Cowards
A short story about being young and curious.
“All things truly wicked start from innocence.” Ernest Hemingway
We were kids back then, standing in a field, wondering if we were cowards or not. “Why don’t we punch each other in the face?” I suggested, so we did. But just as I went to punch Carl, he turned towards my fist, and I caught his nose. It started bleeding all over his shirt. He got mad and said he was going to punch me in the nose, too, only he caught me below the eye instead. “I should get another turn,” he said, but I told him fair’s fair. Just because I wasn’t bleeding, didn’t mean he got another turn.
As for his shirt, we figured maybe we could wash it in a puddle. The field was full of them. Once we found one clean enough, we washed his shirt, but then he worried about going home all wet.
We sat down on the knoll, still trying to figure out if we were still cowards or not.
“I’m gonna dry off over there,” Carl said, pointing to a grass knoll by the bicycle path. I followed him over. We sat down on the knoll, still trying to figure out if we were cowards or not.
While we were doing that, these two girls from school came riding by on their bikes. One of them — Annie — said to Carl, “Why’s your shirt all wet?”When he told her he’d slipped in a puddle, she said “That wasn’t very smart.” I didn’t particularly like Annie. She thought a lot of herself. At the school sock hops, she wouldn’t dance with any of us. She was hung up on one of her brother’s friends. They were in first year high school.
Lucy — her friend — wasn’t stuck up. She’d dance with anyone. She knew boys wanted to press up against her boobs. She was developed for her age.
One time, we found an old Playboy in the neighbour’s garbage. It was all musty, but we’d sit out behind the garage, and look at the centrefold. I’d say to Carl, “What would you do if Lucy showed you her boobs?” and he’d say, “I’d shake them.” Made sense at the time.
Seeing Annie and Lucy now, sitting on their bikes with their tanned legs and halter tops, it made Carl and me wonder if maybe punching each other in the face hadn’t been such a bad idea. At least the girls stopped and talked to us. Annie even leaned over on her bike and said to Carl, “What’s wrong with your nose? It’s all red and puffy.”
“He punched me in the face,” Carl said, meaning me.
“I wasn’t trying to hit you in the nose,” I said.
“Why would you punch him in the first place?” Annie asked.
It was too embarrassing to tell them the truth. I said it was a bet who could hit the hardest. “He turned into my punch,” I told them.
“At least they don’t go around punching each other in the face,” she said.
“You’re morons,” Annie said. “C’mon, Lucy, let’s go watch the game.” Her brother and his friends were playing over at the baseball diamond. “At least they don’t go around punching each other in the face,” she said.
After they rode off, Carl says to me me, “Why’d you say that?”
“Say what?”
“That I walked into that punch.”
“We’ll, you did.”
“Now they think I’m an idiot.”
It wasn’t like we could anything about it now. So we laid back in the sun and thought about cowards again. We couldn’t be cowards if we were willing to get punched in the face. At least we knew what it felt like to get punched — even bleed, in Carl’s case. I thought that made us a damn sight less cowardly than most kids our age. How many of them had been punched in the face? They’d probably start bawling.
Anyway, that’s what we were discussing when who comes riding back along the bicycle path but Lucy. She must’ve left Annie at the game. “How’s your nose?” she asked, and Carl said it was okay. “Poor you,” she said.
She got off her bike and took a closer look.
“You’ve still got blood on your shirt,” she said.
“My mom’s gonna kill me,” Carl said.
“I’ve got water,” Lucy said, getting the water bottle off her bike.
She told Carl to take off his shirt. He didn’t want to at first.
“I can’t clean it if you’re wearing it,” she said.
“Maybe your mother won’t kill you now,” she said, tussling his hair.
So he took his shirt off and she poured water on the blood stains, then rubbed them until it looked like they were coming out. “That’s the best I can do,” she said, handing him his shirt to put back on. “Maybe your mother won’t kill you now,” she said, tussling his hair.
Then she sat down on the grass, and laid back. All I could think was, Lucy’s lying here with us, and her boobs are even bigger than I thought.
Carl must’ve been thinking the same thing. Not that it would do him any good. Once a girl tussles your hair, you’re practically her little brother.
“Why’d you leave the game?” I asked.
“They’re jerks,” she said. “Annie’s brother keeps staring at me.”
“Doesn’t he have a bunch of girlfriends?”
“Annie says he does,” Lucy said. “She keeps dragging me over there because she’s interested in Clint. It’s always Clint this, Clint that.”
“You don’t like Clint?” Carl said.
“He’s too old,” she said.
She looked over, blocking the sun with her hand.
“I’d rather hang out with people my own age,” she said. “They don’t think so much of themselves.”
“We sure don’t,” Carl said.
We could see her bra strap and part of her boob. When she scratched her knee, we could see even more.
She rolled on there side, looking at us. We could see her bra strap and part of her boob. When she scratched her knee, we could see even more.
“Why would you punch each other in the face?” she asked.
“Just to see who could hit hardest,” I said.
Lucy stretched, yawned, and laid back with her eyes closed.
“Well, take it easy you two,” she said. “You’ll ruin your good looks.”
Carl nudged me, and I nudged him.
“Hey, would you go out with us?” I asked.
She turned her head and shaded her eyes.
“Where would you take me?” she said.
“Milkshakes at the A&W?”
“I’ll think about it,” she said, getting up. “I’d better get going. My mother wants me home by four. Hope the swelling goes down, Carl,” she said, getting on her bike. “See you around, guys.”
“You bet,” we said.
With that she rode off. Carl started chewing on a piece of grass. He said, “I don’t have enough to buy her a milkshake.”
“What’s the matter with you? She said she’d go out with us.”
“What’re you going to do if she does?”
“I dunno.”
“Are you gonna ask to feel her boobs?”
“Maybe.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
“We should’ve just asked to see them when we had the chance. That’s what Annie’s brother would’ve done. We’re chickenshits. Now we have to buy her a milkshake.”
Carl tossed the piece of grass he had in his mouth. “We should’ve just asked to see them when we had the chance. That’s what Annie’s brother would’ve done. We’re chickenshits. Now we have to buy her a milkshake.”
He stood up and felt his shirt. It seemed to be dry.
“I’d better get home,” he said. “Does my nose look that bad?”
“It’s pretty red,” I said. “What’re you going to say?”
“Beats me.”
“Tell her you got hit with a softball or something.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he said. “She pretty much knows when I’m lying.”
“Don’t tell her I punched you in the face, for chrissake.”
Over dinner that night, my parents asked what happened to my eye. I hadn’t thought about it. I went to the washroom, and there it was, a black eye. “I got it playing softball,” I said, and they told me to be more careful.
Then the phone rang. My mother picked it up in the kitchen. When she hung up and came out again, she said, “That was Carl’s mother. You didn’t hurt your eye playing baseball at all, did you?”
“What’s this?” my father asked.
“They punched each other in the face,” my mother said.
“Who’s stupid idea was that?” my father asked.
“Both of ours, I guess,” I said.
“They’re at the hospital. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Well, Carl’s nose is fractured,” my mother said. “They’re at the hospital. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“It was an accident,” I said.
“Well, you’re grounded,” she said. “All this week and next.”
I went off to my room. Lying there, I figured it was off with Lucy. We couldn’t take her out if we were grounded. Maybe I could explain that at school the next day. Or some time, anyway.
Only I wasn’t expecting Carl to come to school with this huge bandage across his nose. Everyone asked what happened. He’d already told his mother the truth, he couldn’t very well lie now. The teacher heard the story, looked at me, and said there was no place for bullies in this world.
After that, nobody would talk to me. I saw Lucy by the lockers and told her I was grounded. “Poor you,” she said. “Maybe another time.”
We got a couple of Milky Way bars from the store and ate them behind the garage, looking at that Playboy centrefold again.
I caught up with Carl on the way home. I told him what she said. He apologized for ratting on me. I said it was okay. I probably would’ve done the same. We got a couple of Milky Way bars from the store and ate them behind the garage, looking at that Playboy centrefold again. “What would you do if that was Lucy?” I asked him for the millionth time, and he said, “I’d shake her boobs.” Then he asked, “What would you do?”
“I dunno,” I said. “I don’t want to fracture them or anything.”
We agreed we shouldn’t shake them…at least, not on a first date.
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Robert Cormack is a satirist, blogger and author of “You Can Lead A Horse to Water (But You Can’t Make It Scuba Dive).” You can join him — and others — every day by subscribing to robertcormack@medium.com/subscription.
