Every friend I have known says the same things about me. “I’ve never heard him raise his voice, ever.” All the way up into high school any kid who wanted to pick a fight found me. I came home with black eyes, a broken nose, chipped teeth and bruises all over. As a freshman I got whipped by a senior for being in his way and I peed blood for three weeks. I just didn’t want to fight.

After the senior kicked my ass my dad didn’t let me go to school for three weeks and instead I worked in the fields him.  Dad told my mom to tell the school I was off to my uncle’s farm to help out while my uncle recovered from an operation. My dad spent the three weeks teaching me to fight out on the fields.

Not karate, judo or any of that fancy stuff where you get a black belt. He taught me one thing. End the fight. The motto was that any fight that lasted half a minute was a dance.

He convinced me that there were only two reasons to fight: To protect someone who couldn’t protect themselves and to protect yourself. He said every day, “Never start a fight and end every fight.”

I was convinced that they would know about any fight I was in and if I broke the rules they would come and deal with me. I was more afraid of them than I was of God.

When the three weeks were up I went back. Over dinner Dad asked me about what I had learned. I told him the rules and that I was no longer afraid.

At school a few people asked me about working on my uncle’s farm. I told them I was glad to be back at school.

That first Friday night back Dad lent me the truck so that I and my cousin Teresa and I could go to the football game and dance at school. We lost the game by ten points. Teresa sat with her friends and we agreed to meet at the truck at eleven o’clock. I danced a few dances and mostly hung out with four of my friends. I looked for her every few dances, doing like my aunt told me to, “Watch after your cousin.”

After I danced the last dance with Cheryl I needed to pee before driving home, so I went into the boys’ bathroom. Three Mexican Cholos (Gangsters) came in after I was already in. They began talking trash to me and baiting me. Martin blocked my way to the door and when I moved to go around him he asked, “What’s your hurry? Afraid someone might be talking to your ugly cousin?”

I realized that the fourth of their unit, Frank, wasn’t with them. They were sent to delay me while Frank played with my cousin.

“Guys, my aunt gave me the job of looking out for her. I have to go! Now, let me pass.”

Martin pushed me. “You can go when I say you can go.”

“If something happens to Teresa...”

“What are you gonna do? Get your ass kicked?” Henry asked as he pushed me.

“I don’t want to fight you.” I said.

“Tough! Cause the only way you’re getting out of here in through us.” Martin said, smiling.

“I’m not allowed to fight...”

Martin threw a punch and it hit me in the neck. I saw it coming and moved back a few inches, taking all the power out of the punch. My left foot swept out and lifted Martin’s leg, dumping him on his back. He also landed on the back of his head. Henry swung at me and I hit his nose with my open hand. It opened like a faucet and blood poured down his face and shirt. The third of the trio grabbed my shirt and ripped it as he tried to knee me.

I spun away from his grasp, leaving him a handful of shirt. I braced my left foot on the ground and put my right foot on his knee. One hard push and he screamed and went down. I looked and saw that the threat to me was over.

I ran out the side door and to the parking lot.  Frank had Teresa pinned against our truck. He had a crowd of ten or twelve onlookers watching him toy with her. She was holding the front of her dress. It was ripped and Frank was asking her to give him another look.

When I was about four feet from him I asked, “Teresa, who ripped your dress?”

He spun around and faced me. His eyes flared and he said, “How’d you get loose, Dude?”

“Teresa, did Frank tear your dress?”

“Yes.” Her voice was scared and she was crying.

“Frank, you owe her an apology and the money for a new dress.”

“Tough Shit! I just bought these new boots and I don’t have money to by any bitch a dress!”

I remembered the rules. Protect those who can’t protect themselves and protect myself. I didn’t need it. Teresa did.

“Get in the truck Teresa!”

“Oh no. I’m not done with her.”

“Yes, you are.” I didn’t know it but the crowd was now fifty people, behind me. Teresa opened the door to the truck and Frank spun around and grabbed her, pulling her away from the truck and in the process he further tore her dress. The toe of my boot between his legs lifted him completely off the ground and he screamed. He released her and tried to turn to fight me. My hands grabbed his head and slammed it into my knee. I heard bones break. I saw blood spurt. I dropped him on the ground.

I looked up and the Principal was standing there. “He attacked my Cousin. No one attacks a girl.” I bent to Frank and pulled off his new boots. “Frank, you can have the boots back when you pay for her dress.” I tossed them in the back of the truck.

I got in the truck and drove home. When I got there a police car was already there. The police officer was sitting in our kitchen having coffee with Mom and Dad. He took one look at Teresa’s dress and started writing his report. Dad asked what would happen next. He guessed that when the families cooled off they would decide not to pursue any charges. After all, I had whipped four gangsters asses.

My Aunt took Teresa to her home and found a few bruises and a couple scratches on her. That night I went to go see Teresa to apologize and I asked her for her dress and she gave it to me.

The next day I worked all day around our farm. If our phone rang, I didn’t know about it. On Sunday morning Dad asked if I wanted to go to church. All four boys I beat up went to the church and so did their parents. I got dressed up and put the torn dress in a bag. Dad watched and didn’t say anything. When we went to the truck I pulled the boots out of the truck bed and threw them in with the rest.

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Dad said.

We walked in a few minutes late and took our seats. The priest shot us a look and when it was time for the sermon he scolded me endlessly. His name was Padre Barajas and his words made it clear that someone in our church started a fight at school and he should be punished.

I sat quietly and looked at him as he continued. Finally, after everyone was clear that I was the devil and would roast in hell I stood up. I picked up the bag and went to the front of the alter. I looked at the priest and said, “Can I ask you a question, padre?”

He nodded. “If you were at a function with the nuns and when you came outside someone was standing with them and had torn their dresses... like this.” I pulled the dress out and showed how it was torn. “And they told you who tore it, and he tore at them again in front of you, would you allow him to strip them of her clothes and their dignity?”

Not a sound was made. “I didn’t think so. Three of Frank’s buddies tried to keep me in the boy’s bathroom so Frank could play with my cousin. I could not allow that. It is my job to protect my family and any other person who cannot protect themselves. I didn’t kill anyone. I want it known. I am just me, nobody, unless someone threatens my family or someone smaller than them. I notice Frank isn’t in church today. He has no reason to be mad at me. He did this to himself. I have a pair of his boots and he can have them back when he pays for this dress.”

I carried the dress in my hand as I walked out of the church. My Dad, Mom and my siblings followed me. When we got to the truck Frank’s Dad met us.

“My son told me a different story.”

“Ask Teresa what happened, she is right over there. Ask her to show you the scratches on her chest from Frank’s fingernails.”

“Throw the boots away. I’ll pay for the dress.” He pulled out his wallet.

“That’s not gonna do it. You didn’t do it. You didn’t rip her dress and bare her breast for anyone to see. Frank did that. He needs to pay. He’s sitting home putting a story together where I’m the bad guy. He was just being friendly and I went crazy. You bought that story. I don’t. He owes her a public apology and the money for a new dress. His money!”

Frank’s Dad looked upset with tears in his eyes. He looked at his wife and said, “We need to go home.” He turned back to me and said, “He’ll give her the apology and the money at school.”

“Thank you. While you’re at it, could you let the priest know that I don’t appreciate being convicted by him without even a trial?” We got in the truck and left.

That night we invited Teresa and my aunt to dinner and Mom and her made a great dinner and Teresa spent hours in my sister’s room crying. At eight o’clock a car parked between the barn and our back door and the priest got out. I watched them walk to our back door from my bedroom window.

When I got to the living room everyone was standing. .  The priest didn’t say anything when we entered the room. So, I did.

“Welcome to our home Padre Barajas. Why are you here?”

“I’m here to apologize.”

“Save it. By my watch you spent twenty-six minutes of church today condemning me. You were judge and jury and you were wrong! You slandered my cousin, my family and me. Now, hours later you drive out here in the dark to apologize. I won’t accept it. Let me know when you’re spending twenty-six minutes of sermon apologizing. I’ll be there. If that sounds rude, then please know I do not intend to be rude. I do intend to stand up for what’s right and if Jesus was standing right here with us I have no doubt he would agree with me.”

“Hijo, padre Barajas just got a huge lesson from a fifteen year old.”

Mom asked, “I wonder what school will be like on Monday.”

“So do I.” I said.

Dad lent us the truck on Monday. I parked in the student parking lot and on the way to class I noticed that people were looking at me. In first period I noticed that Martin wasn’t in his seat. No one said anything.

Frank wasn’t in third period Algebra II. The teacher asked if anyone knew where Frank was. Alice said, “He’s in the hospital with a broken leg.” The teacher didn’t ask any more questions.

By fifth period I knew it wasn’t likely anyone was going to talk to me. I figured I was in for a tough day.

At the end of school I met Teresa at the school bus. She said, “People I don’t even know talked to me today.” A minute later she said, “They wanted to know about you.”

“What?”

“The questions girls ask when they’re interested in a guy.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No. And, they insist.”

“I know. I had the same thing happen to me today.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“Spare me. That’s not what I want it to be, cute!”

“Are we going to the football game and dance this Friday?”

“You want to?”

“There are fifty girls who want to dance with you. Personally, I’m afraid no boy will come near me, ever again.”

“Whatever! But we should go. Otherwise it may look like we have something to be ashamed of.”

“I need a new dress.”

“Let’s talk to my aunt and mom to make you one.”

When we walked into the dance after the game (we won by fourteen) the room got quiet. Teresa started to move toward her friends when I saw Frank on crutches, headed our way. I stopped her. We watched him come closer and closer. The cast went from high on his thigh to his ankle.

“Teresa, I came here to apologize to you. I could make excuses but I won’t. I did what I did because you wouldn’t pay any attention to me. That makes me an ass. I withdrew a hundred and fifty dollars from my savings and I want to give it to you for the dress. If it was more, tell me and I’ll get the rest.”

“That’s enough.” Teresa said. She took the money and gave it to me.

Frank looked at me and said, “I deserved the ass kicking you gave me. I’ll be reminded every day of the rest of my life. I’m sorry I disrespected you and your family. I hope someday you can forgive me. Both of you.”

I noticed he was starting to shake. He wasn’t stable on the crutches. I stepped to him and put my arm around him. I said, “This man needs a chair. Get him a chair.”

As soon as he was sitting in a chair I pushed it to the side of the dance floor and sat next to him. The music started and I looked at Frank. “How soon will the cast come off?”

“Six more weeks.”

“How will you get to school?”

“Don’t know. Dad drove me here tonight and he’ll be back pretty soon to take me home.”

“I’ll take you. Let me call your Dad.”

“Why?”

Frank did go away to college. He studied business and came went back to our town to run the hardware store. He asked me to stand up for him at his wedding but I was out fighting for uncle Sam and I couldn’t do it but he was marrying Teresa.

I wondered what to give him for a wedding gift. I gave them some stuff for their home, but I wanted to give him a personal gift. I talked to Teresa and she agreed. I gave him the dress he tore up that night I kicked his ass.

The End