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The bell rang for recess.
Finally, thought Danny.
He lifted the top of his desk and shoved in his books and pencils. He knew he would catch hell for it from his teacher, but he was more concerned with spending enough time playing baseball.
“Race ya, Reagan!” cried one of his friends, Billy.
Danny didn’t need to be told twice. He tore out of the classroom, ignoring his teacher’s shouts. He curved and ducked around his peers, and he grinned wide hearing their giggles behind him.
Naturally, he arrived on the diamond first.
“No fair,” wheezed Billy.
“Not my fault you have two left feet MacNeil,” snorted Danny. Their other friends snickered. “Don’t worry, I’ll cut you a break. You can bat first, but you have to admit I’m the fastest —”
Danny trailed off. His eyes had wandered over to the bars where he saw his younger sister.
Danny normally ignored Erin at school. She was only six-years-old, after all. As a third grader, he didn’t want anything to do with a first grade girl.
Now it was different. She was red-faced and shouting at a boy in Danny’s grade in a way that Danny knew meant she was fighting back tears.
“Reagan, where are you —?”
Danny didn’t hear the end of the question as he stormed across the grounds. He reached Erin as a group was starting to gather.
“What’s going on?”
All heads whipped toward him.
“Oh, hi Reagan,” said Christopher McIntosh. “Why don’t you go back to the diamond?”
“Why don’t you answer my question?” said Danny testily.
“It’s none of your business,” said Christopher.
“She’s my business,” said Danny, motioning to Erin.
Christopher’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Erin.
“Do you need your big brother to fight your battles?” mocked Christopher.
“Go away, Danny,” hissed Erin.
Danny, who until then had ignored Erin, turned to look at her.
“What did he say to you?”
“Go away!” repeated Erin, but Danny wouldn’t hear it.
Erin didn’t get upset over nothing. Christopher must have said something genuinely awful.
“I’m not going to ask you again,” said Danny. A hush fell over the group of students as he addressed Christopher. “What did you say to her?”
An ugly look appeared on Christopher’s face.
“The truth,” spat Christopher. “My dad always says that girls are a mistake. If your dad was a real man, he’d have made your mom get rid of her.”
There were a couple of snickers, along with a handful of outraged gasps from girls. All Danny could hear was ringing in his ears as his fist connected with Christopher’s nose.
There was a sickening crunch. A body hit the ground. Then screams. Followed by —
“DANIEL REAGAN!”
Oh.
***
“Fighting?” hissed Mary. “A fist fight at recess?”
Danny was silent in the backseat.
“And now you’re suspended!” continued Mary, waving a hand in the air. “For fist fighting!”
Danny’s jaw worked.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” demanded Mary.
Danny met his mother’s eye in the rearview mirror.
“I wish I did it sooner.”
Mary nearly crashed the car.
***
“Is everything alr –?” began Betty.
“Daniel. Room. Now,” ordered Mary.
Without sparing a passing glance at his grandmother or baby brother, Jamie, Danny stormed to his room. He slammed the door and threw himself onto his bed.
“I meant it,” he muttered to himself. “I’d punch his stupid face again.”
There was a faint knock on his door.
“Go away,” snapped Danny before he could censor himself.
Oh, he was in for it now.
“It’s me, Joe.”
Danny’s relief caused his anger to subside ever-so-slightly. His little brother Joe was the only four-year-old Danny knew who would knock before he entered rooms. He sighed.
“Come in.”
The doorknob wiggled slightly before turning all the way. Joe walked in and closed the door behind him without Danny needing to tell him. Joe looked at his older brother.
“Mommy’s mad.”
“I’m mad, too,” said Danny.
“Why?” asked Joe. He hopped onto the bed beside Danny.
“Why are you home?” asked Danny instead. “You should be at Nursery.”
“I have sniffles,” said Joe. Not deterred, he asked again, “Why are you and Mommy mad?”
“I’m mad because people are stupid,” said Danny. “She’s mad because I punched a kid for being stupid.”
“Mommy gets mad when you use that word,” said Joe, knowledgeable.
“That’s stupid, too.” Joe giggled into his hand before coughing. Danny’s mild amusement turned into concern. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Grandma says I’ll be ‘right as wind’ soon.”
“I think you mean right as rain,” snorted Danny.
“Did you really punch someone?” said Joe, suddenly awestruck. Danny nodded. “Was it fun?”
Danny thought about it. Was it fun? It didn’t feel like how he felt when he played baseball. Yet he still felt good after he did it. Was that the same thing?
“Not really,” said Danny. “But I’m glad I did it.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Danny decisively. “You should go back to your room. Mom will probably come up here and she’ll be more mad that we’re talking.”
Joe looked disappointed, but he didn’t argue with Danny. He was much easier going than Erin. He hopped off the bed and meandered to the door. Before he opened it, he turned to Danny.
“Can you teach me how to punch?”
“You want me to be grounded forever?” laughed Danny. “Maybe when you start big kid school.”
Joe huffed and left the room. Danny rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling.
It was a good punch.
***
“Hello,” called out Frank.
“In here.”
Frank walked into the kitchen and took in the scene. Mary was at the stove while Betty was spoon-feeding Jameson at the kitchen table. A sullen Erin sat at the table with her homework.
“Alright,” said Frank. “What did I miss?”
“Is that any way to greet your family?” scolded Betty.
Frank smiled and bent over to kiss her cheek. He walked over to Mary next and pecked her lips.
“Right,” said Frank. “My shoes are getting wet from the storm cloud over this kitchen. Where are Joe and Danny?”
“Joseph’s asleep,” said Betty when Mary didn’t immediately respond. “He has a mild cold, but it should be out of his system soon.”
“And Danny?” said Frank, already having a suspicion.
“Grounded,” hissed Mary. Bingo. “His school suspended him.”
Now that Frank did not anticipate.
“What did he do?”
“He got into a fight,” said Mary. She slammed down the spoon in her hand, causing Jamie to whimper. She exhaled and shot an apologetic look toward her youngest. “He punched a kid.”
Frank’s eyebrows shot up. He looked over at his daughter, who was unusually quiet.
“What’s on your mind, Ireland?” he asked her.
“What?” asked Erin, looking up from her paper.
Frank raised an eyebrow.
“You love when your older brother gets in trouble,” said Frank.
Erin shrugged, but she didn’t meet his eye.
“He’s in our room,” she said blandly. “I’m trying not to think about him destroying it.”
Frank had to give her points for creativity.
“What was the fight about?” asked Frank.
Now he had gotten to the root of Mary’s frustration.
“That’s just it!” she raged. “He won’t tell me. When I asked in the car, he said he wished that he had done it sooner.”
Frank rubbed the corners of his eyes. Part of him was fighting a smile due to how much Danny was like him. The overwhelming part of him, though, was baffled. Danny wasn’t quick to anger. Sure, he could get angry when he was pushed, but he would usually say something snarky or shove someone. He was not an especially violent kid and he had never thrown the first punch.
“I’ll go speak with him,” said Frank. He turned to Betty. “Thanks for watching the kids, Mom.”
Betty smiled at him as he passed through the kitchen.
***
Frank walked into the room without introduction.
Danny was pacing the floor, staring at a sports magazine. He tossed it onto his bed when he saw who was there and faced Frank with a straight back.
“I hear you had an eventful day,” said Frank. There was little emotion in his voice. Danny swallowed. It was hard to tell how mad his father was with him. “Let’s sit.”
Danny sat on his bed. His father had a way of taking what should sound like a request and making it into an order.
Frank sat across from his eldest son.
“What happened?”
“I got in a fight,” said Danny.
When it became clear that Danny wasn’t going to elaborate, Frank said, “With whom?”
“Christopher McIntosh.”
“And you punched him?”
Frank’s gaze followed Danny’s as the latter looked at his now-bruised fist.
“Yes,” said Danny firmly.
Frank exhaled and studied Danny. The only way to get an answer from Danny would be to get to the point. He wouldn’t willingly offer any information otherwise.
“What did that kid say or do to make you throw the first punch?” asked Frank.
Danny stared at his father. There was no way that he was going to tell anyone what Christopher said. His parents would go through the roof and he had handled it. Christopher would now think twice before saying anything that stupid again.
Danny would make sure of that if it seemed Christopher didn’t learn that lesson.
“Trust me,” said Danny. “You don’t want to freakin’ know.”
For someone who hates the spotlight, Frank wished there was a camera on him. He would have loved to see his expression as those words left Danny’s lips and registered in his mind.
What eight-year-old says, “Trust me, you don’t want to freakin’ know”?
Frank considered pressing the matter further, but something made him think better of it. Maybe he should scold Danny for laying a hand on another kid, but his detective instincts told him that there was likely an element to the story that he didn’t want to know. That despite breaking rules, Danny did something that was incredibly necessary. Even if it was simply fighting his own battle and accepting the consequences.
“Wash up for dinner,” was all Frank said.
“Yes, sir,” said Danny.
Frank watched as his son left the room. He shook his head to himself.
“Trust me, you don’t want to freakin’ know.” Good grief.
***
“Why didn’t you tell them?”
Danny rolled over in bed. He looked at the outline of his sister.
“What’s the point?” said Danny. “He won’t bother you now.”
“I could have fought him, myself!” Danny scoffed. “I could have!”
“Because that was going so well before I got there?”
Erin sat up straight in bed. She lobbed her book at his head. Danny cursed.
“Knock it off!”
“No, you knock it off,” hissed Erin. “You’re as bad as Christopher.”
Danny glared at her through the darkness.
“I’m not. I wouldn’t say what he said.”
“You call me a ‘stupid girl’ all the time!”
“That’s different,” insisted Danny. “You’re a stupid girl, but you’re still my sister.”
Erin stared at him.
“You’re the stupid one,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Uh-uh,” said Danny, now smirking. “You’re the one who has to get up early for school.”
Now it was Erin’s turn to smirk.
“You know Mom is gonna make you do chores, right?”
Danny paused. He cursed again and Erin giggled.
“I hate you. Go to sleep.”