Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details.Life changing moments can sometimes start with a smack in the mouth By J. G. Fabiano Toward the end of my last holiday party that was two parties too many, a few of my friends possessing y-chromosomes stood in a circle away from the rest of the festivities and talked about unique times in our lives that made a difference. I am not saying these were all positive differences. They were simply times that changed who we were and who we would become. I waited my turn in order to allow my friends to tell stories of how their marriage changed their lives for the better or how their father became an overwhelming influence on his life. I also suffered through stories about an old war, good and bad business relationships, and even a few that concerned a first time for anything. When it was my turn to add to the conversation I told my little group of testosterone'd friends that my life was changed because of a fight I had during my freshman year in high school. This, as you might expect, shut down the conversation. Then my brother-in-law asked me to explain. Since I am known to be a bit of a story teller I swallowed a sip of beer in order to clear my throat, smiled a bit knowing I had just become the center of our little universe, and explained what I meant about what I had just said. I was always a fat kid. I don't remember ever not being bigger and wider than anyone else in my family or any of my friends. When I was young I didn't mind being fat. In fact, I never heard the word fat. My mother coined the term husky. I assume she got this from the department stores where she bought my clothes. She would bring me to the husky section of the large boy department. Husky was a good thing back then because I was the one who held the sign for my school or for my little league baseball team. Hell, I didn't just hold the sign; I was the sign. I stayed large right up to my freshman year in high school. My small circle of friends never bothered me about this because they always knew me as being fat. My teachers were never concerned with my size because back then the concept of being over-weight had nothing to do with health or future sickness. It had everything to do with a mother who fed her child a bit too much. I guess this was because she loved me a bit too much. But, then I met Ralphee. I didn't really meet him because he was part of a crowd who were considered the cool kids. He was also a year older than I and moved into town right before he started school. Cool kids back then were synonymous with greased back hair and black leather jackets. They never did well in school because if they did they would no longer be considered cool. There were no special programs back then to help these kids. Everyone knew they wouldn't graduate and would end up in either the army or in jail. I never wanted to meet anyone like Ralphee. When they walked through the halls I, and everyone like me, found a room to duck into or looked at their shoes in order to not make any eye contact. But, I guess there was some sort of rule concerning how a cool kid should act when he was around a fat kid. He had to prove he was cool by picking on someone who was the opposite of himself. In other words, he had to start picking on me. As soon as he focused in on me he started to bully me. He would push my tray off the table in the cafeteria. He would put gum on the chair in my classroom I was doomed to have to share with him and he even shoved me into the lockers every time he passed me in the hall. For the first three months of my freshman year I was doomed to be the person who would make Ralphee even cooler than he thought he was. I remember having a real bad morning one day. I accidentally dropped an entire bowl of frosted flakes on my pants, jumped up from the breakfast table, slipped on the milk and slammed my head on the floor. Now that I think of it I think I entered one of the lowest points of my life that morning. My mother put some ice on my head and made me change my clothes. The only problem was the only shirt I had left to wear displayed one of my past heroes; Roy Rogers. Being in pain I didn't even notice the faded picture of Roy and his horse Trigger standing on his hind legs. The basic problem was Ralphee noticed it right away. I was standing at my locker attempting to block out the pain in the back of my head when all of a sudden I was spun around by Ralphee who announced to everyone in the hallway I was wearing my baby shirt because it was the only thing that still fit me. He went on to scream the shirt really didn't fit and proceeded to attempt to tear it off me. Something happened in my aching head that changed my life forever. I grabbed Ralphee by his greasy leather jacket and pushed him away. At first I saw surprise in his face but it was soon replaced by rage because he knew he was in the center of a rather large group of people he had gathered in the first place and knew he had to impress. I, on the other hand, saw only Ralphee in front of me and felt a fury I had never felt before. Ralphee started to come near me in order to finish what he started and prove to his world he was still cool. Instead of taking the punishment like I had multiple times before I stood in a stance I watched boxers stand on the television my father watched on every Saturday afternoon. I had no clue as to what I was doing but it did slow Ralphee down. I didn't wait for him to stop. I jabbed my left arm into his nose. I hit it square on its tip and I knew it must have hurt because Ralphee fell back a couple of steps. I wasn't going to stop there. I then threw my right arm out and caught him in his mouth pushing his lips into his teeth and thus making them bleed. At this point in my life I felt no shame or embarrassment I had just hurt someone. I didn't care because Ralphee so desperately needed it. After the second punch everything became blurred. Ralphee jumped at me and within a microsecond we were wrestling in the middle of the hall. This was the first time I heard the crowd around me. They were cheering me. I even caught a glimpse of my biology teacher who looked like he was smiling. He was also doing nothing to stop the battle that was going on in front of him. A battle I was definitely winning. I got in trouble that day. My parents were called to school and I was grounded for the next month of my life. I also started losing weight that day and by the end of the year I had lost almost 30 pounds. My life at school changed in that no one ever picked on me again. I even had my first girl friend that year. Even Ralphee changed in that I never saw him pick on a small fat kid again. He graduated one year before me. I have no idea what happened to him but I do remember him finishing school. I sometimes wonder if it had something to do with our confrontation in the middle of the hall. After I finished my story a few of my friends told me I should write down what I just told them. I smiled and told them I just did. The End.
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