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Topic: Bullies (08/09/04)
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TITLE: THE SHINER By Sylvia Spielman 08/10/04 |
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“Sylvia, what’s wrong?” My sister followed down the hall.
I grabbed a towel. “Nothing! Go away!!” I screamed.
My oldest sister was almost eighteen and had the responsibility of watching out for me after school. She had doted over me as a baby, but by the time I was seven she had lost interest. She heeded my demand and went back to her boyfriend who was staring at the television.
I hated everything that day. I hated my dress, my hair, my teacher . . . most of all I hated being fat. There was always somebody at school to tell me I was fat. I put on the mask and laughed at their jokes, but my heart was broken.
When I came out of the bathroom my other sister was lying across her bed.
“What’s going on, Little Bit?” she asked without lifting her eyes from her book. She patted her foot to the music on the radio. I hated that nickname – it reminded me I was anything but small. I ignored her and kept on walking.
When I reached my bedroom the sound from my sister’s radio clashed with the noise blaring from the television. I heard my oldest sister’s stupid giggle – the one she used when her boyfriend was around. I slammed the door and fell across the bed.
I wondered what adventure my sister, Sara, was pursuing. She was four years older and we had shared a room for as long as I could remember. She wasn’t afraid of anything and could hit a ball better than any boy. Every afternoon she roamed the woods with Deb, a full-blooded greyhound Sara had rescued from “sure death” if Daddy didn’t let her live with us. Standing just over four feet, Sara was the closest thing I had to a hero. Nobody messed with me when my twelve-year-old sister was around.
I poured a glass of milk and went out the back door. Sitting on the steps I heard Deb barking. It was coming from the direction of the lake. Standing in the driveway I could see Sara coming up the road.
“Come on, Girl, let’s get home,” Sara said as she took off running as hard as she could go. Deb increased her speed just a little and left Sara like she was standing still.
“Hey, Brat, whatchya’ doing?”
“Nothing.” It never bothered me when Sara called me Brat – she didn’t mean anything.
“Me and Deb went down to see the gators. Guess it was too hot, they were out swimming in the middle of the lake. Hey . . . look at me . . . have you been crying?”
We sat down on the back step and Sara threw her arm around my shoulder.
“Come on, Brat, tell me what happened.”
“When Kevin kicked the ball under the house, he said they could use me for a kick ball cause I was round enough to roll,”
“Why that stupid . . . . “ Sara was on her feet. “Come on,” she said.
Without saying another word, Sara was down the street with Deb close on her heels. I could barely keep up. As we walked up in Kevin’s yard, the boys jumped out of the tree one by one.
“What do you want?” snarled Kevin.
Without missing a step Sara was in Kevin’s face. “What’d you say about my sister?” She didn’t wait. As far as she was concerned, I never told a lie so she didn’t have to hear his answer. Before I could stop breathing heavy, Kevin was flat on his back, the beginning of a shiner already glistening on his cheek. The other boys stood there. They had all fallen victim to my sister’s right hook and knew not to jump in – it was better to let Kevin take it and get it over with.
This was a scenario repeated many times in my childhood. Sara was my best friend and came to my rescue time and time again. Even though she held certain rights to pick on me . . . no one else had that privilege.
I think that’s how Jesus fights for us sometimes. No questions asked and “BAM,” Satan has a shiner, because “no weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper: and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord.” Isaiah 54:17.