21 Now, The Young Speaker finished his lower
school a season early, and went on to his middle school. As his mother
signed him in, the Principal appeared. "I want no trouble here," he
said, "like there's been in other schools. The problems here are well
in control, and the Teachers need no interference from children.
Remember your place!" He departed without another word.
22 "I don't think he likes me, mother!" The Young Speaker laughed, as
the man left. A couple of days later he walked to school with a friend
he had made in his neighborhood. As they approached the school yard,
six bigger boys blocked the sidewalk.
23 "Well, if it isn't the holier-than-thou little do-gooder!" the
apparent leader said. "Listen, you religious fag, and listen well
...we're The Thundering Hawks, and this is our territory. You don't
mess with us. You do, you get your head flattened! There's none of us
here afraid of your ghosts or your mumbo-jumbo! No son of a whore is
wrecking OUR sweet pickings! So, around here, keep your mouth
shut, understand?"
24 "I understand" snapped The Young Speaker, "that if you insult my
mother again, I will have to deal with your foul mouth. I don't care
what you say about me, but respect my mother's dignity!"
25 "A whore's a whore," the boy answered, "whether she's got dignity or
not!"
26 The Young Speaker spat in his face.
27 "You little ass!" roared the boy. He brought his hand up and went to
swing, but The Young Speaker's hand also came up. The fist met his open
palm. There was a sharp CRACK! and a bright flash, the smell of seared
flesh filled the air. The bigger boy stepped back, screaming. "My hand! My hand!" Where his
fist had actually touched The Young Speaker's flesh, the skin was
charred,