Lunch With a Mongoose by Tom Kropp - HTML preview

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Chapter Nine –
The Fight

 

 

I sat sullenly and quietly on the bus on the way home that night. I was embarrassed at having been caught daydreaming by the detention teacher. To top that off, I ran into the principal on the way to the bus. To make matters even worse, I wasn't able to visit the store across the street. And worst of all, since I had been daydreaming about a story that my friend Sam had told me, I found that I missed talking with him.

The only good thing about the day so far was I didn't have homework for a change because I had done it all in detention. I decided to take a walk after I returned from school to ease my black mood. When I got into one of these kinds of moods, I could be pretty rotten. I told my mom that I would be back in a little while and took off the hole in the fence. My favorite area to walk was just outside the base in the cane fields. The solitude that I found there was just what a wounded ego needed.

Wondering around aimlessly, I spent the time deep in thought. I was so entrenched in my thoughts that I didn't even hear the rustling of the cane stalks as I walked along. Had I been paying attention, I would have realized that I was not alone. I walked and muttered and walked and muttered. Sometimes I would stop walking and stand there muttering.

"It just isn't fair. I wasn't doing anything. Why do they have to pick on me anyway?" I was talking about the reason I was in detention in the first place; the fight I had on the football field during recess. I didn't realize at that moment that I had an audience. I may have been a little more cautious had I known who was following me.

"Rough day at school, Mike?"

"Yea, but what would you know about it?" I asked.

Just then I realized that I was not alone as I thought! Now who could that be? I looked around only to see more sugar cane. I wasn't tall enough to see over it. I was really scared now! I bolted into a gallop but was not fast enough. Sam reached his huge hand out and grabbed me by the back of my shirt.

"It seems that I am always reaching out to grab you, Mike. Why are you always in such a hurry? You've got to learn to slow down and assess the situation before acting."

Boy! Was I relieved! It was my friend Sam!

"How long have you been following me?" I asked.

"Since you came through the fence," Sam answered.

"You certainly are a good sight for sore eyes."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"I got into a fight the other day at school and was put in detention because of it. It really wasn't my fault."

"It never is your fault. It seems to me that if everyone would treat each other with courtesy and respect, the world would be a better place to live."

"You just don't understand," I pouted. "You are just like all the rest of the adults. I thought you were my friend."

"I am your friend and I do understand," Sam replied. "In fact I probably understand better than you think."

I could sense that there was a story corning, so I kept quiet.

"Do you remember that after I got out of the Navy I had several jobs? One of them was as a carpenter. I was pretty good, too. I may have been too good. The foreman and I didn't get along. I think it was because I was actually a better carpenter than he was and he was jealous of my abilities.

"He constantly picked on everything that I did, trying to find fault with it. He even when so far as to tell me that I had to re-do a wall that I had just completed. He said that it wasn't straight. I knew that it was straight and told him so. He kept on until I finally got so mad that I hit him.

"I probably wouldn't have gotten into trouble because everyone knew he was out to get me. But I couldn't help myself. I kept hitting and hitting him. I knew it was wrong for me to hit him but he had made me so mad.

"I hurt him pretty bad. I think I broke his jaw and knocked out a few teeth. I was asked to leave by the boss. I could leave without a fuss and he wouldn't press charges. What else could I do but leave? So you see, I do know what it is like to be wrongly accused of something."

"Yea. I guess you do, but that doesn't make me feel any better."
"Do you want to talk about it? It might make you feel better to get it out in the open."

"Well, I don't know. It's kind of a long story. I don't want to take up your time."

"Where do I have to go? I don't have to be anywhere special."

"That's why I like you. You always have time to listen."

"That's what friends are for, Mike."

I started to tell Sam all about the football game. I thought that it was unfair that fouls that were obvious were not being called. I thought the other team was playing dirty by trying to get away with as much as possible. Of course I didn't tell Sam that our team was probably doing just as much.

Sam listened intently as I poured out my heart to him. As usual, he was right. I was beginning to feel better the more I talked. I don't know for how long or about what I talked. I just rambled about anything that popped into my head.

Soon I began to realize that it was getting darker. I had been talking for so long and intently I lost all track of passing time. I would probably be punished for being so late and missing dinner. The time I spent with Sam was worth it as long as I was not grounded.

"Sam, I'm going to have to be going home," I said.

"I understand," Sam said. "I'll walk you to the fence."

"That would be fine. Do you think I will be able to see you again soon?"

"It will depend on your parents. What are you going to tell them?"

"I will tell them I fell asleep."

"Didn't I tell you before to always tell the truth?"

"Yea, but they won't understand."

"Try it. You may surprise yourself."

We walked slowly back toward the base. I was reluctant because of the certain punishment I was going to receive. I guess Sam didn't want to give up the time with me. All good things seem to come to an end too soon.