Not all bullies are created equal, you know?
But their effect on others are usually the same. Fear, and coping. I was afraid, just like the rest of the kids on the bus. So I had to find a way to cope. The moment I got on, I was on guard. A quick glance to the back of the bus would give me an idea of how I would have to deal with the next twenty minutes or so… once Keith was on, I could relax a bit.
For that twenty minutes, I had to make sure I wasn’t noticed by one of the bullies in the back. The King’s Park boys. Of course, not all the kids from King’s Park were bullies. There were several little kids who all sat in front. I’m sure some were just normal little kids. But from my seat halfway between the front and back of the bus, I would watch them and it was clear that many were little bullies in the making. All they needed was practice. They had a ready made target to practice on so… practice they did.
The target was always Jerry. Jerry Gottlieb. He also lived in King’s Park and he was the eternal target because he was “fat” and “stupid” and would react to his tormentors in the most “entertaining” ways.
Jerry was also a target for the bigger King’s Park boys in the back but I imagine they had already gotten bored with torturing him by the time I got on. Probably soon after they got on. Satisfied with whatever had happened while they were all waiting for the bus themselves (just twenty minutes or so earlier) they were no doubt happy to see the little bully wannabe kids in front take over. Jerry was screwed from all sides. He had to sit as close as possible to the little shits in front to keep as far from the back as he could. If he even put one seat between himself and the occupied seats in front of him, the boys in back would be on him in a nanosecond.
“Get your smelly fat butt up there Jerry.” Or some such thing. “I can smell you from here… and TURN AROUND!”
Jerry then would have to face humiliation from little kids directly in front of him (some as young as young as five or six) as they taunted and spat on him and giggled and laughed… repeating all they’d heard and seen inflicted upon Jerry earlier by their older counterparts.
Most of the time, the bullies in the back were completely done with Jerry by the time I got on. By then (as I said in a previous post) they were too busy fighting among themselves and/or talking about whatever crimes they were planning for the day, to give me much notice. But anyone getting on the bus at all was always at risk. The bullies in the back would stop whatever they were doing and check for any opportunity. Something “fun” or even better… “profitable.”
I just tried to get myself sat down as quickly as I could. But I couldn’t rush it. Making sure to not make eye contact with anyone, I would slip into seat in the neutral space exactly between Jerry and the bullies in the back. Exactly in the middle. If I was one seat closer to the back, I would risk notice from the bullies. If I was nearer the front, Jerry might try and seek some refuge. Try and make me an ally. That would be the worst. If anyone on the bus thought I had any sympathy for Jerry, I was done for.
It was a hellish twenty minutes. Since the King’s Park kids were pretty much the only other kids on the bus when I got on (and I was new to the neighborhood) I felt completely exposed. Naked. Like, I was under constant scrutiny and even if the bullies in back were very distracted, I felt their looks on me raise the hairs on the back of my neck.
Then… as I said before, then Keith got on and everything changed.
And everything will now again have to be…
To be continued…
