“Ding-Dong the witch is dead. Ding-dong the wicked witch is dead. “ The group of boys sang as they surrounded a tiny Amerasian boy. The boy looked up to his tormenters wondering how he would get away from their verbal grasp.
Ever since fourth grade Jimmy Dong had never known any other life than to be the victim of bullies.
“Ding-dong!” a particular chubby boy grabbed the Amerasian boy on the sides of his head then head then knocked it back and forth like the clapper of a bell. Then the youngster grabbed his victim’s shoulders and bounced his body back and forth. He then pushed Jimmy down on the hot parking lot of the junior high school. Terrified, Jimmy stood up and grabbed his burnt skin. Like lightening, he began to run while clutching the straps of his backpack. Panic chased around inside of him. He didn’t want to stomach being pushed into scorched pavement again. Jimmy bolted across the parking lot, past the magnolia trees and to the bus stop where school busses were waiting.
“What’s the rush dung dong?” a muscular boy purposely stretched his burly arms across the doorway of the bus. The boy noticed jimmy sweating and breathing so hard that it was difficult to breathe. He threw his head up in the air and laughed. “Oh no! Its gonna be pretty stinky here in this bus. Better take the next one Dung Dong.”
“Leave him alone Clyde!” a large blonde girl yelled out of the school bus window.
“Nooooooo!” another boy shouted from the back. “Give it to him! He’s nothing but a looser anyway.”
“I c-cant C-C-C-Clyde.” Young Mr. Dong stammered trying to figure a way to get past the brute so he didn’t have to walk home. “Th-th-there is no other bus.”
“Well then walk looser!” Clyde screamed and walked slowly off the bottom stair to intimidate the other boy.
“Leave him alone!” the girl shouted again.
“I c-c-c-cant C-C-Clyde.” Jimmy fumbled for words. “I h-h-h-have to be home on time.”
“ So walk.” The bullyboy sneered. Jimmy looked up past Clyde to see if the bus driver was on the bus perched in her seat. “Of course not!” Jimmy thought. “Every time I am in trouble no one is around to help me.”
“Hey ding-dong.” The first group of bullies called out to him. “We weren’t finished with you.” One of the boys balled up his left fist and smashed it into the palm of his right hand in attempt to scare Jimmy. Jimmy watched boys on both sides of him closing in. In the pit of his skinny stomach, Jimmy felt the quaking of fear erupting so much so he could loose his lunch at any moment. “That would make things worse. He whispered to himself. He often muttered to himself when he was afraid or nervous. To him, it was the only voice that could ever calm him. Some times Jimmy even prayed but wondered if there was ever a God or Jesus who really did hear him. If there were why would they ever want to listen to him? No one else did.
Karla, the girl from the bus who yelled at Clyde leaped from the bus and jumped in front of Jimmy to shield him. She held up a worn leather Bible and shouted, “If you jerks want to get to this guy you have to aim to get across this first!”
“What’s wrong dung?” Clyde bared his yellow crooked teeth. “Letting a girl fight for you?”
“I’m not fighting.” Karla replied, “I’m just saying to get to him you have to get through this.”
The boys stopped. Even they didn’t want to hurt a Bible.
“No fair.” Bobby one of the boys in the group shouted. “You’re not supposed to have one of those on school grounds.”
“And you’re not supposed to be a bully.” Karla yelled back.
“Well I’m gonna tell that you have a Bible.” Clyde said.
“And I’m gonna tell you beat up other kids.” Karla glared. The boys watched the bus driver start to walk towards her bus. Clyde spat a foamy ball of spit on the ground then turned around to board the bus. Karla walked with Jimmy up the bus stairs still holding a Bible. The other boys dispersed for home. Maybe there was a God and Jesus who heard him after all.
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