On the third day of school when I woke up, I did my chores and went out with my younger brother Jorge to the field behind our house to try to catch some of those rare butterflies. Somehow though, I couldn’t wait to go back to school. Armando was already waiting for me at the bus stop. He had his book bag and of course he was skipping school. Once on the bus he told me not to worry. I guess he knew I was nervous. I nodded as my hand reached for my slingshot inside my book bag. It gave me a sense of comfort.
It was early when we arrived at the school yard. A few girls were still lingering around from morning school. (Girls went to school in the morning). We sat under a birch tree and waited for the bullies to show up. My hand was clenched and sweaty around about four ball bearings. My sling shot was in my back pocket now, ready to go. Armando didn’t seem nervous at all, he just seemed to be in deep thought. After about ten minutes, he turned to me and said “You know we could get beat up today if they decide to fight us but remember, we just have to fight with everything we have. The most important thing is to show them that we are not afraid of them because we are not!” I didn’t say a word.
Then, there he was, coming our way, eating an orange and picking on some of the girls. He was shooting orange peels at their bare legs with a rubber band. I stood up, my heart was beating really hard. Armando stood right in front of him as he called to him. “Hey stinky!” Amando said. The boy stopped and looked at him kind of confused. Then he saw me and understood what was happening. Putting his books down he walked right up to Armando to challenge him. As he got closer, I saw that he was taller than Armando. Instinctively I reached for my sling shot. Armando didn’t waste any time. Quick as lightning, he grabbing him by the shirt, knocked him down on the ground and had his forearm on the boy’s throat! The boy tried to fight back but Armando was already sitting on him and had pinned him to the ground. “That’s my brother” he said. “Don’t you ever pick on him again, or next time I’ll hurt you so bad, you won’t even know what happened to you.” He added, “I know you have friends, but so do we, and if they have to come, it will not be to play games.” He pressed his forearm harder on the boys neck to the point that he had a hard time breathing. His face went from angry to scared.
Armando let go of him and stepped back till he stood next to me. The boy sprung to his feet as he swore, his face was red and his fists clenched. Armando and I just stood and stared at him. By now a whole circle of kids were watching, they could not believe that the bully was down. Some kids tried to help dust the back of his shirt off but he just shoved them away as he walked through the small crowd. Armando picked up the boy’s soiled orange and threw it across the road. We walked back to the spot where we had left our books, and as my brother said goodbye he said, “I don’t think they will bother you again.”
Continued in Part 3…