Caucasion Trash Rememberance #101

I never got into a fight when I lived in Apple Valley, in the Mojave Desert, but I came close many times. Twice I almost fought Kelly Tyner, a guy who later became my friend when we both got into punk rock, but later became enemies again when I heard he didn't like me, and I had said if he ever came at me I'd hit him with a baseball bat. Kelly didn't like that.

I used to have to ride the bus to school, and because the desert is so big and we lived very far away from school, it took around 40 minutes to get to school. In high school I had made "sort of" friends with a biker kind of guy, Vince, who rode the bus with me and bragged about how he could get pot. He said he lived with his parents, but when I visited his house, it was always completely empty. And he never produced any pot.

One day, after riding home from school, Kelly was waiting at my bus stop, to fight me. Previously, I had asked a big friend of mine to harass Kelly because Kelly had cut in front of me in a water fountain line, and also gave shit to my American Indian friend, Clyde. Kelly never forgot that.

So Kelly was there waiting for me, saying he wanted to fight. I was afraid. Kelly was bigger than me, and still hadn't turned punk. He wore checker board slip-on Vans, O.P. pants, and a terry cloth shirt. Vince was with me. Vince was a biker guy, seemed tough, and was bigger than me. Vince wore a baseball T shirt, jeans, and boots. His wallet had a chain holding it to his pants.I forget what I was wearing, other than fear. Vince was smiling all the time at Kelly, punching his hands into his fist like he was excited there would be a fight. I was a smooth, fast talker back then and said I wanted no fight and that Kelly would kill me and I give up. I always wondered if Vince was on my side, and was perhaps going to jump Kelly if Kelly hit me. I lucked out, and Kelly let me go, after calling me the biggest pussy on the planet. I was ready to accept this designation.

Later, as I walked home from the bus stop, maybe a few days later, I felt things, little rocks or something, hit my legs as I walked. It stung. I didn't know what it was but then I realized something was flying at me from a house across the field which I had to walk by to get home. A few days later, I ventured out toward that house, with my big stick, and walked slowly. The little rocks would hit me, and I would stop, then continue walking. I eventually got close to the house and the rocks turned out to be BB's or some sort of ammo from a low powered gun. Kelly was there with his friend. They asked me, 'what are you going to do, hit us with your stick? We have a gun.'

I was scared, but turned my back and slowly started walking home. They stopped firing. Later, when punk rock became popular and I started a punk band, Kelly became my friend. I saw him get into many fights. We used to party together. Later we had a falling out, and I had to talk my way out of yet another fight with him. "But Kelly, we're friends! We don't need to fight. You'll kill me anyway."