Mike's days in elementary school were something else. He was always getting into a fight with the older boys from Slab Town. Mike was the local, undefeated street fighter. No one was able to lay a hand on him, except for Father.

      Mother despised going to teacher conferences to discuss Mike. It was always the same thing. He was mean! He had a terrible temper! His destiny was prison, if he did not change his ways. He was so horrible that the teachers would draw straws to see who get him as a student.

      When Father was separated from Mother, Mike became the 'lord and master.' Joey and I were too afraid to tell Mother how he ordered us around.

      Whenever, the 'lord and master' wanted to practice his baseball skills, he would drag Joey and me outside. Mike did take the time to show me how to hold the bat, despite the fact that my hands were too small to really grasp it.

      Joey stood nearby waiting to get any baseballs I might hit. Mike threw fast balls and Kyle would catch them. He would throw the balls and laugh about how dangerous it was to get hit by one. A person could die from getting hit in the head or suffer permanent brain damage. I would hold the bat with my knees shaking as I heard each ball sizzle by me.

      "Come on," he yelled. "Hit the ball!"

      'What planet are you from?' I wanted to say to him.

      One day Mike had enough of my inability to hit the ball and threatened to put Joey in my place.

      THAT DID IT! I stared at the ball he was about to throw. I held the bat tight. I knew I would hit the ball before he threw it. I visualized in my mind the ball hitting Mike right between the eyes. Then, in a flash, that's exactly what happened.

      All I remember was standing over Mike with the bat in my hand. Kyle stood by covering his mouth. I knew he was trying not to laugh.

      I heard him mumble, "He got what he deserved."

      It took a few minutes before Mike could sit up. When I saw the bump, I ran into the house to get some ice. Joey followed me inside. I did not see Mother. I peered into the living room and still did not see her. Her bedroom door was closed, so she probably was taking a nap. What a relief! I did not want to deal with Mother about Mike getting hurt. After all, it was my fault.

      Quickly, I grabbed a chair. I asked Joey to get a clean face cloth. I opened the refrigerator door and reached inside the top freezer section for an ice tray. Joey ran back with the cloth. I took three pieces of ice and folded the cloth around them. Then, we went back outside.

      Mike took it from me and placed it on his forehead. He did not look at me, which was strange. In fact, he should be yelling at me. Since he was not, I began to feel the pains of guilt.

      After the ice had melted, Mike handed the wet cloth to Kyle.

      Kyle gave it me. "Wow! That was some hit, little sis." Then, he added with a big grin, "Do you want to try it again? Then, catching the look on Mike's face added, "I mean…huh…hitting the ball…not Mike…of course."

      Mike stood up and began walking towards the house. "She was just lucky! That will never happen again."

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