The bully and his entourage summoned the smaller boy from the park, near the woods, onto the playground. His sidekick called out for the other kids to gather around.
“I hear you’re still having trouble with the tough guy on the other side of the creek,” the bully said to the smaller boy, motioning toward the woods at the edge of the park. “I have a deal for you.”
“What deal?” the smaller boy asked.
“I also hear you’re almost out of BBs for your Red Rider BB rifles,” the bully answered. “I’ve given you tons of BBs, but I’ll give you some more if you give me something in return.”
“Something in return?” the smaller boy said. “How ‘bout, give us BBs so we can keep them on their side of the creek before somebody loses an eye!”
“Nobody gets something for nothing,” the bully insisted. “I want something in return.”
“Like what?”
“Your baseball card collection.”
“You want my baseball cards?”
“They’re pretty valuable,” the bully said. “I figure I can get a lot for them.”
The smaller boy said nothing.
“Listen, did you think we were giving you BBs for free? They weren’t a gift! You have to give something in return. We want the baseball cards.”
The smaller boy said nothing.
“He and his gang have got slingshots and rocks! It’s bad enough you’ve only got BB guns, but if you don’t make this deal, they’ll run you out of the park!”
“We won’t let him run us off!”
“Well, you shouldn’t have picked a fight with him in the first place.”
“I didn’t! They started shooting rocks at us with their slingshots!”
“That’s awfully disrespectful,” said the sidekick. “You really think you can shoot your mouth off about who started it, right here in front of everybody?”
“Me?” the smaller boy sputtered. “You’re the one who called them over here!”
“And you haven’t once thanked us for our BBs, not once! No gratitude at all.”
“We thanked you over and over!”
“Not in this conversation, you haven’t.”
“I’ll give you my baseball cards,” the smaller boy said to the bully, “but you’d better not welch on the BBs. If the tough guy and his gang run us out of the park, they’ll take this playground next. We’ll see how you feel about that.”
“Don’t tell us how we’re gonna feel!” the bully shouted, punching the smaller boy in the shoulder. “We’re gonna be just fine!
“Now get on out of here! Get off our playground! And find your own BBs!”
The smaller boy walked away, back toward the park, staring towards the woods on the other side of the creek where the tough guy and his gang lurked.
The other kids disbursed, nervous, uncertain.
“Is he watching?”
The sidekick turned toward the woods on the other side of the park, staring into the distance. He waved his hands over his head a couple of times.
In the distance, the gesture was returned.
The sidekick smiled.
“Oh, yes,” he replied, “he’s watching!”
“We’re so good at this,” the bully grinned, “we should be on TV…”
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