The Wimp

We met on a cold, winter day around the Y2K scare.  

I was working at Home Depot at the time.  A snow blizzard was on its way.  Associates were eager to go home before the roads were dumped with snow.  Customers were scrambling to get road salt and snow shovels.  It was quite a chaotic scene.

In the midst of all this, I heard several people talking in Cantonese in the greenhouse, leisurely discussing which plant would require the least watering and care.  "Why on Earth would anybody choose to come here to browse through houseplants now????"  Curiosity made me go over to check out the group.  There, I found Marky, his mom and his little sister.  It turned out they lived just across the street from our store.

Even though I was off the clock already, we chatted a little and I helped them pick a plant.  On my way out, I felt a tuck on my shirt from behind.  I turned to look: It was Marky.  His head was hanging so low that I could barely see his face.  With a small piece of paper in his hand, he muttered, "May I have your number?  I would like to be friends with you.  You can say no.  But, I mean, I really would like you to say yes.  I am not going to call you all the time.  But, I may call you some time . . . "  He was hyperventilating.

It was a little strange, but extremely adorable.  I had never had any male approach me like that.  I guess it must be the first time Marky asked a woman for her phone number.  After all, he was only seven.

We soon became friends.  Marky and I called each other periodically on the phone.  He was a sweet and gentle boy.  We talked about school, friends, movies, food, and places we had been to, . . .   It is amazing how many things you can actually discuss with a seven-year-old.  Friendship with a child is so simple and enjoyable.

Marky's parents did not seem to worry about their child's friendship with some strange adult.  Sometimes I would pick him up for an outing.  They never asked me where we were going.  As long as I brought him home by dinner time, it was fine.  It was before the age of cell phones.  They did not have my home number.  They did not even know where I lived.  When I asked his mom, her response was, "Why would anybody want to take my son anyway?"

One time, Marky's mom answered the phone when I called.  "Marky told me all kinds of good things about you.  It makes me curious.  So, I thought maybe I should get to know you." She invited me for dinner at their place.  "My son said that Meipo is nice, kind and generous to him.  He likes talking to you.  The boy says that when he grows up, he wants to find a wife just like you because you can protect him.  Sigh!  My son.  He is such a little wimp!"  That was how became friends with the mom, too.  

Marky was a timid and small kid.  He got bullied a lot in school.  One time, several bigger kids ganged up on him.  They beat him and kicked him.  He was already down, but they continued to drag him with his back pack on the ground.  He came home all cover in mud, except the tracks where tears ran down his cheeks.  He was bruised all over, and his face was very scratched up.  His parents reported these incidents to the school, but there was only that much teachers could do to protect him.

I suggested to the family that Marky try Aikido so that he learned to protect himself.  I took him a couple times and the kid really enjoyed it.  However, it did not last because the parents found the location too out of the way for them to take him on a weekly basis.

A few months later, Marky told me he started learning Kung Fu.  I went to watch him in class.  He was enthusiastic and did quite well.  His teacher even asked him to help other kids.  Before long, however, he stopped going.  I wondered why.

Marky's mom shook her head, "Sigh!  I don't know.  Why don't you ask my son yourself?"

"So, what happened?  I thought you said you really wanted to learn some martial arts to protect yourself from the bullies . . ."  I looked at Marky, who was very quiet.  I was only trying to find out what was going on, but I had the impression that he felt judged and shamed.  

After a very long silence, he finally opened up.  "I don't want to hurt them." Marky said.  "What do you mean?  Who are they?" I was perplexed.  "My schoolmates.  I don't want to hurt them."  Marky lifted his head with a rare tough look in his eyes.  "You know, I am really becoming good at Kung Fu.  If I become too good, when they come for me, I worry that I might accidentally injure them."  

Even though it seemed silly and a bit far-fetched, I did not laugh or question him because I could see the boy was serious.

"I hate it when they beat me.  But, I don't want to hurt them back.  You know, I survived even when they gang up on me.  It's ok.  I can take it.  I really can take it.  Maybe all I have to do is to try to run faster next time."  Marky looked at me with his watery puppy eyes.  All of a sudden, I was at a loss for words.

Marky's family moved away and we lost touch with each other, but I have not forgotten my little boy friend.  On my refrigerator, I still have the valentine he gave me in 2000 which has a picture of him and his little sister.  There is not one day I do not wonder where this brave, compassionate boy is and what kind of person he has become . . .