I didn’t have any friends at school, didn’t want any. I felt better
being alone. I sat on a bench and watched the others play and they looked foolish to me. During lunch one day I was approached by a new boy. He wore knickers, was cross-eyed and pigeon-toed. I didn’t like him, he didn’t look good. He sat on the bench next to me.
“Hello, my name’s David.”
I didn’t answer.
He opened his lunch bag. “I’ve got peanut butter sandwiches,”
he said. “What do you have?”
“Peanut butter sandwiches.”
“I’ve got a banana, too. And some potato chips. Want some potato
chips?”
I took some. He had plenty, they were crisp and salty, the sun shone
right through them. They were good.
“Can I have some more?”
“All right.”
I took some more. He even had jelly on his peanut butter sandwiches. It dripped out and ran over his fingers. David didn’t seem to notice,
“Where do you live?” he asked.
“Virginia Road.”
“I live on Pickford. We can walk home together after school. Take some
more potato chips. Who’s your teacher?”
“Mrs. Columbine.”
“I have Mrs. Reed. I’ll see you after class, we’ll walk home together.”
Why did he wear those knickers? What did he want? I really didn’t like him. I took some more of his potato chips.
That afternoon, after school, he found me and began walking along beside me. “You never told me your name,” he said.
“Henry,” I answered.
As we walked along I noticed a whole gang of boys, first graders, following us. At first they were half a block behind us, then they closed the gap to several yards behind us.
“What do they want?” I asked David. He didn’t answer, just kept walking.
“Hey, knicker-shitter!” one of them yelled. “Your mother make you shit in your knickers?”
“Pigeon-toe, ho-ho, pigeon-toe!”
“Cross-eye! Get ready to die!”
Then they circled us.
“Who’s your friend? Does he kiss your rear end?”
One of them had David by the collar. He threw him onto a lawn. David
stood up. A hoy got down behind him on his hands and knees. The other boy shoved him and David fell over backwards. Another boy rolled him over and rubbed his face in the grass. Then they stepped back. David got up again. He didn’t make a sound but the tears were rolling down his face. The largest
boy walked up to him. “We don’t want you in our school, sissy. Get out of
our school!” He punched David in the stomach. David bent over and as he did, the boy brought his knee up into David’s face. David fell. He had a bloody nose.
Then the boys circled me. “Your turn now!” They kept circling and as
they did I kept turning. There were always some of them behind me. Here I was loaded with shit and I had to fight. I was terrified and calm at the
same time. I didn’t understand their motive. They kept circling and I kept turning. It went on and on. They screamed things at me but I didn’t hear
what they said. Finally they backed off and went away down the street. David was waiting for me. We walked down the sidewalk toward his place on Pickford Street.
Then we were in front of his house.
“I’ve got to go in now. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, David.”
He went in and then I heard his mother’s voice. “David! Look at
your knickers and shirt! They’re torn and full of grass stains! You do this almost every day! Tell me, why do you do it?”
David didn’t answer.
“I asked you a question! Why do you do this to your clothes?”
“I can’t help it, Mom . . .”
“You can’t help it? You stupid boy!”
I heard her heating him. David began to cry and she beat him harder. I stood on the front lawn and listened. After a while the beating stopped. I could hear David sobbing. Then he stopped.
His mother said, “Now, I want you to practice your violin lesson.”
I sat down on the lawn and waited. Then I heard the violin. It was a very sad violin. I didn’t like the way David played. I sat and listened for some time but the music didn’t get any better. The shit had hardened inside of me. I no longer felt like shifting. The afternoon light hurt my eyes. I
felt like vomiting. I got up and walked home.