Overreaction

     You are overreacting.  That was the accusation.

     Oh, I should start in the beginning. The Genesis or the root of the cause?  Cause.  Great! I don't know the Pre-Abrahamic genealogies.  The source is my aunt's story.  

     She was walking home with her little sister, my mom, in tow.  It was a lovely day filled with sunshine and laughter.  As they walked a few boys played across the lot.  One threw a rock. then another, one more and disaster.  The rock was aimed for a telephone pole a hundred feet from the sisters. It bounced off the pole and struck the older sister in the eye.  There was a lot of blood, screaming and months of pain.  Eventually a glass eye.

     My whole life I heard this story, well an abbreviated version. "We don't throw stones. My sister, your Aunt Louise has a glass eye because of a boy throwing rocks."  Pause.  "No, he wasn't throwing rocks at her.  It bounced off a telephone pole."  I didn't know my Aunt Louise since she lived, with her nine children, in Colorado. That did not matter.  I valued both my eyes.

     My Dad had moved to Indiana in advance to find a job.  He lived with his brother's family for about three months.  His brother and sister-in-law had two boys born two years apart, Damian and John.  Starting again in a new community, at a new church and a new school with family close by was supposed to make the adjustment easier.  Family was the magnet that drew my family to the Indiana.
      A cousin in the same grade was supposed to means I would have at least one friend.  A friendly face in a crowd of strangers.  Though Damian was little more than a stranger.  Hundreds of miles separated our families. We would attend the same school and the same church.        
     There was an end of summer church party at one of the farms.  We would get to meet some of our classmates and maybe make friends.  Mom wouldn't go since she didn't know anyone...  Dad insisted that my brother and I attend.  It was going to be fun.  Hayrides in the woods, flashlight tag, s'mores, and lot of kids our age.  Well, at least our cousins would be there.

     It was a great party.  There were not many girls my age, but  a ton of boys running wild.  David was at least occupied.  Dad was talking with the men.  I stood at the end of the table fiddling with something. 

The object struck me at the out edge of the of my right eye. It hurt! I was actually knocked out. When I came to, I found a D cell battery on the ground next to me. I was surrounded by inquisitive faces of other children.  "What happened? Something hit me."

     A smirk was on his dimly lit face, "It was him! He threw the battery at you."  Damian pointed to the son of a my soon to be Science teacher, one year younger than us.  I was up like a shot and chasing that boy.  I hadn't had a reason to run like that in years.  I caught him quickly, threw him to the ground, sat on his chest and punched him in the face. A fuse blew, only I don't curse.  Two grown men had to pull me off of him.  

     Once they got our fathers the story came out.  My cousin, Damian, coerced "Daniel" to throw the battery.  Daniel wanted to be friends with the older boy and lacked confidence. Daniel was a little league pitcher and had remarkable accuracy. In my mind Damien was next, but his father convinced everybody I was overreacting.  "Yeah, yeah, everybody knows your sister-in-law lost an eye.  That was years ago!" he told my dad.

      I will let that statement ruminate.  HIS son manipulated a younger boy to hurt another person in such a way that he KNEW could cause permanent damage.  Someone needed to react.