Brigit's Flame February 2011 First entry: Loathing
"Pow! Bam! Right in the nose..."
Devin Grey lay on his back, his left arm across his eyes more to hide his tears of shame and defeat than any other reason. He could still hear Biff and the other children laughing some way off. Biff's voice rose above the others as he regaled them with a blow-by-blow account of the fight.
As he lay there, his sobs subsiding, Devin felt rather than heard someone approach. He drew his elbow down far enough to see a tall boy walk up quietly and stand near him. The boy's head blocked out the sun giving him a strange halo effect.
"Are you hurt?" The boy had only glanced at Devin and was now apparently speaking to the clouds.
"Only my nose," said Devin trying to decide what this boy wanted, although from Devin's perspective he seemed more like a man.
"I saw what happened," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Everyone sees Biff beat me up," then after a pause, "Why didn't you help?"
The tall boy glanced down at him again. "Help. Help you or Trent?"
"Help me, and who's Trent?"
"The boy you call 'Biff', his real name is Trent and I did not help you because the contest was fair."
"Fair? How is an eighth-grader beating up a fourth-grader fair?"
"It was one on one. None of Trent's followers were involved except in goading him on, but from what I've seen, Trent needs no goading," and then, "Can you stand?" He made no offer to help.
"Yes," Devin replied getting up slowly.
They looked at each other briefly, the little sandy-haired boy, dirty from his mid-day fight and the tall, dark-haired boy, sporting a long black ponytail, his skin already a moderate tan even though it was still mid-spring. His black leather jacket and dark jeans made him look even more impressive in Devin's eyes.
"Your nose is bloody, but not broken, though you may wish to have the school nurse look at it just to be sure."
"No thanks. Then I'll have to explain how 'Trent' over there beat me up again," Devin looked away feeling the prick of tears starting again.
"Do you hate him?" The tall boy looked off toward the group of early teenagers where Trent was re-enacting Devin's fall for the fifth time.
"No, I don't hate him, I LOATHE him!" he spat.
"You waste a great deal of energy by doing so."
"What?"
"What comes of your loathing?" The boy looked intently at Devin now, his gaze keen and piercing, his dark eyes reflecting Devin's own slightly frightened and bloody face.
"What do you mean?"
"What does it produce? Does it make you stronger or him weaker? Does it cause him to run away or to miss your face with his punches?" The boy's gaze held Devin's eyes and Devin saw scars on this boy's face, and something else....
"So what should I do, go up and give him a hug?" the threatening tears welled over in his added frustration.
A smile flickered on the older boy's face and he withdrew his gaze. "No, probably not, though it would certainly confuse him for a moment."
Devin dropped his eyes and wiped his cheeks.
"It is a waste of your time and energy to even think about him," the older boy went back to looking at the clouds.
"So what should I do?" Devin repeated the question.
"Choose, as I did when I was your age. You are at a cross-roads, young Devin Grey, but you must choose swiftly. You must either become the rabbit or the bear."
"The what or the what?" Devin was beginning to wonder if this boy was 'all-there' as his father would say.
"The rabbit is the easier path. You are already on it. You can run away, but as the rabbit you must become more aware of your surroundings, you must learn to run swiftly, learn to throw your opponent off his course by changing directions suddenly. It is a worthy and effective path, but it will haunt you throughout the rest of your life if you follow it."
"And the other choice?" Devin was starting to understand.
"The bear. If you choose the path of the bear, you must learn to stay your ground, learn to fight and fight so well that you overwhelm your opponent. Your reputation will be such that almost no one will wish to compete with you. You must become heavy-handed, devastating, strong of mind and purpose. It is, by far, the more difficult path."
"So how do I choose?"
"The 'how' is up to you. I have given you enough to think on and decide, but I warn you, your loathing has no place on either path. Hatred and fear will damage only you in the long-run."
"And what should I do, once I've decided?"
"When you are ready, find me. I am here, but only for the summer." The boy turned and started to stalk away.
"How will I find you?" Devin called after him.
The elder boy paused and glanced sideways so that Devin was, at best, in his peripheral vision. My name is Tony BlackHawk. I live on the hill on the east side of town. You will find me there." And with that, he strode away.
Devin Grey lay on his back, his left arm across his eyes more to hide his tears of shame and defeat than any other reason. He could still hear Biff and the other children laughing some way off. Biff's voice rose above the others as he regaled them with a blow-by-blow account of the fight.
As he lay there, his sobs subsiding, Devin felt rather than heard someone approach. He drew his elbow down far enough to see a tall boy walk up quietly and stand near him. The boy's head blocked out the sun giving him a strange halo effect.
"Are you hurt?" The boy had only glanced at Devin and was now apparently speaking to the clouds.
"Only my nose," said Devin trying to decide what this boy wanted, although from Devin's perspective he seemed more like a man.
"I saw what happened," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, I'm sure. Everyone sees Biff beat me up," then after a pause, "Why didn't you help?"
The tall boy glanced down at him again. "Help. Help you or Trent?"
"Help me, and who's Trent?"
"The boy you call 'Biff', his real name is Trent and I did not help you because the contest was fair."
"Fair? How is an eighth-grader beating up a fourth-grader fair?"
"It was one on one. None of Trent's followers were involved except in goading him on, but from what I've seen, Trent needs no goading," and then, "Can you stand?" He made no offer to help.
"Yes," Devin replied getting up slowly.
They looked at each other briefly, the little sandy-haired boy, dirty from his mid-day fight and the tall, dark-haired boy, sporting a long black ponytail, his skin already a moderate tan even though it was still mid-spring. His black leather jacket and dark jeans made him look even more impressive in Devin's eyes.
"Your nose is bloody, but not broken, though you may wish to have the school nurse look at it just to be sure."
"No thanks. Then I'll have to explain how 'Trent' over there beat me up again," Devin looked away feeling the prick of tears starting again.
"Do you hate him?" The tall boy looked off toward the group of early teenagers where Trent was re-enacting Devin's fall for the fifth time.
"No, I don't hate him, I LOATHE him!" he spat.
"You waste a great deal of energy by doing so."
"What?"
"What comes of your loathing?" The boy looked intently at Devin now, his gaze keen and piercing, his dark eyes reflecting Devin's own slightly frightened and bloody face.
"What do you mean?"
"What does it produce? Does it make you stronger or him weaker? Does it cause him to run away or to miss your face with his punches?" The boy's gaze held Devin's eyes and Devin saw scars on this boy's face, and something else....
"So what should I do, go up and give him a hug?" the threatening tears welled over in his added frustration.
A smile flickered on the older boy's face and he withdrew his gaze. "No, probably not, though it would certainly confuse him for a moment."
Devin dropped his eyes and wiped his cheeks.
"It is a waste of your time and energy to even think about him," the older boy went back to looking at the clouds.
"So what should I do?" Devin repeated the question.
"Choose, as I did when I was your age. You are at a cross-roads, young Devin Grey, but you must choose swiftly. You must either become the rabbit or the bear."
"The what or the what?" Devin was beginning to wonder if this boy was 'all-there' as his father would say.
"The rabbit is the easier path. You are already on it. You can run away, but as the rabbit you must become more aware of your surroundings, you must learn to run swiftly, learn to throw your opponent off his course by changing directions suddenly. It is a worthy and effective path, but it will haunt you throughout the rest of your life if you follow it."
"And the other choice?" Devin was starting to understand.
"The bear. If you choose the path of the bear, you must learn to stay your ground, learn to fight and fight so well that you overwhelm your opponent. Your reputation will be such that almost no one will wish to compete with you. You must become heavy-handed, devastating, strong of mind and purpose. It is, by far, the more difficult path."
"So how do I choose?"
"The 'how' is up to you. I have given you enough to think on and decide, but I warn you, your loathing has no place on either path. Hatred and fear will damage only you in the long-run."
"And what should I do, once I've decided?"
"When you are ready, find me. I am here, but only for the summer." The boy turned and started to stalk away.
"How will I find you?" Devin called after him.
The elder boy paused and glanced sideways so that Devin was, at best, in his peripheral vision. My name is Tony BlackHawk. I live on the hill on the east side of town. You will find me there." And with that, he strode away.