Two Bullies Meet Their Match

The two bigger boys crowded around David, pushing and shoving him, their loutish faces drawn into snarls. Their breaths stank to high heaven. The nasty McConahay twins were nearly two years older and notorious playground bullies. They had waited until recess to pounce. Robert MacDougall had gone home sick that morning, so they didn't have to worry about him. Old Mr. Reilly and the watery-eyed Mr. Douglas along with the other teachers had gone to the threadbare lounge to smoke, talk about the women, complain about the misfortunes of life, and share a few pulls of cheap whiskey. As long as they stayed sober enough to teach the brats and maintain order in the classroom, the mutton-chopped Headmaster Mr. Gordon C. Watts didn't give a donkey's ass what they did. He himself stayed in his sparse little office to take his usual nap during the break time, head tilted against the high-backed chair, snoring away.

The other kids playing around the shabby weed-infested schoolyard immediately stopped what they were doing to watch, but were afraid to get too close. Pretty Rose McDonald bravely started to come over to his aid, but David grimly waved her off.

He could feel the heat rising in his face but stayed calm, looking from one boy to the other, gauging their reach, coolly determining who he should hit first. Though he'd kept his promise to his father until now to never fight, he knew deep inside he'd always had the ability. The angrier he got the more detached and intense his concentration became to inflict punishment, as he coldly viewed the two taunting twins circling him.

"Yer ma is nothin' but cheap trash and a hoor, she is!" spat Brian.

"Yah, and 'cause she's a hoor, that makes you, yer big brother, and yer little sister unholy brats, it does, MacDougall," snarled Toby, the other one, pointing his thick index finger right in David's face.

"Andy O'Henry beat on yer Ma 'cause she's nothin' but a worthless h--"

A fast right cross rocked Brian McConahay flush on the side of his jaw, dropping the dazed and surprised older boy to his knees. Before Toby could react, David hit him with a flurry of hard jabs, breaking and bloodying his huge nose and splitting his lip. Toby backed away, cursing and cupping his hand over his bleeding mouth and nose. He stood staring, unbelieving, then pulled his twin roughly by the collar. Enraged now, he screamed, "Get up! Get up, Brian. Och, me fuckin' nose! He broke it. The little bastard broke it. Come on, Brian, let's take this sonnabitch."

Once the fight started, the crowd of spectators broke into raucous cat-calls, some toadies urging the twins on to victory because they feared retribution, others urging David on because they despised the McConahay brothers.

Unperturbed by either the sudden noise or his two opponents, David took a sudden step forward to get inside Toby's reach. He ducked under one haymaker and blocked several wild swings. The bigger boy got lucky once and caught David a glancing blow to his cheek. But then his luck ran out. Bobbing and weaving, David landed six sharp punches into Toby's lower abdomen and center chest, right over his heart. Toby suddenly gasped for air, leaning forward and clutching his stomach in pain. David finished him off with a left to the chin. Brian, standing up now, started to swing, too, but thought better of it. He hurriedly backed out of reach, holding his hands up in surrender.

The bullies had made the unfortunate mistake of assuming David was the weaker fighter of the two MacDougall brothers simply because he was the younger and smaller.

"What the devil is a goin' on out here!" Mr. Reilly had heard the growing commotion from the opened lounge window and because he had given up the most comfortably cushioned armchair to go investigate the noise, he was furious and out for blood.

Brian immediately exclaimed, "MacDougall started it, sir! He knocked me down, then attacked me brother, he did. Just vicious, he is! I dinna know what came over him, sir. We was just havin' a little chat with him when he went crazy." An innocent look was plastered on Brian's countenance. His twin rushed to his side, vigorously nodding in agreement and pointing to the smears of blood clotted in his nostrils and over his mouth and chin.

"MacDougall, is this true? Did you attack these boys?"

"Aye, because they were calling me mother bad names, sir, and wouldn't stop."

"Sticks and stones, Mr. MacDougall, words dinna hurt you. Or yer Ma, either. Lad, you canna be a using your fists every time someone says a word o' two you dinna happen to agree with. Do you understand?" He looked sternly at David for several moments. "Do you understand me?" he repeated, harshly.

"Yes, sir," David finally mumbled, staring at Reilly's lump of an Adam's apple that bobbled up and down as the man spoke.

Reilly kept glaring at the boy. "Aye, I grew up with Alan MacDougall, yer uncle. He was a hothead, too. A bad seed, all around. Wound up killin' a man, he did, over some trifling thing." He folded his arms, tapping his chin with one hand, deep in thought. "Aye, we need to teach you a hard lesson, laddie. I'll be askin' the Headmaster to suspend you for a whole week, and I'll be makin' damn sure yer father knows about it. So you can just forget about a playin' hooky and lying to yer Pa about missing school."

David's face hardened again. "I never tell a lie, sir. Ever."

Reilly scowled at the boy; very few students stood up to the crusty old teacher. "Maybe yes. Maybe no. I'll be a speakin' again to you, MacDougall, before yer suspension starts. Brian! Toby! Come with me to the Headmaster's office. I want the old man to see the damage for himself."

By author Jack King, www.jack-king.com, @authorjacking, authorjackking@gmail.com