I remember the first fight I ever saw. On one side, my friend Zebulon, a young Nubian, his large head sculpted with the contours of an Egyptian pharaoh. On the other, my friend David, a thin, freckled boy with Irish teeth and ragged black hair that resembled a mannequin's unkempt wig. I genuinely liked them both.
Whatever the conflict was, I'll never know. I remember the bright spring day out on the playground. There were rumors buzzing that Zebulon was going to get David, something I didn't believe because they were both nice--to me. At the time, I couldn't comprehend the conflict or how it would play out.
As it turns out, Zebulon was the aggressor, seeking out David on the far end of the playground. For the first time, I saw Zebulon's eyes possessed by angry demons, I saw fear and hate radiating from his face. David did not want to fight, tried to talk his way out of the battle, kept his eyes to the ground. Egged on by the crowd, Zebulon became more and more belligerent. He pushed David down hard, which forced the timid boy to look up directly into the eyes of his opponent as he got to his feet.
That visual contact was the trigger that gave Zebulon a primal green light; he attacked. David never tried to fight back. I was too shocked to say anything, I just watched as Zebulon's uncoordinated bullying left David with a fat lip and further tussled his wig-like hair.
A teacher broke up the fight, hauled both boys away by their thin biceps, and the rest of us were left to recount highlights. One boy claimed he saw David's bottom lip torn off on the pavement, something I looked for in the playground for weeks afterwards. I had imagined it looking like a pink slug, that it might be squirming around.
I don't remember seeing David after that. I remember losing respect for Zebulon, even though he still acted as buddy-buddy with me as he always had. Because I came from a very loving and kind home, it never occurred to me that violence on that scale was nothing new to some kids. I was upset at myself not only because I hadn't done anything to stop it, but also because I feared I would have acted exactly as David had.
By now, I've seen many battles, been in a few myself, but I still don't like them.
