I couldn’t believe my luck. The bully hadn’t pounded me, I had gotten credit for knocking him out, and I had escaped without a major punishment! Back in class the kids all looked excited and smiled at me. Rishi yelled, “Rodney Balboa!” and I raised my arms like the champ.
“Silence, Rishi,” hollered Mrs. Lutzkraut, smacking her hand down on top of her desk. “And you, sit down!” She jumped up from her chair and was in front of my desk with her finger pointing at my nose. “I have taught many years,” she began. For a second my mouth started to say, “That’s obvious,” but I managed to clamp it shut. She continued, “And in all my years I have never had anyone behave so badly, act so rudely, and care so little as you. You managed to do this all in one day. You can join me for recess this week and the next, and I promise you, your parents will know all about your behavior when I phone them later. Do you understand?”
She was breathing hard and staring at me. Eventually she returned to her desk and I exhaled. She sure knew how to take the thrill out of my victory. In fact, I started to feel sorry for myself and was worrying about what would happen when my parents found out. Then I started worrying about Toby and the bus ride home. I looked around the class and suddenly noticed something a lot more interesting than Toby. A real pretty blond girl was looking right at me. She mouthed the words, “Are you all right?”
I nodded and thought, Now I am.
For the rest of the afternoon I spent my time focused on her until Mrs. Lutzkraut announced it was time to line up for the buses. We trudged down the hallway, my nervousness growing with each step. I saw my bus and reluctantly climbed aboard.
A rowdy cheer greeted me. Kids clapped and waved, and all over the bus they hollered, “Sit here!” or “Great job, Rodney!”
The one boy not yelling was the one I had been worrying about. He sat in the seat right behind the driver, cowering. Any closer and he’d be sitting in the driver’s lap. I smiled to myself. Without Josh, Toby wasn’t a danger. I would later find out I was wrong about that, but for now he was on his best behavior.
I made my way to the back of the bus, where Rishi motioned for me to join him. “I have taken the liberty of reserving the preferred back seat for you, sir,” he said, acting like a snooty waiter. He snapped his fingers. “Slim, wipe it down.”
Like a busboy, Slim jumped up and wiped the seat with his backpack. “The previous customer who occupied this seat,” he explained, “was met by an unfortunate accident at recess and may never sniff again. I hope you have better luck. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Yeah, root beers all around,” I joked. Rishi laughed and sat down. We happily discussed the fight and made fun of Toby sniveling in the front. I looked around the bus and realized what a difference a day makes. Unfortunately, I knew I wouldn’t be enjoying such a great welcome once back at home, thanks to Mrs. Lutzkraut.
When I got there, however, my mom greeted me with a big smile, asking, “So how was your first day of school?”
“Uh, fine, I guess.” I couldn’t believe it. Maybe Mrs. Lutzkraut wasn’t all that bad. Maybe she just pretended to act mean in front of the class.
“And how was your teacher?” my mom asked. Brrriiiinnngggg!! The phone interrupted her. She picked up the receiver and I cringed. “Hello,” she said. “Yes, hi, how are you? . . . Oh . . . Really? . . . Well, I—I can’t believe he’d . . . Taken to the hospital? . . . Yes, I understand it’s very serious. . . . I understand . . . I am very sorry about this, we’ll certainly talk to him. . . . Yes, we’ll punish him too . . . . Yes, severely . . . Yes, okay, I’ll talk to you soon. . . . Sorry . . . Okay, bye,” and with that she hung up. My mom held her chest for a second. “Rodney, get to your room. Just wait till your father gets home.”
About an hour later I heard him walk in. In less than a minute I was being summoned downstairs. Sitting in front of both my parents, I was asked to explain what had happened, which I did, leaving out the baseball.
“So, you punched him in the nose?” my dad asked.
“Yes.”
“He had his friend with him?”
“Yes,” I replied again.
“So, you’re saying you took on two bullies, and you knocked one out?”
“Uh, yeah . . . that’s what happened.”
My dad then stood up and I got ready for the lecture. I hated his talks. They could be threatening but, worse than that, they had a way of making me feel guilty. He was good at it, and both my mother and I waited.
Strangely, he didn’t say anything. He started throwing imaginary punches in the air. “Gave him the old Rathbone Hook, did you?” He was now ducking and weaving like Muhammad Ali.
“Donald! Donald, your son hit a boy today, and you’re, you’re . . . What are you doing?”
“Honey,” my dad turned to my mother, “a boy has to defend himself.”
“But . . .”
“Sweetie, you were never a boy, and there are times you have to fight.”
“Well, I don’t think encouraging . . .”
“Honey Bunny, no one’s encouraging anything. He defended himself, and that is what a boy sometimes has to do. Maybe he should take boxing lessons. He may be a real talent.”
“Absolutely not!” My mom ended it, and a good thing, too. I doubted my real right hook could knock out a pigeon.
My parents left me in the den. My smile faded when my sister, Penny, walked in. “You won a fight?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
She gave me a look that made me uneasy. “How did that happen?” she asked. “I thought you were scared of everyone. Last year, didn’t that second grader chase you all the way home?”
I remembered the nasty second grader with a shiver. How was I to know he was holding a lollipop and not a club? Of course, I wasn’t about to admit that to Penny, who was only eight but too smart for my own good. “No, that was a race. Which I won, I might add.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Isn’t it your bedtime?” I asked, shoving her out of the den.
Later that night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling with my head resting on my hands. I thought about the day. It was awesome. Overall, things couldn’t be better. I would soon find out, however, that it’s harder to maintain an excellent reputation than it is to get one.