My First School Fight

I don’t remember how it all started or what it was about really or even who won for that matter. I just remember that the gauntlet was thrown, my pride was at stake and the whole school was turning out to see me muster up and defend myself or turn tail and be forever known as a coward. The latter was simply out of the question so I had to muster up. The danger was not so much the fight but how could a God fearing Jehovah’s Witness who went out every Sunday to his neighbors to preach of the benefits of peace be caught in a fist fight. Somehow if I was to do this I couldn’t let Aunt (my Grand Mother) know as I would get a whipping when I get home and worst I could never let my father get even wind of it for I would get an even more terrible whipping. The latter was a tough one as a little ways down the road from where the fight was to take place was the grocery store owned by my aunt (real aunt, Aunt Lila, my father’s sister) and my father regularly stopped there on his visits to Lucky Hill. My fear of my father was tremendous as a kid and it was a close toss up weather to back down from the fight versus running the risk of my father hearing about it. But my pride was at stake and goaded on by my friends I chose to fight and face the consequences

I don’t remember my contender’s name but we agreed or more likely dared each other to show up after school out on the main road just outside of the school premises. This was the established arena for settling through physical combat differences that were too big to ignore or to reconcile through words. Ours must have started in the morning for I remember that by lunch time the whole school was abuzz with the news of the evening entertainment of my ensuing fisticuff. Secretly I was hoping that the whole thing would not happen so I was devastated when by lunchtime friends started asking me about this upcoming fight. I had figured that contender (he was the Headmasters son) would not risk engaging in a fight anywhere near to the school for surely he knew that his father as the Headmaster (principal) of the school he would have to come down on him pretty hard to dispel any show of favoritism. I guess I figured wrong. I remember that by evening the whole school was talking gleefully about this fight. I might have put up a good front but internally I was devastated and would have welcomed any out.

But evening did come and the big school bell signaling the end of the school day did clang not with normal sonorous clang of celebrating ‘school is over!’ but more the daunting clank of a church tower warning of an impending disaster. My stomach did churn and I was sure everyone could see beyond my posturing front to the fear in my face and the trembling in my knees. I think that day I felt that if the earth could have opened up and swallowed me it would have been a good thing. But non such happened and the inevitable moment did arrive. I had to leave the class room.

Walking outside I remembered being surrounded by my supporters. It was like the entire school was equally divided into two camps. I could see like half the student body was already outside of the school gate and the other half was waiting patiently for me to emerge from my classroom. Then on queue they surrounded me and escorted me out the school gate and into the arena. The moment of truth had come!

Sorry folks but I honestly do not remember much more of the fight itself or the eventual winner and looser. I think I must have one or fought valiantly for after that I was no longer a part of the background scenery but was allowed to now play with the bigger boys.

That was my first school fight and I can only remember fighting two more times, once at Ocho Rios Elementary school and that was against my best friend at the school, both before and after the fight; the second time was against my older brother, I had to show him who was boss, he was a year younger than me.

Next time I will try and fill you in on him.

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