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1950. I was 5 years old, in the first grade, standing on the playground one recess at Cogswell Elementary when a strange kid came up to me and asked if I knew Ed Kelly. I did not, so he left, after informing me that Ed was coming to our school. Emmett Kelley I had heard of, but not Ed.
Some days later, again standing on the playground, this time after school whilst waiting for my bus to arrive, another bus came which had already picked up a few kids from another school. Another strange kid said to me “See that kid in the back window?” I looked and I saw. “Well, that’s Ed Kelly - he’s coming to this school.” I was not particularly impressed, though I was beginning to wonder how one of us 5 year olds could become so famous in our young lives that kids at other schools would be aware of our arrivals and departures in advance. Who IS this guy? I put the entire episode out of my mind.
Days or weeks later - once again on the Playground of Prescient Happenings, somebody grabbed my arm, spun me around and punched me in the stomach. Here was I, face to face with Himself; Ed Kelly! I hardly felt the punch. Whatever he was famous for, beating up on 5 year olds was not the forté. My dad had been a Golden Gloves boxer in his wasted youth and would bounce me off the walls from time to time with a few jabs and “apricots”, I knew right away I much preffered sparring for Mr. Kelly than the old man. Ed wound up and let me have another. His entourage, which included the other two strangers, now all too familiar, were egging him on to do “more” so I decided to try crying, which worked a quick miracle as soon as I made The Face. This ended recess and they all left so I quit the act and returned to class, ever watchful for gangs of mini thugs.
I honestly don’t remember ever seeing Kelly at that school again, but I kept an eye out for him. I hadn’t known such apprehension since the previous year when Janice Venture beat the snot out of me about 300 times in Kindergarten. I grew Eyes-In-The-Back-Of-My-Head, like mom, but it was 1 room - it was hard to hide and she was a big, healthy one. I complained bitterly to mom, but she thought it was “Cute” - it’s hard to call the law out on bullies when they’re enjoying the show, ask Rodney King. Anyway I never forgot the Kelly episode and at some point I know I vowed to kill him if I ever got the chance. Kelly The Five Year Old Hit Man was called away soon after - transferred - apparently there were other campuses requiring his particular brand of equalization.
______________________________________________________________ Years pass ______________________________________________________________
There was a one week summer camp in the local mountains that was done through the schools, for kids at least in the 3rd grade on up through 8th. It cost $10 to send a kid and my family never had that kind of money, not in 1953, so I didn’t get to go, though everybody else in the whole damn universe went and claimed to have had a great time, girls separately from the boys, of course. Well, I didn’t care to go anyway. The bastards! We did manage to scrape up the 10 in ‘56 and we all had a family vacation from each other but for the following year I bowed out - the 7th and 8th graders went at the same time and I knew we’d be slaves to the big kids so I waited and saved my Al Hamilton for 1958. When I stepped off the bus at Camp Mountain View who should I see, to my surprise, but my long lost arch enemy Ed Kelly. He didn’t have long to live, now.
The old out house had been replaced with a large bathroom, complete with showers and a chemical toilet, into which we were admonished not to ever put any paper, though the counselors neglected to inform any of us where we WERE supposed to put it. We all ignored them anyway, of course, and stopped up the works immediately. Camp was always crowded with us little vandals and under my watchful eye Ed Kelly seemed to be leading a happy and charmed existence, if not a long one. Until -- until the very last day of camp as we were washing up and the bugle sounded for dinner; “Beanie beanie beanie...” and everybody ran for a place at the groaning board and I was the last kid out -- I thought. No, by golly, there was another lagger bringing up the rear, and it was going to be his last walk. I picked up an enormous jagged boulder and climbed up a small incline to wait and pounce, staving in his hated skull, tossing his lifeless carcass down the hill for the buzzards and coyotes to dispose of and the bus would just have to be one kid shy on the way home tomorrow. Too bad, so sad. Yeah...them paybacks, huh.
My pulse was pounding out of control as Mr. Edward Kelly walked his Last Mile when a strange thing happened just as Ed drew abreast of me on my high perch. He always wore a tanker jacket, no matter how hot, and he had both hands in the pockets when he stopped, saw me, and asked “Hey - what are we supposed to do with THIS?”, and withdrew two big handfuls of USED TOILET PAPER! A whole weeks’ worth of brown streaked butt wipes. Two damn pockets full, my God! I made a snap decision; I would do him the ultimate damage = I would let him live. Knowing this Ultra Nerd, this wannabe thug who couldn’t hit, would have a lifetime of full pockets and questions of what to do about them, and I put down my weapon of mass destruction and called home the troops. I didn’t tell him, either, what he could do with his disgusting paperwork.
Now, another 25 years went by, and I went to my 20 year High School Reunion. In all this time I don’t believe I ever saw the guy again, but he winds up sitting at my table! Maybe he graduated with us, or maybe he married a gal who did, but there he was, wearing a jacket WITH TWO BIG POCKETS!! In case the hotel restroom was disfunctioning, Ed was prepared. And I wasn’t done with him yet, either, the gods must have really hated Ed Kelly to put him at my table that night - I know I did a mean thing, but it was destiny, out of my control. There, in front of people I had grown up with and gone to school with from Kindergarten all through High School, I told The Story. When I got to the part about his pockets full of S___ paper his wife looked at him and said “I believe it.” I fell out of my chair. Life was good that night. I shouldn’t have done it and sometimes I feel a little remorseful and think now I’d never act like that again, after all, it was only a weak tap in the tummy, kid stuff, 30 years before. The poor nerd.
Yeah, I would.
In a heartbeat! Ha ha!
I don’t know where Ed is these days, probably on a rooftop or a small wooded incline with a deer rifle waiting for me to stroll by, with his big old pockets full of uh, ... well, maybe bullets. Or something.
Posts: 1859 | From: / | Registered: Nov 1998
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My first day of 7th grade (this is when Junior high was 7th-9th grade) we had an assembly in the gym. I got there early, sat by myself on some bleachers where there was nobody sitting the whole section was empty. Well, here comes 9th Grader bad ass Steve and two of his cronies. He walks up to me and says,"that's my seat!" I looked at him and thought, "OK, he must sit here all the time" and so I moved a couple of bleachers down. Of course, here comes Steve with, "that's my seat!" He kept on while his buddies laughed. I just finally got up and moved to the other side of the gym away from this jerk. I was this scrawny kid, couldn't fight my way out of a wet paper bag. Well, Steve went off to high school the following year so I didn't see him 'til my sophomore year and he was a senior. Only difference was, I grew. Little Steve stayed the same size and he remembered me. I approached him and he says, "hey, bro, howz it going?". I pushed him and told him, "move me from my seat now!" He said, "hey bro, we were just kids!" I pushed him one more time and he just wimpered away and never even looked at me again. I have never been one to fight, push, etc. but I just had to get those two years of frustration off my chest and pushed into his scrawny little chest. Ahh, sweet revenge!!!
-------------------- John Cordova Gitano Design Studio Albuquerque, NM Posts: 268 | From: Albuquerque, New Mexico, USA | Registered: Nov 1998
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"Revenge is a dish best served cold." Great story. I laughed my a** off... -Rich
-------------------- Richard Bustamante Signs in the Pines www.signsinthepines.com Posts: 781 | From: Nevada City, California | Registered: Nov 1998
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John C.- Avalardo Hernandez was the biggest kid in the 4th grade and a bully. In fact he attained the majestic height of 5'6" early on. Too bad for A.H. (significant initials) it's as big as he ever got. All of his victims outgrew him.
You should be nice to the people you meet on the way up because you'll meet the same ones on your way back down. ________________my dad
Posts: 1859 | From: / | Registered: Nov 1998
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