The Adventures of Stevie #30
These stories were told to me by friends and other people. Some of them
are true. Some of them are only partly true. Some of them should have
been true. LOL
My first post about Stevie ("Call me Stephen!") was when he was 12 and
in summer camp and was told by another camper. This was from a time
before computers would fit on a desk and when people communicated with
friends in other countries by actual letters sent through the postal
service. When children did this those friends were called "penpals".
Carlos is Stevie's penpal in Argentina and knows English. This is a
fictional contrivance to enable Stevie to tell us his stories because
he isn't here in person. I think.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
Stevie's school is for gifted children who don't fit in regular schools.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stevie is 11 in this story. It takes place 3 weeks after story #29.
The Adventures of Stevie #30 "Mother and a Rule"
Dear Carlos,
Mother wants me to leave the school, only she doesn't know it. Before
I tell you about that, I have to tell you something else which will
help you know about what I did about it.
I play chess. I really play it. Most people don't really play while
they play chess, they work hard at it. I don't have to work hard at it,
so I can play, because I'm really good at it. So is all our family,
except mother. I'm the best, though. That's not bragging because I
always beat them. Father likes to use chess to help explain about life,
and how you can use what you do in chess to help you in real life
situations. To play it well, you have to think about the next move you
make, and what the other guy can do about it, and then what you can do
about what he can do about it, and keep thinking that as far into the
future you can go, before you make your move. The very best players can
do that almost to the end of the game, from the first few moves. You
can do that in real life too, not just in the game. We have a short
word for that kind of thinking ahead. We call it "chessing" at school,
or "chess it," after I told them about father's idea. I do it all the
time for everything. I do it in my sleep too. That's what dreams are
really for. Now you will understand how and what I did.
Here is what happened.
My parents told me to come to a meeting with them at home after
school. Mother told me she doesn't want Tommy to visit me anymore. I
asked why. She said "Don't talk back to me!" That means she knows she
is wrong but won't admit it, so I knew father had told her that
already, and left it up to me to prove she is wrong, if I can, without
her making him spank me, so he can still sleep in the same bed with
her.
I said "But I need to know why you don't like him, so I can make sure
I don't bring any other people here like that, which you wouldn't want
me to. Wouldn't you like that?" Father told her "That's a reasonable
request. Why don't you tell him?" She told me "Because he teaches you
fighting. I don't want you to fight. You don't need to learn how." I
must have looked as surprised as I felt at how stupid she sounded.
Father signaled "caution" at me. Then I realized what it could all
mean. I would have to leave the school because learning fighting is a
requirement for students who can. And then something else hit me like a
bomb exploding in my heart. She wanted me to die.
I started crying. Father looked surprised, and that surprised me. I
did something he never expected! I beat him. That made me almost stop
crying. Mother said "What are you crying for? Stop acting like a baby!"
So I told her "Because you want me to die!" Mother yelled "What?!?!"
and raised her hand to slap me. Then father did something I never
expected, something I never saw him do before. He grabbed her wrist and
pushed her arm down and said to her "Lets find out what he means before
we jump to conclusions." Before she could catch her breath and yell at
him too, I told him "I need to know how to defend myself if somebody
wants to hurt me." Mother calmed down a little and said "Nonsense! If
you obey the Golden Rule, nobody will hurt you." I cried some more in
frustration. She said "Now what's the matter?"
Now I had my opening, but I was really afraid to use it. I decided to
do it a little move at a time. I asked her "Why do you keep doing
that?" She looked confused and said "What do you mean?" I said "Why do
you keep saying things which are not true? You do that a lot and it's
very confusing." She said "I do not! If you don't fight, people won't
want to fight with you or hurt you." Then I let her have it. I screamed
at her "BUT THEY ALREADY DID!" This time father grabbed her hand before
she could raise it to slap me, and used his sharp voice to her and said
"Wait, I want to hear about this," and to me, "Go head, explain." I
did. I will tell you.
I was walking home from school after the only detention I ever had. I
was in grade 3, and the busses were already gone. It was 2 miles to get
home. There were other kids in the area, but I didn't pay them any
attention. I should have, but it wouldn't have changed anything. 4 boys
followed me. They were 6 graders, and bigger than most, like I was the
opposite for a 3 grader. When I got to a metal fence they came up
behind me and attacked me. They knocked me down and my books went
flying. I rolled around to try to get away, but they kept jumping on
me. They tried to hit and kick me but they missed because I was moving
so fast, but I couldn't get away. Then somehow I was on top of the
biggest attacker. Then he rolled over and I was really pinned on the
bottom under him, and I saw he was going to punch me in my face and I
couldn't stop him. Then it happened.
No, not the punch. One of his friends had grabbed a loose pipe from
the fence and was going to hit me when I was on top. Instead he hit the
boy who was now on top of me, across the shoulder blades. I think if he
had hit him higher or lower, that boy would be dead. If I had still
been on top, that pipe would have hit me in the back of my neck, and I
would not be here to tell you this. The boy he hit yelled and jumped
off me. Then I got mad.
I knew they were trying to beat me up, but I didn't know till then
they wanted to kill me. I had thought it was more like a game, thought
it was even a little fun, because I wasn't hurt yet. But now a boy was
hurt and I didn't like that at all. I got mad. REALLY mad. I screamed
at them like I was a wild animal, and acted like it too. They ran away
from me, and I CHASED them. One of them even climbed the fence and fell
over to the other side and rolled down the steep hill. The other boys
ran along side the fence in both directions until I couldn't see them
any more. I calmed down, picked up my books, and finished walking home,
and forgot about it, and never told anybody what happened. I never saw
those boys again.
I could tell father was really surprised, and a little upset. I like
surprising him because it's so hard to do. It's like a game for me,
which I hardly ever win. Now I did it 2 times in one day! I felt good
about that, but not good about making him upset for me. Mother ruined
it with "Why didn't you run away? You should have, and all that
wouldn't have happened." I said "You did it again!" She said "Did
what?" I said "You said something that's not true again." Before she
could say something back, I said "I was only 8, but I wasn't dumb
enough to try to run away from boys who could run 3 times faster than
me. And turn my back on them? Never! I knew all that wouldn't work.
What I don't understand now is why you don't. You are much older than I
am. You should know these things every smart kid knows. I don't know
why you don't. The Golden Rule didn't work. I never did ANYTHING to
those boys. I couldn't have because I never saw them before, but they
attacked me. The Golden Rule didn't stop them. When you say I have to
obey it, it means to me you want me to DIE! I didn't die then just
because of luck. I can't expect to be that lucky the next time it
happens, and it WILL. Haven't you noticed I'm too small for my age, and
I'm different? That makes me a target for all the bullies who see me.
So I have a big question for you. Why don't you want me to learn how to
protect myself? Why do you want me to die?"
Father said "That's enough, go to your room," and signaled "work in
progress" to me. That meant I did what he wanted me to do, and he would
do the rest for now. I CHESSED RIGHT!
I left, but still listened to them. Father said "He made some valid
points. He IS choice meat for bullies, more than he realizes. Why don't
we let this rest for now, and talk with him some more about this when
he calms down. Maybe tomorrow. We don't have to make a firm decision on
this issue right away." She said "We'll see." That is the best she can
do to admit she is wrong, but still might never really give up. We will
have to work on her some more, very carefully. Tommy still can't visit
yet, but I am still going to keep learning fighting at school.
Sometimes you have to work very hard to pry open some people's brains
so they can think a little when they really should, before their extra
thick skulls snap shut again. Watch your fingers! They are not really
stupid because they CAN think if they want to. I don't know if I will
ever understand why some people don't want to think so much, they make
themselves so stupid on purpose, they aren't smart enough to know they
did it. Some of those people might be nice. Mother isn't.
Your friend,
Stephen
--
Grant
|
|