I AM THE MASTER OF MY WORDS, THE CAPTAIN OF MY BOOK PICKS: WEEK 3

It's only been in the last few years that I have come to realize that conflict is often an opportunity cleverly disguised. When I was in school, my bus ride was chock full of opportunities. 

My brothers and I rode with two families made up of multiple siblings. As individuals, they were dumb as rocks, but as a group, both clans had figured out that because of their numbers, they could rule the bus. 

The Murphy's had the back, taking the seats on the wheels. Those jolted the most when the bus driver sped over bumps and curbs on the turns, sending her passengers high into the air. In those seats, and at the right speed, a kid's head could graze the ceiling of the bus. Most stared longingly at Danny and Richie and their two freckled sisters as they hooted and cursed happily when we hit a particularly potholed road and almost tipped over sideways.

The Greens were made up of two twin sisters, a brother, and a cousin that lived with them. They took the coveted front seats, glaring menacingly at anyone who dared to linger too long in front of them before moving to the middle of the bus...the section reserved for the weak, and families of less than four. Our Adreneline Junkie driver only muttered the occasional, "Shut up", when The Greens would put each other and some unsuspecting lower classmen in headlocks for most of the ride. 

Almost always, I was trapped in my own head, thinking mostly about books or where I'd ride my bike after school, and so much of what went on around me went unnoticed and I was left alone.
My two brothers were much more sociable, joking around and having fun, but sometimes not observing the clearly laid borders around the midsection of the vehicle. This, along with my older brother's temporary speech impediment, would sometimes cause problems for them.

One day, we hadn't even left the school parking lot when Richie M decided to get a jump on pushing around the younger kids. He started with my older brother...the lover, not the fighter...to this day, he avoids confrontation, that is, after he starts it. That afternoon was no different. He was horsing around with his buddies, and said something indirectly about Richie. He knew that my brother was talking about him and he heard the difficultly with which he got it out (speech impediment). Richie ripped into his prey like a raccoon, inspecting its food roughly before tearing it to shreds and eating it. 

I had just boarded, and heard the verbal abuse as I made my way toward the back. This was not the first time he had made fun of my brother, but it was the first time I let myself get involved. Richie was much older than both of us.

When was he finally going to leave the younger ones alone? 

Without a word, I walked up to him and punched him in the face. He never saw it coming and was shocked to find that he was bleeding. So much. 

In that brief moment of  stunned silence, I said, "You'd better stay away from my brother from now on." I sounded like Minnie Mouse. My tiny voice would've been laughable except for the crimson mess dripping from his nose and cheek where my nail had caught his skin. 

No one dared to move...but Richie. More quickly than I could react, he grabbed my head and slammed it repeatedly into the window. His younger brother Danny was my age and yelled, "Rich! She's a girl!" 

I resisted, so the blows weren't as hard as they could be, but it still hurt as much as if he was hitting me with a metal pipe. As my head rocked back and forth, I thought of what to do. I knew that this was basically like making a first impression, and my reaction would shape the next few years my brothers and I had to spend with this goon, so I made a decision. 

When he was done brutalizing me...I did nothing. Wiping a thick clot of blood that hung from his nose with the back of his hand, he stepped back to survey the damage, pleased with how he had overpowered me. 

I stared at him blankly for a few seconds. 

My eyes did not fill with uncontrollable tears because after years of my mother attacking my scalp with a hairbrush, I had learned to channel pain and anxiety into my feet. 

The entire bus was silent. Even the driver stood frozen next to her seat, unable to pull her eyes away. Fear and shame cloaked them all. Not one person had tried to stop him from hurting me. 

In those quiet moments, I saw it all clearly and drew strength from the pride I felt in standing up to this creepy little bully boy. Although my head pounded and I felt as though I might pass out, I smiled. And then I laughed. When he heard me ask, "That's it?", he shook his head and muttered, "You're fucking crazy", before falling into his seat, exhausted and ready to nurse his bruised face. 

That family was done with us. As far as they were concerned, we didn't exist anymore, to torment or otherwise.

The cousin of The Greens had in it for my younger brother. Michael would bother him every day and my brother did a decent job of ignoring him until one day when he just had had enough. 

They decided to get off at Michael's stop and duke it out. I told my brother not to, but he shook me off and insisted that he was going to shut this kid up. 

I told him that I would be coming too, but he warned me to stay out of it. 

I promised that I would....until Michael got my brother in a headlock that he couldn't get out of. As Michael spun around, dragging my brother's body with him, our sibling eyes met and I snapped. I lunged from the far corner of the lawn, where I had promised to stay, and grabbed Michael's hair. The surprise and pain made him instantly release my brother and I watched my younger sibling fall in a heap, trying to catch his breath. 

The sight of him struggling for air took me out of my rage and I realized that this was an optimal teaching moment. The lesson in my young head was, if you push, expect to get pushed back.

I kept my grip on Michael's hair and as I punched him in the face, each blow was accented with a word. You. Will. Never. Come. Near. My. Brother. Again. Or. I. Will. Kill. You.

My brother pulled me off of him and we left Michael on his front walk, bleeding and trying to cry through ragged breaths. 

When his mother pounded on our door an hour later and complained about what my brother had done to her "baby", my mother just laughed and said, "My DAUGHTER beat your son up. Maybe now he'll stop bullying everyone. Get the hell off my lawn before I call the police." Then she shut the door in their faces. Problem solved.

With each challenge (and in the case of this week's pick, when we're bullied) we have the potential to learn something about ourselves: How far is too far? How do I handle tough situations? Maybe I need anger management counseling after all...

Welcome to WEEK 3:
 
The rules:
1. Book discussion comments are left on this site

2. Comments should only be about the BOOK and in no way be offensive or degrading to any person or persons.

3. It's ok to jump into the club late. Join us on any day of any week. BUT if, for example, you are starting with SUKI on WEEK 3, DO NOT READ THE DISCUSSION COMMENTS. Stop after you get to the link to purchase the book or you may ruin the story for yourself. I cannot stress this enough.


MY TWO FLAGS 
by Javier A. Robayo               

THE SYNOPSIS:  
Antonio Amaya’s life revolved around his family, his friends, and one dream: to live in the United States. When the dream becomes reality, the drastic change creates daunting challenges.
Antonio endures exclusion and disdain from his new schoolmates by turning his disillusionment inward. Yearning to belong, he fills the pages of his notebook in the hopes of learning English.
But how does a thirteen-year-old overcome language barriers, racial slurs, and bullying while hiding his desire to return to his country from his parents, who have given up everything to live under two flags?

THE REVIEW:
Readers, welcome back Tony Amaya, a fickle character from Mr. Robayo's previous books, THE GAZE and THE NEXT CHAPTER. In MY TWO FLAGS, we learn about Tony's life before he meets Samantha, Gwen, and everyone's heartthrob, Lewis. 

Tony (Antonio) himself, narrates how he landed in the country that would change him and eventually lead him to his future with Gwen and his daughters.

As always, Javier's stories are well written and meaningful, but this book will hopefully change your perspective about being the "new kid" and how we view people who are "different". One of the things I liked most, was that I think this book does a wonderful job of highlighting both sides of that situation. 

Tony arrives in the U.S. with expectations that are not necessarily met. In some cases he is surprised, but in others, he is disappointed and angered by differences between the two countries. He forms impressions that are not very good, based on limited knowledge and experience of our culture. 

At the same time, many of his fellow students approach him in the same way...not really knowing him or who he is or why he behaves as he does, but quick to form opinions and have extreme reactions to his very existence.

I was deeply moved by two scenes in particular and would urge readers to pay close attention and put themselves in Antonio's place as you read them:

1. His struggle to order food from McDonalds. If you think there's nothing to buying a value meal, try doing it in China. In Chinese.
2.The meeting between the guidance counselor, his Spanish teacher, and Antonio himself after he is busted for "fighting". There is no way to know what is going on inside of someone unless you take the time to ask. And listen.

DISCUSSION PROMPTS:
Have you ever been pushed to your limit? Can you remember ever being a bully or having been the victim of a bully? After reading this book, do you find yourself considering someone else's perspective before passing judgement?

ORDER THE BOOK:
On Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/My-Two-Flags-ebook/dp/B00C46TJAA
On Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/my-two-flags-javier-robayo/1114981257?ean=2940016602585
In Print: http://www.javierrobayoauthor.com/my-two-flags.html


AND THE WINNERS ARE:
Thank you to Mary Margaret Tucker and Stacey Roberts for doing your homework this week. They will both receive a free copy of MY WAY by David P Perlmutter and Mary Margaret  can show off her SUKI mother/daughter bracelet at any event, 
compliments of THE SHINY BEAD.

MORE GREAT BOOK CLUB PICKS BY INDIE AUTHORS:

SUKI:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2013/06/summer-reading-book-club-week-1.html 

WRONG PLACE, WRONG TIME:


http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2013/06/friends-dont-let-friends-read-alone.html?showComment=1430071350264


OCTOBER SNOW:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2014/06/life-is-like-blanket-of-snow.html?showComment=1430071350264

TRAILER TRASH, WITH A GIRL'S NAME:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2014/10/you-know-youre-modern-day-trailer-trash.html

MOORE THAN MEETS THE EYE:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2014/09/theres-always-another-story.html

WELCOME TO HEIDI:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2014/06/welcome-to-must-read.html

KAFE CASTRO:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2013/08/why-are-you-so-serious-do-it-kafe.html

BROKEN ANGEL:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2012/09/broken-angel-review.html

DEJA DREW:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2012/08/deja-drew-excerpt.html

THE GAZE:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2012/05/gaze-by-javier-arobayoyay-or-nay.html

PGB:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2012/05/javier-robayo-author-of-gaze-steps-in.html

HAUNTED HOUSE, HAUNTED LIFE:

http://simplystick.blogspot.com/2014/10/haunted-house-haunted-life.html



CF Winn is the author of  The COFFEE BREAK SERIES, a hilarious group of short stories meant to be read while on a break or in the waiting room of a doctor's office. Her first novella, SUKI, has been grabbing hearts and hugging souls all over the United States.

THE RULES OF THE ROAD...AND SHOPPING

I'm a very active person. When I'm not traveling around Long Island for work, I'm either driving my kids to activities, coaching, or finding something fun to do; like the time I went to see Brian Weiss.

Brian Weiss is a hypnotherapist who specializes in past-life regression. My husband and I went to see him in NYC, hoping that we could figure out things like why we are so unafraid to use the weird sounding spices when we cook... Maybe we were seamen who imported and exported goods between countries way back when North America was called the New World. (Although based on my current sense of direction, I would've sailed us off the edge of the Earth)

Three hours and several meditations later, my husband explained that he was once a Chinese woman. With a blissful smile, he told me that he had gotten to see his own wedding, but then had died in childbirth. I stood by, jealously listening, then cried for ten minutes before I could confess that I thought I had been a dangerous serial killer. My visions had not been as clear as his, but I'm sure that probably explains why I'm deathly afraid of big burly men named Hank.

Apparently I've been a pretty active person throughout all of my lifetimes.

But here in my present existence, I'm always around people... and then there's the Psychology. I've forever been naturally drawn to what people do and say...it might be because my mother was always asking me, "What the hell is your problem?!"

Ever since SUNY at Stony Brook handed me my degree and pushed me out of the nest, I've noticed some pretty interesting behavioral patterns. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that your driving can reveal a lot about your shopping habits.

Let's take the lady who backed her car into mine at Target. I was waiting to pass her in the parking lot at the same time that she was adjusting her car in her spot. She was one of those perfectionists that have to be absolutely straight and have the same amount of space between the lines on either side of her vehicle before she'll get out and walk into a store. It probably takes the average schmo about thirty to forty-five seconds to park, but Jane Just Right might be out there for three to five minutes...which in car time, when you're waiting to pass, might as well be all afternoon.

I was patient. I had experience under my belt. My mother used to park like that...in our driveway! So I knew to wait it out quietly. Any loud sounds might startle her and ruin her concentration and she'd have to begin all over again. Instead, I daydreamed of double coupons and sale items. I was brought back to reality when I noticed that she was backing up, but not stopping!

I looked in my rear view mirror quickly, but there was nowhere for me to go because there was a car behind me. So I beeped and started screaming, "Hey!" out of my open window.

She kept coming.

There was a customer who was leaving the store. When she saw what was going on, she stopped walking and started yelling and waving her arms. She had to step back to avoid getting hit. At the same time I did my part. I leaned on the horn non-stop...but she bumped right into my car anyway!

I jumped out, livid. I wasn't worried about the car...my dirty, white Ford Taurus had seen better days and in reality, the green paint from her SUV might actually have looked nice with the blue streak my cousin left on my drivers side door when she swiped it as she backed out of my driveway the week before. I was mostly concerned with her killing someone one day.

We exchanged words and I'm sure the question, "What the hell is your problem?!" probably popped out, but without the appropriate experience and educational background, I didn't really expect her to know the answer.

Instead she asked, "Why didn't you beep and let me know you were behind me?"

Really?

My answer: I did. But since your hearing aid wasn't turned up AT ALL, why didn't YOU TURN AROUND AND LOOK BEHIND YOU?!

Despite my witnesses, we were never going to come to an agreement. I didn't have any visible damage, so I took my battered Taurus to a spot and safely tucked it in. Then I went into Target to shop and tried to forget the unfortunate incident.

I was bending down to look at the bottom shelf of one of the clearance end caps...there was a set of crazy European coasters calling me...and I fell over, face first, almost hitting my forehead into the shelf above them.

Someone had backed up into me.

I got myself upright again and turned around to see what had happened. And there she was, Carol Crazy, the same woman from the parking lot, inching her shopping cart every which way, trying to move around in the aisle. She had no idea that she was the one...again.

And that's when I began to make the connection.

On the road, there are the "Bullies"...they race up to your tail and stick there, bullying you until you move, so they can speed up to the back of the next person and do the same thing. When you meet up with them in the supermarket, the Bullies repeat the behavior, even going so far as to bump you a bit with their cart if you don't move right away. Thanks for the permanent scars on the backs of my ankles...

Then there are the "Mirror Drivers" who use their mirrors to screw with you. They slow down when you're merging, giving the illusion of letting you in, but then they speed up as you try to cross lanes. Just like that guy who was just to the right of the canned peaches in Pathmark. He even smiled when you moved your cart over and began to reach out...Yeah, you almost lost a finger on that one...

And what about the people who stop in the middle of the street and have a conversation with their friend? The "Squatters". They position themselves so that no one can pass on either side, as if it's their own personal driveway. And when they're done, they head over to King Kullen and do the same thing...this time using both the shopping cart and their bodies. In either situation, if you tap the horn or say, "Excuse me", you are met with the death look and a silent curse is sent from the Squatters brain to your body..."How dare she interrupt my conversation! I'll never remember the last thing I was saying about my wife nagging me if I have to pull my car/cart over to the side... where I belonged in the first place. May the King Kullen be out of that banana yogurt she loves so much...especially when they're on sale for only forty cents each!"

So the next time I'm in Stop and Shop looking for something on the shelves, and you stand behind me tapping your foot and impatiently willing me to move without ever uttering the words, "Pardon me", know that I KNOW that you don't use your blinker when you want to switch lanes, but instead scream obscenities at me as I pass you, smiling and on my way to the next fabulously fun thing on my shopping list of life.


 




CF Winn is the award-winning author of The COFFEE BREAK SERIES, a hilarious group of short stories meant to be read while on break or in the waiting room of the doctor's office. Her first novella, SUKI, has been grabbing hearts and hugging souls all over the United States.

You can now order SUKI in paperback at BOOK REVUE, one of the nation’s largest independent bookstores, by email at info@bookrevue.com or by calling (631) 271-1442.
Learn more about SUKI at BOOK REVUE http://www.bookrevue.com/localauthors.html

More posts like these can be found at Humor Outcasts and The Patch where she is a regular contributor. 
 

CF Winn is the founder of Winning! Publications, a firm specializing in editing and promotion services for authors. Her latest project is the just released Trailer Trash, With a Girl’s Name, a hilarious and heartwarming story of a boy saddled with a girl’s name and forced into a nomadic existence. Order it now: http://www.amazon.com/Trailer-Trash-With-Girls-Name-ebook/dp/B00IX0MIAO