Lyin' Like a Dog, The Yankee Doctor, The Danged Swamp! 3-Volume set

by Richard Mason

Well, Homer Ray couldn’t wait to get a-holt of me after that. Finally, I complained to Mrs. Smith, and she had a talk with Homer Ray, but it didn’t stop. It got worse. That afternoon I told my daddy about the trouble I was having in school.

  “Richard, Mr. Parks and I agreed, you boys have got to work out your own problems. You’ve got to stand up to Homer Ray. Just fight back and I guarantee you he’ll stop. Remember this, you have to be the one that settles a problem like that. It wouldn’t be fair to you if I stepped in again.”

  “Well, I don’t know, Daddy. Homer Ray is a lot bigger than I am. What if he just beats me to a pulp?”

  “Listen, Richard, take my advice. One good punch in the face and you won’t have to worry about him.”

  “Daddy, are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  That night as I lay in bed, I thought about Daddy’s advice. Humm, maybe he’s right. It can’t get much worse. I made up my mind before I went to sleep that I was gonna stop the bullying once and for all, but you know, I’ll admit it, I really wasn’t sure it was gonna work. The next day I got to school early where I’d have plenty of time to slug that moron.

  Here he comes. I hope this is a good idea. If it ain’t, I’m a goner.

  Homer Ray walked over and gave me a shove and a slap on the head.

  “Richard, you are so stupid I ought to pull your ears off.”

  Okay, this is it! I hope you’re right, Daddy.

  “Homer Ray, I’ve got something for you—here.” I said as I held out my hand.

  I guess Homer Ray thought I had some money in my hand to bribe him.

  “Well, let’s see what’s in that skinny hand.”

  He reached out and started to bend my fingers back. Then, as he looked down to see what I had in my hand, I drew back, and with all my might I hit him square in the face. Boy, his head just jerked back when my fist smacked him in the jaw.

  “Ahaaaaa! Why did you hit me? You little rat!”

  “Now leave me alone if you don’t want more of the same!”

  He looked shocked for a moment, and just for just about two seconds I thought the hitting back might work. But then I had my doubts as I saw Homer Ray double up his fists.

  “You stupid, skinny, little worm! I’m gonna kill you for that!”

  Before I could swing again, he punched and grabbed me, and we went down in a flurry of punches, most of which hit me. Finally, with a final slap to the side of my head he got up, and I lay there on the ground for a minute while he stood over me.

  “You skinny rat! Just for that and those damn stickers and hitting me in the face, I’m gonna make you wish you were dead for the rest of the year!” And he kicked me in the side as he walked away.

  John Clayton came over and sat down beside me.

  “Why didn’t you help me? Aren’t you my best friend?”

  “Richard, those eighth-graders that Homer Ray runs around with told me if I even touched Homer Ray, they were gonna pound me into the ground. It wouldn’t have helped you much for me to get beat up.”

  “Well, you’re probably right, but what am I gonna do about Homer Ray? You heard him. He’s gonna beat up on me for the rest of the year.”

  “Richard, when he was walking away, he was rubbing his jaw like you’d really hurt him. I think if you hit him one more time like that, he’ll quit bothering you. Get up and go do it right now. He won’t be suspecting a thing.”

  “You really think so?”

  “Sure, he’ll be so surprised. Get up go do it!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, and this time aim for his nose!”

  You know something? Sometimes you do some really dumb things when you’re mad, and what I did then was right up there with some of the dumbest. John Clayton was smacking his fist in his hand and whispering in my ear—“Go get ’em! Slug him right in the nose! Knock his block off!”

  Shoot, John Clayton had me so fired up I was ready to fight anybody, and I started gritting my teeth as I nodded, “Okay! Okay! I’m gonna knock him halfway to China!”

  Then, without thinking about what he was gonna do when I hit him again, I got up, brushed my clothes off, and started walking over to where that bonehead Homer Ray was standing, talking to his pals.

  John Clayton was right behind me saying, “Go get him! Go get him! Hit him right on the nose! Right on the nose!”

  That worthless Homer Ray had his back to me when I walked up, but John Clayton had me so fired up that I’d already doubled up my fists, and I couldn’t wait to tie into him again.

  “Homer Ray!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

  He turned around, and I swung with all my might. My fist hit him right on the end of his nose just like John Clayton had told me.

  “Take that, you bully!”

  I felt my fist sink into his soft nose, and Homer Ray’s head snapped back from the blow. He looked stunned, and a trickle of blood started dripping from his nose.

  “Oh, ahaa! My nose! It’s bleeding! My nose is bleeding!—Now, I’m really gonna kill you, you little, skinny rat!”

  Right at that moment, I knew the “stand-up and fight” method was out the window. Homer Ray was all over me before I could get in another punch. He knocked me down, and was on top of me, pounding me senseless when all of a sudden someone piled on top of Homer Ray. For a minute I thought John Clayton was trying to help me, but then I realized it was Connie. She dug her fingernails into Homer Ray, and soon all three of us were rolling on the ground.

  “Ahaaaaaaa!” screamed Homer Ray as Connie raked her fingernails down his neck. Shoot, in a few minutes me and Connie stopped trying just to hit Homer Ray. Now we were biting and scratching like two cats. I’d just bitten down on Homer Ray’s arm, and I thought me and Connie might just win this fight.

  Suddenly, “Richard! Connie! Homer Ray! Stop that fighting immediately and get up! I can’t believe the three of you!” Mrs. Smith, our teacher, was standing over us.

  Boy, Mrs. Smith was really mad. She stood there for a moment just shaking her head as she glared at us.

  “Now march yourselves straight to the principal’s office! I’ll be right behind you!”

  She looked at me as I was brushing myself off, “Richard, I can’t believe you’re involved in this!”

  I felt bad because me and Mrs. Smith were friends, and she was my favorite teacher. She was disappointed in me. Homer Ray and Connie were almost to the door, and I ran to catch up with them. The three of us walked single file through the door and into the hall toward the principal’s office. As we started down the hall, Homer Ray looked back at me and whispered, “I’ll get you for this, Richard! You’re as good as dead!”

  I was still so mad I could barely see, and when Homer Ray said that, I swung and hit him as hard as I could right in the stomach.

  “Ahaaaa! I’ll get you! You stupid idiot!” And the fight started again. Connie jumped on Homer Ray’s back and started to choke him, I tackled him around the waist and all three of us crashed to the floor screaming, punching, and biting.

  “Richard! Connie! Homer Ray! Stop that fighting immediately!”

  It was the principal, Mr. Freeman, who ran out of his office when he heard the screaming.

  “Get in my office right now!”

  Mrs. Smith, who had just come into the hall behind us, also ran up. We scuffled into the principal’s office and stood there while Mrs. Smith told the principal about the firstfight, and how we were on our way to his office when the second fight started. Heck, I’m glad she didn’t see fight number one.

  Mr. Freeman looked at us just a-shaking his head, “And you started another fight on your way to my office? I can’t believe this. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

  Homer Ray pointed at me, “Mr. Freeman, I was just standing there, and Richard walked up and hit me,” said Homer Ray.

  “No, no, Mr. Freeman, Homer Ray has been hittin’ me all week!”

  Connie chimed in and soon all three of us were almost yelling at Mr
. Freeman. Finally he just threw up his hands and said, “Quiet, not another word! I’ve heard enough!”

  He walked over to a closet and pulled out a long, wooden paddle.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Smith, you may return to your classroom. I’ll take care of this matter.”

  Mrs. Smith closed the door behind her, and as soon as that door clicked shut, Mr. Freeman reached over, grabbed me by my shoulder, and pulled me to the middle of the room.

  “Richard, bend over and grab your ankles.”

  Getting a whipping at school and at home sure ain’t the same. At home, all kids beg, cry, and jump from the switch, but at school with teachers and your classmates watching, it’s a whole bunch different. You don’t move or cry no matter how hard you’re hit. Today with Connie and Homer Ray watching I was determined not to cry.

  Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap!

  The licks kept coming. I was biting my lip and squeezing my ankles it hurt so badly, but I didn’t cry. Finally, with a final hard lick, I was finished.

  “Connie, I usually don’t whip girls, but since you were fighting like a boy, you’re getting the same punishment.” And with that he grabbed Connie, and she reached over and held her ankles while Mr. Freeman paddled her. I thought Connie would be crying after the first lick, but she never moved or cried.

  “There, I hope this is a lesson to you, Connie. Homer Ray, come here!” Homer Ray walked over, and just as he turned around, he sneered. Mr. Freeman saw him.

  Oh, he’s gonna regret that!

  “I saw that, Homer Ray! Let’s see if I can wipe that smirk off your face,” said Mr. Freeman.

  Then, Mr. Freeman lit into Homer Ray as hard as he could, and with each lick we could see Homer Ray was about to break. Mr. Freeman increased the licks as he finished up, and Homer Ray let out a scream and started crying. I looked at Connie, and we both smiled. Before I knew it, I laughed out loud and said, “Ha, Ha, crybaby!” I immediately wanted to take those words back because Mr. Freeman, who was really worked up now, was just as mad as hops that a kid could laugh after one of his paddlings.

  “Richard, you think it’s funny?”

  “No sir, I’m sorry.” But it was too late.

  “Step over here, and let’s see if you think this is funny!”

  I grabbed my ankles again, and Mr. Freeman started my second paddling. Even though Mr. Freeman was mad as could be, he was tired and this paddling didn’t hold a candle to the first one. Finally, he stopped.

  “I hope the three of you have all learned your lesson. Now return to class, and if I have any more trouble, you’ll be sent home.”

  As we walked back down the hall to our class, Connie was rubbing her backside. I leaned over to Connie and whispered, “Connie, thanks, that was a brave thing you did jumping on Homer Ray when he was beating me up.”

  Connie looked at me, smiled.“That’s what friends are for,” she replied.

  We walked into class and sat down. Everybody was looking at us. Shoot, three fights in one day, and one of them in front of the principal’s office, and on top of that a girl involved in the fighting. I couldn’t wait to tell John Clayton about Homer Ray crying, so I wrote him a note saying, “Homer Ray cried when Mr. Freeman paddled him.” I leaned over and had just reached out my hand to pass the note when Mrs. Smith turned around.

  Oh, no! She saw me.

  Mrs. Smith glared at me. “Richard, bring me that note!” I walked to the front of the class, and Mrs. Smith snatched the note out of my hand.

  “Well, Richard, you know all notes are read to the class. So here, read yours.”

  I was in trouble, but I knew it would be worth another paddling just to read the note to the class.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said and unfolded the note. I looked out in the class. John Clayton had put his head down on his desk, and Connie had her hands over her eyes. They thought I was in for another paddling for sure. That moron Homer Ray was just a-grinning like some wild hyena, because he was sure more trouble was coming my way with this note. I smiled and held the note up over my head. The class looked like they didn’t know what I was doing, and Connie and John Clayton looked up to see why I hadn’t read the note. They were shaking their heads.

  “Richard, read that note right now or you’re going straight to the principal’s office,” said Mrs. Smith.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Then I read as loud and as slow as I could, “Homer Ray,” I read, and then I stopped. Homer Ray looked like stuck pig. Then I shouted, “Cried when Mr. Freeman paddled him!”

  Homer Ray’s face turned as red as a beet. The class snickered, and John Clayton and Ears

  laughed out loud.

  “Class, stop that laughing immediately, or every one of you will be staying after school, and Richard, you can march yourself back to the principal’s office!”

  I slowly started walking back to the door.

  Three paddlings in one day. That must be at least a class record.

  “Richard, just a minute—sit back down and stay after class this afternoon.”

  You know, I think Mrs. Smith thought three paddlings in one day would be too

  much, even for me. I sat back down and as the day passed I thought that after everything that happened, Homer Ray wouldn’t bother me anymore. Wrong. I was late leaving school since I’d been kept after class for passing notes, and that sorry Homer Ray was waiting for me right outside the door.

  Dang! Trouble! Trouble!

  “I’m going to finish what I started this morning,” he yelled and rushed for me. A few glancing blows, and I broke free and started running. No more fighting back.

  That sorry bully really had it in for me, and as the next couple of days passed, he was whipping up on me all the time when I was on the school ground. Heck, since it was up to me to handle Homer Ray, I decided my best defense were my legs. I’m the fastest runners in the seventh grade—well maybe except for Connie—and even though Homer Ray is bigger and heavier, I can out-run him easily.

  My defense against Homer Ray started when I got to the edge of the schoolyard. I would stand there on the edge of the school ground and sprint for the door as soon as the bell sounded. Mrs. Smith let me do extra reading, and I convinced her to let me stay at my desk during recess and read. When school let out, I got in the middle of a bunch of kids leaving, and as soon as I cleared the door, I ran as fast as I could, heading down the road toward home. Homer Ray ran after me yelling and calling me names. Day after day, it was the same.

  He was making my life miserable, and I knew I couldn’t keep doing this the whole school year. Finally the weekend arrived, and on Sunday afternoon I was out behind the barn shooting my slingshot when I had a real good thought. I’d set up six empty cans on the top of the board fence, walked back twenty steps, and starting practicing.

  “Wow, six in a row, without a miss.” I walked over to set up the cans again. “Gosh, look at that dent! Ha, I wish it was in stupid Homer Ray’s head,” I mumbled. Then the plan to stop Homer Ray’s bullying came to me. Heck, it was gonna be real risky, because if something went wrong, I might get beat to death. But, you know, I figured Daddy might be right about smacking Homer Ray in the face, and if a punch or two didn’t stop that bully it would have to be more—a lot more.

  On Monday I was ready to put the plan into action. I arrived at school just in time to run in as the bell rang. I sat out recesses and lunch time, but when school was over that afternoon, I took my time leaving, and sure enough that stupid Homer Ray started after me. Well, I was just shaking thinking about what I was gonna do.

  “Run, you yellow-bellied coward!” he yelled. I took off running just like I’d done on all the other afternoons. But this time, when I ran off the school ground, and when the chase was over, I stopped, turned around and said, “Homer Ray, you’re an asshole!” Dang, I just hope this works, or I’m one dead kid.

  “What? You skinny, little rat, I’m gonna catch you and beat the fool out of you!” He ran after me again as fast as he could,
but I stayed just a few yards ahead of him.

  He was just about to turn and go back toward the school ground when I yelled again, “Asshole!”

  “By God, I’m going to catch you, and when I do, you’ll regret that the rest of your short, little life!” he said as he charged after me again.

  Come on, Homer Ray, keep on running. I sprinted on down the road with Homer Ray running right behind me. After about three stops, asshole comments, and runs, we were well down the road away from the school grounds and any houses. Homer Ray wasn’t used to running, and he was winded and more than ready to quit. Just a little farther, come on, Homer Ray, one more run.

  It took several taunts to get him to make that last run, but finally after one last sprint, he was just where I wanted him, and on top of that he was so tired he could hardly run at all. He turned around and started slowly walking back toward the school as I ran over to an old stump beside the road and pulled out my slingshot that I’d hidden there on my way to school. I’d filled one of my pockets with big, 1-inch round rocks before school. Homer Ray turned around, saw me pull the slingshot out of the stump and place a rock in the pouch. Okay, Mr. Bully, now I’m gonna see what your made of, and I’m gonna see if you can take a bunch more than a punch in the face.

  “You little bastard, if you shoot me with that slingshot, I’ll kill you! I mean it! You better not!”

  He’d no more than gotten the words out of his mouth when the first rock hit him right in the chest.

  “Ahaaaaa!” He screamed and rushed toward me only to take another rock about 6 inches lower.

  “Ohooooo! Come here! I’m gonna get you now!” He ran toward me, but I turned and ran ahead of him, and when he stopped, I turned and started shooting again.

  “Ahaaaaa! Ohoooo! Richard stop!” After several more attempts to catch me, he turned around and started back down the road toward the school. After all the runs we were at least a half mile from school, and Homer Ray was so winded he could hardly walk, much less run.

  “Homer Ray, this is for all those slaps and punches you gave me!” I sent rock after rock at him, smacking him mostly in the middle of his back.

  “Ohooo! Richard, stop! I won’t hit you anymore. I promise! Stop!”