Why I Wanted To Get Bigger

My hillbilly opponent was a little smaller than me, but not as skinny, and probably had two names. I know he had red buzz cut hair with a scab on top of his head were somebody nicked him with the clippers. He was grinning and he had huge ears sticking out like Alfred E Newman from Mad Magazine.

“No kicking, scratching or biting, or hair pullin like you all’s a girl," Claude said.

“And no gouging the eyes,” Wayne said. The group had formed a circle, my opponent in the center. Wayne gave me a shove toward him. “First one that gives, looses.”

Our fists raised, we circled each other. He didn’t have any shoes on and kept grinning except just before he threw a punch when he dropped the grin and through out a fist. I kept what I hope was seen as a determined scowl on my face so no one could see how scared I was, bobbing away from his punches.

“You all gonna dance or fight?”

“Hit em,” Wayne said.

We exchanged punches and went back to circling. He hit me hard in the shoulder. I hit him in the stomach. It felt like my punch couldn’t knock over a fly. We went at each other again.

“Now they’re wrestling. I thought you was tough?” Wayne sounded like he was disgusted. We were rolling around in the dirt. Every body was yelling for us to hit each other.

I saw this movie once. A James Bond movie maybe, where one of the bad guys would scissor the guy he was fighting with his legs until the guy passed out. It didn’t work that way when I tried it. The little hillbilly got his arms under my knees and folded my legs over me, pinning me to the ground, but, with my ankles locked, I was squeezing his head and smashing his ears between my knees. We stayed like that a while and then they called it a draw.

“What was that?” Wayne said as we walked back. “He kicked your ass, you know. I thought you was tougher than that,” He had said that before. He was disapointed in me.

“It was a draw.”

“He kicked your ass. And you know it, too.”

One time me a Frankie saw Yudoc coming from Laginza’s. It was after Yudoc had whacked me in the side with the mop handle for taking his tire. He had to come up the stairs to street level. I hid behind the fence separating the sunken yard for the sidewalk while Frankie coaxed him to come up and out the gate so I could jump him. And that’s what happened.

I knew I could beat him up and he was afraid of me. He came out the gate and I jumped up and started punching him and he laughed at me. When I got tired he broke free and ran home. He was always a faster runner than I was. For years after that the only reason I wanted to get bigger was so I could hit people harder.