This post is a continuation from the last one.Markie D walked to his house just around the corner from his grammar school for lunch everyday. As the omega male of the Wolf Pack it was hard bumping elbows with the brood when the chaotic scramble happened every morning as the older boys scavenged for anything they could put in a lunch sack. With the fighting, the name calling and the pulling of hair, Markie decided it was best to stay under the radar and not even try to compete. By the time it came along for him to glean the kitchen for scraps there was nothing left over other than tainted milk, wilted celery, and the leftover something that had begun to grow green hair. Opening the Tupperware lid on his ancient treasure, Mark gagged and almost threw up and then received a thump on the head by one of older guys. Other than that, the only thing edible that survived the ravages of the Wolf Pack was dry sourdough bread from the Pioneer day-old store. He wasn't about to pack a piece of dry bread, not when he could walk home and toast it!
And that's what he did. He lived on sourdough toast for lunch everyday.
But to his dismay, he discovered the terrifying newsflash that Chewbacca (a brother, who was 8 years older and like 12 feet taller) was home at that time from Santa Monica City College every Tuesday and Thursday. Chewbacca, in a moment of evil inspiration, had just invented a new form of torture that he affectionately termed a "Template." We left off last time, when Markie D had just woken up from his unconscious stuper after being knocked out and left on the floor in the cruel trick by his older brother. The runt of the litter, toasted his sourdough bread and happily staggered back to lunch recess with his blonde bangs swaying off his forehead (although he had plastered his hair earlier in his father's frugal concoction of sugar-water instead of hair gel).
Ironically, the poor little fella was a happy little soul - perhaps even, quite too happy for his circumstances. Though he thought of himself as special... like Joseph in the Bible... this designation "Special" may have been more in line with the way that word is used when thinking about "The Short Yellow Bus" - kind of "Special."
Last year, in 4th grade, when Mrs. McNellis was reading Charlotte's Web to the class (and fell asleep while reading) MARK DISCOVERED something amazing for the first time! GIRLS!
With something like 7 or 8 older brothers at home and with only two toilets in the house, you can image the dilemma. It meant there were desperate times when 4 or 5 of the boys had to pee in the toilet at the same time....if any went into the toilet, that was a miracle. Poor Markie had to squeeze in between a forest of legs, and being just about "po-po" height (compared to the guys who were 2 or more feet taller) - he knew was a boy was. Hello, no problem with that one!
It took him this long, however, to figure that girls were different from boys... a different gender...a different
species and he was suddenly intrigued as he looked across the 4th grade classroom (while the teacher had fallen asleep) and fell in love with Roberta. Not the girls his house, but girls in the outside world were soft and cute and, well, different (maybe even nice) he imagined. He had tried his affections on Janet and hit her over the head with his book causing the little teeth in her hair barrette to draw blood. That relationship lasted about three hours when her parents got the phone call and Sister Superior and everyone started yelling at him. 
Roberta had the most beautiful, thick auburn hair and he was in love - whatever loved looked like to a 4th grader. Markie wasn't going to hit her over the head (that didn't work) yet other than that, he didn't know what to do, but to stare and daydream. Richard Stiman was a man of action....he told Roberta he liked her and Markie lost the girl of his dreams. By 5th grade Markie knew he had no chance with the girls, because there were guys who already had traces of hair on their upper lip, like Richard Arredondo. Hair on Markie's lip was about 25 years down the road. No chance with the girls meant, that Markie had no chance at discovering what this illusive thing called love - was all about. He was Mowgli, who was all alone in the jungle. (Enough of the back story) Whistling and staggering his way back onto Saint Mark's School property holding up his warm buttered sourdough toast as if it were a glorious trophy - symbolic of enduring Chewbacca 's "Template of Brain Damage."
This toasted bread was the envy of every 5th grader who had to chock down stale peanut and squished jelly sandwiches. His stock value suddenly increased...he was important for a minute. He liked the feeling of being liked. The boys in that corner of the schoolyard lined up and Markie granted one bite apiece. ONE BITE... Markie had not even had the chance to eat one-half of his toast yet and was reluctantly giving most of his prized possession away.
BAD! BAD! BAD Mistake! Michael might have outweighed Markie D by 50-60 lbs... and had no idea that the little runt had to fight Ulrich and his Small Napoleons - like very day. Bad choice bully Michael, this was just not your lucky day.
But when that little guy tightens the sinew of his muscle mass and his pupils pin-point, it's like a metamorphosis from Dr. Hyde to Mr. Jekyll takes place. And when that Pitbull sinks his teeth into the neck of that German Shepherd, suddenly you fell sorry for the poor, pathetic, self-assured German Shepherd who thought he was "All That!"
You might even be compelled to get a stick and beat the Pitbull off of the humbled-terrorist of a bully.
Do I need to say anything more - other than poor, big, self-assured, bully Michael, who though he was "All That," received more than he bargained for.
It did take about two teachers and three kids to pull Markie off of the big bully...his ear got pinched by Sister Godzilla, as he was sent to the Principal's office to the cheers of admiring 5th graders.
Pray for Michael, but don't feel sorry for Markie...his stock value went up in school that day... and now maybe, he had a chance with the ladies and could find out what this thing called love was all about.
Unbeknownst to him, the closest thing Markie would come touching love, to finding love and experiencing love...came every Friday with Irene. She was the cleaning lady from Watts who knew a thing or two about bullies, about prejudice, about enduring, and fully understood about glorious trophy of true love.
You
may have heard that. “Sticks and stones may break your bones, but names will
never hurt you!”
Yeah, well… I think I would put it a different way, “Sticks
and stones may break your bones – they will heal, but names can hurt for a
long time.”
It was Tuesday and Markie would have to wait until Friday. Until then, he sang one of the songs Irene had taught him.
Go Down Moses
Way down in Egypt Land
Tell old Pharaoh
To let my People Go
When Israel was in Egypt land
Let my people go
Oppressed so hard they could not stand
Let my people go
“Thus spoke the Lord,” bold Moses said
“If not, I’ll smite your first born
dead..
Let my people go
Little did you know Mark... but you were noticed and admired... I may have been one of the tallest in our class but I had no tools when it came to self esteem or even how to defend myself... you see I got the ribbing for being tall... just like you for being small..I wish i had someone like Irene... I remember those bullies and I just wanted to be invisible to them.... no such luck.... Jonsey xx
ReplyDeleteSorry Jonsey, Just like you had no idea about my inner workings, I thought you had it all together and no idea what you wre going through. Later in life I realized that as people were are all created for relationship and because we are fallen people all of us live in some degree of dysfuntional relationships that leave us longing.
DeleteI believe that it the reason I shifted in the second half of my life into ministry...just to let people know they are loved by a gracious God who accepts each one of us jsut the way we are.. warts and all..tall or small.