A Mauling, A Lie And Two Beatings

I think back to my childhood and wonder how I managed to survive, let alone actually to go on and make something of myself. It is not that I grew up in a poor inner city neighborhood, it’s that we either did stupid things, or went about reasonable things very stupidly. In fact, our collective intellect only excelled when making a mundane task life threatening.

Our discovery of tools only served to further our intent of needless and stupid destruction. We all had bikes; none of us could afford to buy one and none of us wanted to explain how we "got" a bike to our parents. (If they found we had done something wrong they could Officer Butler and he would haul our asses off to jail - a story for another day though). Instead we would scour the back alleys of the city looking for discarded bicycle parts and build our own. Not one was sturdy, not one was safe and not one of was without one of these jalopies.

The summer months were filled manufacturing and maintaining these unsafe mechanical nightmares. Some were so bad that you had to keep a pair of vice grips in your pocket to "tweak" the damn thing in order to ride it two blocks!

Enter Keith Black a new kid to the neighborhood, a.k.a.; "Black" - and no not because were embracing military terminology! He was the darkest kid any of us had seen to date and mistakenly introduced himself using his full name. Not surprisingly the only thing we heard was Black and his introduction to our little rung of hoodlums was met with all out laughter - right in front of his over protective mother; who hated us all from that very moment forward!

Bikeless Black wanted a bike so as a right of passage we sent him on a quest for parts. We all knew of a frame behind Leroy’s house but were afraid to get it because in his backyard lived Sly, half Doberman, half Shepard dog and all mean. Sly would attack anyone at any time except for Leroy. It was not a rarity to here his mom or sister screaming "Leroy come get this damn dog!" Going down that alley was more of a suicide mission than anything else. The frame stayed right was it was at; none of us were brave or stupid enough to get it.

Poor Black did not know about Leroy and he damn sure did not know about Sly. What a better fitting rite of passage than to have the new kid practically mauled to death.

I tell Black where the frame is and that he has to get the frame first so we know what other parts to find and once we get everything we need we will build his bike in his yard. A quick stroll to the alley and we all stop. The frame is sitting at the far end no more than a half block away; a life risking half block. Black felt something was up when we all stopped (I think some one may have even opted to not even go the entry of the alley) but with a little encouragement Black was off to meet his fate. Every few steps he would look back but that was one courageous kid that Black was!

We figured Sly would start raising hell before Black got within two houses of him. Nothing. Black made it all the way to the frame as we were now concerned that Sly was not in his yard at all - which meant everyone was in danger! We were all looking around for Sly when Black decided to yell "I got it" at the top of his lungs!

And sure enough Sly was not in his yard at all. Sly was in the alley. In fact Sly had figured out the art of ambush and was laying in wait behind a pile of trash right across from that damn bike frame! A reddish tan blur making a stealthy bee line for Black when we all screamed bloody murder!

Safety first!

We all take off and hit Kim and Kelley’s front porch when we hear Black’s screams and Sly’s growls. Poor kid wasn’t going to survive his first day. The next thing you know a bloody Black is running out of the alley with Sly on his heels (and almost looking happy about having a new kid gnaw on for a change). Then it happened. Sly ran up beside Black, sized him up and leapt on him as he was running. (This isn’t good). Black though, just kept on running, kept on screaming and kept on getting bit. He must have made it five or six houses before Sly felled him. (Impressive this new kid is, just impressive)!

Leroy comes running down the street and probably saved Black’s life as he beat Sly off of him. Then gave him and admonishment for being behind his house! Leroy and Sly were of the same mold - they even looked alike.

Now we had yet another problem. We just tried to kill the new kid and never once thought of the consequences; we just wanted to see him get bit a few times and now he is just a bloody mess in the middle of the street with an over protective mother to deal with. Kids just don’t think ahead.

We circle the fallen Black and come up with a lie. Some random dog (we had to protect Sly, after all he was both a neighborhood institution and a form of entertainment) attacked us and Black was the one who got caught. It was then that picked him up to his feet and started walking him home explaining what to tell his mother.

Yeah, that worked! As soon as he saw his mother it all came out! That we sent him up there knowing he would be attacked, that we let the dog out before he got there (that was new to us, usually one had that half second response time as Sly was coming over the fence) and that we ran away leaving him to die at the hands of this dog (that part was pretty much true).

All the other mothers could beat us; she did not yet know this so the worst she could do was yell a little bit and try to threaten us by calling our parents - who she does not know (or so we thought). Turns out his mom moved there because she was Trey’s mom’s sister. Instead of going crazy like we thought she would, she calls her sister who is just three doors away. We had no idea until the front porch door swung open and we could see her staring us and talking on the phone! SHIT!

"Terry! Is that you?!"

SHIT! SHIT!

"Get over here right now!"

SHIT SHIT SHIT!

There was seven of us and I am the one singled out. And my day was going so well. Orchestrated a mauling, concocted a lie to save everyone asses; what more could one kid do? Those were huge cool points for the smaller, younger kid. I mean come on! This is a huge feat, this story was to be told for summers to come and I did it! Now you mean to tell me that I have to get a beating from the meanest mother on the block?! It just ain’t right!

And I took my beating too! At one point I thought she was trying to tear the screen door off to hit me with that too. What’s worse is that no one beating stands above the subsequent beating you get when you get home because someone else’s mom had to beat you. Now what sense does that make? Hell, your parent got a damn break!

After my whoopin she got right on the phone and I knew who she was calling. I needed some recovery time and tried to round the guys up so I could go in hiding for an hour or two. No such luck. Here comes my aunt and she is looking pissed!

The guys knew it best to part ways for the day and head in different directions because I am all about spreading the wealth of my unfortunate happenings. Before I could point a "he did it" finger, they were gone.

SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!

A mauling a lie and two ass whoopins later and it was all over. It was a good day, a memorable day, an historic day. I championed the rite of passage, saved our most hated dog and took a few licks for mankind.

Hard to believe that summer only got better.

-T