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School scraps
School scraps
By jfarrell
“My dad’s bigger than your dad!”
…... remember that, from school?
When I got home from school,
With cuts and bruises,
I’d get 7-8 slaps and hits, before
…. “Did you hit back?”
Once,
I hit back.
Can’t remember what the fight was about.
Jason was a year younger than me,
A neighbour, a friend, on my estate,
On my block.
I beat him up;
His two teenage brothers beat me up.
Should’ve ended there.
After the customary 7-8 punches,
To get me talking,
to get me to ‘share’…
He stops hitting me…
Squares his shoulders…
And storms out! “No-one gangs up on my kid, like that!”
I watched a hero, my hero,
Storm off down the balcony
And start hammering on Jason’s door…
“I WANNA WORD…..
“WHAT YOUR KIDS DID TO MY SON….”
…. the door opened….
…..I’d never noticed Jason’s dad before…..
….He was short, nose to chest, with my father…
And my father was not tall…
…..SHOUT, SHOUT, SHOUT….
One punch…
My ‘hero’, my dad, out cold.
I saw it all there, don’t know how;
7-8 years old;
Dad gets drunk hits wife and kids….
He’ll only hit… stand up to…
People smaller than him….
Coward… but I still feared him.
In 3 days I will be 50….
You know what….
I think I should stop fearing him…
After all…
He died over 25 years ago
And I’d seen him only once since I was 14.
3 days before 50 I, finally, realise…
I’m better than you…
And always have been!
I may not be the ‘man’ you think of….
Beating up littler kids to make me feel better….
I am MORE…. greater… then you ever were.
