Mark Ryden

When I was a kid I took a few too many to the head.

If I wasn’t falling out of trees I was jumping off of the tops of slides instead of sliding down them, or I was crashing my bike in the street because I blew it jumping curbs or I was getting beaned in the head with rocks thrown by the daughter of my Blue Bird Troop leader.

That little girl hated me with a passion- her Mom had caught her telling me and two of our other troopers that people with brown skin ‘smelled different’ and she made her daughter apologize to me in front of our entire little troop.

I accepted the apology and when we went to sit in our circle to start the meeting I told my sister Blue Bird, ” I hope you get hit by a bus and dragged down the street.”

The next day she threw her first of many rocks at my head.

I remember a few adults tried to make her stop- probably because she missed once and her poorly aimed rock sailed through a neighbors window instead of into my head.

She explained in tears that she didn’t mean to hit the window, she wanted it to hit me.

Why on Earth was she doing that? She was asked.

” Because she wants me to get hit by a bus just because I said her skin stinks. Everyone with brown skin stinks. Everyone knows that.”

” I hope I’m driving the bus that smooshes you.” I said.

Everyone looked at me. ” Beep. Beep.” I said right into her face ” Beep. Beep. Beep.”