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28 Don’t <strong>Feed</strong> <strong>The</strong> <strong>Bully</strong><br />
about the Society, the cage, Kurt, or Ralphie they would<br />
clam up tighter than a three-year-old mouth at a brussel<br />
sprout convention.<br />
I needed to talk to Ralphie and get him into my confidence.<br />
<strong>The</strong> hard part was the approach. I figured the<br />
playground was the best place. Ralphie always sat alone on<br />
the concrete wall next to the school stairs across and right<br />
of the kickball diamond. I needed a plan that would get me<br />
close to Ralphie. I went home after the last bell and told<br />
Mom that I needed to think. I skipped dinner and took a<br />
six-pack of root beer and two bags of Cheetos into my<br />
room. This was going to take a lot of thought.<br />
During the next morning recess, I put the plan into motion.<br />
My first move was to ask to play catcher for the ritual<br />
pre-lunch kickball game.<br />
“Catcher” in kickball is what they call a “loose” term,<br />
meaning it had less to do with catching than a half pipe had<br />
to do with plumbing. A position reserved for kids with<br />
sprained ankles, and kids who could not catch a ball even if<br />
it was tattooed to their chest.<br />
No one struck out in kickball so the catcher spent his<br />
time retrieving foul kicks and staying out of the way when a<br />
team-mate hurled the ball at a runner heading to home plate.<br />
A small net could play catcher and plenty of times you<br />
didn’t even have that, but today I needed to be the net.
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