greg throwin’ in a few of his own, to all of which I replied;

“Easy, guys! I’m tryin’ to stay humble ‘ere!”

We enjoyed the show until it was time for everyone to head home for the night. Before sayin’ goodbye, I told Steph, Greg, and Reese with a barrel-load of gratitude in my heart, confidence in my voice, and sweetness in my smile;

“I just wanna say; thank ya’ so much for being there for me when my brother wouldn’t. With my parents backin’ me up though, I think I can take him from ‘ere, ya’ know?”

I gave them a wink before suggestin’;

“But you’re welcome to be there for me at my place too, if ya’ want.”

All three of them accepted the offer with gusto and smiles. With that dealt with, we gave each other a group hug and went back to my house.

            For the sake of waitin’ until the four of us were at home before they could let Tony and me be within yellin’ distance of each other, Ma’ and Pops made sure that we each rode in separate cars. I rode with Ma’ to the malt shop earlier, so I got to ride with Pops to the house, while Tony had to be within smackin’ distance of Ma’. I was imagin’ him sweatin’ bullets for the whole trip as I relaxed on the passenger’s seat. Obviously, ol’ Greg was takin’ Steph and Reese in his mini-van. Durin’ the weeks when I was bein’ bullied, I had a heck of a hard time relaxin’, out of fear that if I did for even a moment, Tony would come around and ruin it for me. But as I allowed my body to sink into the seat, I felt that, at last, I could let myself rest a little. Yeah, it was only for a short time, and I deliberately chose to not relax completely, but still, it felt like Heaven to me, ya’ know?

            It wasn’t long before I wound up in our home’s livin’ room alongside Tony, with our parents sittin’ down on the sofa together. My two friends stood by me to my right, with Tony standin’ to my left. Without even givin’ him a chance to speak, I looked over at my brother with a stink eye that could break mirrors and commanded him with a serious, and slightly angry, voice while pointin’ my right index finger at him, at me, and then at the hallway that led to our rooms as I spoke;

“You and me. My room. Now!”

I immediately stomped through the room, down the hall, and into my room, my anger over his behavior boilin’ over as I slammed the door behind me. I sat down on the edge of my bed, took several deep breaths to calm my butt down, and waited while keepin’ my eyes fixed on the bedroom door. After everything that I’d been through, I was not gonna run away from this like some chicken, not when I was so close to puttin’ my bully problem to bed! It took about a minute for Tony to walk into the room and close the door behind him. He was lookin’ pretty confused and agitated over what was goin’ on, so I decided in my head to take a calm approach, at first. Oh, I wanted to scream at him, but more than that, I needed him to know what he did, and how much damage he had caused to his sister. Yellin’ at the top of my lungs right at the start wouldn’t help with that, ya’ know? So, with an annoyed sigh, I asked him in fluent Italian;

“Can you guess what I want to talk to you about, brother?”

A thing that ya’ should know about me is that I usually speak in my mother tongue when I’m seriously angry over somethin’, or whenever I need to talk about private family matters. So, any Delvecchio who hears me speak in Italian, even my knucklehead of a big brother, knows to listen up. It also helped that my family members enjoyed talkin’ to each other in Italian in general. Tony knew all of this perfectly well, which gave him reason enough to make an expression of fear instead of agitation on his face as he looked me in the eye for a few seconds before tellin’ me in equally fluent, and nervous soundin’, Italian;

“Ya’ want to brag about your singin’ to my face?”

I allowed myself to laugh a little, even though I was getting’ more annoyed with him by the second, before givin’ him my response;

“Temptin’, but no. Guess again.”

His agitation came back as his confusion became more obvious as time passed. After a minute of silence, he told me with an annoyed tone;

“Eh, I got nothin’.”

“Seriously?!”, I thought to myself as my anger came roarin’ back with a vengeance;

“Ya' honestly can’t connect the dots now?!”

I had to use every bit of my self-control to hold myself back from ragin’ at him verbally, but I could not stop myself from givin’ Tony the most furious look that my face could create, like a stare of death, ya’ know? I could see him lookin’ both surprised and terrified all at once over this as he asked me while holdin' both of his hands up to his chest and takin' two steps back away from me out of fear;

“Hey now, Sugar Pop, what’s gotten up your butt?”

At this point, I could not hold myself back any longer. I was done. Done with him. Done with his ignorance. Done with his arrogance. Done with his cruelty. Just! Plain! Done! The fury that I spewed out from my mouth as I sharply got off of my bed, stood up straight, and viciously yelled at him may as well have been born from the fires of heck itself;

“Ya' are what’s gotten up my butt, Tony! That’s right, YOU!”

I pointed and wagged my right index square at his shocked face as he leaned back while keepin' his hands up, clearly taken aback and positively frightened by my outburst. Tony always did crumble when under pressure. Honestly, though, I could not care less about his reaction, ‘cause I was far from finished with expressin’ myself to him;

“For weeks, I’ve had to put up with ya' blabbin’ on and on about being stronger than me, smarter than me, better than me! Better than me, ya’ say?! Fool, I’ve been better than ya’ since I was three-years-old, ya’ know?! Oh, of course ya’ know about that! I mean, how could ya’ not, since I’m better at readin’, writin’, fixin’ up your VCR’s clock, gettin’ good grades at school, singin’, and a whole bunch of other cool stuff! But do ya’ hear me braggin’ about doing cool stuff all day and every day? Do ya' see me shovin’ my ego in someone else’s face? No, ‘cause I have this thing called ‘humility’, ya’ know?!”

I stretched my arms out to my sides while exclaimin’ furiously;

“Now, why do ya’ gotta go and put me down with your insults and demeanin’?! Huh?! I mean, how does doin’ that help ya’, me, or anyone else?! I ask ‘cause I remember when you were good to me, Tony!”

My rage gave way to a powerful, deep-rooted sadness that was buildin’ up from the moment that he had started bullin’ me as tears began to stream from my eyes during my speech. I could see the guy begin to sweat as he kept his body arched backward. My voice began to crack and shake a little as I continued with unrelentin’ passion;

“Yeah, you’ve always had an ego the size of Texas, but there was a time when ya’ treated your little sister with respect and brotherly love! Why stop that, Tony?! Last I checked, we’re family, ya’ know?! Now, I feel like I lost the brother who loved me and he got replaced by some jerk with a pompadour! What are Ma’ and Pops gonna say about ya’ makin’ me think that I’m nothin’, when I’m someone?! What would our Uncle-?!”

I stopped yellin’ right then and there. My body froze in place for a moment or two before I had let my arms fall to my sides. My tear-ridden eyes grew wide while I stared at Tony, who looked even more shocked and horrified than before, as I suddenly realized something about this whole fiasco that I hadn’t before. I then slowly reached into the front pocket of my overalls with my right hand and pulled out that item that I told ya’ about earlier. Now, more than ever, it’s time that I told ya’ what it was; a necklace that carried one half of a stainless-steel cross that was cut evenly down the middle and was small enough to hold in my hand. I held the necklace’s black string tight in my hand, allowing the half-cut-cross to dangle from under it as I stretched out my right arm straight towards Tony to give him a better look. I watched his eyes grow wider than mine as I asked him in a soft and truly miserable tone, with a look on my face that oozed with weeks’ worth of sadness and pain;

“What would the Uncle who gave us this cross say about ya’ hurtin’ your little sister?”

            Tony straightened himself back up, allowed his hands to drop down to his sides, and stared at me with a glare that slowly transformed from horror into an expression that I had never seen before. He didn’t look angry, scared, or even annoyed. I could tell from how wide his eyes had grown that he was seriously shocked over what he had heard. He was lookin’ at me, yes, but it was as if he wasn’t really lookin’ at me, ya’ know? He kept that expression on his face going for a whole five seconds before quickly turnin’ his back on me, which prompted me to say with painful resentment in my voice as I did the same;

“Yeah, at least you’re thinkin’ about what ya’ did…”

Not even my own pain could keep me from seein’ that he too was upset over what had happened. But at that point, I had no more interest in talkin’ with him. So, after what felt like five, maybe ten seconds of silence, I softly told him with old frustration filling every word and syllable;

“I want you to leave my room.”

I could hear his footsteps as he walked out of the bedroom and slammed the door shut. I jumped onto my bed, shoved my face on my pillow and wept on it. All of my pain and misery was poured onto that pillow at that moment, muffled cries and all. Even as I tell this story, ages after it went down, it’s still tough for me to talk about how hard it was for me to not just put up with Tony’s crud, but also to tell him how I felt about the whole fiasco. At the end of the day, Tony’s family, but no family deserves to go through problems like this, ya’ know? I guess that’s another reason why I tried to put an end to that problem…

            As if on cue, my door opened again and I heard two sets of feet runnin’ up to me in a hurry. I could hear Steph’s comfortin’ voice as she attempted to soothe my head and heart;

“You did a great job, Angela.”

Reese chimed in with his friendly voice and polite demeanor;

“It’s okay to cry, friend. We are here for you.”

I cried for what felt like an eternity, although Steph told me later on that I did so for five minutes. Apparently, Reese was keepin’ track of the time. After recoverin’ from my sobbin’, I got up from the now tear-stained pillow and sat comfortably on the edge of my bed to find that my two friends were standin’ at my bedside the whole time. With a small sideways smile, I told them sweetly in English;

“A young lady like me can’t ask for better friends. Thank ya’ again.”

Just then, I saw my door fly open as my Ma’ and Pops came runnin’ in to comfort their daughter. Ma’ quickly got on her knees to be at my level, her eyes almost as watery as mine, and wrapped her arms around me with gentleness and care to hold me close while givin' me some honest words in a motherly tone that was filled with sadness and love;

“Oh, our dearest Angie! I’m so sorry for not noticing what Tony was doing to you!”

“We both are, Sugar Pop," said Pops with a solemn voice as he carefully stroked the top of my head, which felt really relaxin’ to my brain.

I made sure to give them both hugs of my own as I told them with the biggest smile that I could muster and love in my heart;

“It’s all good, ya’ two! I was too good at hidin’ my problems, ya’ know?”

After the huggin’ stopped, Ma’ took both of my hands, looked me in the eye, and gave me some good advice;

“Now, whenever something is bothering you, anything at all, you can tell your family and friends about it. Okay?”

“Yes, Ma’," I told her, my big smile refusin’ to vanish.

Holdin’ my pain inside for as long as I did was a terrible mistake, and I did not want to repeat it again, ya’ know? Pops then announced after beltin’ out one of his deep, hearty laughs;

“We’ll leave ya’ with your friends then, since we have a son to discipline.”

I barely kept myself from laughin’ over the thought of Tony bein’ disciplined by my parents as Pops went on;

“Greg will be stickin’ around for a bit before takin’ them home. It’s dark out though, so it won’t be too long before they have to leave.”

Without another word, my parents left the room one at a time, with Ma’ givin’ me one last lovin’ smile before closin’ the door.

            After I had some fun with Steph and Reese for a few minutes, Greg took them home for the night, which allowed me to get some much-needed shuteye. Durin’ the weeks when I was bullied, I found it difficult to relax my body and mind enough to sleep well. So, as ya’ can imagine, there were a few long nights here and there. Yeah, I was able to get enough sleep every night, but it wasn’t easy to do so without havin’ to sleep in a little from time to time, ya’ know? This time, however, I found it easier to let my body relax, which helped me drift off to dreamland, even though my brain was still havin’ a hard time with relaxin’ itself. I figured that my choice to confront Tony over his crud was what helped me sleep easier that time.
When the next mornin’ arrived, I was up and about while feelin’ a little drowsy from my slumber. After gettin’ my usual outfit on, only this time with a yellow shirt and skirt instead of white, I gave my hair a good brushin’ and walked over to the kitchen to grab some breakfast. I was hungry for some cereal and a banana, but what I saw took my mind off of food within seconds. Now, I was expectin’ to see my Ma’ havin’ her mornin’ coffee at the back of the kitchen table and Pops readin’ the day’s newspaper while eatin’ some breakfast of his own from his seat at the front of the table. These were the things that they normally did every morning, ya’ know? Sure enough, they were doin’ exactly that, with Pops chowin’ down on some eggs on toast. I was also expectin’ Tony to be eatin’ some cereal at the table’s left side, as per usual. Yeah, he was there too, which annoyed me, but what I wasn’t expectin’ was the two glasses of milkshakes that were standin’ opposite of each other on the table! One glass was at the left side where Tony was sittin’, while the other was at the right side where my favorite seat was. I raised my right eyebrow to show my curiosity as I glared at Tony, who looked over at me with a nervous expression. I could hear the lack of confidence in his voice as he tried, and failed, to act cool while he spoke;

“Yo, Angela! Why don’t ya’ take a seat and have a milkshake? I wanna talk to ya’ about somethin’.”

Normally, I would be all for havin’ a delicious milkshake at any time of the day. But since Tony was the one who was offerin’ me a drink, I couldn’t help but feel hesitant to take so much as a sip. Even so, our parents’ presence encouraged me to plant my butt on my seat and take my milkshake in my hand while keepin’ my eyes squared on my brother. He kept his glare, which had become both solemn and nervous, on me as well, thus helpin’ to create one doozy of a staredown between brother and sister. Parents or no parents, if he was gonna pull somethin’ on me, I wanted to catch him in the act, so that I could stop him, ya’ know? Before I could think about taste-testin’ my drink, however, I heard Pops speak up with calm firmness;

“Tony, you have somethin' important to say to your sister. When you’re ready, tell it to her.”

I kept my eyes glued on Tony’s as my brain tried to figure out what his angle was;

“What does he have to say to me that isn’t hurtful? Oh, he better not be mean to me again, if he knows what’s good for him…”

I saw his eyes look away from mine before he took a breath and aimed his gaze back at me. It was then that, with a slow and clear voice, he told me in a tone that I had never heard him use in my life until that moment;

“I… should know betta’ than to make my little sista’ cry…”

It was a tone that was filled, not with confidence or arrogance, but with humility and regret. The kind that, as my Ma’ would put it, no person could ever fake, no matter how good they were at actin’. This was the first time that I had ever seen Tony ‘Vec’ Delvecchio Jr. be genuinely humble in front of me, in front of anyone, for that matter. My eyes grew wide in shock when I heard his words and I couldn’t bring myself to talk back at him, even if I wanted to. Simply put, I was made speechless, not just by my brother’s unexpected show of humility, but also by the fact that he was openly admittin’ that he had done me wrong. Oh, but Vec was not done yet, for that depressin’ tone of his held strong as he went on;

“I should know betta’ than to hurt ya’. But, I did… I was mean to ya’, I tried to make ya’ feel like you’re nothin’…”

He was tellin’ the cold, hard truth. My heart knew that, along with most of my mind. But a small part of my brain, the part that was still angry and frightened over what he did to me, was not havin’ any of this, for I could hear my thoughts ring in my noggin after he said that last sentence;

“Ya’ darn right he hurt ya’! If he thinks that he can just say sorry and get away with bein’ a jerk, then he can think again, ya’ know?!”

Tony did not know this, but he had a good response to those thoughts all lined up and ready to go;

“I know dat sayin’ sorry won’t be good enough, not after all the trouble I caused.”

My thoughts became silent right when he said that, which allowed me to listen more closely as he continued while lookin’ down at the table below his face;

“What our parents said to me… what you said to me… they reminded me of when I was nice to you and… I’d like to get back to… ya’ know… bein’ a good brother. I mean…”

I saw his right arm wiggle on his side a little before he pulled out from the right-side pocket of his baggy pants a necklace that carried his half of the cut cross, our cut cross. He raised it up over the table by its black string and stretched out his right arm before finishin’ while givin’ me that wide-eyed stare from the day before, tears streamin’ from his eyes as he spoke with soft surety;

“The Uncle who gave us this cross would’ve given me a knuckle-sandwich for bein’ such a jerk to his niece.”

            Remember: Delvecchios show who they truly are when their backs are against the wall. By confrontin’ Tony when I did, I had shoved his back onto the wall so hard, that he had to show his true colors after that! It was rare for me to see my brother cry, let alone weep, over him doin’ somethin’ wrong. But here he was, doin’ exactly that, right in front of my face and in the same room as our parents! Now, I was a little kid back then, but even I knew a thing or two about noticin’ if someone was sheddin’ crocodile tears. Ya’ can thank our Ma’ for teachin’ me that skill. I was no expert at lie detectin’, mind ya’, but I could tell that Tony was not fakin’ it; he really was upset over hurtin’ me. Honestly, I was confused at first. Yes, I was watchin’ Tony bring his good side out in a genuine way, but I didn’t know how to react to what he was doin’. Let me put it in another way; I didn’t know whether I should have slapped him silly or hugged him tightly. But there was one thing that I quickly decided to do, in spite of my confusion. I told him calmly as I pulled out my own half-cross necklace from my overalls’ front pocket;

“I understand, Tony. I’m still mad at ya’, but if ya’ gonna give bein’ nice to me again a shot…”

I raised the necklace over the table with my right hand to reach out for his. The two halves dangled near the table’s center with some space between them as I, with my sideways smile, finished politely and with a hint of confidence;

“Then I won’t stop ya’ from tryin’.”

You can agree or disagree with my choice and I’ll respect your opinion either way. But the fact remains; I love my brother. Heck, I love my whole family, and we Delvecchios believe in second chances. Not even Tony is an exception to that, ya’ know? His miserable expression slowly transformed into that of pure happiness as he laughed heartily and announced with renewed pride;

“Thank ya’, sista! Ya’ take it from ya’ big brotha’; Tony ain’t hurtin’ ya’ anymore! Speakin’ of which, I should tell ya’ about da’ first nice thing dat’ I did for ya’ today.”

I raised my right eyebrow again and asked out of curiosity as we placed our necklaces back into our pockets;

“Really? So, what did ya’ do, Vec?”

A part of me still wishes that I had never asked him that, for Tony proudly responded while puffin’ his chest;

“I made ya’ a milkshake!”

            I immediately darted my head down to look at my drink out of both shock and instinct, just to see if there was any sign that it was dangerous for Humans! Pops had recognized this, for he told me in his sweet, fatherly voice;

“Relax, Sugar Pop! I made sure to help him out.”

That was enough to ease my fears enough to slowly, and carefully, raise my glass up to my lips to take a sip of my milkshake. No one in the house but Pops knew how to make milkshakes as delicious as his, but since he helped Tony make mine that time, I figured that it was at least safe to drink. Plus, though I did not admit this to Tony back then, I was honestly moved by my brother goin’ out of his way to make me a glass of my favorite drink ever, so it was only fair to him that I gave it the ol’ Sugar Pop taste test, ya’ know? That one sip turned into several large gulps before I put my glass back down with care, with some of its cream stayin’ just above my upper-lip it was a creamy mustache. I had a good laugh over it before givin’ Tony my verdict over the drink’s flavor and quality;

“Peanut butter and chocolate… smart choice of flavor! I gotta say…”

I paused for a moment, just to make him wait a bit longer for my verdict. I enjoyed seein’ him watch me with bated breath as I finished with a bigger smile than before;

“It ain’t terrible! I’m tastin’ way more chocolate than peanut butter, but other than that, it’s not bad.”

Tony responded by doin’ an enthusiastic fist pump with his right hand while smilin’ with pride to celebrate his success. But really, do ya’ honestly think that I was gonna let him off the hook right then and there? Not even close, for I then made it a point to tell him while usin’ a serious glare and tone that got his attention instantly;

“Listen ‘ere, this little gift of yours is not gonna excuse what ya’ did to me, ya’ understand? Ya’ hurt your sister again, and I’ll be the one who gives ya’ and your giant hair a knuckle-sandwich!”

Tony’s smile vanished as he immediately nodded in agreement while givin’ me a serious glare of his own. My sideways smile returned yet again as I added confidently;

“But like I said earlier; I ain’t gonna stop ya’ from tryin’ to be good.”

With a kind smile that he rarely used in those days, Tony raised his milkshake glass up to his head while politely tellin’ me in Italian as a show of respect;

“Thank ya’, sista.”

Without a second thought, I raised my glass up as well as I confidently responded in the same language;

“Ya’ welcome… brother.”

            I wish he didn’t ruin the moment with his ego, but this is Tony ‘Vec’ Delvecchio I’m talkin’ about;

“Bet ya’ can’t make a better milkshake than me.”, he said to me in English with that cocky smile of his as we lowered our glasses.

I gave him another sideways smirk as I asked him in English with a voice that oozed with confidence;

“Is that a challenge, Vec?”

Ya’ see, the two of us can be pretty competitive with a lot of the things that we do. Now that I think about it, while we did compete against each other over stuff before the bullyin’ started, that challenge that Tony had offered me was what really kicked it in high gear, ya’ know? Ol’ Pops was quick to stop us in our tracks, though, for he told us with a calm, yet stern parental voice;

“Children, ya’ can settle that challenge after I teach you both how to make milkshakes. I’ll let ya’ know when you’re ready. Now eat your breakfast.”

With a giggle from me, and a wink sent to me by Tony, we went back to eatin’ in peace.

            After enjoyin’ the rest of our breakfast in silence, Tony went with Pops to open up the malt shop, which gave me plenty of time to chill out in my room. I was sittin’ on the edge of my bed, with my room bein’ as quiet as a mouse. Before long, I began to reflect on that night when I sang my song, as well as the time when I told my brother how I felt about his antics. As I recalled those memories, I thought to myself;

“Yeah, I needed to do all of that.”

At that moment, somethin’ clicked in my head that caused most of the tension that I was holdin in my body to melt away. It was tension that had built up over time while Tony was bullyin’ me. Honestly, I noticed that I was feelin’ tense, but I didn’t know how tense my body was until after it melted! This powerful meltin’ feelin’ flowed through my body like a wave from the tips of my toes all the way up to the top of my head, which encouraged me to lay down on my bed without even thinkin’ about it, with my head restin’ on my pillow. Tears began to gently flow from my eyes, but I didn’t feel upset or anythin’. I just felt… peaceful. Not happy or sad. Not angry or frustrated. Just peaceful. My mind was calmin’ down, and that insultin’ voice in my head was gone. What was left of my tension, a holdout from when I was bein’ bullied, held on tightly in my shoulders and chest. I could hear my Uncle’s gentle voice in my head warm my heart;

“You did good, Gelly. You’re gonna be okay.”

With a slow breath and my Uncle’s encouragin’ words bouncin’ around in my brain, I tried to let that tension go, only to feel my head tense up in a hurry. It was as if a great big wall rose up inside of it. Whatever it was, it was making it tough for me to release that old, annoyin’ tension. At that moment, however, my Uncle’s voice told me what I needed to hear;

“It’s okay… you don’t have to hold on any longer.”

He was right, and I knew it. Since Tony wasn’t gonna hurt me again, I didn’t have to hold on to my stress anymore. I felt the wall in my mind crumble as I mentally gave myself permission to do what I was once too afraid to do for so long;

“I can rest now.”

Just like that, the old tension melted away like ice-cream on a hot Summer day. I felt my body sink into the bed as I shut my eyes to do just that; rest. Not sleep, mind ya’, since it was still daytime and there was stuff that I wanted to do on that day. But I felt in my heart, at that moment, that restin’ was what I needed to do first, and that Tony was not goin’ to ruin it for me. I felt myself slowly let go of everything that had nothin’ to do with restin’; my thoughts, my memories, and my emotions. None of them disappeared, to be honest, for each of them came and went on their own as I became more and more relaxed with each passin’ second. I felt no fear when this was happenin’. Heck, I didn’t fully understand what was goin’ on at the time. I just… went with it, like something deep inside was silently guidin’ me, ya’ know? Eventually, every part of my mind and body became completely relaxed, even as the tears continued to flow. Simply put, I was enjoyin’ a kind of peace that I had never known before then, and let me tell ya’, it was… incredible! I will never forget that feelin’ for as long as I live and breathe.

            I lost all sense of time as I laid on that bed, restin’ peacefully without a care in the world. My body felt weightless and my mind was so calm and quiet that it felt as light as a feather. My heart was beatin’ at a gentle pace that I could easily focus on. It felt like I was floatin’ inside of myself, if that makes any sense. Turns out it wasn’t just my mind that was takin’ a break; it was every part of yours truly! I’ll say this truthfully; it was a break that I desperately needed. Ya’ see, we all need a moment to recharge every now and then, especially after dealin’ with those tough times in life. If we don’t give ourselves that moment when we need it, then we’ll be tired out before we know it! I didn’t know just how tired I was of dealin’ with Tony’s antics until after I had allowed myself to let go and rest. When I think about, I’m glad that I did. After everythin’ that this young lady had gone through, all the cryin’, yellin’, and hurtin’, I deserved that moment of peace. As I got back up to continue my day, I came to realize somethin’; I got my brother to stop bullyin’ me by tellin’ the truth, my truth, not just to him, but also to my family, my friends, and to myself. As a kid who was raised to be honest, I could not help but feel joy over doing that. So, I promised myself that I would always tell my truth, even if the rest of the world tried to shut me up. I wouldn’t feel like Angela if I didn’t, ya’ know?

            A few days had passed, and the time to go to my middle-school reared its head. Tony was dealin’ with a bad case of the common cold, so he had to stay at home this time. He joked with me before I had gotten on the bus that he figured that even his own body was tired of his crud! Man, he really felt bad about hurtin’ me, ya’ know? I walked down the hall in the school that led to my locker since I was lookin’ to sort out my textbooks before my history class could start. Just as I was lookin’ through the locker, I saw, on the corner of my left eye, a large white and black wheel rollin’ past me. I darted my body around to find that DJ K-Man himself was rollin’ down the hall in his wheelchair! Walkin’ by his right side was this little girl, slightly taller than the chair, who wore a ballerina outfit, complete with a pink leotard with a red shirt underneath, a pink tutu around her waist, blue pants, and pink dancin’ shoes. Both kids had tan skin that had a noticeably darker tone than mine. I had no idea that he was in my school, so when I saw him and the girl travelin' together, I could not pass up the chance to talk with them, ya’ know? It helped that his partner had this pleasant vibe to her too, and it wasn’t just because of the tutu. I had about ten minutes before I had to run off to class, which meant that I had time to at least say hello. So, I finished with gettin’ my books in order as quickly as I could and caught up to those two kids in a brisk pace that my two left feet could allow without them trippin’ up on me.

            After catching up to K-Man’s wheelchair, I slowed my butt down to walk at his and the girl’s shared pace. Without hesitation, I gave them a friendly greetin’ with my trusty sideways smile;

“What’s up, ya’ two? The name’s Angela. Angela Delvecchio.”

K-Man was wearin’ the same hat and shirt from before, only this time, I could see his grey pants and white shoes. Since I could get a closer look at his chair, I noticed that it was built with light-blue tinted steel and four wheels with white covers and black rubber tires. Two of the wheels were really big and were set up at the back and along the sides of the chair, while the other two were much smaller and were situated next to his footrests from the sides. He stopped moving his chair by gently grabbin’ the top of the big wheels with his hands, which prompted the two of us girls to stop as well. He turned his head to look at me with his slightly squinted eyes, which were apparently dark-red, expressed a smile that grew from ear to ear, and told me in a friendly voice;

“Hey there, Angela. I’m Kenny Kawaguchi, and the girl next to me is my little sister Vicky.”

I looked over at Vicky to see her perform a perfect ballerina’s bow to politely greet me. I nodded my head to acknowledge the bow as Kenny continued to speak, this time with a hint of awe on his face;

“I remember you… you were that girl who sang ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ a few nights ago. You did great on that stage!” I was already feelin’ pretty good about talkin’ to an awesome musician and his sister, but gettin’ a compliment from said musician made my mood even better! With a short laugh, I decided to give a humble response;

“Thank ya’, kid. Your DJ work was simply stylish, ya’ know?”

While Kenny laughed as well, Vicky noted in her soft, sweet voice;

“It’s good that we’ve made a new friend and all, but we’ve got to get to P.E. class soon.”

With a nod aimed at his sister, Kenny looked back at me and declared with his giant smile;

“Yeah, Mr. Doug doesn’t like it when his students are late. We’ll talk more during lunch, Angela!”

He then went back to rollin’ down the hall, with Vicky quickly catching up to him while wavin’ back at me with an enthusiastic;

“Sayonara!”

The two kids left me standin’ in the middle of the hall as I thought to myself;

“A wheelchair-ridin’ DJ with a ballerina for a sister, eh?”

When I continued walkin’ to my class, I came to a simple conclusion;

“Somethin’ tells me… that I can learn a lot from those two.”

Let me just say that what I learned from Kenny and Vicky Kawaguchi during that day’s lunch is another story by itself! But for now, I’m done talkin’.