Having many times reinforced my brother's response to provocation I
decided to use the simple 'flee' plan of action and leave talking out
of the mix. Cowardice has always been a two edged sword for me, while
it has kept me out of a lot of unpleasant confrontations; it has also
kept me out of a lot of in-my-best-interest confrontations. Fighting
with my brother usually fell into a rhythm that you could almost
write as a poem. A bad poem that you would right in English class,
but a poem is a poem. It would start out with a minor provocation.
Usually when one of us was bored or feeling cranky anyway and wanted
to mix things up just for the sake of it. Then a little low level
tussle would begin, a little pushing a little wrestling. Then the
tempo would build and someone would be holding too hard or a nose
would get bonked and then we would move to the third act, climax. The
fight at this point would start to be the kind where any advantage
would be taken to inflict pain. I was a big fan of the sleeper hold
and leg scissors combination, as was Matt. Who ever got that move in
first would usually win either by submitting the other brother,
waiting it out until a parent broke it up, or knocking the
opponent-brother out. One day though Matt went off script and decided
to just overpower my choke and leg scissor with rage and then try and
kill me. Once he was out of my unfinished finishing move he ran and
got a roofing hammer that was always in the utility room. I once
again opted for the better part of valor, as was my custom, and ran
to our room and slammed the door and tried to hold it shut. What my
magnificent run away and hide plan lacked was a solid door. Mobile
home doors are made of cardboard on edge in a lattice and two
as-thin-as-is-physically-possible pieces of plywood which gives them
no rigidity and almost no resistance to a roofing hammer. Most of the
time that is no big deal because who is running away from someone who
is using a roofing hammer? I was, that's who was the tangent to long
and you forgot? Matt came running half a second behind me with the
hammer and struck the door. The doors weakness became my salvation
because when he hit the door it offered so little resistance that the
hammer went right through and out of his hand and into my side. You
would think the shoe would be on the other foot but it was not he was
still so mad that I didn't dare release the door even long enough to
grab the hammer and offer a counter attack. My mom finally came and
broke up the fight and saw the hole through the door and was a little
upset for some reason. My dad spanked us both for fighting and
ruining the door. The door however was not repaired and we just
covered it with some posters. Over the years in different fights that
hole in the door would allow a weapon especially a long stick to be
poked in to jab a door holder that you wanted to stop holding the
door. It eventually got worked into about a 10” hole and then the
door was replaced. I kind of feel bad for people who didn't have
hole in the door to jab weapons at brothers or sisters who wouldn't
let you in to beat them up if you were really mad. Sometimes it is
hard to explain why God distributes his gifts so unevenly.
