Fistfight

By Dave Esposito

David E. was in the fourth day of 5th grade when he found out the sixth grade boys were after him. They told him what they were going to do; they were going to beat him up, and then kick his butt…but they didn't tell him why. He couldn't figure it out, but he believed them without question. 

In the past, there had been only a couple of small dust-ups with kids in his own class, and an occasional pinch or slap from his sister at home, but nothing serious. At school, he checked all the boxes: he was obedient to the teachers,  he did his homework, and he didn’t cause trouble. 

The upperclassmen, even the ones just a grade up, were to be avoided. They moved as a pack and weren't interested in having younger kids in their group. The fifth graders regarded the sixth graders as MUCH older. They were bigger, stronger, and louder and with some of them having deeper voices, they might as well have been adults. Most of them were ok when they were by themselves, but when they grouped up, they tended to turn mean and scary which terrified the younger kids they crossed paths with. 

David. thought he knew what bullying was;  he had watched animals do it to each other on TV. Open-mouthed and terrified, he watched as hyenas and similar predators on National Geographic chased and murdered  the old, the sick, and particularly distressing to David., the young.  Of course, this wasn’t really bullying, it was meals for predators, he knew that sort of. Even so, he  wondered why the weaker animals  didn't group together and stand up to the more powerful ones who were usually fewer in number. He knew that water buffalos, zebras, and gazelles weren’t smart like people,  but you would think that they should have been able to figure something out, and not just stand there mute and chewing on grass while their friends and family were ripped  to pieces in front of them! And it wasn’t always the big eating the small. Sometimes it was the other way around too. National Geographic also featured colonies of ants and termites killing and hoisting much bigger insects on their spiny spindly shoulders in terrifying extreme close-ups and then dragging them back to their nests to be torn apart and devoured. Who was the bully now? 

It was all very confusing to David. And though he saw how in nature the weak could defeat the powerful, he would have thought it impossible that it could apply to humans - especially to fifth graders humans pitted against older boys humans. 

So now that he knew a little more about life and death thanks to TV, and because he was a fifth grader and had begun to think about the nasty things that happened to the weak and ill-equipped, he began to make the connection that this could happen to him too, and one thing leading to another, he could see the need for figuring out what he would do if set upon by a pack of older human predators, ones who roamed not the Serengetti, but the corridors in his very school. 

Coincidentally, but with absolutely no connection that he was aware of, girls were becoming a preoccupation of his. They would roam the hallways weaving their way through the corridors single file, side by side, or even three abreast. He made room, and would track them with his eyes and then avert his gaze as they brushed past him, as if embarrassed, but for who knows what. In the lines leading to the lavoratories, (girls on the left, boys on the right), he would peek at them when the nuns weren’t looking. Other boys did the same thing - he could feel it.

The girls were hardly ever alone too. They clustered together like magical creatures in Disney cartoons and were entirely unapproachable, like Cinderellas and Snow Whites coming to life would have been, marvelous and terrifying at once.  When it felt safe, he would get as close to them as possible and listen in on their conversations. They usually talked quietly, then all at once, then a pause, then a loud burst of laughter.  He strained to make out what they were saying, asking himself why they were always laughing and telling each other secrets and whispering in each other's ears and pointing at other kids, mainly boys. Who were they talking about? And most importantly, were they talking about him when he wasn't looking? 

Every day he wondered about them more and more. Why, for instance, couldn’t they throw a baseball properly? They were girls, yes, but why? All the boys joked about it, but none had any explanations. And why did they look at themselves in mirrors so much, mirrors they carried with them?  It just wasn't…well, manly. He wondered too why they were so clean and smelled so good ; all of these odd differences  made him and his friends keenly aware of their presence. For example, when he passed upperclass hall monitor Connie G., who was blonde with straight long hair, and who the nuns had stationed between floors, he came within inches of her, and each time he did, he  inhaled  deeply the perfume she was wearing, and that was forbidden by the nuns, and even after he exhaled he would try to remember it for as long as possible. It wasn’t perfumey like what his Mother and sister wore, instead it was musky and kind of oppressive and it disturbed him.

One day, some of his friends started doing goofy things in front of four girls gathered at a desk just before religion class started.  Goofing around could only happen if a teacher was late for class, and it had to be seized upon instantly because these opportunities were few and far between and never lasted more than thirty seconds. What began as general showing off quickly turned into mock sword fights using pencils, (fully sharpened), and rulers swung with abandon and with no regard for the well-being of eyes and other flesh. All of this mayhem culminated in a tumble of boys sliding on their bottoms between rows of desks stopping just short of the girls. David.  joined in the roughhousing but was careful not to mess up his clothes. He had recently  ripped his first pair of “Perma-Press” pants, (which were advertised to never need ironing, and thus were a beloved addition to his Mother’s quality of life), the first day he wore them while playing tackle football in the school’s paved parking lot. His Mother had punished him severely, not only were they torn and had to be mended,  but his bloody nose stained them as well.

There was one girl in particular he was drawn to: Her name was Laura T.  and that’s all he knew about her except that she was in his grade and that  it was rumored her parents had just divorced. This was about 1964, and divorce amongst Catholics was unheard of, and somehow, that bit of knowledge along with her pretty features, made her exotic in a confusing, sinful kind of way. At his age he couldn’t define the sin though, but there was something about how the nuns guarded the bathroom lines and kept any contact between the girls and boys to a minimum, that tipped him off that there was something potentially pleasurable, yet awful in consequences in all of this, and he would later come to learn that this observation was his introduction to the concept of guilt.
More significantly, though he couldn’t parse it at the time, Laura T.  was the person, the event, the thing, the entity, the object,  that introduced him to the concept of beauty. He had never really thought about what that word meant. He loved the outdoors, and sunsets, trees, and ponds could be neat,  but they were nature; fun to be in and fun to play in, but not irresistible in and of themselves and so, basically, he loved playing and running and climbing trees and his Mother and that was it. Beauty was something else, and he knew that he had found it when he paired that word with Laura T’s eyes, her skin, her smile and, something else; her fineness. Fine in a physical way not present in boys and definitely not in men.  He tried not to think about her all the time, but even when he was studying, her face would hover above the page or superimpose itself over a conversation with another person - she even would possess him while he was in the middle of tackling some boy out in the school yard, he would tackle the boy, but he was tackling her to! When he saw her at school,  his pupils pulled together in unisonand when he closed his eyes at night, he saw her on the inside of his eyelids before he drifted off. He knew one thing for sure, he would die for her if called upon…

Then one day at recess out in the school parking lot, he and the other boys in his class started a competition consisting of making the most horrifying and ridiculous faces possibles near Laura T. and her entourage. He had passed Connie G. on her blonde hair and the wonderful smell made him practically feverish with enthusiasm at  the prospect of seeing Laura T., who he knew would be in the school yard  eating lunch with her girlfriends. He ran outside then over to the other boys, instantly diving into the  facial hijinks activity by pulling the corners of his mouth outward and sticking his tongue out, and when no one seemed to notice, meaning Laura T., he quickly followed up with a moment of pure inspiration. He pulled his nostrils up towards his eyes with two fingers right in front of Laura T. and her girlfriends, who brought their hands to their faces in fright, aghast at the pig-like appearance in front of them, Then they  burst out laughing and Laura T. laughed the loudest. She laughed at him, with him - it didn’t matter to David. But it dawned on him that gross and horrifying could be a winning combination, and he filed that tidbit away for future development.  

She was still laughing, when suddenly  he was shoved aside by another boy. He fell down on a particularly rough patch of asphalt, scraping his knees and ripping his pants again, twice in one week, and worse than the first time.  These were the same pants he had torn a few days before and, though he hadn’t been to blame, he knew he was in more trouble with his Mom and this made him really mad. His palms were skinned as well, red and hot and just beginning to sprout little dots of red. He got to his feet and there was the kid who had knocked him down;  an older kid; a sixth grader by the name of Ralph M. who instead of mugging, was actually talking to Laura T. and the other girls, bragging about something or other. The girls laughed, and after talking to them a little longer, he turned to leave. 

When he swung around, he had a smile on his face until he locked eyes with David., His smile vanished and his lips narrowed to a bloodless line.  “Get out of the way punk,” he spat. He was almost a head taller than the fifth grader and as he walked past him he gave the smaller boy another shove which was now noticed by the other kids. David. immediately felt their stares and knew that both boys and girls from all different classes were looking at him and Ralph M.  and had seen the whole thing:  that he had been shoved and knocked down and then pushed again a minute later. And sure enough, a couple of them called out, “hey man, you going to take that?” And then others began saying the same thing. David. was not sure who they were talking to. Were they thinking he was the one who had done the shoving? That would have been crazy since he was shocked first then scared second at what Ralph M. had done. He didn’t want a fight, especially around all these people! But the crowd was forming around David., and Ralph M. and his friends were pulled into the group as well. “Kick his ass”, “punch him out”, he could hear from the 6th graders, and the fifth graders started, somewhat hopefully, chanting “You can do it”, and “fight, fight, fight”.  There was a circle now around David. and the older boy; hungry faces lathered up into a mob of kids thirsting for blood,  and suddenly, in about ten seconds, the whole incident had escalated from routine fun to life and death. The moment the circle closed around him,  David. knew that a fight was going to happen. He looked at Ralph M. and, oddly, saw confusion and surprise, …and maybe even a little fear, in his eyes as well. Ralph M. was looking side to side and seeing and hearing his 6th grade classmates yelling and screaming for him to beat the younger boy up, he too realized he really didn't have a choice. If he didn't fight he would be out of his group and disgraced,  and worse, he would have been beaten up by a fifth grader. And David. only knew that he was cornered and that was intolerable and he felt paralyzed and revving up like a dynamo at the same time. Somebody threw a wadded up piece of paper at David. and that's all it took and then both boys were instantly flying at each other like male-banshee valkyries and everything went crazy in front of David. Fifth grader and sixth grader tore at each other swinging; and it was all a blur of clenched fists and jaws and punches and with all the yelling and screaming not just from the boys fighting but from the onlookers and even the girls too - their faces gross and pig-like and those images along with fists that were flying in both directions made time speed up and stand still at the same time and David. didn't feel anything or know anything except fists and bits of sky and mouths yelling and Ralph M.'s crazed face coming at him. 

And then all of the sudden it was over and David. looked out but didn’t see Ralph M. because Ralph M. was no longer standing up. Ralph M. was on the ground on both knees, propping himself up on an elbow and with strands of saliva hanging from his face. There was saliva everywhere,  but no blood, just a lot of slobber. David had saliva on his face and on his shirt sleeves too but he was upright and crouched with his fists still up. For a moment, he could not comprehend what had happened. Then he heard cheering - and booing.  Ralph M. was laying on his side and looking at him but not getting up. David. didn't feel anything, no pain at all although he thought he had to have been hit. The world had just exploded in front of him and it had happened so fast that it seemed the battle had begun and ended in the same moment…

After collecting himself for a bit, Ralph M. got up and walked away to more muffled boos and catcalls from his erstwhile friends and a few somewhat cautious fifth  graders. He was shaken and still wiping the drool hanging off his face and muttering that he would get David. back for this. The sixth graders were also booing and menacing David., threatening that they were going to kick his ass the next day after school for sure. David. felt sick to his stomach and hungry at the same time. He just wanted to go back to class and get this day over with. The crowd, having enjoyed the spectacle, broke up and danced away with no teacher even noticing what had happened. 

David. went home believing he was going to catch a group beating the next day from the older boys, and even with that on his mind,  he was surprised that he actually slept well that night. He had felt a sort of afterglow after the fight that made him sleepy and sort of blissful. He was sorry he had ripped his pants but he didn’t tell his Mom that he had been in a fight. Instead, he apologized sincerely, with his head down in front of her, and she seemed to forgive him and didn’t say much, maybe because she felt sorry for his scraped knees and maybe because she saw his scraped and bruised knuckles too and might have guessed that he wasn’t telling her everything.  

He returned to school the next day with the resolution that he would strive to get a better report card, mainly for his mother sake, and for the work he caused her having to mend his ruined pants again, and more importantly, to be in the same building with all the girls in his class and even the sixth graders that he had begun to notice - most particularly, Connie G. who shocked him by looking directly at him as he passed by her on the second floor landing. It, and her wonderful smell,  filled him with absolute and tremendous elation and he knew that talking to her would be the most important thing that he would ever do. And of course, he would die for her too if called upon…

At lunch, the sixth graders kept to themselves and no circle was formed on the asphalt playground, and no asses were kicked. His friends looked over their shoulders before grinning and slapping him on the arm, whispering, “yeah, yeah yeah!” They took great cathartic pleasure in having the older boys being taken down a peg at no cost to themselves.  

Days and then weeks went by and David. faced zero consequences...nothing happened and the older boys never fell upon him. They would stare at him, and when they did, he avoided their gaze,  but that’s as far as it went. It took David. a while to realize, along with his friends telling him,  that the older guys did not want to mess with him. And he slowly understood  that when something like what happened to him  happens, the whole affair turns into a collective mist of memories, warnings, and danger that forms around the protagonists and the incident, and is carried forward like a sort of myth, a warning, a lesson to be learned by all, young and old, prey and predator. 

Occasionally, he would see Ralph M. around the school and he felt bad for him. He had lost face and standing among the other boys and he seemed to have shrunk physically too. They nodded at each other now and again, and David. thought that except for the battle that was now behind them, they could have been friends; but he knew that it would not have been in the natural order of things.

A few weeks later he kissed a girl  for the first time at his one and only spin-the-bottle party, and he felt the plush-scented-softness of her lips,  and smelled a new brand of perfume that filled him with bliss and which he inhaled deeply, hoping not to forget it, ever, and suddenly that sensation was paired with the equally intoxicating but not well reasoned thought that he would never fight with anyone again because of what had happened that day at recess. And although he was glad he knew that he could fight, and would fight if he needed to, he wouldn't  care if he won or lost; he was just glad that the spirit of  the Serengeti had come over him that afternoon on the playground and that he had played his role in nature and therefore things would be OK in his life. 

And all the time he knew one other thing too: he knew, still, for a large part, he was just a scared, worried little boy who never wanted to hurt anyone, and who didn’t know anything, but that one thing. To get past that, he just had to make it to the sixth grade…