Success
I was on fire for the lord. I was all about Jesus. I wasn't part of a cool clique of Jesus lovin' kids though. I pretty much was on my own, but that felt right. I was bringing Jesus to those who really needed him rather than wastin' my days preachin' to the choir. I woudn't preach at all. I would be an example. My light would shine and I would be asked, "Keith, you must tell me, how does your light shine so bright?" I was most serious about following Jesus. The real Jesus, the one in the Bible, not the one that hipocrate pastors with nice shiney cars and conservative political views went on about in Sunday sermons. I'd even taken a vow of pacifism, not an easy task for a boy with fighting in his blood.
I was a sophmore attending Success High School, an ironically named continuation school, that is to say, a School you went to after getting kicked out of the regular High School. I'm not sure of the logic behind putting all of us troubled kids together. On the one hand I had some of the best experiences of my life at Success, but on the other, I watched kids who were straight come in, but very few left without giving in to the magnified peer pressure, and they usually were smokin' dope and drinkin' and even listening to rock music by the time they moved on.
I was into Echo and The Bunnymen, Dead or Alive, The Cure, and many other bands that were mighty gay in the eyes of my Metallica lovin' school mates. What you listened to was a big part of how you defined yourself in high school. The not so macho music and associated fashion choice plus my religion made me an obvious choice for Carl, a new kid anxious to prove himself. I was walking by Carl and as I nodded hello he smacked me in the face with a fistfull of batteries. He jumped back in defense, but I didn't start swingin'.
"What the hell?" I asked him.
His response came in more punching, which I managed to duck. I took his legs out from under him and as he came to the ground I slid in and got him tied up in a good head lock. Hours of wrestling with my brother John, a high school athlete, had taught me a few tricks. I wouldn't punch Carl or even put the squeeze on. I'd simply hold him in this position until some adult came to break things up. Unfortunately, the other kids came first and my technique did not provide much in the way of entertainment.
"Let him up. Fight him." Ken instructed me. Ken had long brown hair and loved him some hair rock. He even wore spandex. This was some how macho, where my band t-shirts and plaid pants were gay? I refused to let Carl up and Ken began pulling on my hands to get me to release my hold. I yelled for Carol, the schools secretary and luckily she heard me.
Carl and I sat before Mr. Litke, the principle and when Carl said it was a misunderstanding and that it was all cool now, I allowed this. Oddly enough when we left the office Carl really did feel it was cool now and shook my hand. He turned out to be a nice guy, and he could play Crazy Train on the guitar. Metal head or not, I had to give it up for Crazy Train.
I handled myself pretty well with Carl and this got the other students curious about me. It was naturally assumed that I didn't fight because I couldn't fight. Jarvis was a loud mouth and a conformist and from that fight on he laid into me. Jarvis talked smack, intentionally bumped me with his shoulder when we'd pass each other, and all around did his best to provoke me. I responded to one of his insults and he decided he'd had enough of waiting. He charged me. I saw him coming and it was easy to get past his punches and tie him up, just as I'd done with Carl. Once again Ken, who was Jarvis' best pal, was on the scene.
"Let him up and fight him or I start kicking." Ken threatened. I was in no position to defend myself from Ken's kicking, so I let Jarvis, now enraged, up and I prepared to defend myself as he charged again. I tied him up again, this time managing to stay standing as I got him in a full nelson, my fists joined behind his head, pushing his head forward to keep him from slamming it back ward into my face. This allowed me to keep Jarvis in front of me if Ken charged and to kick back as well.
Mr. Litke came into the room and broke things up right away. I didn't wait for Carl to explalin that there was just a misunderstanding. I told Litke that they were trying to force me to fight and that I'd nothing but defend myself.
Litke dealt with Jarvis and Ken. I didn't pay attention to the details. On the bus ride back to the "regular" high school, which I would walk home from, Jarvis made it clear that we'd be fighting again the second I stepped off school grounds. And then I surprised him.
"I'd like to be a pacifist, and I'd rather not fight you, but you give me no choice. I'm going to fight back now."
Jarvis continued to threaten, but his nerves got the best of him. A few blocks from the school he announced to any and all that we could get in trouble even if we fight off school grounds and that I was just the sort of pussy to nark. I didn't say a word. I was allowed to walk home in peace and Jarvis laid off of me from then on.
I was a sophmore attending Success High School, an ironically named continuation school, that is to say, a School you went to after getting kicked out of the regular High School. I'm not sure of the logic behind putting all of us troubled kids together. On the one hand I had some of the best experiences of my life at Success, but on the other, I watched kids who were straight come in, but very few left without giving in to the magnified peer pressure, and they usually were smokin' dope and drinkin' and even listening to rock music by the time they moved on.
I was into Echo and The Bunnymen, Dead or Alive, The Cure, and many other bands that were mighty gay in the eyes of my Metallica lovin' school mates. What you listened to was a big part of how you defined yourself in high school. The not so macho music and associated fashion choice plus my religion made me an obvious choice for Carl, a new kid anxious to prove himself. I was walking by Carl and as I nodded hello he smacked me in the face with a fistfull of batteries. He jumped back in defense, but I didn't start swingin'.
"What the hell?" I asked him.
His response came in more punching, which I managed to duck. I took his legs out from under him and as he came to the ground I slid in and got him tied up in a good head lock. Hours of wrestling with my brother John, a high school athlete, had taught me a few tricks. I wouldn't punch Carl or even put the squeeze on. I'd simply hold him in this position until some adult came to break things up. Unfortunately, the other kids came first and my technique did not provide much in the way of entertainment.
"Let him up. Fight him." Ken instructed me. Ken had long brown hair and loved him some hair rock. He even wore spandex. This was some how macho, where my band t-shirts and plaid pants were gay? I refused to let Carl up and Ken began pulling on my hands to get me to release my hold. I yelled for Carol, the schools secretary and luckily she heard me.
Carl and I sat before Mr. Litke, the principle and when Carl said it was a misunderstanding and that it was all cool now, I allowed this. Oddly enough when we left the office Carl really did feel it was cool now and shook my hand. He turned out to be a nice guy, and he could play Crazy Train on the guitar. Metal head or not, I had to give it up for Crazy Train.
I handled myself pretty well with Carl and this got the other students curious about me. It was naturally assumed that I didn't fight because I couldn't fight. Jarvis was a loud mouth and a conformist and from that fight on he laid into me. Jarvis talked smack, intentionally bumped me with his shoulder when we'd pass each other, and all around did his best to provoke me. I responded to one of his insults and he decided he'd had enough of waiting. He charged me. I saw him coming and it was easy to get past his punches and tie him up, just as I'd done with Carl. Once again Ken, who was Jarvis' best pal, was on the scene.
"Let him up and fight him or I start kicking." Ken threatened. I was in no position to defend myself from Ken's kicking, so I let Jarvis, now enraged, up and I prepared to defend myself as he charged again. I tied him up again, this time managing to stay standing as I got him in a full nelson, my fists joined behind his head, pushing his head forward to keep him from slamming it back ward into my face. This allowed me to keep Jarvis in front of me if Ken charged and to kick back as well.
Mr. Litke came into the room and broke things up right away. I didn't wait for Carl to explalin that there was just a misunderstanding. I told Litke that they were trying to force me to fight and that I'd nothing but defend myself.
Litke dealt with Jarvis and Ken. I didn't pay attention to the details. On the bus ride back to the "regular" high school, which I would walk home from, Jarvis made it clear that we'd be fighting again the second I stepped off school grounds. And then I surprised him.
"I'd like to be a pacifist, and I'd rather not fight you, but you give me no choice. I'm going to fight back now."
Jarvis continued to threaten, but his nerves got the best of him. A few blocks from the school he announced to any and all that we could get in trouble even if we fight off school grounds and that I was just the sort of pussy to nark. I didn't say a word. I was allowed to walk home in peace and Jarvis laid off of me from then on.
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