Got a “three way” phone call from Sammy and Boyce last night. They were both sheepishly laughing, so I knew what they wanted. Which one, I asked. “The one with the stairs!” That would be number four: the fourth time I was punched in junior high and high school.
I was a freshman in high school. It was only the second week or so and I still wasn’t used to the building or the crowds. One morning I was walking with my head down and imagining my shoes slowly turning to ostrich feet. The ostrich is the fastest bird on the ground and should have been the one in the cartoon with the coyote. The fact that in the cartoons a coyote could not catch a roadrunner is absurd. The Greater Roadrunner can run up to 20 miles per hour. A coyote can more than double that speed. Of course, the Greater Roadrunner can also fly, which makes that entire rivalry even more frustrating to endure. Then again, that cartoon coyote does look malnourished and possibly suffering from several debilitating infections. Either way, the ostrich can run twice as fast as the Greater Roadrunner, and could simply ram the coyote and send its anemic body twirling into a chasm.
Anyway, I was imagining my feet turning into those of an ostrich when I ran into this very tall, very attractive senior girl. Unfortunately, I bumped into her at the top of the staircase and sent her tumbling down the steps to the first landing, where she lay splayed out like the coyote would be if the ostrich rammed it at top speed. Several things made this unfortunate. I had just sent one of the most popular girls in school down the stairs in front of a lot of people who secretly resented her, and were thus laughing hysterically. I also, out of mind-numbing fear, stared at her for a few seconds and then walked back the way I came, leaving her there unattended. And finally, she was dating Keller Bigsby, potential menace to all shy bird-lovers.
Keller Bigsby was not a bully. He was above such activities. But he was like Apollo who you knew, the first time you sneezed wrong, had the ability to put antlers on your head just so he could cut them off with your own sternum. It wasn’t long before Keller Bigsby found me. He said, “Did you push my girlfriend down the stairs?” I should have said no, but I started by explaining about the top speed of the ostrich and how great it would be to run with its legs though you’d probably have to hide your metamorphosis because the government would want to do tests on you. So he punched me in the stomach real hard, and then when I bent over he swung for my face but hit me in the ear instead.
For the rest of the day I couldn’t hear out of that ear. My dad had been dead for years so I was living with my mom. She wasn’t blind yet. When I asked her if I needed to go to the doctor she said, “Eh, you got your ear boxed.” That’s how she kept saying it. Even when I came back to her a couple hours later and said it really hurt, she just said, “Eh, you got your ear boxed.” She wouldn’t even say, “boxed ear.” She always said it, “you got your ear boxed."
If you’re wondering where Sammy and Boyce were, here is your answer: except for a couple times, they don’t get involved in my beatings because they generally happen so spontaneously and quickly. Boyce and Sammy are generally there for the recovery, though. This time, however, they went to Keller Bigsby and explained what happened and said that I was currently deaf. Because Keller wasn’t normally a bully that really freaked him out. So he picked me up at my house, and I called to my mom, “The guy who beat me up is taking me to the urgent care.” She said, “Eh, you got your ear boxed,” and went back to her stories on the tv.
Keller Bigsby and I spent three hours together at the urgent care. He kept looking in my ear canal because he was freaked out about what he did to me. He asked me why I didn’t just tell him what happened. I explained that the ostrich feet thing was the prologue to the story, and he didn’t give me a chance. He said he was sorry, and paid for the urgent care in cash so no one would know I went there. Turns out my ear wasn’t permanently damaged. The hearing actually started coming back on our way to the urgent care, but I liked that Keller was worried. I know he was worried about getting in trouble rather than my ear, but close enough.
When I told all this to Sammy and Boyce—a story they already know very well—they responded by asking me if I wanted to sell my house. Turns out Boyce was picking up Sammy from work and on their way home they saw a house with a for sale sign. Keller Bigsby is a realtor. I said even if Keller is my realtor I didn’t want to sell my house, though if he wanted to get rid of the Camaro in front of it that would be great.
