Amphibian

by Carla Gunn

  I decided my best bet was to race to the swings as soon as the bell rang because that’s something you can do well all alone. It sure beats wandering around the playground kicking at the dirt. I knew it was a bit risky being on the swings without Bird – there’s more safety in the number two because it’s easier to watch out for bullies – but I decided to chance it. I should have known better, though. It was just too much risk. The playground is sort of like the savannah. There are all sorts of predators.

  I prefer the bullies who at least give you a warning. For example, there’s a bully named Walter who usually says, ‘Get out of my way, kid,’ which is his strike one. If you don’t move, he’ll say, ‘Get out of my way, you little beep-er,’ although the beep part is something else. If you still don’t move, he’ll trip you to the ground. I’ve never gotten to the being-tripped part, but I’ve seen some kids who have. It’s not pretty.

  I like Walter the best of the bullies for another reason too. He bullies because he wants something, and that something is usually pretty easy to figure out. It might be a swing or it might be that you’re in his way at the water fountain. Bullies like Lyle are different. They just like being mean, and they really like it when their prey is scared or cries. The man who talked to our class about bullying said that bullies don’t feel good about themselves and being mean is how they feel more powerful. I don’t think that’s true. I think some of the bullies feel too good about themselves.

  The girl bullies are a little different. They don’t kick or punch, but they say mean things. Really mean things. They tell other girls that they can’t play with them because they’re too ugly or they call them names like she-male.

  One time I was on the swings without Bird and these two girls came up to me and told me to get off the swing. I told them I got there first. They started calling me nerdo and brainiac and said they got there first and were going to tell the teacher on me. I said, ‘Go ahead,’ but they didn’t. That’s called bluffing. They remind me of a Caribbean stomatopod that has just molted but still threatens intruders by waving a claw. The new claw is too soft and weak for a good fight, but the intruder doesn’t know that.

  I had been swinging for about seven minutes when I saw trouble. Lyle was heading my way. I looked around to see if I could spot where the teachers were. That’s what kids like me do on the playground.

  I saw one teacher way off by the slides. She was looking in my direction, but I figured she couldn’t make out the look on my face. I looked at the fifth-grade kid swinging next to me, but he wasn’t paying any attention and didn’t look like he’d be much help anyway. The bully experts say to stand up for each other or run to tell a teacher when you see someone being bullied but most of us don’t think that’s such good advice. If a kid tells on a bully he’s the next one with the bruises.

  I tried to get a hold of myself. I forced my face into a full-teeth smile because I knew that would calm me down. When I do that, my mother says I remind her of Snoopy from Charlie Brown or like I’m airing my teeth out. I also stopped swinging and rubbed my hands together to warm them up because on the Discovery Channel it says that you can’t feel really stressed out and have warm hands at the same time.

  By the time I had rubbed my hands together thirteen times, Lyle was standing beside me. He said, ‘Hey, froggie boy, get the fuck off the swing.’

  I didn’t say anything. I tried to stare straight ahead. Then I stopped warming my hands and started swinging again.

  ‘I said, get the fuck off the swing, you little fucker,’ said Lyle. ‘What are you, deaf? Your little froggie ears not working?’

  I kept staring straight ahead and pumped my legs as fast as I could. I could see the kid next to me glancing over to see what was going to happen. In a few seconds, I was quite high and I could see the top of Lyle’s baseball cap. He was standing there with his face all ugly and his hands on his hips. If I stuck my foot out, I figured I could actually kick him in the head. I had to concentrate really hard to get that thought out of my mind. I don’t like it when I have thoughts like that because I figure that only a few brain cells stand between thinking about something and actually doing it.

  My mother told me a story once of how she hated her best friend’s little dog. The dog would growl and nip at her heels and once it bit her hand. One day her friend and the little dog were walking ahead of her on a log over a stream when my mother suddenly had the thought of kicking the little dog off the log. She said the next thing she knew, her foot went out and lifted the dog up and off the log and dropped him into the stream. I figure one or two of her brain cells went wonky. Even though I’d never do that to a dog, I’m afraid that brains cells going all wonky might be a genetic condition. I had to think really hard about keeping my foot away from Lyle’s head.

  Now that I think about it, that may not have been the best idea. I likely should have kicked Lyle in the head – as long I kicked him hard enough to make him go unconscious. I should have done that before he had a chance to do what he did to me. That’s because without any warning – other than another ‘I said, get the fuck off the swing, you little fucker’ – Lyle grabbed on to my swing which stopped me all of a sudden and made me fall backwards off onto the gravel and hit the back of my head on the ground. Then Lyle immediately jumped on the swing and started swinging, which meant that I had to roll out of the way really fast.

  I jumped up quickly and walked toward the school. I could hear Lyle behind me saying, ‘Where are you going, you little froggie sookie baby? Do you need me to call a whaaambulance? Whaa, whaa, whaa.’

  I was really, really mad, and the back of my head hurt. I walked over to the bench.

  Lyle said, ‘You’d better not be going to tell on me or I’ll be having your frog legs, you little fucker.’

  I sat down on the bench and rubbed my head. If I was a capuchin monkey, I’d pee on my hands and feet because that’s what the ones who have been picked on do to relieve stress. Thankfully I’m not a capuchin because peeing on my hands didn’t sound like something that would relieve stress for me. Peeing on Lyle might, though.

  I started to imagine all sorts of things that I would like to happen to Lyle – like an arrow going right through his hollow head or being eaten from the inside out by bot-fly larvae.

  Then I started thinking again about how the advice of ignoring a bully doesn’t work. Why do they tell us that anyway? I really should have kicked him in the head. I watch Dr. Phil with my mother sometimes and once he talked about how people do the things they’re rewarded for. I think if you ignore a bully like Lyle and then he ends up beating you up and getting something he wants, then he’s being rewarded for it. I should have kicked him in the head.

  As I was thinking about how this day sucked, I saw a shadow in front of me. I looked up and saw the fifth-grade kid who was on the next swing when Lyle attacked me. He was standing in front of me. He was quite a big kid – not big fat, but big tall and big muscular. He had a tattoo of a dragon on his arm. I knew it was likely just a cereal-box tattoo, but it still made him look tough.

  ‘I saw what happened back there, kid,’ said the big fifth-grader. ‘If you pay me five dollars, I’ll beat that kid up for you.’

  I looked up. I blinked because the sun was in my eyes. The kid was looking at me, waiting for an answer.

  ‘I don’t have any money with me,’ I said.

  ‘That’s okay,’ said the big kid. ‘I can do it for you tomorrow after lunch. I’ll meet you by the swings. Bring the money.’

  ‘But what would you do to him?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, for five dollars, I can hit him or kick him five times,’ said the big kid. ‘Then I could tell him to leave you alone or next time it will be ten.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, because I didn’t know what else to say.

  The big kid said bye and walked back over to the swings. So now I need five dollars for five bucks.

  That night at supper my mother asked me about my day. I didn’t tell her about Lyle pushi
ng me off the swing. What’s the point? It doesn’t help. This is what happens:

  1. She gets mad.

  2. She goes to the school to talk to Mrs. Wardman and Principal Legacie.

  3. They say things to make her feel better.

  4. She comes home and tells me things are under control but to stay away from that kid.

  5. Things are better for about three days because the teachers are keeping an eye on Lyle.

  6. On day four everyone’s guard is down and Lyle strikes again.

  After supper I went to my swimming lesson at the Y. My swimming instructor’s name is Leah, and the lesson that evening was about what to do if you see a person unconscious in or near the water. There are things you have to look for before you go to help. They are: gas, glass, fire, wire, people, pets and poison. All of those things can be dangerous, and you need to rule them out before helping. It seemed strange to some of the other kids that pets was on the list, but not to me. I know that companion animals – especially dogs – protect their humans. It would be easy for a dog to think you were harming his human if he saw you pushing on his chest.

  After everybody could name off the things to look out for, we practiced the back float. I’m actually getting good at swimming, and that makes me happy because many of the species I want to save live in the ocean. There are also species in the ocean that I want to figure out a way to talk to.

  One of those animals is the dolphin. The dolphin is extremely intelligent. The dolphin is also very social like humans are. I would like to know what the dolphin is thinking about what is happening to the earth. Maybe dolphins have some ideas about what we can do about it.

  That’s why a headline in the newspaper yesterday caught my attention. It said: ‘Bottlenose Dolphin Attacks Swimmer.’ It was about how a dolphin in the waters around England butted a swimmer with his nose and wouldn’t let him get out of the water. The biologist said that there have been other attacks on humans by bottlenose dolphins too. He said that scientists are trying to figure out if they got it wrong when they said dolphins are gentle. I have a different idea: I don’t think it’s that scientists haven’t figured out what dolphins are really like – I think it’s that dolphins have figured out what humans are really like. That reminded me of the chimps in a zoo in Sweden who stockpiled rocks and poop and threw them at visitors. They fought back, just like those dolphins.

  As I was doing the back float, something green out the window where my mother was sitting caught my attention. I stopped floating backwards and started treading water to get a better look. Sure enough, there was something green standing beside her. I couldn’t make out what it was so I did the back float to the edge of the pool to get closer. When I got there, I treaded water again and could clearly see something I’d rather have not seen.

  I closed my eyes hard and hoped what I saw would disappear. But when I opened them again, it was still there, green as ever. What’s with all the green, anyway? Doesn’t he have shirts in any other colour? And didn’t my mother say he was away in Europe or Asia or someplace? What was that man doing back in Canada? And at the Y? With my mother?

  I tried to catch my mother’s eye. But she wasn’t even paying attention to me. Aren’t mothers supposed to watch their kids – especially when they’re in a big, possibly dangerous body of water when they can hardly even swim? What if the lifeguard suddenly sneezed and it was at that exact moment that I got a cramp in my leg and sank to the bottom of the pool?

  Brent was laughing so hard he looked like a bobblehead doll. I once saw a Jesus bobblehead doll and a Jesus action-figure doll in a store. The Jesus action figure had arms that could move up and down and was on wheels so that you could roll him around. The package said he was the coolest action figure since G.I. Joe. My mother thought it was a little disrespectful. I thought G.I. Joe would be way cooler.

  Leah blew the whistle for us to get out of the pool. We all got out as quickly as we could because there are only four showers and ten of us in the swimming lesson. Luckily, I was near the ladder and got out second. I showered and dressed as fast as I could because I couldn’t stand the thought of Brent talking to my mother for too long.

  When I got out to where my mother was, Brent was still there. He and my mother turned to smile at me. Brent said, ‘Hey, Phin, how are you doing?’ Then, without even waiting for me to answer, he said, ‘You’re a good swimmer, Phin, are you going to try to earn badges right up to the lifeguard level?’

  I just shrugged.

  Then my mother nudged me and said, ‘What do you think, Phin?’

  I just shrugged and then bent down to tie my shoes.

  Then my mother changed the subject. She said, ‘Brent, you must be feeling pretty good right about now. The critics loved your book – and I’d have to agree with them, by the way.’

  ‘Ah, Liza, you’re too kind.’

  ‘She may look nice, but she’s not,’ I said as I stood back up.

  My mother and Brent laughed, which wasn’t exactly the reaction I expected. Then my mother said, ‘Well, we’ll let you get back to your treadmill, Brent. It was nice talking with you.’

  ‘You too, Liza,’ said Brent. ‘I’ll give you a call soon. Maybe see you next week, Phin.’

  I just shrugged. My mother poked me in the side but that didn’t make me say anything.

  When we got into the car, I knew I was in for it, and I was right.

  ‘Phineas William Walsh,’ said my mother, ‘that was incredibly rude. When someone asks you a question, answer it. When someone is trying to be nice, and you don’t have any good reason for not being nice back, then be nice back. How would you feel if someone ignored you like you just ignored Brent?’

  ‘Depends who it is,’ I said even though I knew that was the wrong answer. ‘And who says I didn’t have a good reason?’

  ‘Phineas!’ snapped my mother. ‘I don’t want to see behaviour like that out of you again. Do you understand?’

  I didn’t say anything.

  Then my mother said, ‘If you are rude like that again, you’ll lose a privilege.’

  That’s when I got mad and my mad was madder than hers. I said, ‘What are you going to take away? You already took away the Green Channel, and that’s about the only thing I want to watch on TV. What are you going to take away next? I know – how about half of my brain? Then I’d be happy talking to that man!’

  My mother said in a quiet voice, ‘Phin, just consider yourself warned. I mean it – being polite to my friends is not an option; it’s a requirement.’

  I didn’t say anything, and we drove the rest of the way listening to the radio. The song ‘Are You Happy Now?’ was playing, which I guess is a good example of irony.

  At home I went right to my bedroom. I found my wallet and counted out five dollars.

  I woke up this morning with a bad feeling in my stomach. Part of it was because I didn’t sleep very well. I didn’t go to my mother’s room because I was still mad at her for the whole Brent thing. I stayed in my room, but I couldn’t sleep. The last time I looked at the clock, it was 2:13. When I woke up, it was 6:11, which is an hour before I have to get up for school.

  I think the biggest reason for the bad feeling in my stomach, though, was that I was worried about paying that big kid to beat up Lyle. So while my mother was still sleeping, I checked the internet to see if there are areas of the body that the big kid shouldn’t hit. I didn’t want this to turn into a case of kidslaughter.

  One page I found on Yahoo! Answers said there are many major points on the human body that can cause pain, damage, unconsciousness and even death. Most of the death and unconsciousness spots were on the head. I made a note to tell the big kid not to hit or kick Lyle in the head. There were also some other danger spots listed on the site. I wrote down the ones that looked the most dangerous:

  1. the windpipe or throat at the centre portion of the neck – a strong hit can sometimes kill a person.

  2. the jugular vein and carotid artery, which su
pply blood to the heart and brain.

  3. the heart – a strong blow could cause it to skip beats and in some cases can kill a person.

  4. the kidneys – damage can cause internal bleeding and death.

  5. the floating ribs since these ribs are not connected to the sternum and can break and pierce the liver or spleen resulting in rapid bleeding causing death.

  After learning about all of this, I wanted to make sure I knew exactly where the heart, liver and floating ribs are so I could tell the big kid to avoid them. I typed ‘where is the heart’ into Yahoo! Answers. All it came up with was: Looking for where is the heart? Find it on www.eBay.com.

  So then I did a search for it in Google, which led me to Wikipedia. That’s where I found that one third of the heart is to the right of the middle of the chest and two thirds is to the left. (I also found out that a person can have heart cancer, although it’s very rare, and that people get ‘holiday heart syndrome’ from drinking too much. The thing in Wikipedia that surprised me the most was that humans can have heartworm, although that’s usually found in dogs. In humans, though, the worm usually dies quickly.)

  Next I found out that the liver is the largest organ of the body (it weighs three to four pounds) and is beneath the rib cage and on the right side. Then I learned that the floating ribs are the last two ribs (the eleventh and twelfth) on both the front and back of the rib cage. They are attached to vertebrae but not to the sternum, which is a long flat bone in the middle of the chest.

  All of this seemed a little confusing written down, so I decided to draw a picture of Lyle and label all the parts that the big kid shouldn’t hit or kick. I made Lyle’s face mean and angry so it wouldn’t seem hard to hate him and hit him in the other parts.

  At school, I found it really hard to concentrate because I knew what was going to happen at noon hour. Bird was still sick, and I really wished he were there so at least we could be worried together. I kept sneaking peeks at Lyle to see if he had any idea about what was up. But he seemed exactly the same – mean. He got in trouble twice before recess. Once for peeing all over the floor in the bathroom. Mrs. Wardman knew it was him because he was the kid who went to the bathroom just before Justin, who came back and said there was pee all over the floor. Mrs. Wardman told Lyle that was unacceptable, and if it happened again, he wouldn’t be able to pee at school – he’d have to wait until he got home. That’s when Lyle got in trouble the second time. He said, ‘That’s impossible! I can’t hold my piss that long!’ Mrs. Wardman wrote him up a misbehaviour for saying piss. This surprised me because he’s said it before without getting in trouble.