Seven Words

We didn’t really know each other, but I think that helped a lot. Jimmy was a skinny kid that I first met in the third grade. My mom had just transferred me from another school after learning that they did not have prayers before classes. I was stuck in a very Catholic school that made of point of having prayers every week for every reason. Not just masses, but also sporting events, get-togethers with our sister school (whatever that means), and for almost any reason that they felt was valid. So, it was not the best life for a kid. And maybe that is why I discovered Jimmy.

We were never in the same classroom, but had the same grade. That helped us end up doing the same things with our free time. We played with our particular grades in intramural sports. When they posted the events – hockey, basketball, baseball, soccer, and volleyball – we had to choose something that was not too embarrassing. Not easy at all…for me.

“Ah, we got Mike on our team?”

“Just bring all the players in.”

“Pass it to him. He’ll miss.”

And on and on it went. I tried them all and fell, got tripped, hit, slapped, checked, gouged and ignored all the way to the sixth grade.

I just wanted to read a book or even finish some homework early so that I could go to the library later. Yeah, I was really popular.

Jimmy was different.

What I mean by that is he did not join in when the others started ragging me about how I threw a ball, tried to avoid being hit or kicked during pick-up hockey games in the alleys and cul-de-sacs near our school, or even the way I walked down the hallway (yeah, even that became an issue). He did not stick up for me, but he did not pile on, either. That mattered…for a little while.

We had a moment when things all changed. I was on the playground, playing foot hockey with some other kids who were almost as unpopular as me. I had the ball, as I remember it. We usually played three-on-two (I was in net for the side that needed the extra player).

Like I said, I had the ball. That was probably why it went down the way it did.

“He even trying?”

“Nah, he ain’t. Thinks he can, but no…”

I heard them from just behind me. They were some of the older kids I would see and avoid in the hallway when I could. All I thought about at that moment was when the bell was going to ring for recess to be over. Could not think about the game at that point.

“Well, kick it then. Need a laugh.”

They already had their laughs.

And then I got fed up. I had to say something, even under my breath.

“Look at a mirror, dicks.”

I think if the other guys had not been laughing, they would not have bothered to come after us. Daniel was the worst with that huge guffaw and snort he had. Barry did not really need to do much but grin. The kids who approached knew what was what.

“What? You got something to say?”

“Wise-ass kid…”

“Say it again.”

Could smell them before I saw them – had they just finished gym class? Had to be; like dirt on top of old clothes and mold.

Think that made me cocky; at least I did not care anymore.

“I said…”

They pushed me to the ground before I could even tell them the whole thing. That may have been the reason why I was not really scared, just confused. And that was also the reason why I did not really believe what I was seeing.

Jimmy… He was kicking the tar out of one of the kids as my teammates stared and tried not to laugh. There was now a crowd around us, but most of them were not able to hold back. They had to laugh.

“Way to go, Jimmy!”

“Kick ‘em again. The prick deserves it.”

“Watch your back!”

He really should have. One of the older kids had grabbed him and was about to take a swing. And that was the moment when I knew that I had to join the party.

What possessed me to do what I did, I don’t know. I ran up, flying straight into the back of the kid who had Jimmy in his hands. He fell on his friend and then onto the other kid that Jimmy had the sense to leave on the ground. And that was the moment when a teacher finally showed up and wondered why three of the best athletes were on the ground being mocked by a schoolyard full of kids who ignored the recess bell (I did not even hear it).

“Mr. Stindall…they beat us up…”

“You gotta believe us…”

“My face…”

Mr. Stindall, the gym teacher – a wonderful touch for that moment – looked at them sprawled on the ground, and said the only thing that a man with any responsibility over kids could say:

“Get your stupid asses up and back in the school.”

No one there spoke for moment. We were just too impressed with the line. And then the laughter continued as we walked into the school.

Jimmy looked over at me as I walked to the main doors.

I looked over at Jimmy as he walked to the other doors.

And we both grinned.

*

We were friends after that. The principal wanted to see the pair of us after the fight (not really a “fight,” but what else could you call it?), and just laughed when he compared us to the three standing there with bruises and glares.

“These two? These?”

And that was it. We went back to our classes. But before that happened, he said something interesting…

“Next time, make sure that I’m there first.”

“Um, yeah, okay… You gonna protect me from now on?”

“I got two older brothers. Won’t touch either of us if they find out.”

He smiled again, and then ran down the hallway.

I really did not think that I’d be okay, but he was right about the threat going away. They did not even come after us when the school day was over. I lived pretty close to the school, but Jimmy was on the other side of the neighbourhood. I knew that he was close to some of the other kids I knew and he would have a long walk. And yet…I knew he would be safe.

We were both safe.

*

Autumn turned into winter. We still played a lot of foot hockey, and I can say that I did get better at this. No longer in net, so I had to learn how to control things when I was playing against the other team. And then we started to play against some of the older kids, including the ones we knocked around. And it was very strange: they never came after me or Jimmy, not even when we had the ball (drove some of their friends crazy).

“What’re ya doin’?”

“He’s right there! Take it…”

“I’m open! Pick it up…”

And so on and so on.

And I could not help what happened next. Maybe I should have stayed home, but I really needed to know what was going on.

One day, I decided to follow Jimmy to his house.

He didn’t know that I was doing it. I told my mom that I was going to be at the library after school, but I had a plan and a theory. I needed to know something.

Jimmy did live in a nice neighbourhood. I had taken my bike there once, but I did not suspect that he lived in the biggest home there. It was like a palace or something. No cars were in the double driveway, but you could see the tracks in the snow and the lights up on the reindeer and Santa on the wide lawn. I just stood there and let my mind wander.

One theory was almost confirmed.

I rang the bell and waited.

And I waited a little bit longer as I saw the shape of a Jimmy-shaped kid in the frosted glass.

The inner doors popped open a crack.

“Mike?”

He really did look nervous.

“Yeah, sorry, I just…”

“You better get in. Freezing out.”

He was nervous. I was confused. The hallway was almost as wide as the ones at the school.

“You want anything?” He looked past my shoulder at the front of the house. Thought that was strange with the front door closed.

“Um, no, I just…I really wanted to know what was going on.”

“You want to know…? Oh, you mean, ‘Larry, Curly and Moe?’” He finally smiled.

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“Man, look around. Whaddya see?”

I could see a brass shoe rack on a carpeted hallway; a stereo in the front room that was almost as big as my bed; lamps that my mother would have envied. But what else?

“You guys have a lot of stuff?”

“Yeah, we have stuff. People always think that you can do what you want with money. Think those boneheads were just scared to mess with anyone from this part of our neighbourhood.”

“Oh.” I really was just beginning to understand. “And the older brothers?”

“Oh, they’re real.” He pointed at some photos on the wall. Two larger and stronger versions of Jimmy were staring each other down like boxers before a match. They looked like they could handle themselves.

“Right.”

“You sure that you don’t want anything?”

“Naah, I… Maybe I should have stayed away from this, but I just wanted to know what was going on. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” He was already grabbing two mugs from the dish rack in the kitchen where we were standing. “Sorry for what? You just wanted to know something.” He found an electric kettle on the counter and began filling it with water. “Deserves a reward.”

“Reward?”

“Hot chocolate!”

It was strange to think about it afterward, but I really did want some chocolate after that walk in the cold.

“Take a seat, man.” He pointed at a sofa in the front room.

 I found it hard to lean back on that stuffed chair. The stereo took up most of the side of one room. There were a stack of records down the wall by the window. Even the backyard was too large to be believed.

“Wait, I gotta play you this.”

Jimmy ran over to the record player, touched a knob, and it began to glow with green and orange lines on the front panel.

“If anyone else were home, I wouldn’t dare. But this is really cool…”

He took out a record from behind the others, putting the vinyl on the turntable and handing me the sleeve.

I had no idea that this would be a defining moment in my life. Who would? The guy on the cover, sitting on a stool in front of a chalkboard, had a beard, long hair, and one finger up his nose. He looked like a real hippie who somehow ended up in school again.

“You are really gonna love this.” Jimmy ran into the other room as the kettle began to sing. So, I was all alone with this weird hippie and the record.

And those seven words…

I could not repeat those to my mom. I could barely say them back then. But I could laugh. And I did.

I laughed. And then I laughed harder when I heard how he used them. Tears were in my eyes and I almost fell on the floor as Jimmy came in with the hot chocolate and a bag of marshmallows. I had no more theories left.

“Pretty cool, right…?”

“Oh, my god… This is great!”

“Told ya. Thought you might hate it, but you were pretty cool. And you gotta stop being so polite about things. He was a Catholic, too.” He pointed at the clown on the cover.

“Makes sense. Who else could have said that?”

I had that first hit off the mug, and it was the best hot drink I ever had in my life.