All Over the Place: The Big Fight

From My Teaching Book

By Michael H. Brownstein

The afternoon Big Ronnie almost mortally harmed Little Ronnie I was standing on the corner of 44th and King Dr. with the security guards. One of them said he thought he would walk down to 45th to see if all was well. He was out of screaming range when I heard the loud shouts and yells of students running behind us. They were quickly forming a three-quarter semi-circle blocking the teacher’s parking lot entrance.
    Looks like a fight, I said and jogged the fifty yards or so to where fifty or more children were growing more and more excited. When I reached them, they nodded towards me—every now and then I think they enjoyed how I broke up fights—and they made a path for me straight into the center of the action. Big Ronnie was four to five inches taller than me and easily outweighed me by at least fifty pounds. He was lifting Little Ronnie over his head as if he were a weightlifter warming up with bench presses. Little Ronnie was barely ninety pounds and not quite five feet tall. They were on asphalt next to a concrete curb. Big Ronnie was so angry I knew he was going to body slam Little Ronnie.
    I turned to ask the security guard what we should do, but of course he wasn’t anywhere near the fight. There he was where I had left him with his back towards all of the noise and excitement. I looked at the curb. I looked at the great anger in Big Ronnie’s face. I did the only thing I could think to do.
    I reached for Big Ronnie’s huge underarms and began tickling him.
    Immediately his great anger dissipated into hysterical laughter. I did not stop. I asked him to put Little Ronnie down gently and when he did, I told Little Ronnie to run to the office. But I did not stop tickling.
    Mr. Brownstein, Mr. Brownstein, Big Ronnie pleaded. Uncle. Uncle.
    I said I would not stop until he promised me he would not harm Little Ronnie that day. He could hardly breath. Tears were running down his face. He nodded yes, yes, please. Do I have to walk you home? I asked. He nodded no, no, uncle.
    I walked him to the corner and watched him cross the street.
    The next morning I was on the playground at 8:15 as was my habit and there they were, Big Ronnie and Little Ronnie running down the asphalt passing a basketball back and forth, laughing, laughing, laughing best friends forever.

Copyright © 2022 by Michael H. Brownstein Michael H. Brownstein’s volumes of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else and How Do We Create Love?, were published by Cholla Needles Press in 2018 & 2019, respectively.