A SMALL PRICE TO PAY

By J.D. Sundstrom

His name was Rodney. He wasn't my friend. In fact, Rod had very few friends. Truthfully, he was a pretty lonely kid. However, before everyone gets all misty-eyed about poor Rodney's plight, it should be pointed out that his dearth of friends was due to one thing: Rodney, at an early age, had mastered the delicate art of being the "school bully". Unfortunately, as luck would have it, Rodney's one sole purpose in life, the one thing that gave his life meaning, seemed to be making my life miserable.

As far as bullies go, Rodney wasn't anything special. He was just your ordinary average run of the mill standard-type grade Z bully. He was big. Really big. Twice as big as I was during my seventh grade year. Due to his enormous size, Rodney loved to eat. He loved eating so much that he usually at two lunches at school each day, his and mine.

I can only assume that his great desire in life was to become some sort of ace marksman as he would spend all day flipping elastics at me. When Rodney really got bored and wanted a little fun, he would pretend to be a caveman and slap me around a bit during recess.

This went on for several months...until one fateful day. We were both on the bus, heading home. Rodney was in the back which meant that I had strategically placed myself near the front of the bus. On that day, I had reason to stay as far away from Rodney as I could. I had been given a perfectly weighted tournament play "Wham-O" frisbee. I caressed the round disc gently and admired the sparkling cherry red gleam. I knew that this frisbee was special. Believe it or not, I could actually throw this frisbee further and, when I did, it would fly faster. This was a toy to be treasured and prized. This was a toy that had to be kept away from Rodney.

"Hey Egghead!!!" came a creepy voice from the back of the bus. It was Rodney. I didn't even have to turn around and look. I knew it. He was the only one who still called me by that nickname. Man, I hated that nickname!! Time froze as I turned around to verify the obvious. Rodney lumbered toward me. Everything and everyone seemed to be moving in slow-motion. I gasped in horror as Rodney slowly inched toward me. His big hands were reaching for the frisbee. I had been so stupid!! What had I been thinking? Didn't I know that ultimately it would play out like this? Before I could pull away, before I could turn to run, before I could even start to cry like a little baby; Rodney had my frisbee.

A strange look flashed across Rodney's face. I almost laughed as I realized that now that he had my frisbee, he had no idea what to do with it. I relaxed a little and, for one brief moment, I thought that maybe I could talk him into giving it back to me.

"Hey Rod. Come on man. Give it back."

No response.

"C'mon Rodney. My dad gave it to me."

No response.

What was wrong with this guy? Couldn't he be reasoned with? I felt that I had no choice but to beg him to give it back.

Rodney just laughed.

I threw myself at his feet. I cried. I whimpered like a hurt little animal. All to no avail.

Given enough time, Rodney had realized there really was only one appropriate "bully-type" thing that could be done with the flying disc. It would have to be thrown out of the window.

I wiped a tear from my eye as I tried to catch one last glance of my frisbee as it floated gracefully out the window and on to the street and gutter below. I knew that when I returned later that evening, it would be gone. My jewel, my prize, was lost forever.

I turned away from as many as possible as I wiped away the last of my tears. Lifting my head, I looked up at Rodney. He was grinning from ear to ear. Immediately, my sorrow turned to red-hot anger. I was pissed off!! I had given my lunch to Rodney for the last time. Rodney would slap me around no more. He had committed the ultimate sin and now he would have to pay.

As we exited the bus, I raced over to Rodney and gave him a not so gentle push. As he turned around, I hit him as hard as I could in the stomach.

Rodney looked at me incredulously and started laughing.

I hit him in the stomach again.

Rodney, obviously not understanding the gravity of the situation, was now laughing so hard, he looked to be in pain. However, upon closer scrutiny, I could see a gleam in his eye. It was a gleam that I had seen before. A gleam that said, "Hey Eggy, I'm gonna kick your butt!"

I could tell that he was going to thump on me and I knew I was in serious trouble.

As Rodney was still doubled-over in laughter, I felt that I had one last chance. One final opportunity to share my feelings with my tormentor. So, with everything I had, I hit him in the face. As my fist connected with his nose, I knew that I had hit paydirt. I knew that pain had been inflicted and I knew that I would suffer as a result.

Rodney quit laughing and beat the shit out of me.

To this day, I've never hurt so badly. It was, however, a small price to pay for revenge.

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