Tuesday, September 26, 2006

The Bully and my Mum

The bully* that lived up the road when I was littler, was horrible. He was the sort that hung around in hiding and would jump out at you shoving a handful of worms in your face, then call you names and threaten to beat you up if you complained. A lot of the other kids were scared of him, and would try to keep out of his way, but I was one of the few that would not let him make my life miserable and would defiantly walk around the streets and park with my faithful dog by my side.
The bully didn't like that much. He also didn't like the fact that I would climb trees in my garden that overhung the pavement, armed with water bombs filled with mud waiting for him to walk underneath, and my catapult ready to fire stink bombs** at him from a distance.
In hindsight, my grafittiing a wall in the park with the words 'Bully is a wonker' probably added fuel to his fire that wanted me burnt, was not a good idea.
Anyway, this was all in the days when boundaries were sacrosanct, and many times I had avoided getting into a fight by hoofing it over my fence and into the safety of my garden as fast as my plimsolls could carry me.
The fence itself ran the length of the garden down to where it gave way to a wall, which was part of the railway arches, and was where my garden turned into the embankment.
As I already mentioned, those were the days when most people would not even think about going onto another person's land without permission, so then there was no fencing or wire, and I could climb up the wall and into my garden from the pavement, and vice versa.
One fine summer's day, my friend, dog, and I had been out to the park to play with my new frisbee. We were in sight of home when a dark cloud loomed over us, and a chill set my hackles up. I turned to find the bully standing a few feet away.
"Oi, wot you got there then?" he rumbled.
"It's an elephant" I replied.
"Hurhur, no it's not, it's a frisbee!" he said.
Can't fool him I thought, and started to walk away while avoiding eye contact.
I'd gone a couple of paces when he shouted out
"Oi, gis the frisbee then!"
"Or what?" I replied
"I'll beat you up and then take it!"
'Crap' I thought, before breaking into a run towards the wall.
He caught up with me as I was halfway up and grabbed hold of my leg. I kicked out with the other leg, but sadly missed his face and ended up grabbing hold of a nearby branch trying to pull myself up, while he tried to pull me back into the street and my dog tried his best to help me by biting at the bully's trousers and growling.
Unknown to me, my friend had decided to go and get my mum.
Now, my mum was about the same size as I am now (5'7", and fairly skinny) and to most people she was the epitome of sweetness and light, with the bearing of a true lady.
However, she had a temper that would make the Incredible Hulk run for the hills.
The fracas betwen me, my dog and the bully was suddenly silenced by a terrible scream of "OI, YOU! GET YOUR BLOODY HANDS OFF MY DAUGHTER!"
The bully stopped pulling.
The dog stopped biting.
I stopped kicking.
And as one, we three turned to see my mother hurtling towards us brandishing a bread knife, screaming like a harpie, and with such a look of violence and menace in her eyes would have made Kali throw her gloves down.

We legged it.

We got as far as the 'secret-to-grown-ups' hideaway before we stopped, panting and gasping for breath.
The bully, after getting his breath back, turned to me and said, "Wasn't that your mum?", to which I replied "Ummm... yeah"
There were a few moments of silence and contemplation before the bully looked me in the eyes and said,

"Nice dog you got there. Wanna toffee?"

We still riled each other until he moved, but he mostly stayed out of my way and we never spoke of the incident agan. Ever.

*Name secret.
**Anyone know where you can get them from nowadays?