After ‘breaking it up’ and walking back to school, again, I figured everything was over with.
Nope.
We all went back to class after lunch hour and as I was sitting in class the dreaded call came in, “Mr. Bosquez please report to the principles office.”
Nah, it wasn’t that dramatic. The Principle had sent his secretary to get me from class and escort me to his office. She walked into class and quietly walked up to the teacher, whispered in his ear, I ever tell you I hate whispering, and gave me one of those disapproving side glances. I was motioned forward by the teacher and followed the secretary down to the Principles office.
We entered the main office and she said I could, “Go on in.”
I opened the door and was looking right into the face of the other kid I had just gotten into a fight with. He was sitting in a chair just inside the door, the office wasn’t very big.
“Mr. Bosquez have a seat. Okay, who threw the first punch?”
I don’t think the Principle was ready for such a quick answer, especially the one I gave him.
“I did”, I said, confidently. You could tell he wasn’t ready for that. I suppose he was waiting for the inevitable lying that usually accompanies teenage boys. I learned something right then.
He continued, “Why was that?”
“My dad always told me to,” I countered.
“What?” He asked.
“My dad always told me, ‘If you ever get in a fight make sure you throw the first punch and get at least one good one in’, so I did.”
“I don’t think that was what your father meant.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure that’s what he meant.”
“Are either of you hurt?”
“Not a scratch on me,”I said a bit proudly.
The other guy, looking all sheepish, said quietly, “I got a fat lip, a scratch under my eye and my zipper on my coat is torn.”
I’m laughing right now, writing and remembering that part. Did I forget to mention he was a tall skinny guy, who went about six two. I wasn’t no six feet tall I can tell you that. I only went, maybe, one thirty at the time, but I was scrappy.
Confidence is a funny thing. Too much can get you into trouble and not enough can also get you into trouble.
I learned a little bit that day. I learned that telling the truth straight up, either to the Principle, or to your dad later on, makes life a whole lot easier. Oh you’re gonna still catch hell from the old man, but it’s shorter, less painful and you don’t have to remember any lies and try to keep them all straight later on. Which by the way, when they are found out, and they always are, that trouble is not short and usually not less painful.
My dad was funny that way. He, like the Principle, must have been anticipating a lie whenever I had some adventures, so I told the truth like it was a lie, or a story, and my dad would either punish me or not. At least then I could keep all the facts straight. Sometimes I didn’t do anything and there was trouble in the house. So go figure.
The Principle also treated me differently after that day. Because, you know, I still would have to visit him on occasion.
Next installment… the court date. Leave a comment if you ever had to visit The Principles Office.
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