Boys Will be Boys

 For the most part growing up I was a pretty good kid. I'd be ornery every now and again and there were a few times where I out right misbehaved. For the most part though, I stayed out of trouble and played by the rules.  One of my best friends growing up, was a bit more on the wild side. 

One of the best people I've ever known in my life, deep down inside he wasn't only a good kid, he was a great kid. He was a man of justice, even at the tender age of 5, 6 years old. One that always stood up for the other guy.  One who never tolerated the mistreatment of others. If you were ever in a bind, or you found yourself outnumbered, all you had to do was glance over your shoulder, He always had your back.  I guess I've called a lot of people "friend" during my near 37 years on this planet, but only a select few, less than a dozen that truly fit that moniker.  He was one of them. 

Yet he was also mischievous. Had a heck of an imagination and wasn't afraid of anything or anyone. Every once in a while he'd fear the consequence of his action, but it was always after he had already done it, never before.   

One day were were playing outside and he got an idea.  His Dad had an old car that sat out in the yard.  It had sat there in the same place for years.  He figured since they hadn't moved it in years, it must not be that important.  Earlier that day we had watched a movie where these guys had trashed a car.  My friend thought it looked like fun. I wasn't so sure. 

We went into the garage, as he handed me a hammer and grabbed himself a baseball bat. 

"Here," He said. "We can use these." 

"Are you sure we won't get in trouble for doing this?" 

"We'll be fine."  

With the assurance of a good insurance salesman who insist you need flood insurance while living in Death Valley, California, I followed him to the car. 

"Have at it!" He said as he crawled on top of the car's hood. 

I sat down next to the back tire and lightly tapped my hammer against the wheel. 

"No, no, no!" He yelled at me. "Like this!" 

He reared back like Hank Aaron about to hit a home run as he hit the windshield with such force that it knocked him back on his rear end.  A huge hole that spiderwebbed nearly the entire windshield remained.  

"What the HELL are you boys doing!" 

I dropped my hammer and froze in panic.  It was his Dad.  We heard him through the kitchen window as we heard the door slam.  I was best friends with this kid, going over to his house for 14 years of my life and it was the only time I was ever afraid of his Dad.  

I'll never forget what my friend said to me as his Dad approached us. 

"Say it was your idea."

"What!?!?!?" 

"He won't hit you. He'll blister my ass!" 

When his Dad got to us, I was so afraid that I couldn't speak. I couldn't even move.  

"It was Stephen's idea."   

His Dad took one look at me and then looked back at him. 

"Like Hell it was!"  He grabbed him under the arm, hoisted him up and carried him, screaming and fighting back inside. 

Thinking that he might come back for me, I went and hid.  As I hid, I heard two very loud noises one followed right after the other. 

WHAP!
"AH!!" 

It was the sound of my friend getting spanked and his reaction to it. 

A few minutes later, my friend came hobbling outside.  

"Stephen!" He yelled for me.  

I slowly crept around to where he was. 

"Is it safe?" I asked him. 

He rubbed his behind with his hand as he slowly sat down, fidgeting about from the soreness that remained. 

"Yeah," He said. "It's safe." 

"Did you get spanked?"

"What the hell do think?" He frowned at me. "This is really your fault you know."

"My fault?" 

"Yeah." 

"How is it my fault. It was your idea."

"Well yeah," He admitted. "But your supposed to talk me out of these things.  That's your job." 

Unable to warrant a response all I could do was stare at him. 

"My mom says your a good influence on me, or at least your supposed to be." 

Yeah, supposed to be.