Hawvus

            “You’re short, so other kids will condescend you.  But you don’t care, because although you’re short, you’re brighter than them.  Remember that, Hawvus,” Mrs. Statin reminded Hawvus as they were approaching the entrance of Starknare Middle School. 

            “Yes, mom,” he replied. 

            “Good.  Good day with school.”  Mrs. Statin kissed Hawvus on the forehead and waved goodbye as Hawvus stepped into the building. 

            He looked around.  The school was enormous.  Where was he supposed to go?  He saw a woman in a maroon dress standing at the bottom of the staircase, greeting the new sixth graders.  He followed them. 

            When Hawvus got to the woman, he firmly shook her hand and asked, “I am a sixth grade student.  Where do I go?”  The woman smiled, stretching her red lipstick across her face. 

“Of course.  Come sit down in the auditorium.  It’s right down the hall.”  She looked to her side.  “Ralph, can you take our new student to the auditorium?”

“Who?” Ralph asked.  The woman chuckled. 

“Here,” and pointed to Hawvus.  Ralph followed the woman’s finger down to Hawvus.  His chin nearly touched his neck trying to do so.  His eyebrows spiked up. 

“Okay,” he said to the woman.  “Come child,” he said condescendingly and Hawvus’s mind flashed back to his mother’s words. 

As they walked, Ralph looked Hawvus up and down, seemingly thinking he was undersized.  He ignored Ralph.  Everyone thought that way.  Hawvus learned to accept it. 

Ralph stopped and shooed Hawvus through the blue wooden doors.

He hurried down the aisle to find an empty, distant seat in the middle of the auditorium.  Bored, he looked around the room.  Sitting in the far left corner was a sleek and shiny piano.  The walls were painted brown, a dull muddy brown.  They seemed rusty, as if no one had glazed it in a very long time.  The floor illuminated a bright orange color which contrasted the dull walls.  The stage, glazed wood, and the background, colored with a messy abstract painting of vibrant colors shone with the top lights gleaming on it.  Children chattered in small groups, but many also sat alone, biting their fingernails and tapping their feet on the ground.  Hawvus sat in the middle row, taking all of this in. 

“Welcome!  Welcome sixth graders!  Welcome to Starknare Middle School!”  Loud applause.  The woman in the maroon dress stood on the stage. 

“My name is Carrole Sternly and I am your new principal.  As your principal, safety is of utmost priority.  That being said, there is no tolerance of bullying or any other violent act like bullying……..”  Mrs.  Sternly went on with the orientation—the nrmal welcome, the introduction of the teachers, the constraints of the school, etc…..  When the welcoming orientation ended, they were grouped into five different classrooms and the day began. 

The teacher walked in with the attendance sheet in hand.  “Hello, my name is Kare Terkley and I am you new Literacy and Social Studies teacher.  Right off the bat, I’m going to try to learn each of your names.  When I call you, stand up.”

“Ziphr Arga.”  A tall student stood up. 

“Stanley Berekeley.”  Another tall student……

“Hawvus Statin.”  Hawvus climb out of the chair and onto his feet.  He was only 4 feet.  He had black hair, tawny eyes and very pale skin.  His hands, feet, nose ears--- they were all proportionately minuscule.  Students’ mouths opened; their laughter was clear.  Students’ eyebrows raised; their doubt and astonishment was evident.  Hawvus knew he’d have trouble in school.  He, unfortunately, was right. 

As his schoolmates started realizing this small child got the best grades in the class, they began to take notice of him.  And Hawvus, at first, attempted to ignore them, like his mother said. 

One day, during the second month of school, when Hawvus was walking home, he heard a group of boys whispering to each other.  At once, the boys circled around Hawvus. 

“You’re too small.  [And the silent, ‘you’re too smart’]  You don’t belong here.” 

Hawvus calmly shrugged and tried to walk away.  But the lead boy blocked him.

“No.  You are not going anywhere.”  The leader, a blond haired, tall, and prideful boy, walked up to Hawvus plundered to the hard, cement, clutching his jaw.  He raised his hands to protec6t himself.  But the boy knocked them away and kicked Hawvus in the waist. 

“Ouch!!”  “Ow!  Ow!  Ow!” He cried like an injured wolf. 

The boy stepped aside.  “Now you know weakness,” and viciously smiled.  They proudly thumped away, leaving Hawvus in pain, bleeding. 

This happened over and over.  Hawvus never complained to his parents.  He didn’t want them to fret.  But, he wasn’t as strong as he seemed.  At night, he cried to himself.  He bawled in his sheets until they were fully wet.  He had nightmares about the bullies kicking, punching, bullying, and cracking his bones.  The bullies broke his body.  The only thing Hawvus had left was his mind.  But soon, they would take that too, as they transformed dislike into hatred, and hatred into violence.  He wanted it to end.  He didn’t want the pain any longer. 

After school, the next day, Hawvus hurried home.  And to his great relief, the bullies didn’t follow him.  At home, Hawvus logged on the Internet and watched Youtube videos of fighting.  The strategy he learned: watch for your opponent’s mistakes and capitalize on them.  Then, he locked himself in his room and practiced fighting.  Using a big exercise ball as the practice target, he feinted, punched, and kicked.  For a while his feet and arms constantly grew sore.  They hurt so badly.  Some days, he wanted to stop and just gave up and lie on his bed.  But he kept going.  He threw obstacles at himself.  Imagining two of the bullies standing in front of him, he pushed his mind to envision the method he could evade and win them.  Intervening his mind and body into one, he grew stronger, faster, and more able.

Then, the bullies came back.  But Hawvus was ready; they were not.  They circled around him again.  Hawvus pretended to be frightened.  But when the first one punched his skull, Hawvus ducked and launched his fist at the bully’s stomach.  The bully crumpled to the ground.  Seeing this, the other bullied circled around and clumsily ran at Hawvus.  Hawvus saw there were too many of them.  He would use the bullies as guards for himself.  Hawvus ducked, side-kicked, punched, and hid behind one bully while another bully tried to attack him (of course, that bully only hit his own comrade.).  By the end, most had minor injuries, and Hawvus crowned himself victor. 

The other bullies learned of this and they attacked in a more controlled manner.  They would elect the leader to guide them through battle.  But he won those too.  The bullies stopped trying altogether.  They would throw deadly looks and menacing glares.  They would taunt him and try to get him into trouble.  But these small insults were petty, useless.  They never, never, fought him again.