THE BULLY

          “Hurry up, Fatty.”

I was walking as fast as I could, but the board was narrow and I didn’t want to fall off into the water.  Then he would really laugh.

“HE” was a sixth grader, tall and rough. Only seven, I was afraid of him.  Every time he saw me, which was sometimes several times a day, he would call me names. “Fatty” and “Tubby” were his favorites.

He pushed me to the side of the path after we were both across. “Get out of my way, Chubby,” he growled.

The school was new and there were no sidewalks yet.  Where the ground dipped low, the school had placed planks to allow the students to walk over the water that flowed through after every rain.

I hated rain because I hated to walk across those boards.  Even if he were not there, I was afraid I would lose my balance.  When he was nearby, I was terrified.

That afternoon it rained again.  I prayed that we would get out before the sixth graders so I could get across and almost home before he came out of the building.

Mrs. Extrand, my teacher, dismissed the class.  The sun was shining and I was looking forward to playing outside after I got home. I glanced around as I left the building.  The coast was clear. I saw no sign of him.

As I was crossing the second board, I heard that voice. “Come on, Fatso.  Get out of the way.  I’ve got things to do.”

I tried to hurry, but I was too nervous.  He was still yelling and teasing me as I stepped off the board.  I couldn’t stand it anymore.

I stopped and turned.  With my bravest second grade voice, I shouted at him. “Stop it. Leave me alone!”

He laughed and kept coming toward me.  In frustration, I put out my arms and pushed him in the chest. “I said, ‘Stop it!’”

My actions took him by surprise.  All of a sudden, there he was, soaking wet and lying in the ditch. I just stood there.  I couldn’t believe what I had done.

The roar that arose from the water roused me from my stupor.  Fearing for my life, I ran as fast as I could.  I didn’t know what he would do and I didn’t want to know.

I heard him screaming as I opened the door, ran inside and shut it quickly.  At least I would live until tomorrow.

The next day, I looked carefully so I could run if I saw him. I didn’t see him that day or the next.  He never bothered me again.

A few weeks later, I skipped across the board.

Author: Penney Rahm

I am a retired United Methodist pastor, having served in churches for 34 years. Having spent most of my life in upstate New York and Northeast and Central Pennsylvania, I am now living in South Carolina with my 3 cats and 91 year old mother. View all posts by Penney Rahm