When I was growing up on the North Side of Chicago, I attended a public elementary school. And, as is frequently the case, I and other kids of modest size and strength had to deal with a really big kid who delighted in being a bully. Mike was bigger than everyone else. He’d been expelled from the local parochial school for behavior problems and came to us in seventh or eighth grade. It became quickly apparent that one should never cross him unless one wanted a good beating. In hindsight, I feel sorry for Mike because I’m certain his father, from whom Mike had inherited his large size, beat him at home.
For a long time, Mike reigned supreme. Just about everyone in our class hated him but could do nothing about it. Until one day another boy transferred into our school. I don’t remember his name, but he had large ears and a simian-like face, so we called him “Monkey.”
Monkey was not a large boy; he was skinny and wiry, but he was all muscle. It turned out he was quite tough as well. Monkey took notice of Mike’s behavior and waited.
One day after school Mike tried to bully Monkey. Monkey had none of it. He pushed Mike up against the schoolyard fence and then stood back and slapped Mike’s face, open-handed. Mike looked stunned. He gathered himself and made a fist. Monkey slapped him again, this time much harder. Mike’s cheek turned red. Tears appeared in his eyes.
By this time, a large crowd of kids surrounded the two, eager to see Mike get his comeuppance. “Hit him again, Monkey,” several yelled. Monkey did. Mike broke down and cried. “Here’s how it’s going to be from now on, Mike,” Monkey said. “You’re going to leave all the other kids alone. If I see you messing with any of them, I’m going to beat you but good.”
Mike said, “Uh, OK,” and slinked home. A big cheer erupted from the crowd of children. None of them had any sympathy for Mike, and the rest of his time in that school was a lonely experience.
I hadn’t thought about Monkey and Mike for a long, long time. But now, as the country I love pursues a foreign policy based on fear and intimidation, basically saying to the world, “It’s our way or the highway,” I can’t help but wonder. Is there a Monkey in our future?
And will anyone feel sorry for us if there is?
Todd Bannor
Oak Park