The child wanted the bully's red bicycle, but he knew to take it away would be going against a pecking order that had been around forever.
He walked up to the bully, who was sitting on the slightly oversized bike, and asked if he could ride it.
The bully squinted at him as he spoke, acting as though he couldn't hear him. As though the child had no voice at all.
"Get away from me," the bully said.
The child assured him that he only wanted to try the bike so he could tell his father if that was the model he wanted. He begged the bully to please let him at least sit on it.
The bully kicked some playground gravel toward the child and to him to fuck off. He called the child an idiot. A moron. A weirdo.
The child could feel all the rage of his life come into his face. He made a fist he imagined was as big as a truck and punched the bully in the nose.
The bully cried.
"Gimme you're bicycle," the child said.
The bully threw the bike to the ground and ran away.
The child got on. The bike was a little too small for his 6' frame, but he managed to ride home, looking to all who watched like a bear performing at a carnival.
When he arrived at his house, the man came and asked him where he got the bike. The child explained as well as he could, but the man continued to glare at him as though he understood not a word.
Later, another man came and took the bike away from the child. The bully stood under the arm of the man, watching as the child tried to explain. He was forever trying to explain.
Everybody just looked at him.