He Looked Right At Me…

and in that split second wound up, extended his arm and released it the full weight of him behind the thrust.

It connected and splattered on my car window as I passed him.

In the next split second I stopped the car and without hesitating turned it around and followed him as he ran away down the street.

He ducked between a couple of houses.

“Good. Now I know where you live!” I yelled to him.

As I turned the car around he ran out and back up the street to his waiting friend. A mistake. He had to know at that moment he was in the headlights. He had to know he had nowhere to run.

I could see him shaking and breathing heavily as I pulled up closer, slowing the car, he walked to the passenger’s window as I stopped.

“What’s your name?” I asked calmly.

“J-Joe”, he answered, shaking.

“Why did you do it?” I looked him in the eye.

“He dared me!”, he said too quickly pointing to his friend.

“You know that’s not a good reason. You make your own decisions. Don’t blame him.” I said, matter-of-factly.

“I’m s-s-sorry. I really am”, he pleaded.

“I can see that, I know you are, but” I continued, “What if it was a rock (I paused) and what if it connected and hit me in the head while I was driving? The car could have gone out of control and hit you, or your friend.” I made sure the weight of my words were having an impact.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” He repeated.

“I know that , Joe and I know where you go to school and I know your parents and I want you to tell me you’re never going to throw anything at anyone every again.” With every new thought, he nodded.

“I’ll never will again”, he said, still shaking.

“Good, I believe you”. I said and left him at the curb.

Robertson Davies wrote a book called, ‘Fifth Business’. In it a lifetime of guilt was created from one puposefully thrown snowball with a rock in the center.

Who knows if he really learned anything today.

But he sure smelled like fear when I drove away.