What Happened On The Playground

The chairs in the principle's office are too small.

My mom says that I'm not fat, I just have big bones. But she's not big boned, and I remember how my dad used to look and I know HE wasn't big boned either. . I know the truth, because the kids shout it on the schoolyard. They say

FATASS
FATASS

FATASS

and I know that they are right, I can't wear the clothes that all the other kids wear because I'm too big; I have to go with my mom to the adult clothes section and buy from the adult mediums. My mom glares at the other people that stare, the people to whom these clothes really belong to; but I know that if they played on the same playground as me then they'd join in the chorus of

FATASS

too.

The principle had called my mom, and my step dad, and I had cried. I didn't want to get spanked, it hurt a lot. My mom always used a rolled up news paper, and I felt like a dog that crapped on the rug; or ate a pair of slippers. I was in trouble now, I know because the principle didn't yell at me like he did all the other times. He just sat me down in this stupid chair

They should be more considerate for my Benny's weight, you know. He's big boned you know. That's something my mom would say.

And told me that

“Benjamin, what you did is very serious. You really hurt little John Carridine. He's not going to be well for a long time.”

And I said I was sorry, but he shouldn't have brought a lighter to school. He knew how much I hated lighters.

When I was in the first grade, my dad was still alive.

He was always going to marches and rallies and I used to think he was a soldier. I remember asking my mom once; she said no he wasn't. Then she started to cry.

I remember my dad was always a nice guy, he brought me home buttons. Lots of buttons, that I could put on my shirts

I wasn't a FATTASS then, I wore normal kid clothes.

And I did, I wore them everyday. Stuff I couldn't understand, like

Legalize, Don't Criminalize

Pro-choice!

Chairman Mao for president!

SCREW THE CHURCH!

And I didn't really get them; like how you could be a professional choice maker (and how you could be excited about it, sounded boring) and why someone would want to screw a church.

But my dad, one day my mom said he was going to be on T.V.! And I got all excited, and I told all my friends

I had friends back then too

And my mom and I sat in front of the T.V. I was excited, and smiling, but she looked worried. She looks like that all the time now, but she used to smile A LOT and it used to make me HAPPY.

And then my dad was there! He was behind a box with a microphone and he was shouting very angrily and pounding his fist on the box

It reminded me of this black and white video we watched in history about some mean man with a stubby little mustache who took away all the jewels or something

And then there were shouts from the crowd because my dad was pouring something on himself from a tin can, and people were trying to get to him. But there were other people around him, and they were bigger than the people trying to get to my dad and they stopped the people trying to get to my dad. And then my dad reached in his pocket

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO my mom was screaming and she was crying but I didn't know why, he was just all wet

and he pulled out a lighter and he said something like

IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT!

And people were yelling at him, they sounded like my mom sounded like when I climbed up too high on a tree and she thought I was going to fall, but I said I'd be alright. And they were yelling at him and he was holding the lighter and screaming at the crowd. And there were more people trying to get to him, but there were bigger men around him not letting them through. And my dad was being pushed by the men guarding him, and he was holding on to the lighter and his hand was trembling. And then, his hand jerked and all of a sudden the lighter was on. And my dad looked at it, his mouth open and his eyes wide; because I don't think he really wanted to do that.

And then WHOOSH, he was on fire. And he was screaming all of a sudden and his skin was crackling and his eyes popped like little grapes and I was crying and so was my mom. We were screaming at the television, telling him to stop. And everyone around him was screaming too, and there was a guy in the audience that blew chunks all over the place and it made me want to throw up but I was too busy crying. And there was some other guy that came up, that the big guys let through this time, he had a red can in his hand and I think he was going to help my dad.

But it was too late, because then he fell on the ground and he died right before the television screen changed to something else.

My poor dad.

So when that fart-sniff John Carridine tried to show me his lighter by the swings I told him I didn't want to see it. And he said that I was just a STUPID WHINY FATASS BABY and that I didn't know how to have any fun and then he started to flick it. It looked too big in his hand, it was one of those cheap plastic ones but it still was a lighter and it was the same color my dad had when he put himself on fire. And he was playing with it, and I said (I tried to stay calm, but I think my voice ended up trembling anyway) I said

“Put that away.”

And he snickered. “Oh yeah? What are you going to do FATASS?”

And I said, “Put it away or else.”

But then he just snickered and turned away from me, towards the swings. There were some other kids around him, and he showed it off to them; he was center stage, the human flamethrower, ready to dazzle the circus crowd. But he didn't know that fire isn't GOOD it's BAD because BAD THINGS happen when you PLAY with fire. And I knew he had to stop, I knew he had to never get the chance to play with the fire because what happens when the rest of the kids in the playground see and want to do it too? Then what happens when they are on fire and they die and it makes other people sad? I know, it hurts really bad when that happens. It's not good at all.

And so, I think I tackled Johnny; but it's all in fast forward in my head. I think we wrestled on the ground and I think that all around me I heard

CRYBABY
WIMP

STUPID

SPOILED SPORT

FATASS
FATASS

FATASS

and then, I was trying to not get angry. I was trying to stay calm, because I didn't want to hurt Johnny (sometimes our mothers made us get together and play with his lego's, and he always had the best legos), I just wanted to make him stop. He was going to set himself on fire if I didn't. But then he did something bad, and this is where everything stops being fast forward in my mind.

He put the lighter right up to my face when I was on top of him, and flicked it on. The thing shot out a flame, right on to my nose and I could smell the lighter fluid and the really hot sensation of pain inside my nostrils.

And all of a sudden, I saw my dad and he was on fire. He was on fire and screaming. And I just kept hearing his scream over and over again. It was so horrible, I just wanted to reach inside my hears and pull out my brain with both hands, because that's where I knew it was echoing from. And Johnny, that little fart face Johnny, he was LAUGHING. He was LAUGHING at me, at my hurt nose, at my sadness, AT MY FATHER. He was laughing, and the lighter was off, but I could still feel the hot sensation; only it was all over my body now, and I knew that something bad was going to happen.

Then, I was up; and so was Johnny, because I was dragging him. And Johnny wasn't smiling anymore, he was telling me to let go

FATASS

let go. But I had a good grip on him, and when Johnny tried to bite my hand I slugged him in the mouth and smiled to myself as Johnny's head rocked back. I was a bigger kid than Johnny, I could eat three hamburgers while he could eat just one, and I think he knew that because he started to cry. He kept crying, and I dragged him over to the swing set. He was starting to scream now, and it felt like I was watching through someone else's eyes as I grabbed Johnny by the back of the head; getting a good hold on his hair. His mouth was open and his nose was starting to run and tears were coming out of his eyes and I slammed his stupid fart-sniff face right into the metal bar of the swing set. His mouth wrapped around the bar, and there was a sound like stepping on a bag of glass. Blood shot down the bar, and when I drew his head back up with my hands I saw there were a couple teeth stuck to the bar. Johnny screamed and it sounded like a pig that I watched getting it's skull crushed by my grandpa's boot at his farm, it was a runt he had told me. Part of me wanted to throw up, but that part was distant and foreign, it was just watching the other part of me bash Johnny. I did it again, and this time I bashed his forehead into the bar. There was a muffled crack, and Johnny stopped screaming. His head started to bleed and his eyes didn't look right and that was when the teachers picked me up and now I'm here.

In the principle's office.

And I know what I did was wrong, and I AM sort of sorry, but I told him to stop.

The door opened and my mom came in, and she was crying really bad. And then I started to cry, because I knew now that I was in a lot of trouble because my mom NEVER cried because of me, only because of my dad and I couldn't help it but I was BAWLING.

My step dad was in the doorway, and he looked very sad. He was a big, happy man that always bought me things (he never brought me buttons though), and his face was always red and glowing with a smile. But now he was pale and not smiling, and that made me cry even more.

My mom stopped crying and kneeled down by me and asked me how I was.

I told her I was feeling really not alright, and I started blubbering again.

Then she looked down at the ground and I thought maybe she fell asleep because she wasn't saying anything for what seemed like a long time, but then she looked back at me and her eyes were red and puffy. And she said

“They are going to have to take you away, Ben.”

She never called me Ben, she always called me Benny or Benjamin if I was in TROUBLE but never BEN, never ever BEN.

“Why?” I asked.

“Johnny...” she started, but then started to cry again.

“Johnny what mom?”
“Johnny is not going to get better, he's asleep and he's not going to wake up.”

I looked at her, I didn't believe it. You couldn't not wake up, if you were asleep.

“Did I do that mom?”

She didn't answer me, and I knew I did. I knew it, and I started to cry again.

Then the men came in the room and they had a police officer and my principle, and they were wearing nurses outfits only they were GUYS and they said I had to go with them.

I stood up, and thought about running; but it was no use. I went with them in a big truck with no back windows and I was barely hearing them tell me about

SUPERVISED CARE

and

CONSTANT SURVEILENCE

and

A PYSCHIATRIST
and I could barely hear them. All I could think about as we drove away from my school was how much I wish my dad was here.