I did my reps, then I got my camera and went out to clear my mind.
I went to the park and started taping. I shot footage of some old ladies feeding the pigeons and speaking Russian.
Behind me, I heard a group of children, ganging up on a lone kid.
"Retard! Retard!" taunted the group.
"Leave me alone!" cried the kid.
When I was seven, I spent all my recesses at school on the monkey bars. I used to close my eyes and hang upside down. I enjoyed feeling the rush of blood, as it all flowed into my head. Then, I'd lift my head up and feel the blood whoosh through my body.
I felt the gob of spit hit me on the forehead.
I opened my eyes and saw an upside down Benny Tornblow and his gang of idiots. They were like the wild dogs that roamed the river bed outside town. If you looked weak, they went for the throat, and they always hunted in packs.
I tried to right myself up. I was stuck.
"Hey, Greg?" Benny said. "My dad says your mom's a drunk. And your dad's a fairy. That's why your mom kicked him out."
"Shut up, Benny!"
"That makes you a fairy."
Benny and his gang started chanting. "Greg is a fairy, Greg is a fairy."
They began spitting on me.
"Greg is a fairy, Greg is a fairy."
That night at home, I clipped out of my 'Action Comics,' the ad for 'Charles Atlas, He Man.'
I looked at the ad.
The weakling gets sand kicked in his face. Charles Atlas makes him a He-Man and the ex-weakling gets his revenge and leaves with the girl.
That's what I was going to do.
