The songs were weak echoes now.
The memory of the victory was supposed to last a lifetime, but it had already been shoved aside by blood, some of which was still on Jasper’s scarf.
Helene was trying to wash the blood off with soda and lemon.
The stainless steel sink was pink.
“He hates you now,” Helene said.
There was a pause, and after she spoke, Eddie Roth realized Helene had been thinking of saying it since ten minutes after they walked in the door.
“I should divorce you.”
“It was a lesson,” Eddie said, and Helene shrieked in frustration.
Jasper taunted a kid wearing purple and yellow.
Eddie got it, he understood. He had been part of the rivalry as a kid too.
Egged houses.
Kidnapped mascots.
Even broken windows and a few broken bones, on and off the pitch.
But the kid, the smaller kid, begged Jasper to cut it out.
Eddie saw the cruel in his own son’s eyes.
He didn’t know where it came from.
Not from him, he was almost positive.
When the kid in the purple had enough, he socked Jasper in the face.
Jasper fell.
Eddie, swear to his dead Grandaddy, was certain Jasper would whup the kid.
He was wrong.
And he stood by while the kid straddled Jasper and popped him in the face five more times.
As many times as he had heard the small boy beg Jasper to cut it out.
Other Blue Razors had tried to jump in to help Jasper.
Eddie stopped them.
He couldn’t let his son, in victory and joy, be cruel without punishment.
When Jasper cried, the boy stood and ran.
Smart kid, Eddie thought.
He sipped a beer, looked at his trembling wife.
He knew he had made the right decision, but it was a decision he might not ever be able to run from.
The fight song was still echoing, somewhere out in the neighborhood.
Eddie wasn’t sure if they were out of tune, or he was.
***
Talk to me. Tell me your experience with a rivalry of any type
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When I was very little, a boy used to bully me. At one point, he pushed me off the sidewalk and onto the road. The road was near empty at the time, but in my terror I had imagined that a car would come at any moment and run me over. My mother found out about this. Without my knowledge she confronted the boy, grabbed him by the collar, and threatened to hurt him if he ever did that to me again.
She told me what she did years later. I think I was supposed to feel happy about my mother defending me against a bully, especially since it worked! The boy never hurt me again after that! But I couldn’t help but be horrified that a grown woman threatened bodily harm toward a boy less than ten years old. And every so often I think back to him and wonder if she traumatized that kid.
I know talking nicely rarely works. I know the majority of times, cruel people like Jasper don’t stop unless you hurt them or at least threaten to break something. I know if my mom hadn’t done anything, that boy probably would have continued to bully me after the road incident. But God, it doesn’t feel good. It doesn’t feel good at all.
Before I even read the story, I just want to go on record as saying I love the title.