The bigger boys loved to taunt me
in their ripped jeans and expensive sneakers.
They walked like cowboys from old westerns
pelvis forward, shoulders squared, hands on their hips
where their holsters should have been.
Irritated with their own lives,
they wanted to get back at somebody for it--anybody would do.
My Korean face stood out from the others,
so they picked me.
They would stalk me on the way home from school,
where no teachers could stop them.
I had to walk just one short block from the bus stop to my home.
One block with them shadowing my steps.
I didn’t need to turn around to know they were there.
Chiiiink. Jaaaaaap. Goooooook.
I could hear the glee in their voices as they drew out the vowels
to savor the taste of the words.
Whenever I flinched, they snickered.
I imagined their faces behind me;
fanged creatures, with claws and horns.
I knew if I ran, they would chase me, howling:
huge dobermans growling and snapping at the corners of my schoolbag.
Deliberately, I turned to face them.
Rotating my body first, I brought my eyes up last,
trying to delay the confrontation.
I saw one red-haired boy, freckled from the sun;
One blond boy, blue eyes glaring through thick glasses.
The other three had brown hair of varying shades and lengths.
One wore a baseball cap wedged on his uncombed head.
Another clamped his lips over braces, which bulged out anyway.
The last was the ringleader, skinniest and meanest.
My narrow eyes of black agate glared at their wide brown and blue ones.
My golden tan contrasted with their pale faces.
I saw them nudge each other and point at me,
their smirks becoming uncertain frowns.
They tripped over their untied laces
and elbowed each other in the ribs while trying to back away.
They never expected a nine-year old to stand up to them.
Five white boys with nothing better to do.
--Jomama