My hands were sweating, my stomach turning. I had an idea from watching all of those Kung Fu movies Dad and I watched on the weekends. The time is now or never!!
I swing and hit him in the left eye. He rushes me. We go full-on WWF, which is to say we begin wrestling on the ground. We break apart and get up and resume part boxing and part Kung Fu-ing. I am bobbing and weaving. The only sound is that of my hardened knuckles crashing violently against his face. I swing over and over and over again. SWING! SWING! SWING! I can’t lose. No way can I allow another slap. The wind of a forceful punch swiftly glides across my face. Whew! He missed with a big time haymaker of a punch! Fatigue begins to show on my unworthy opponent’s face as his big attempt at the haymaker is reflected in his eyes.
That was close! I think to myself how freaking lucky I am to have survived with my reputation intact. I am so lucky the teacher broke the fight up as fast as he did. Sahuayo, a hole in the left knee of his pants reveals a scraped knee from our rolling around like two pole cats fighting over catnip. Blood is dripping from his nose. His right eye is starting to swell up and turn red. I can hardly believe it. I had WON the real fight. Not the living room couch play fight with my older cousins, but the real, honest by God, playground fight. My heart is racing. I am feeling the rush of adrenaline flooding all throughout my body. Part shaking with fear and part wanting to jump up and down and yell at the top of my lungs in victory!
I can barely feel my feet touching the ground as Mr. Martinez ‘escorted’ us to the principal’s office. He might have had hold of the scruff of my neck but I wasn’t feeling it. I was still ‘floating like a butterfly’ (I had already ‘stung like a bee’). I look at the silent faces of friends and classmates – I pretend they are all in awe of my victory and that is making me walk tall down the ‘walk of shame’ to the Principal’s Office.
My sense of excitement from the victory was abruptly ended when mom arrived. I had seen that face too many times before. She even smirked at me on the way in. Crap! As I sat outside the office a thousand thoughts are spinning through my mind, wondering what they were saying to each other. Yeah, I was worried, but inside nobody could take away the smile I felt. I felt strong. I felt the rush of courage flowing through my veins. There is the sense of accomplishment. I had not only won my first fight, but had beat the school bully.
Then reality started to settle over me like a Cachetada guajolotera. Mom never speaks a word on the walk down the hallway and out to the parking lot. Dad is waiting in the car. Every possible nightmare is racing through my mind. As I watch the classroom doors worse thoughts came true. Dad was waiting for me in the parking lot.
My mom said, “It has only been six months in this country and you keep behaving like a Ranchero on the farm.” The only thing I could think of was my dad’s coin belt.
I couldn’t forget about it since I broke the front window of the house with a rock because my sister wanted to get in and the door was locked. We would knock but since Dad already told us not to be coming in and out so often because we had visitors – uncle Manuel was over with his family – I had to step up and open the door anyway anyhow. But Dad didn’t appreciate my courage to save my little sister from the darkness. He whup me in front of our visitors for breaking the window.
As I saw the parking lot, Dad had the same look on his face as when I broke the front window of our house with a rock.
My dad immediately said, “What happened. Tell me the truth?”
I said, “Sahuayo started it, and I defended myself, (with a quiet innocent voice.) He wanted to hit me then…”
Dad interrupted. He looked in my eyes and asked, “Did you win the fight?”
I said, “I made him bleed.” His face relaxed, and he made an attempt to smile. Then he did something that he had never done before. He tapped me on the shoulder. It felt like when a knight gets his first sword of honor. Literally!
Mom screamed, “Aren’t you going to ground him?”
Dad yelled, “Shut up woman. He said he defended himself.”
I was shocked my dad actually defended me in front of my mother. In that moment, something lit up inside of me, that made me feel loved and I knew I had made my father proud for the first time. On the way home something was very wrong, I was actually in need to smile, and I wanted to cover my face, smile and scream, “I beat you mother fuc….rrr,”and then have some ice cream. But it was not proper. I knew better. Back in the farm grandma would always use to say in the good and bad moments, ”Composure is elegance my boy.”
We stop at taco bell and bought two combos of tacos and tostadas, and soft tacos. When we arrived home, my sister’s eyes where wide open, she knew that look in mom’s face. She gazed at me, and looked down. We ate fast. She wanted to know everything about it. She was my only real friend since I came from Mexico. I headed to my room after lunch. Assoon I closed the door I smiled and started to shadow boxing.
She opened the door and said, “Tell me what happened! Everybody was talking about you…”
“I couldn’t take it anymore, he pushed me and then…”
Door opened. “Moni what are you doing here? He’s grounded. Come and help me with the dishes and you, go to sleep early. You’re going to work tomorrow. You are grounded.”
It was 4:00am when my dad opened the door and said, “Get ready and don’t forget your hat, and go and warm up the truck.” My mom was fixing us lunch before we left.
She said, “Mijo I made your favorite burritos de chorizo con huevo (egg and chorizo burritos) and be careful with the ladder, I love you” and she made the signal of the cross in my forehead.
Picking cherries wasn’t that bad. I like to be in the fields, better than being laughed at all day at recess or getting slappedin the head by Sahuayo. I was starting to woolgather when my dad woke me up from my senses.
“Mijo bring another box, and carry my ladder to the next tree.”
“Watch this,” he said while he emptied his cherry bucket.
“Your dad has been the best cherry picker in this town and in Oregon. “Yo soy Chingon…” (meaning I’m a bad ass). If you don’t like school, this is what you have coming…”
After work dad turned his bucket upside down and sat on it, he said, “Mijo bring me a beer from the ice chest that’s on the truck.”
When I came back, Dad said, “I see you’re working hard. Take a sip of my beer.”
My eyes, wide open like a deer facing head lights, I drank. It was nasty I almost spit it out, and he laughed.
“Go and count the boxes” said dad.
An hour later dad gave me the keys of the truck.
He said, “Bring the truck to this side of the field and remember how I told you to take the motor break off.”
Dad said, “You’re driving home today.”
My two weeks of suspension were great. I kept working with my dad in the fields, and he taught me how to drive. I did not ever want to go back to school.
But the day came, I had to go back to school that morning. I got on the bus, and it was silent. Everybody stared at me. I sat in my usual spot right behind the fire door. I understood that they now feared me, an internal smile went on inside of me, and I was being respected like my father. We got off, and I had friends. They all wanted to talk to me. At recess, I received a small letter. It had glitter, and the smell seemed like strawberry. It read, To: Javi. My face flushed. My heart started to race. I wanted to open it right way, but I put it in my pocket and waited. It seemed like the longest recess. As soon as I sat in my chair, I couldn’t help it. I opened the letter and it said, “Would you like to sit with us on the bus on the way home?” A heart and two glitter kisses inside. I am telling you I was in a different world now, and my answer was simply YES. That same day, I entered the cafeteria with my head held high and with a pumped chest and arms wide open.
I transformed, and I had a mean look in my face, and my personality was different. I felt confident, determined, powerful, and handsome, loved, and for the first time cool. It was different than walking with my head down looking at the ground. The bus ride to my house was usually the worst part, but this day was different. Nobody was throwing paper or slapping me in the head. That day I had a spot at the very back of the bus where the cool kids sat. Clara and Maria where giggling singling me out with their finger. I was a man ready to get my first kiss.
After that day I wanted to go to school and I did not want to go back to Mexico any more, I wanted new clothes and a new backpack. I was ready to fight who ever wanted to take this newfound fame from me.
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