2007-09-14
he ain't heavy, he's my brother
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Alright, yesterday's post was a bit of a buzz kill, so I am going to jump into the Way Back Machine and share a fond memory of my brother with you.
When I was eight years old my brother was 16. He was a hockey player and a serious body builder. My father created a makeshift gym in our basement and my brother Jack worked out daily and drank quasi protein shakes (some weird concoction that had powdered something, water and a raw egg in it -- yuck) to build up muscle mass. Basically my dad was trying to engineer a super-human hockey player through my brother.
My brother wasn't your typically gangly teenager.
So I was just a child in third grade and for some reason this boy who lived around the corner used to beat me up every day after school. His name was Eddie L@V0ie and he was crazy. He truly had a strange, not normal look to his eyes. They were kind of bugged out and he just had a very weird expression on his face all the time. I am absolutely serious when I say I think he has some type of mental imbalance and I think it has been with him since childhood. (Yikes, I just did a Zabasearch on him and he still lives in Michigan. He is 40 now and I am still afraid of him.)
This was not your typical I-like-you-so-I'm-going-to-pull-your-pigtails kind of beating. This kid beat the crap out of me daily. He pummeled my ribs with his fists as he sat on my back to pin me to the ground. We lived about three blocks away from the elementary school, so I walked to and from school each day by myself.
Since Eddie lived about six houses around the corner from me he took the same path home.
Each day, toward the end of school, I would think about the walk home and how I was going to run faster this time and make it to my house. What used to happen was somehow I would make it a block and a half without Eddie on my tail. Then he would start running behind me.
Revelatory side note: Geez, I just realized why I am deathly afraid of being chased. Seriously, I panic when someone chases me, even if that person is just goofing around. I told my husband when I first met him to promise me he would never chase me, even in a joking, friendly, I'm-gonna-get-you kind of way. I really cannot take it and it FREAKS me out. I have told my children not to chase me. It doesn't matter who is doing the chasing, I can't take it.
And I just realized right now, this minute, why I cannot handle being chased.
Because of Eddie L@V0ie. From THIRTY YEARS ago. Wow.
Okay, so I would run for a block or so and I would make it to the house diagonally across the street from my own house. Every day Eddie would tackle me on the Foldi's front lawn and I could see my own house as I was writhing on the grass being beaten by Eddie L@V0ie. Every day I would tell myself I was going to make it home, across the street, and every day I was beaten by Eddie.
My memory is fuzzy on the details. I know it was summer or spring because it seems it was warm out and I remember the grass being green (no leaves or snow).
Also, I had to have been screaming while this was taking place. Mrs. Foldi was a stay-at-home mom. Why didn't she notice this boy beating me on her front lawn every day?! So much for Neighborhood Watch.
I don't remember how the beating would end. Did Eddie get tired after a while and just stand up and walk away? I don't remember. Did I lie there in a fetal position after the beating or did I jump up and run home? Don't remember.
Eventually my parents found out about this. I don't know if I told them or what. But my mother sent my brother to protect me. So it was all settled. My brother was going to meet me after school and take on Eddie. Now my mom told Jack to make sure he didn't hurt Eddie because Eddie was so much younger. Jack was instructed to put the fear of God into Eddie.
So I was really excited that day and could not wait for school to end. Finally the bell rang and there was Jack, my protector. We walked for a block or so and then Eddie appeared, somewhat confused since my 16-year-old heavily muscled brother was with me. Jack asked me, "Is this him?" as he pointed to Eddie. I nodded my head furiously, "Yes, that's him!" I said with confidence.
The street corner we were standing on had a blue mailbox on it. My brother told Eddie that he better not touch me again. Then Jack grabbed the collar of Eddie's shirt in his fist and dragged Eddie next to the mailbox. He secured Eddie's back against the metal box by holding Eddie's shirt in his fist and pressing his fist into Eddie's chest.
Jack then told Eddie if he ever looked at me the wrong way, Jack was going to rip Eddie's nose off his face and put it inside that mailbox. Eddie would live without a nose if he ever thought about touching me again, much less beating me up.
That solved the problem. Forever.
I did just tell Jack yesterday that I truly cannot put into words how great it felt to have my big brother protect me. I felt as if I had an invisible force field around me. I was immune to Eddie's fury from that point on. And every time I saw Eddie after that, I smiled because I knew my brother would save me.
I really love my brother Jack.
2007-09-14 at 6:38 a.m.
