Phyllis Rackman is still trying to deal with the arrival of her nephew Tommy into her life,
and wondering whether he truly is different from the men she learned to hate.
But a chance encounter on a playground makes her think ... and maybe hope.

Passing It On
A Tommy Browder Tale
by Randalynn

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“Let the first impulse pass, wait for the second.” -- Baltasar Gracian

"Never act on impulse. Plan first. Think it through. Then act." -- Luc Saint-Cyr

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As Phyllis Rackman drove through town, she wasn’t thinking about the news on the radio or how light the traffic was that Saturday. She was thinking about the same thing she had been thinking about for quite some time.

Her nephew Tommy.

He was a puzzle, and that scared her in ways she didn’t really want to think about. She had tried to hurt him, viciously and truly without cause, and he had turned it around and made her see that her own hatred of all things male had almost caused her to be as evil as she had always known men to be.

Phyllis had assumed Tommy was “just another man,” and tried to punish him for ... for the sins of others. But the boy turned the whole plan to humiliate him on its head, and showed her a love and compassion she still had trouble believing could come from anything with a Y chromosome.

Could she have been wrong all these years? She had started to think that everything she thought she knew might not be true, and it shook her to the core and left her wondering if she really knew anything at all.

Still, she did have good reason to hate, once, and pieces of the cause still haunted her. Tommy’s presence brought back shadows of things that were, and it was hard for her, having a man in the house. She still shivered a bit when he walked into the kitchen, even if all he did was smile and say good morning, or sit down in the living room and ask about her day. It wasn’t hatred, not with Tommy, not anymore. But there was fear, yes, just as irrational as the hatred she once felt for the boy, and Phyllis would curse herself that she still stiffened up whenever he came close enough to touch her.

Still, that story he told her about that boy Keller and his friends, and how he fought them in an alley to protect that girl? Why fight so well unless he liked it? Did he have a violent streak, like ... like the ones who hurt her, long ago?

She was supposed to meet Tommy in the park near the playground, to pick him up so they could grab some dinner and maybe see a movie.

‘Although what could the two of us possibly watch together that both of us would like?’ She shook her head at the thought, then she wondered why. After all, she still barely knew him, even after several weeks. Of course, after meeting him, Phyllis wondered if she even knew herself anymore.

As she pulled the car over to the curb, she saw Tommy sitting on a bench facing the playground full of kids. He was leaning forward, almost like a lifeguard at a beach, and she watched his head move back and forth.

‘What is he up to?’ she wondered as she got out of the car, locked it, and started moving towards him across the park. ‘This is an odd way for a sixteen-year-old boy to spend a summer afternoon. Isn’t it?’

As Phyllis grew closer to the playground, she saw a small blond boy watching a younger dark-haired girl playing with her doll by the sandbox. She was pretending to take care of it, rocking it and singing to it, and as she looked up at the boy with a smile, he suddenly lurched forward and pushed her back into the sand. She fell hard, her skirt flipping up and her doll flying off into the air. The tears started almost at once, and the boy laughed, turned, and started to run.

Tommy’s aunt felt a rush of anger.

‘Stupid boy! So cruel, even so young!’ Phyllis felt her hatred swell, and she started moving forward to teach the boy a lesson in what it really meant to hurt someone.

Then Tommy spoke, raising his voice just a little.

“Hey. Kid. Hold up.”

The boy stopped running and looked back. Phyllis stopped, too, just outside of Tommy’s line of sight.

“Who, me?” The boy said.

Tommy nodded. “Yeah, you. Come here a minute.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I asked you to.”

The boy squinted and frowned. “No, you told me to.”

Tommy grinned. “Yeah, I guess I did. Okay. Would you please come here a minute?”

“Why?”

The older boy looked at him. “What’s your name?”

“Kevin.”

“Because I want to ask you something, Kevin, and it’s easier to talk if you’re over here instead of over there.” The boy hesitated, and Tommy shook his head. “What, you think I’m gonna beat you up or something?”

He nodded.

Tommy laughed. “Dude, you’re like six years old! I’m ten years older than you. And yeah, if I was a jerk, I could squash you like a bug. But I’m not a jerk. I’m just me.” He held out a hand. “Tommy Browder.” The boy looked at the hand, but stayed where he was. Tommy let it fall.

“Besides, I don’t even know you, Kev. So why would I want to hurt you?”

Kevin took a few steps closer. “If you don’t want to beat me up ... what do you want?”

“I just want to talk, that’s all.”

“About what?”

“What you did to that girl just now.”

The boy squinted at him. “She your sister?”

“No, I don’t know her. Neither did you. But you pushed her anyway.” The boy considered this for a moment, and turned to go. Tommy sighed. “Come on, man. I just want to know why you did it, that’s all.”

He turned and walked back towards Tommy, stopping a short distance away.

“I pushed her ‘cause she’s a girl.”

“So?”

Kevin fidgeted for a moment. “What?”

“So why is that a problem?”

“’Cause she’s a GIRL.”

“So’re half the people on the planet, Kev. You gonna go around pushing them all?”

That stumped him for a while, but then he gave Tommy a puzzled look and shook his head.

“Good to know.” The older boy smiled, gave Kevin another second or two, then spoke again. “So why did you push her?”

Kevin scrunched up his face and said, very slowly, “Because ... she’s ... a ... girl.”

“And how does that make it okay to push her and make her cry?”

“Huh?”

“Not a hard question, Kevin. Why is it okay to push a girl and make her cry?”

“’Cause she’s different.”

“How?”

He tilted his head and thought for a minute. “She likes different stuff than me. Girl stuff, clothes and babies and ponies and junk.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because ... she’s ... a ... girl.”

Tommy sighed. “So? Maybe she likes boy stuff, too. You don’t know. You never asked.” They looked at each other. “Anyway, why should that make you push her?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, why should you care what she likes or doesn’t like?”

Kevin stood there staring at him, confused. Tommy sighed again.

“Okay, turn around. Is that your brother over there?”

“Yeah.”

“He looks like you. Does he like the same things you do?”

“Sometimes. I hate broccoli, and he likes it. And he likes shows about animals, and I don’t.”

“So. You gonna go push him?”

Kevin shook his head. Tommy nodded. “But he likes different things than you, right?”

The boy thought a bit. “Yeah,” he said, a little slowly.

“So why not go push him? Make him cry?”

“Are you telling me to?” Kevin pushed his jaw out and narrowed his eyes. “’Cause I won’t.”

“Nope. Not telling you to do anything. I’m just asking you to think about it. Look, you pushed a girl you didn’t know because you thought she liked different things than you. But you know your brother likes different things than you, and you still won’t push him and make him cry. Does that make sense to you?”

After a minute, Kevin shook his head again.

“So maybe why you pushed her wasn’t because she likes different things.” Tommy scrunched up his face the way Kevin had a minute before and said, “Maybe it’s ... ‘cause ... ‘she’s ... a ...girl.”

Kevin shook his head. “That’s stupid. Why would I do that?”

“I dunno, man. You’re the one who did it. But girls are different, aren’t they?”

The other boy looked down. After a few seconds, he nodded.

“They scare you a little, too, don’t they? Because they’re not like you.”

Kevin looked up and his face turned angry. “I'm not scared of girls!”

Tommy shrugged. “Well, I am, sometimes.”

“You are?” Kevin looked stunned. “Why?”

“Because they're different. Sometimes I don't know what they're thinking, or how they feel, and I don't want to say or do something stupid that’ll make 'em mad at me.”

“Why?”

“Because I like 'em.”

Kevin scrunched up his face. “WHY?”

Tommy grinned. “Because they're different.”

The six-year-old froze. “You like 'em because they're different?”

“Yeah, I do.” Tommy thought for a moment. “Okay, you saw Star Wars, right?”

“Duh.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “Everybody saw Star Wars.”

“Did you like it?” The younger boy nodded.

“There were a lot of aliens in those movies, right?” Kevin nodded again and smiled. Tommy smiled back. “Tell me something. Do you think it would have been as good if everybody in it was human? No jawas or sandpeople? And Chewbacca was just some bald guy who looked like your uncle, instead of being a Wookie?”

Kevin shook his head. “No! That would really suck.”

Tommy looked left and right, then looked back at Kevin. “I’m gonna let you in on a secret, Kev. Girls are people, but there also sorta like aliens ‘cause we don’t always think the same. It makes things interesting, like in the movie. But the thing is, they're friendly aliens. They're different, but they're nice.”

“Nice? Girls?”

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “That’s why I like ‘em.”

The younger boy looked skeptical, and Tommy thought for a minute. “Kev, do you like your Mom?”

Kevin smiled. “Yeah. She bakes cookies and makes pizza for dinner sometimes, and lets us stay up past bedtime if we're really good. She tucks us in and takes care of us when we're sick. She … she loves us. A lot.”

Tommy leaned forward. “Kev, your Mom's a girl, too. Only she's grown-up, so she's a woman.”

Kevin rolled his eyes again. “I knew that, Tommy. I'm not dumb.”

“Never said you were.” The six-year-old nodded. “But you know your Mom is a girl, and she's not scary. She's nice, and she loves you, right?”

Another nod.

“But you still pushed that little girl down and made her cry? Just because she was a girl?”

The younger boy froze, stunned.

Tommy let him think hard for a minute, then said gently, “How would you feel if someone did that to your Mom, man?”

Kevin looked down, and his voice became very small. “I'd be sad,” he replied. “And mad. I'd be real mad.”

“Who are you mad at now, Kevin?”

“Me. I'm stupid.”

Tommy shook his head. “No, you're not. You just didn't think first. You pushed that girl because you were scared of her, 'cause you thought girls were different and scary. But if you stopped and thought about it for a minute, like you did just now, you woulda figured out that you like girls, too, just like you like your mom, because they're different. Not scary, just different. And sometimes nice, like your mom. And you never woulda done what you did. See?”

Kevin wouldn't look up. “No, I'm dumb.”

“You're not dumb, Kev.” The boy shook his head, and Tommy sighed. “Look, you figured it out yourself just now, because you took a few minutes to think. All you have to do now is remember to think first the next time you want to do something stupid, 'kay? Then you'll know if what you want to do is the right thing to do, and you'll do what's right. Right?”

After a minute, the six-year-old looked up and nodded, his face red. Tommy smiled.

“So, you pushed her down and made her cry. Think about it. What's the right thing to do now?”

“Say I'm sorry?”

Tommy shrugged and stood up. “Sounds good to me. She's over there with her Mom. Go make her feel better, man. Might make you feel better, too.”

Kevin gave him a look. “You think?”

The older boy grinned. “All the time, Kev. All the time.”

The boy turned around and ran across the playground, and Tommy watched him go. He ran over to the sandbox and picked up the doll, then walked over to her and held it out. Tommy saw his lips move, and a few seconds later, the little girl took the doll and then wrapped Kevin in a big hug that the boy endured with a sheepish smile. Finally, the girl ran back to the sandbox, her hurt all but forgotten.

Kevin turned back to Tommy, smiled and waved, and ran over to where his brother was climbing on the jungle gym.

The little girl’s mother was too shocked to speak, but she looked over at Tommy and wondered what the teenager had said to make the boy apologize. Tommy smiled and waved, and she raised her fingers in a small, tentative wave of her own.

Phyllis took a step forward, still working on what she’d seen.

“That was ... interesting,” she said, and Tommy’s head turned at the sound of her voice.

“Hey, Aunt Phyllis!” The teen threw her a smile before looking back at Kevin. “No, I was just ... payin’ it forward, I guess.”

“Paying it forward?”

“Yeah, sort of,” he replied, a little embarrassed. “When I was little, around Kevin’s age, my Dad taught me to think first before I did something, He wanted me to learn to figure out what the right thing to do was and then do it, not just go with the first thing that made me feel good.”

Almost to himself, he added, “I think that’s why Keller is such a jerk. He never learned to think about what he does. When he was just a kid, he hurt someone for fun and liked it. So that’s what he does. That’s who he is, now. And probably who he’ll always be.”

Tommy went quiet for a bit. When he spoke again, he sounded sad. “Every time I mix it up with Keller -- every time I stop him from hurtin’ somebody -- I think back to what Dad taught me. And I wonder, if someone taught Keller to think when he was Kevin’s age, maybe he wouldn’t be the way he is. And maybe I wouldn’t have to spend so much of my time gettin’ in his way, or thinking about who he’s hurtin’ when I’m not there to stop him.”

His eyes drifted back to the playground. “So I come to places like this looking for kids like Kevin, so I can pass on what my Dad taught me, and teach ‘em to think first. That way, they can choose the kind of people they want to be, before it’s too late. Maybe someday, somebody else down the line won’t have to keep worrying about who Kevin is hurtin’ today, once Keller’s just a bad memory.”

They stood and watched the playground for a time.

“You don’t have to protect the world from the Kellers, you know,” Phyllis said, thinking back to her own ghosts. “There are so many like him out there, after all. It’s a big job.”

“If I don’t, who will?” Tommy thought for a moment and shook his head. “No, I stepped up way back in the fourth grade and kicked his butt when he needed it, ‘cause that’s what I knew was right. Now I guess I’m stuck with him.”

After a few seconds, he turned to his aunt. “Of course, on the bright side, he’s also stuck with me. So like the Jamaicans say, ‘it’s all good.’”

He grinned and she found herself smiling back. They turned together and started walking back to the car.

“I’m thinking you’ve met your share of Kellers, too.” Tommy spoke softly, keeping his tone conversational. Phyllis froze for a second, and the teenager did his best to ignore it as they both continued on. “And I’m thinking they can do a lot worse than beat on you, when you’re a woman. That’s why you did what you did when I came to stay, I guess. That’s why you’re still a little afraid of me. I can see it in your eyes sometimes.”

They reached the street, and he stopped on the passenger side.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Tommy said, turning around, his head lowered. “And you don’t have to tell me what happened, not if you don’t want to. Not my business. And it’s history, away, even if you can’t let it go yet. So maybe I shouldn’t even bring it up.”

He looked up, and she could see the determination in his eyes. “But I just want you to know ... no matter what ... that the past really is history. You’re safe now. You got me. I’m here, and I got your back. And nobody’s gonna hurt you again, not if I can help it. Okay?”

For a moment, it was quiet. Phyllis looked at him for a long time, but Tommy couldn’t read the expression on her face. It almost looked like she was torn, trying to decide ... something. He saw the beginnings of tears, and wondered if he’d gone too far.

Then she reached up and touched his face, gently and without hesitation. It was his turn to freeze, and when Phyllis saw that, she smiled and let her hand drop.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and his eyes widened. “That means a lot.”

Tommy looked away, suddenly embarrassed.

“Yeah, well, the way I see it, I’m already worrying about everybody in town younger than Keller,” he said to her reflection in the car window, then turned back to her with that grin she’d come to know so well since he came to visit. “Might as well add my aunt to the list, especially since she’s buying me dinner. Pizza at the Fountains?”

She laughed and shook her head, and the moment was broken. “That’s the third time this week.”

“But it’s the first at the Fountains, and they got the best pizza in town,” he said, popping the car door and climbing inside. “That’s what Tony DeFranco says. One of his sisters owns the place.”

Phyllis looked down at the boy and smiled. “Okay, The Fountains it is.”

“Great!” he replied, the grin becoming a smile. She shut his door and walked around to the driver’s side. When she had gotten in and buckled, Tommy spoke again.

“Just don’t let her know who I am, okay? She finds out I’m the one who saved Josie, she’ll go bankrupt trying to feed me for free ... forever.”

“I may go bankrupt trying to feed you for the summer.” Phyllis turned the key and started the car. “But it’s okay, your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thanks!”

She signaled and pulled away from the curb.

“No problem,” she replied with a small smile, looking away so Tommy couldn’t see. “I guess, in a way ... I've got your back, too.”

She felt him turn to look at her, and then look away.

“Good to know,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

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“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” -- Frederick Douglass

© 2009. Posted by the author.