Yanked from the familiar suburbs of Houston to finish off his 1982-83 junior high school year in the country, Kevin Ferris was fast learning to adjust to the many changes in his young life. Not only had his mom and dad moved him to Pearland, Texas—a small dot of a town that entertained commuters with a single traffic light and snuggled up close to Clover Town—his sister Tammy, who was seven years older, left home to begin college at Louisiana State University.
The country, Kevin thought more than once, is more like the end of the earth and if I take one more step, I’ll just fall right off it.
His new school was not as ethnically diverse as his old one, and it was so far away he had to ride the bus instead of his bicycle. It was as if he had lost all control of his own destiny. At his old school, he was on the swim team and starting to place second and third in some of his events. His coaches even told him he showed natural ability, and if he kept up with his training, colleges would look at him for consideration for scholarships when he reached high school. His new school only offered baseball and football, neither of which he had ever played or wanted to play.
His old school had mostly black and Hispanic students in it, a completely opposite ethnic makeup to his new school. Back in his old school, the division between the student populace was not so much race, but an attitude of toughness. Those kids who could give an air of toughness, and were prepared to fight the good fight if needed, were usually left alone as the bullies sought out softer prey. Kevin, although small for his age and built like a stick—a thin stick—learned very quickly which category he wanted to be in.
Eddie Flowers was Kevin’s best friend, and his dad had been a Golden Gloves boxer in the Navy. Mr. Flowers taught the two of them how to hit a speed bag, which was mounted on the wall of their garage, when the boys were nine years old.
“This is a skill every young man should learn,” Mr. Flowers had explained. Enthralled, the boys watched as the movement of his hands rhythmically bounced the bag faster and faster.
The speed bag was mounted so high on the wall the boys could not reach it. Even if they jumped as high as they could, they would only touch it with the tips of their fingers. Mr. Flowers had stacked up two apple crates just far enough away from the speed bag to where the boys could stand on top of them and hit it at the proper height. Eddie was the first to stand on the crates, swinging his little fists at the bag.
“I’m going to fall, Dad. Can’t we just lower the speed bag?” Eddie had asked.
“If I did that, you wouldn’t learn balance at the same time you’re swinging your fists. A good punch comes from a balanced position. Once you’ve learned how to hit the bag and not fall from the crates, I’ll teach you how to hit with power. Balance is extremely important, son. If you can’t stay on your feet, then you may as well be just another wrestler.”
The boys hung on every word Mr. Flowers said. To them, he was as close to a hero as one could get.
“The next lesson I will teach you is how to protect yourself and not get hit at all. Learning good balance is the first important tool in protecting yourself. But the strongest lesson I want you to remember is to never be the kind of person who uses these skills in bad ways, to bully or harm an innocent person.” Eddie’s father stopped and pointed his finger at the two of them. “Don’t become the bully, because if you do, you have missed the whole reason I am teaching you to box.”
He turned back to the bag and made one last powerful blow that sounded like thunder. The bag smashed against the backboard several times before it hung down and dangled in small circles. “Gentlemen protect others and themselves and are honorable. Bullies protect nothing and are punks.”
Kevin understood immediately and promised to be a faithful student. That afternoon marked his first boxing lesson, one of many that would continue until his family moved away.
Kevin’s new junior high school had its own share of bullies that he would again have to navigate. Eddie and he had developed a keen sense of how to avoid trouble: where to sit for lunch, what cliques to steer clear of, that kind of stuff. Now he had to start all over again.
The timing of having to move before the school year ended was also a stressor for Kevin, but apparently unavoidable. Their old house had sold almost immediately after putting it on the market, and his parents found a hot deal on this new house in Pearland. All these things were wonderful for Jane and Allen Ferris—like all the stars had aligned perfectly for them—but it was just the opposite for Kevin. He was lost in the shuffle of his parents’ excitement about moving to this fabulous home and “safer” community.
His first day at Pearland Junior High was as bad as he’d expected. The bus was a hassle, as no one wanted to share their seat with him. The classroom seating was similar, though thankfully some of the classes had assigned seating. The lockers were all taken. For the first time in his life, Kevin would have to work his way into the rank structure. If this had been the first day of the school year, he could have merged into the population fairly unnoticed. Instead, he was wheeled into his first class in a giant fish bowl guided by one of the school counselors.
“Everyone, please welcome Kevin Farris. He is new. His family just moved here from Houston,” the counselor explained to all the curious onlookers.
Kevin felt as if he were the main attraction at the freak show just outside the circus tents. Step right up folks. Pay a dollar to see the freak.
The counselor held firmly onto Kevin’s shoulders as she directed him to his seat. God, please open up the floor and let me fall in so I can hide was Kevin’s silent prayer.
As Kevin and Mrs. Friendly walked to his desk, everyone’s eyes followed him in perfect unison, as if they were watching a funeral procession. It took fourteen long steps to reach the desk—he counted—where he could at least hide his nervous shaking. He sat down quickly, noticing for the first time that the boy behind him was a black boy, the only black boy in the classroom, maybe in the whole school as far as he’d seen.
Kevin tried to survey the room with his peripheral vision and not be too conspicuous. At least the desk afforded him some camouflage from the curious students, comfortable in their familiar world and well established in the pecking order. Finally, some relief came in the form of quiet chatter as the teacher allowed the students to discuss a passage they had just finished reading prior to Kevin’s glorious arrival.
“Hey, my name is Leonard Parker.” The voice came from behind him, and Kevin turned to see a black hand extended in greeting. Kevin shook it.
Before long, Kevin had a good history of Leonard, who knew how to make the most of his minutes. After explaining that, like Kevin, he too had been yanked up from his cozy world in San Antonio to Pearland just a year ago.
“My mom is Lynette Parker, a teacher here at Pearland.”
“That’s nice.”
“Not really,” said Leonard matter-of-factly. He then went on to tell more about himself, barely breaking for an occasional “uh-huh” from Kevin, who tried his best to keep up. Leonard’s father had been a pilot in the Air Force and died in a plane crash when Leonard was just two years old. His sister Michelle attended Texas A&M University at College Station. His mom finally decided to move herself and Leonard to Pearland to teach at the junior high, to be closer to her relatives, and to get away from the sound of the jets as they flew over their home in San Antonio, which reminded all of them of their late father, whose name was Levi.
Leonard took a breath. Kevin was about to break in with a comment or two of his own, but Leonard started right back up again.
Leonard was of the same mindset that Pearland was like a foreign country. In San Antonio, he had been one of many black students mixed in with a fairly balanced number of whites and Hispanics. Luckily for him, his mother moved them during the summertime. Even though he was one of only six black children in the entire school, starting school with everyone else had made the new school a little less daunting. “It gave me a chance to fit in, instead of feeling like a fish in a big glass bowl.”
“You don’t say,” Kevin said.
Then class was dismissed.
To Kevin’s delight, the boys shared three other classes together. This changed everything for Kevin, as the newness became more tolerable. Leonard also seemed happy with his new friend and the situation, which allowed him to show off his scholarly skills and get Kevin caught up on the curriculum.
During lunchtime, they sat together in the cafeteria and shared more information about themselves over sandwiches, apples, a few slices of cheese, and a Coca-Cola from the vending machine. By the end of the day, the two of them had discovered many similarities between themselves and their families. A friendship had begun.
On the bus, they sat together, picking up where they left off during school.
“I saw your parents moving in down the street last week, but I never saw you,” Leonard remarked.
“That’s because I always had a box in my hands, which covered my face. I didn’t see you on the school bus this morning,” Kevin said.
“That’s because I ride with my mother to work every day. Well, her work—my school, you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you have her for any of your classes?”
“No, thank God. That would be unbearable.”
Kevin agreed.
Leonard added, “It wouldn’t be a bad thing, to be a student in one of my mother’s classes, but it would give other kids the opportunity to pick on me. I would definitely be called the teacher’s pet.”
Again, Kevin agreed.
“Do you like to fish?” Leonard asked.
Music to Kevin’s ears. “I love to fish! I fish a lot with my grandfather and father. We used to have a small boat, but Dad sold it years ago, so now the only fishing I do is when I get to go with some friends of mine. Unfortunately those friends are now in Houston and I’m here. Why do you ask?”
“Because your house backs up to a creek, no farther away than the length of your driveway. I figured you knew that already.”
“No, I had no idea. I spent all weekend unloading boxes inside the house. I haven’t gotten outside to look around yet. Besides that, Dad told me the property behind our house belonged to someone else and I needed permission to go on it.”
“I’ve been back there a few times, and I have seen a man riding a horse. I think he’s the rancher that owns the property. He’s seen me fishing in the creek, but never said anything. He rode by once and kind of waved at me, so I think it’s okay. I mean, he didn’t run me off or anything like that.”
Kevin’s eyes grew wide with excitement as he listened to Leonard tell him about his fishing trips on the weekends. More and more, he was feeling good about the move and less anxious about fitting in.
Now all he could think about was fishing. The bus ride home was agonizingly long. There was a paradise just outside his bedroom window, and now that he knew about it, he could hardly wait to explore.
He said goodbye to his new friend and hopped off the bus, feeling much better about life in general. They would meet up again in a few minutes. Leonard lived just down the road, six houses away. Of course, six houses away was still a good bit of distance, since each lot was several acres wide. That was another big difference between the country and living closer to the city. Kevin’s old house was a small lot, a bitty patch of grass in the front yard, which met up to a sidewalk and a paved road. There were certainly no horses or livestock around. A push mower and ten minutes of muscle was all that was required in order to manicure the yards, front and back. The homes were so close together, a car couldn’t fit between them.
When Kevin heard Leonard’s knock at the front door, he raced to answer it. He ushered Leonard through the house to the back porch, and then they headed to the barbed wire fence which separated them from paradise. Not a single thread of their tattered jean cutoffs or T-shirts got caught on the sharp prongs as they slipped through. On the other side of the fence, they stopped for a moment and stared at every boy’s dream: hundreds of acres of trees, an enormous stretch of woodlands split down the middle by a shallow creek with steep banks.
They did not bring their fishing poles on their first adventure together, but they did bring their imagination and energy. They ran through the woods down as many trails as possible, touching every leaf along its edges. They stopped at the beginning of one of the clearings and climbed an enormous live oak. As they stood on the arms of its massive branches, high in the canopy, they saw before them small ponds dotting the fertile green pastures. They speculated on how many fish and what kind and how big they were, vowing to catch them all. As far as the eye could see in every direction there was only nature, green trees and bushes, carpets of grasses, and flowers of all colors. They inhaled the air, fragrant and clean, relishing every inch of it. They scanned the horizon, planning future days in the sunshine.
Once again, they felt in control of their destinies now that they had each other and this, this beautiful land to explore together.
Finally, Leonard and Kevin headed home, knowing their parents would be home soon and there were chores to do before dinner. They passed back through the barbed wire fence reluctantly, for they didn’t want to leave, but filled with hope for the future.