“Where are you losers off to? Need any help getting there?” barked another, being sure to shove his shoulder right into Dodger’s as he walked by us. The force was great enough to push Dodger into me, but he reached his arm out to catch me before I tripped into the street.
“Are you okay?” he whispered, looking at me intently.
“Yeah, are you?” I said, looking back up at him concerned.
Before he could answer, another Squawker started in. “Aww, what happened, Dodge? Did your lady friend have a spill?”
Dodger looked past me, his expression growing serious. I was afraid he would snap, but he instead turned toward the rowdy bunch and spoke cheerfully. “Nah, we caught a whiff of your breath and almost passed out. Nothing a stick of gum can’t fix though, friend. No worries!”
The group froze in place, unsure of how to react to the seemingly polite insult Dodger had just tossed their way. Finally, the tallest one huffed and waved his arm dismissively at us. “Whatever, dude.” And with that, they were finished with us.
I let out a deep exhale, not realizing I had been holding my breath. I was glad to have avoided a fight, still being scared of confrontation in general. Thinking we were in the clear, I relaxed back into a walk toward the pizza place, until we heard the group rev up again behind us.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t another ‘lost boy’,” they jeered. Dodger and I spun around to see the Squawkers circling around a younger boy from rez. The boy was about nine years old and clearly looked intimidated. He was clutching onto a magazine, as if hoping it would protect him from the vultures buzzing about him. I looked up at Dodger nervously, seeing a darkness in his eyes I didn’t recognize. He looked different.
He looked… scary.
Before I was able to decipher what he was thinking though, he took off, marching in the direction of the group.
“Dodger?” I called, hoping to slow him down enough to talk him out of what I feared would happen. But he wasn’t listening. His entire body had filled out, making his muscles tense through his shirt. It looked as if he had grown three feet taller in an instant. My heart raced, knowing full well what he was about to do. “Dodger! Wait, Dodger!”
SMACK!
As quickly as the group had circled the boy, Dodger had thrown the first punch to break them up. As the tallest Squawker fell to the ground, a blur of swinging arms and scuffling shoes began to dominate the corner of the street. My legs buckled, feeling as heavy as the concrete I stood on. The boy from rez ran back across the street, yelling for a counselor.
CRACK! Someone’s face took another hit and suddenly, each time a guy would come up for air, he would be painted in red. I wanted to rush over and help Dodger, not knowing how he would fight off all four of them, but my body betrayed me. I couldn’t move, and suddenly it felt as if a part of me was floating away.
“Hey! Break it up, break it up,” yelled an adult voice from the sidewalk opposite of us. Two counselors had bolted into the fight and scrambled to untangle the mess of bruised and bloodied drama. One managed to hook his arms around Dodger and pull him off of another guy, but not before Dodge gave the kid’s face a final kick.
A third adult walked up to me, her voice muffled from another dimension. “Sam? Are you okay?” I don’t remember if I answered her or not. I just remember wondering what other kinds of things lived deep inside Dodger, and where I had floated off to after he had left me.
“Sam? Are you okay?” Theory asked.
“Huh?” I said, shaking myself out of the past. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking of something. Okay, I’m ready.”
Theory and I stood in the middle of the library. She had moved our chairs out of the center of the room so we had more space to process the memory that I was so determined to defeat today. I thought of the elk from earlier, remembering how patient and strong he had been. It was how I felt now.
“All right, kiddo. You have all of your resources ready if you need to use them,” she reminded me before starting.
“Okay, thanks. I think I got this one on my own, though,” I said, feeling ready for a fight.
“Do you want to tell me what your plan is?” Theory suggested, probably wondering where my sudden inspiration to plow through things had come from.
I took a deep breath and stood tall, the way I remember Dodger doing before he charged into the group of Squawkers. “Yeah. I’m going to help little-me kill Him on her own.”
Theory smiled, almost covertly. “Mm hm. So you are.”
With the wave of her arm, the hologram room, a single green star, and two laughing girls appeared.
This was it. I was going to beat Him today, right now, because I had the missing pieces. The one thing that I had forgotten to use all this time was now sitting right in front of me, like a weapon.
Left, right, left, right.
Little-me and Nova began laughing, Okay, now we need to count to ten before we jump up and catch the flying fish so that they can’t get into the pond again!
Something immediately felt different. I wasn’t distracted this time. This time I didn’t care about how innocent these little kids were, or the horror they had experienced. No, this time they served a new purpose. They would no longer be victims at the hand of someone else. This time, they were going to meet their monster face-to-face and win.
Because this time, they were finally angry.
Left, right, left, right.
Okay, I’m going to count now! Get ready for the flying fish! said the little-me as my younger sister squealed with excitement.
Left, right, left, right.
Ten, nine, eight counted the eldest in her proud kid voice.
“Are you okay, Sam?” Theory asked from outside of the hologram, knowing what came next.
“I’m good, I got this. Let’s keep going,” I told her, settled on finishing it.
Left, right, left, right.
Seven, six, fiiiiiiive….
My heart raced, but not from fear, from anticipation. My hands balled into a fist and I was ready to go to war.
Left, right, left, right.
GIRLS?!
There He was. The monster we had to defeat. Our final test.
Left, right, left, right.
I walked closer to the hologram, staring deeply into the face of little-me, channeling the ocean of rage that lived deep inside me. Her face hardened, and instead of cowering over Nova, she turned toward the door. She balled her hands into fists, just like I had.
Left, right, left, right.
Girls, where the hell are you?! boomed the voice.
Left, right, left, right.
“Sam, remember that you’re safe,” Theory called from the sidelines.
“I don’t need protection,” I said gritting my teeth. “He does.”
Left, right, left, right.
Suddenly, the hologram door burst open and exposed a furious male figure. Do you have any idea how much noise you’re making?!
Little-me bent her knees, as if preparing to leap. Even though the script continued, the energy behind her words had shifted. Dad, I’m sorry. We were just playing and didn’t mean to wake you up.
Left, right, left, right.
Smack! He ripped into little-me’s face with a force that could have broken through a wall, but little-me stayed standing this time. Her eyes glazed over with hatred, silently warning Him that this would be the last time He ever hit her.
Left, right, left, right.
Shocked by her defiance, He took a step back.
Wait, could it be? Was He actually afraid of me this time?!
I knew now that I was right about the missing piece I needed to finally defeat Him. I needed to be ready to let go of my old role as His victim. I was a new person now, who had found a safe place and a safe adult to grow with. I had received enough space, kindness, and faith to be able to do all of this in. It wasn’t strength I was missing anymore.
It was anger.
After the counselors had dragged every
one away from the fight and back inside, they sat us down, leaving Dodger and me alone in the same room as they discussed how to handle what had just erupted. I sat, afraid to talk, watching Dodger’s eyebrow bleed over the eyes that now seemed normal again.
“Ugh,” he grunted, holding a paper towel over his cut, as if just realizing that he’d been hurt. He sighed deeply, slouched in his chair, then looked over at me with a kindness I recognized. “Are you okay?”
I felt mad at him for putting himself into danger like that, but grateful to see him okay. “I guess so. Why does everyone keep asking me that? You’re the one who got your face smashed in.”
“Yeesh, I guess I made you mad, too, then,” he quipped, wincing as he patted his eyebrow dry.
I looked down at the floor, not knowing how to feel about what just happened. After shuffling my feet for a minute, I decided I was, in fact, annoyed. “What happened to you back there? You just, like, snapped.”
Dodger sighed and shifted in his seat. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“Pff,” I huffed, rolling my eyes.
“Sam,” he said, leaning toward me, looking directly at me. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes had turned sweet again, and all I wanted to do was hug him. My heart caved. “It’s okay. You just kinda scared me.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I never wanted you to see that part of me,” he said, bowing his head in guilt.
“Where did that come from? The first time those guys gave us a hard time, you just threw a joke at them. But then they were picking on that kid and you just switched over, like something possessed you.”
Dodger sat quietly, staring into space. “Yeah. I know.”
“Well?” I asked again, pushing him for answers.
He continued to lean forward on his elbows, shaking his head as if he was disappointed in himself. “It’s just that I can’t stand when that kind of stuff happens.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Seeing someone little get pushed around. Like, we’ve all gotten shoved around enough by the people we grew up with. We don’t need to do it with each other,” he said passionately, exposing a Dodger-esque value system I’d later come to greatly admire.
“Yeah, I get that,” I nodded.
“The thing is, I could care less how much crap people give me personally; it is what it is. People say stuff, and you have to let it roll away, like water off a duck’s back. But watching someone smaller get knocked around when I know I can actually do something to help? Well, that’s where I draw the line,” he said unapologetically, sitting back into his chair.
That was it: Dodger’s line in the sand. His line was making sure what happened to him never happened to someone else, if he could help it. That felt like a pretty good reason to bring the thunder down on a bully.
In fact, it felt like a pretty good reason for me to do the same to whoever messed with my sense of safety.
Left, right, left, right.
The hologram flicked with a new energy; a power differential was taking place before me. Little-me held her ground, almost inviting him back in for more with her eyes. He snarled and took a step forward, deciding He’d remind her who was boss.
Left, right, left, right.
As He stepped forward, the ground began to tremble. Nova ducked behind little-me, trying to avoid the wrath that was moving in on them. As she melted to the floor, she caught sight of a long, wooden staff laying nearby. Looking up at her big sister, then back down at the staff, she reached for handle and threw it into little-me’s hands. Little-me grabbed hold of it while still keeping her eyes fixed on Him.
That’s it, now we were armed.
“Well done, Sam,” said Theory, calmly cheering me on from the other side of the room.
I felt empowered. My brain flashed through images of the elk, Dodger’s words of advocacy, and Theory’s unwavering support. It was in that moment that I realized asking for help doesn’t make you weak; it makes you an army.
Left, right, left, right.
The room grew darker and the floor continued to tremble. He marched toward little-me, fists ready to even the score. Little-me crouched to the floor, prepared to strike.
“Fight,” I commanded.
With the bow of her head and a fire in her eyes, little-me leapt like a lion attacking its prey.
AHHHHHHH! Without warning, little-me charged at Him with full force.
SMACK! Her staff hit Him in the side of the head, making Him bend backwards like a tree branch in a storm. Before He could regain His footing, little-me leapt at Him again, stabbing Him through the chest with the handle of her weapon.
Ugh! He whimpered, holding His hand over the wound. She pulled the staff out of Him, then impaled Him a second time. Nova covered her eyes, not wanting to watch the massacre taking place.
Left, right, left, right.
“Well done, Sam! You’ve got him now,” roared Theory.
AHHHHHH! little-me’s battle cry shattered the atmosphere and sent chills down my spine. I felt stronger, in control, and ready to finish the job.
Left, right, left, right.
He stumbled to His knees, dazed from the lethal hits little-me had so fiercely inflicted. Standing over him, with a look of power in her eyes, little-me sat and watched Him struggle to breathe. You’re done picking on us, she said. Leave us alone!
Little-me raised her staff high above her head, and with a final cry to the universe, slammed her staff into the side of His head.
CRACK!
It was done.
Left, right, left, right.
Little-me stood, catching her breath, looking over the body of her abuser. It lay completely still, drowning in a puddle of its own hate.
He was gone.
Finally.
I slowly took a couple steps toward the hologram, amazed that it was over. Little-me turned in my direction, flicks of red splattered across her face like war paint.
I saw now that anger didn’t have to always be scary or uncomfortable. Theory was right: anger’s job was to create action and change. Anger had empowered me to stand up for myself for the first time in my entire life.
Theory waved her arm, sending the hologram to dissolve into thin air. She placed her hand over her heart and bowed her head. “Very good work, Sam. Very, very impressive.”
I smiled, still feeling the buzz of bravery. “Thank you, Theory. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Mm, perhaps,” she said smiling back. “Perhaps not.”
I placed a hand over my heart, matching her silent tribute to our victory. We stood quietly together, our hands on our chest, saying to each other what words couldn’t.
“Our experiences are stepping stones toward our purpose.”
-Theory
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As the noise of my inner world disappeared, the rush of the river and the drumming of raindrops worked to replace it. A drapery of silver fog gravitated over the forest of greens. Magic seemed to live freely in these mountains, expressed in even the simplest pelting of showers.
I was glad it was finally warm enough to rain again; it had been snowing for several days and that made everything feel dark. The rain always cracked open the earth, releasing an alchemy of scents from the forest, like a spilled egg from its shell. A bouquet of pine, wet dirt, and sap saturated the air. As I breathed in nature, she seemed to breathe me in too.
I felt connected to my surroundings suddenly, able to sense the calm that lowered itself from the height of the trees. Shelves of fungi perked up from their trunks, creating a staircase of life to admire.
The forest always looked more beautiful when it was wet because it made everything glisten. The water added a layer of sheen to old autumn leaves on the ground, emphasizing their array of colors.
I ran my fingers across each plant I walked past, noting the tough stature of the pines’ needles and the circular precision of the ferns’ freckles. Every living thing possessed its own unique energy, stretching itse
lf to welcome me in a different way. Even the prickly bulbs of pinecones rested in such a manner that suggested they were cheering me onwards.
The forest was dim and hypnotic, pulling me closer in to explore. The further I walked, the more nature labored to peel away the weight of my demons. Nature had a distinct way of expelling worry in people. It took away obsessive thoughts and replaced them with an abundant brilliance of beauty. There were deep, restorative powers that sat dormant in the water and trees waiting to be accessed.
Trees towered above me, offering their branches to hold all of my secrets as I played near them. The nagging heartache that constantly pulsed through me emptied itself into the soil beneath me. The earth was porous, working intricately to pull the sadness from my body as I hiked over it.
I stood in place and just allowed myself to be. It felt as if nature was guiding me toward my own answers, reassuring me that I could be authentic here; telling me that I didn’t need to be anyone but myself while it watched over me. The longer I stood in the middle of nowhere, the more I felt hopeful about belonging somewhere.
There was a silent agreement taking place between nature and me as I hovered in the tranquility of quietude. She told me that I belonged there, and that if I let go enough, I would be able to trust my own nature. With the coolness of her rain and the unmeasured grace of her prominence, the earth offered me enlightenment. I took a deep breath and walked back toward Theory’s house, ready to work again.
Theory was weaving her hands through the books on the library bookshelf when I came back inside from my walk. “Hey, you. How was your walk?”
“Really nice,” I said, unzipping my hoodie and letting the warmth of the house find its way to me.
“Oh, good. There is always something so refreshing about being in the woods after the snow starts melting.”
I smiled, liking that we shared the same opinion about the outdoors. “Yeah, I think so too.”
Theory stopped shuffling through her reads and met my gaze. She smiled sweetly and we looked at one another in a suspended moment of silence. Her eyes were kind and inviting, as if she had been waiting to see me again. I felt excited to be near her and was always so grateful to come home to someone who genuinely cared about me. I hoped I’d never have to leave. Judging by the look she was giving me now, I suspected she felt the same.
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