I grinned back at her. "You do that!"
The Harpers took that as their cue to leave. I saw them to the door, and Tessa was the last to go out. "I'm going to tell some of my friends just what kind of girl you're looking for.", she teased.
"You just do that. Tammy and I broke up, so I am definitely available."
"I'm also going to tell them you're a hero.", she said softly.
I grinned at her. "Don't do that, you'll ruin my reputation!" She took off after her folks and I waved goodbye.
Once inside, my mother immediately protested about me learning aikido. "You're always getting into fights at school! You are going to quit this immediately!"
"Mom, this is the only fight I've been in since I started learning aikido. Did you want me to let them hurt Tessa?", I asked. I glanced over at Dad for some support. "What if it had been Suzie?"
"I don't care. You are always getting into trouble, and this is just more of the same. You are stopping it, you hear!"
I looked at my father, and for once he stood up to her. "Shirley, shut up!"
"What?"
Dad ignored her for a moment. Turning to me, he said, "Anything ever happens with your mother or your sister, you take care of them, you understand?" I nodded silently. "Shirley, he stays in those classes. He didn't start it. He's doing fine. Leave him alone." Back to me he said, "You take care of them, no matter what." I nodded again.
"How dare you...", started Mom.
"Shirley, just shut up." Dad went back up the stairs, with Mom following behind him, arguing. I never saw my father ever hit my mother, but I know he must have wanted to at times. This was one of those times. She was losing the argument, and she didn't take losing well. I knew I wasn't hearing the end of it. My mother is not one to bury a grudge. No, she's the type who stuffs it and mounts it on the mantel.
Chapter 13: Moving Along
Fall 1970 to Summer 1971
Tenth grade moved along quickly on schedule, my advanced schedule. I managed to squeeze Trigonometry and Analytic Geometry into the fall semester, and nailed Probability and Statistics in the spring, when it was normally held. The unusual part was that I took the class with seniors two years older than myself. They treated me okay, but differently, like an alien had landed among them.
I was active in both the Explorer post and the church's teen youth group, led by Pastor Joe. I figured I went camping or canoeing at least once a month through the entire year. I had enjoyed this immensely on my first trip through, and now was no different, except that I was a lot more knowledgeable. I was a whole lot better campfire cook this time around, which is a skill you only learn through experience. At least this time I didn't dump my canoe and partner upside down in the middle of the North Branch of the Shenandoah River, like I did the first time.
I didn't warn Mr. Becker about what was waiting for him on that trip, though. He had a brand new plastic canoe, which cost him a fortune and of which he was inordinately proud. It was about a third of the weight of the Grumman aluminum canoes the rest of us were using. It was one of the very first non-metal canoes ever built, plastic, not fiberglass, and was made of two halves welded down the keel. He was one of the church deacons, and was with us for the trip, and his partner was a young girl, Jenny Smith. After about an hour on the river, he signaled for a stop and we all beached our canoes. His canoe had sprung a leak along the seam at the keel, splitting for a couple of inches.
Not to worry! He had a patch kit, just in case! Still, it would require him to beach the canoe, flip it upside down, and let it dry, then apply the patch and wait another hour or two. He and Jenny would be along in a few hours, so make sure dinner was ready. I smiled to myself and we all went on our merry way.
We didn't see either Mr. Becker or Jenny until Sunday afternoon. Five minutes after they were back in the water, the entire keel split down the middle and dropped the pair of them into the Shenandoah. They swam to shore and spent a wet night under the stars. The next day, Saturday, they hiked out along a railroad track, and found a phone. Jenny's parents were called, and they drove four hours into the West Virginia countryside to rescue them. Jenny went home, and Mr. Becker was taken to his car. He slept in the car overnight, and then drove to a lookout the next morning, where we found him waving to us. He told us the incredible story amid much laughter about his "new and improved" canoe.
I continued working out and running, and gained some muscle mass. By the end of the tenth grade, I was 5'10" and weighed 155 pounds, almost thirty pounds heavier than I was way back when. I was big enough that nobody thought about pushing me around, especially after word about the fight with the lacrosse players got out. That almost ended right there, but Jerry Jones decided to keep pushing it. The day after he was back in school after the suspension, he came calling and demanded I meet him after school behind the gym. I said I would be there.
Instead, I rode the bus home. Jerry was a certified moron. Ray Shorn, a buddy from Hampton Elementary days, looked shocked. "You're supposed to be fighting Jerry Jones behind the school!"
"Jerry Jones is an idiot.", I replied.
"He's going to say you're chicken."
"Jerry is going to say whatever he wants to say, regardless of what happens. What Jerry says about me isn't worth the breath it takes to say. Why don't you go back and ask Tessa if I'm a chicken?"
Ray glanced over his shoulder at where Tessa sat with some friends, and then looked back at me. "I don't know, man. I think he's going to be all over you tomorrow."
I blew this off. Ray was right, however, in that Jerry found me at the lockers the next morning and tried to brace me right there in the hallway. He was yelling loud enough to cause a commotion, and was grabbed by a teacher, and got a week's detention. That night I got my father alone and told him what was happening. Mom would have freaked out, but Dad was more or less human, now that he was no longer hitting me with the oak paddle.
I ended by saying, "I don't want to start anything, but I don't see Jerry letting this drop. For one thing, he ain't smart enough to let it drop!" Jerry was a big guy, with at least three inches and forty pounds on me, and it was all muscle, especially between the ears.
Dad gave an exasperated shrug. "Well, the good Lord says to turn the other cheek, but I don't recall him mentioning doing it more than once. I will tell you something I learned long ago, when I was your age, and later again in the Navy, and that's if you have to put somebody down, put him down hard and fast and permanent. Let me know what happens." I nodded and we broke apart.
A week later, after his detention was up, Jerry was back in my face, and actually tried to grab me and push me into the lockers. Like I said, Jerry was a moron anywhere other than the lacrosse field. I noticed a teacher standing behind him, and as soon as Jerry grabbed me, the teacher yanked him away. He got marched down to the office and got another five day suspension.
The day after his suspension was up, Jerry started mouthing off that he was going to beat the shit out of me right there in the school, and no pussy teachers were going to stop him. Everybody heard about it, of course, and several people mentioned it to me. I just nodded and thanked them, and kept my eyes open. It happened in the lunchroom. I was already seated at one of the benches, when Ray elbowed me and pointed towards the door. Jerry was striding purposefully towards me. "Shit, I need this like I need a hole in my head!", I muttered, and stood up to face him.