Please note there is another revision to the first chapter posted, not much changed except correcting the wandering tense. I did make a few significant changes to this one, though

And so, I soon find myself sitting in the grass near the hopscotch grid with the girls at West Elementary School in Mountain Home, Idaho. I am still in a daze from all of this, but at least there is strength in numbers, Numbskull Ned and his gang of knock-kneed nogoodniks are not about to cause me trouble with so many witnesses. All I have to worry about now is Tiffany and her prison princesses, it has been my painful discovery that her words hurt far worse than Ned’s noogies. I must admit, my mouth does get me in trouble, but all I can say is they started it first, so nyah, nyah, nyah!

“Why hopscotch?” I ask.

“It is the only place that the bullies won’t want to take away from us. Besides, it is Molly’s favorite,” says Gwen. Gwen is from Taiwan, a little overweight, and has very wealthy parents. She never has an attitude about it, though, in fact there are a couple of kids that she spends her money on to buy them lunch each day.

After a bit, when I had finished my turn at hopscotch, Deanna asks me, “Jackson, why did Tiffany say you were now a member of our club? Has she just found someone new to torment, or?????” as she lets the sentence hang.

Before I could crawl away, Molly, who was the red-head that was behind me at that table earlier, grabs my ankles and says, “Not so fast mister! I think that question is worth an elucidation, it is a very pertinent question.” I end up pulling her several feet since she is very slender, with beautiful emerald green eyes. Molly is one of the class brains, and last year’s winner of the State Spelling Bee. She’s also one of the nicest people in our grade, although I’ve never really had the chance to get to know her well. Gwen and Stephanie I have rarely talked to and I really don’t know much about them. Hanging out with the girls in 6th grade is a sure-fire way to tempt the plug-uglies, but by this time, what else can they do to me? I’ll be glad to get to know Deanna’s friends.

“Well, I have PE last period, and last Friday we were playing tag and my shirt got pulled nearly off of me. Needle-nose Ned came over and started to tease me…” and I start to cry.

It’s a strange experience to all of a sudden be surrounded in a group hug by a bunch of girls, let me tell you! I tried to pretend it bothered me, but that lasted all of two seconds.

Once I’ve pulled myself together I explain, “Since I’ve started to gain weight, I’ve started to develop a bit of a flabby chest and…” I sniffle and continue, “Ned said I had tits!!! I guess it took until today for that to get around the school and for Terrible Tiffany to find out.” I can’t help it, I swear, those names just come out of nowhere! When I saw Ned shove Deanna once, I tried to get in the way, and called him Nowhere Man Ned. He’s had it out for me ever since.

“Dea-” I cut myself off and start over, “Deanna, I’m sorry I haven’t been spending much time with you here…”

“Don’t you dare! I’m not about to let you apologize for that, we get plenty of time together out of school. None of this is your fault!” she interrupts. “Now say it with me – ‘None of this is my fault’ - come on now.”

“None of this is my fault,” I repeat along with her. “But…”

“Nope! Not going there Jackie! Whoops, sorry about that!”

“Watch it Deanna, I know a name you don’t want me to use!”

“What, Dean? They already know you call me that, in fact my nickname in our club is ‘The Dean’,” she replies. “Molly is the secretary, Heather is the treasurer…”

“You can have that job now Jackie, I’m not as good at math as you are,” interrupts Heather, a bit too loudly.

“Then you are now vice-president Heather, we have been needing someone to be that officially. The school wasn’t happy we didn’t have one. And Heather, careful with the name!” I think she would have had more to say, but the bell rang for the end of lunch. My next class is English, and the only club member that will be there with me is Molly.

As I start to head to class, I am ambushed with another group hug – I think I could get to like this, maybe. “IBTC, together, we are stronger than bullies!” they all chant before heading off to go to classes.

“By the way, most of the school personnel only know our club by the initials, and if anyone ever asks what they stand for, tell them it means ‘Intermediate Budokon Training Club’, oh, and by the way, we are meeting tonight with my dad for instructions.” says Stephanie as she skips away. “And you are required to be there!”

“Molly? What’s Budokon?” I ask as we head to English.

“Budokon is a martial arts form that combines Yoga with combat techniques from multiple styles including Japanese Karate-Do, Korean Taekwondo and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. It focuses more on defensive postures than offensive. We started taking it from her dad after Tiffany started bothering us. Stephanie is already a Purple belt, all the rest of us are white belts, although Deanna is testing for Red next week.” Both Deanna and Stephanie are very athletic.

“Molly, I’m more confused now, but let’s drop it for now, my brain feels like it is a County Fair funnel cake. Just one question, why does Stephanie’s Dad teach that?”

“He is an Air Force Special Warfare, Para-rescue member and he has been training in martial arts since he was three. He started Steph on it when she was 7,” she says as we arrive to class.

After English was Math with Deanna and Gwen, which I always enjoy, in spite of Ned’s Problematic Presence. I’m not going to bore you with my academic day, I’m sure just about everyone reading this went to 6th grade. PE… Well….

Coach Murowski catches me at the door, “Jackson Phillips Brown, come with me!”

Please note, I've posted a revision to the earlier chapter, with significant changes, and there are significant changes in this one, too.

“Now Jackson, I’m aware of what happened with Ned, and all I can say is, don’t let it bother you, son. Be a tough guy, don’t let him get to you. Now, I’m sure you are a bit upset over that, and I’m willing to help you work off some of that weight. Just let me know if I can help. Now, we’re playing dodge ball today, get out there and show them what you got!” says Coach.

Gee, all I can think is ‘real helpful Coach, about as helpful as a rubber crutch’. I wish we would get a real PE teacher, not an ex-Marine Coach who was fired from the high school for losing every game two seasons straight. And I'm really tired of hearing him say "now" in just about every other sentence!

In case you’ve never played, here is Dodgeball in a nutshell. Two groups of players line up facing each other, and you throw hard rubber balls at each other. If you hit someone and they don’t catch the ball, they are out. Last team with someone not out wins. I’m doomed. There is talk about banning Dodgeball, but as of February, 1982, it hasn’t happened yet. I wonder if I can start an emergency petition and save myself?

As soon as we get lined up, Ned points at me, and says “Hey, don’t you belong in girl’s PE? They don’t play dodgeball in girl’s PE.” Just about everyone laughs at that, with Coach laughing the hardest.

“Noodle-arm Ned, do your worst!” I foolishly reply, trying to get him to shut up, and then I desperately try to hide behind someone else. Ned, I’m glad to say, has terrible aim since his grenade launcher arm would probably take off my head, and misses everyone. I’m soon ducking balls, practically spinning in place to avoid them since two of Ned’s Nasty Nephews are on my team and they are not even trying to hit the other team. I’m glad there are only 4 balls to use, we used to have 6!

You know what’s coming, I’m sure, do you really need to hear the gory details? You do? But… But… But…, oh all right, if you must.

George, Ned’s Nasty Nephew #1 (which isn't really his name, he just looks like Gorgeous George, you know, the wrestler?) is chasing me around while I’m ducking the other team’s throws. I get cornered against the wall, and - I’m actually not exaggerating this time - I’m running so hard to avoid them that, as they hit me, I run into the wall nose first and knock myself out.

I wake up in the nurse’s office, and find myself with several girls clustered around me. One says, “Hey Jackie, what happened to you?” Another one chimes in, “Do you need me to get you a new blouse, I’m afraid you got blood on this one, and girl, your hair is a mess…” I jump up screaming,

“What do you mean I got blood all over my blouse? Oh god, I need some cold water and…” I scream again...

I get up screaming (sort of), “I’mb dot bwearing a bwouse….” Trailing off I now awkwardly whisper through my bloody nose, “Id’s called a chirt.” Thankfully, no one is in here to hear me, as the nurse comes back in carrying some towels.

“I heard you yell, are you alright?” asks Nurse Lisa. “Did I hear you say something about turning blue? Oh my, Jackson, you are bleeding again, try and be still and quiet, I've got some cotton for your nose.”

“Oh gay.”

“Now hold still Jackson, I need to clean you up some, you’ve got blood all in your hair, don't worry, I’ve called your Mom to come get you, there is no way I’m letting you walk home like this, you know you have some really nice hair, so long and blond.” If she would stop talking so fast, maybe I could understand her? When does she breathe? Her Italian accent doesn't help, either.

She pulls me over to the sink, sits me down and starts washing my hair, she's woman-handling me like I'm a goat trying to escape and I'm squirming like an eel. Ewww, she’s using that medicated anti-bacterial soap meant for cleaning out wounds, you know, the red stuff. You don’t? You really don’t want to know what this is like, I promise, and you can’t begin to believe how it stinks, I swear it must be made with fermented yak innards, rubbing alcohol, stewed prunes and horse manure. Can you die from a smell? Stay tuned, campers, you just might find out!

The door to the nurse's office opens, but I can’t see who is there for the soap, so I ask hopefully, “Mom?”

“No Jackson, it is Principal Williams. I heard you had a little accident? I was able to find a shirt for you from the lost and found, it was the only one that I think would fit you, as tiny as you are.”

Thank God, she is one of the only two people in this school who know about my past health problems, and why I am shorter and, in spite of my weight gain, still skinnier than any of the fourth graders, much less the kids my age. Since you don’t know, I should explain, I was born with a blood disease that didn’t get caught until I was nearly 6, and it severely stunted my growth. I’m cured now, but they don’t know if I’m ever going to catch up to the other kids my age.

“I’ll take over Miss Cambria, Jackson is a child I’ve gotten to know quite well over the years. I think he would be more comfortable with me, he really isn’t very comfortable with adults he doesn’t know, that's probably why he is squirming so. I have the Vice-principal ready to see the kids out, and he could use your help with parents,” she says as she rinses out my hair.

Just as the nurse left, I hear an even more welcome voice, “Principal Williams, do you know if Jackson came into the office or something? I was waiting to walk home with him, and…”

“Yes, Deanna, he’s right here getting his hair washed. He is okay, but he got hurt playing Dodgeb….”

“Jackson!!!!” Deanna shrills. “What happened? Are you dizzy, can I do anything to help, are you having any trouble breathing, where’s the nurse? He should have his asthma medicine, in case he isn’t breathing well…”

“Deannda, I’mb oh gay, jutht a bloody dose dow,” I strangle out.

“Principal Williams, he can’t walk home like this, but I can carry him home again…”

“What do you mean, carry him home again, Deanna?" the Principal interrupts. "I don’t think any student has ever been carried home from this school by another student, and I know it hasn’t happened since I started here.”

“Well, he got hit in the head last summer when a tetherball pole cemented into a tire got bent over, and when it popped back up, it hit him and cut him above his eye. I carried him to my house so my mom could get him some help,” explains Deanna.

“Not to worry Deanna, his mom is on the way.”

So now, I’ve got cotton stuffed up my nose, I’m soaking wet and my head feels like Magic Johnson has been dribbling it back and forth on the basketball court a few dozen times - plus I smell like the what I would imagine the inside of his shoes would smell like after a game. It can’t get any worse!

“Honey, I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here any quicker, is my Schätze ok? Come to mommy, I’ll fix you some soup when we get home. Principal Williams, I absolutely forbid you to have Jackson play any more of that awful game, Dodgeball should be banned!” Oh god, my mother is here, and she is in full on mom mode. “Jackson, do you have breathing trouble, is your asthma acting up? I’m going to take you to the hospital, they might have broken your nose, or bones in your face, or who knows what. In the morning, I'm coming back and give that Coach a piece of my mind, I swear that man ist… Ganz Verückt! Ich werde seinen kopf haben!” Help me please, God, she’s speaking German again to the Principal.

“Mom, pblease shtop! Du sprichst weider Deutsch!” I yell. “I’mb ogay! Djust dake me home.”

“Here Jackson, I’ve got a shirt for you, take that wet one off!” says Principal Williams.

Of course, mom had to do it for me in spite of me trying to do it myself, and in the process, I’ve now got soap in my eyes from the wet shirt coming off. Hmmm, this new shirt feels weird, the collar is kinda rough, but, you know, I can’t see it!

“Deanna, do you want a ride home?” asked my mom.

“Thank you Mrs. Brown, do you have room for a couple of others? They live in between here and home. Jackson, I think that top is so cute on you!” she giggles.

Top?

“Sure, I’ve got the station wagon, the more the merrier.”

So now I am led outside, I can see a little bit but my eyes still hurt, and the entire club is waiting out there! There must be at least a couple of dozen other kids waiting for a bus that’s running late, and I’m trying to hide my face.

“Jackson!” the girls all yell. “Are you okay?” adds a few of them.

“I’mb ogay,” I mumble as I'm getting hugs. I hear a few of the other kids whispering, not very well, and they are talking about me. I wish I could just crawl into a hole. Deanna, Stephanie and Heather get into the car, Heather sits up front with mom and the other two herd me into the back seat with one on either side of me. As I’m leaving I overhear someone say “Cute top, I wonder where I can get one.” What's a top?

So now, I am led outside and I can see a little bit but my eyes still hurt, and the entire club is waiting out there! There must be at least a couple of dozen other kids waiting for a bus that’s running late, and I’m trying to hide my face.

“Jackson!” the girls all yell. “Are you okay?” adds a few of them.

“I’mb ogay,” I mumble as I'm getting hugs. I hear a few of the other kids whispering, not very well, and they are talking about me. I wish I could just crawl into a hole. Deanna, Stephanie and Heather get into the car, Heather sits up front with mom and the other two herd me into the middle seat, with one on either side of me. As I’m leaving I overhear someone say “Cute top, I wonder where I can get one.” What's a top?

“Seatbelts everyone!” yells my mom, seemingly with nary a care in the world.

“Mom, cgan I bremove the gotton?” I ask, as I remove it.

“Jackson, don’t you dare, you might start bleeding again!” she yells as she turned around. “I should have known it would be out already,” she complains. “It’s ok, I have Kleenex in case it starts bleeding, Deanna, sweetie, please get some out of my purse if it does. Please, dear God, can you explain to me why 11 year old boys are such trouble?”

Of course, this has me trying to slide onto the floor as the girls all crack up, and Heather says “If you take a closer look, Mrs. Brown, we don’t have Jackson here now, we have Jackie,” through her laughter. This puts all the girls in stitches and me into confusion.

“Heather, I’m the same me, Jackie or Jackson. I don’t like using Jackie at school because it is also a girl’s name and I’ll get teased.”

“Mrs. Brown, do you have a mirror?”

“Sure honey, take a look in my purse”

Heather digs into the purse, pulls out my mom’s mirror and says “Jackie, take a look at what you look like right now,” handing me the mirror.
I’m still confused, and wondering why she is handing me the mirror as I take a close look. “I don’t see any change, Heather, except my wet hair is pulled back behind me now with a rubber band.”

“Jackie, Jackie, Jackie, give me back the mirror and try this again,” she says, and pulls the mirror further away from me.

“Aargh!” I scream. “I’m wearing a girl’s shirt, it’s got lace and... and... and... a butterfly! Why am I in a girl’s shirt! Is the Principal crazy? Mom, is Aunt Sue mad at me again? I promised I’d be good in her school. I didn’t make fun of anyone’s clothes.”

“Jackson, it isn’t because of anything you did, Sue’s not mad at you, I would imagine she couldn’t find anything else in your size, you almost fit in your sister’s clothes, and she’s 5!”

“Mooooommmmm!”

I’m sure if I try, I can slip back into the crack in the seat; there is space in the floorboards behind this bench, after all. I wonder, do moms take lessons in how to embarrass their children, or is it just a side-effect of pregnancy? It can’t be just being a parent, Dad doesn’t embarrass me like this!

“Mom, can you just stop, I’m sure they don’t want to hear all about that!” I moan.

“I’m sure Molly would love to hear it, but Mrs. Brown, I think maybe Jackson has had enough, he’s starting to shiver, I think from his wet hair,” says Deanna. “It is cold outside and this car’s heater isn’t working all that well. Besides, we are almost at Heather’s.”

Hey, Deanna, it isn’t my wet hair making me shiver, it’s this shirt, half the school saw me in this!

“On the left, the house with the old truck under the tree, Mrs. Brown,” says Heather.

"I'm just a few houses further down, I'll get out here too," says Molly, as both girls wave goodbye.

Once we got home, Deanna heads up to her trailer and we go inside to ours. We live in a mobile home park about a half a mile from the school, almost close enough to be on the bus route. My parents rent two lots for our mobile home, since for the longest time she was afraid to let me go anywhere and wanted some room for me to play. If you’ve never lived in a mobile home, the lots don’t have a whole lot of room left over once a home is on it, and we have an expanded living room. Daddy is very handy and rebuilt a beaten up motor boat, a camper trailer, and also built a workroom and a playhouse for us. Mom works as a waitress at DI Stoney’s. They met while Dad was stationed in Germany, from there they went to Thailand, where I was born. Dad is kinda small, for a guy, and Mom is even shorter. He’s from Virginia, with black hair and blue eyes, skinny but strong. Mom is a full blood German, in fact she spoke little English when they got married. I’ve learned some German, I have to if I’m going to survive mom, when she gets upset she forgets to use English. She’s got blue eyes, too, but I have no idea what color her hair actually is since she dyes it blonde – I think it is a light brown. I’ve got really pale blonde hair, it was almost white when I was born, blue eyes and, much to my dismay, lots of freckles. Mom says they are angel kisses, or that I swallowed a dollar and broke out in pennies. I look more like her than Dad, I’m told.

I’m off to my room to get changed and do my homework, and for some reason mom has told me to hang up the shirt in my closet – which I do, but with my eyes closed. I swear, I don’t understand her sometimes, it’s like she was born on Mars instead of in Germany. I guess maybe she wants me to take the shirt back tomorrow? Before I can start, though, mom comes in and blows my hair dry, which does help me feel warm. After I finish my homework, I head to Deanna’s. My home away from home.

I’ve been friends with Deanna since Thailand, so I just go ahead in, saying, “Honey, I’m home,” in a very bad Cuban accent. “Luuucy, you got some ‘splaining to doooo.” We both love the old Lucy re-runs.

“Oh, Ricky! Waahhhh!” cries Deanna in a perfect imitation of Lucille Ball, I just wish my Ricky was better.

“Would you two stop?” says her mom. “I’ve got snacks for you both, go wash up.”

After we’ve washed up, we get the snacks and head out to play. Mountain Home is in the Owyhee desert and our mobile home park is near the edge of town, so we can explore that desert all we want. There’s just enough of civilization to ward off the coyotes, at least during the day.
Once out away from the park, I turn to Deanna and ask “Deanna, is a top what I had on? It’s not called a blouse? I thought girl’s shirts were called blouses.”

“Jackie, for you, it’s simple. You wear a shirt and pants or shorts. Boring. I’ve got all kinds of different things to wear, jumpers, capris, camisoles and many more. We call anything we wear as you would a shirt a top.”

Oh god, I was wearing a ‘cute top’, goodbye cruel world.

“Jackie, what are you talking about, goodbye cruel world?”

“I said that out loud?”

“Yeah, you mumbled something and then said ‘goodbye cruel world’, are you ok?”

“Oh, I’m just thinking about what’s going to happen when the rest of the school knows about my ‘cute top’, once the gossip gets around, I’m going to find a hole in the ground and just pull it in over me.”

“Jackson, you’re exaggerating, besides, I bet it gets forgotten before Monday. Come on, let’s go play!” says Deanna.

For some odd reason, there is a ditch around most of the park, that's where the evil tetherball pole is that tried to take my eye. Papa put some wood planks across the ditch, and we cross there now instead of swinging across on the pole like we used to do. We wander around the desert for a bit, talking about nothing in particular, and before long, we come to our spaceship. I don’t know what it really was, but someone abandoned an old, round metal building out in the desert, it’s rusty and has some holes beat in it, but it is our spot. Once inside, we have our snacks and take out some books to read. My favorite time of day, reading with Deanna in the spaceship.

“Jackie, don’t forget we have Budokon training tonight.”

“I’m not sure I want to go to that, you know the only athletic thing I can do is run. You need strength for martial arts.”

“It is far more important to learn the katas and to be quick, and that I know you can do. When we started, Molly wasn’t very strong either and she is doing very well. If nothing else you learn how to avoid getting hurt.”

“Oh, all right,” I moan. “I guess I’ll at least try it the first day.”

Once it starts to get dark, we head home. I’ve got two days of bliss before my life as I know it ends on Monday.