Grey Street // H.S.

Chapter 24: Roman

When I was in the third grade there was a boy named Roman in my class, the same class I had with Matt all those years ago. Roman wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before, he was strange and unfortunately for him the majority of the third grade didn't think that was a good thing.

His parents were really into yoga and meditation and were essentially hippies that believed in taking showers. Roman was kind, understanding and very quiet. When the rest of the boys were playing kickball at recess Roman would be at the very back of the field sitting with his legs crossed, humming to himself as he reflected on his daily life as an eight year old.

I remember watching him from my normal spot on the opposite side of the field. Other kids would yell cruel things and push him as they walked by but regardless of the awful children around him he remained focused in his state of relaxation. I remember feeling disgusted as I watched other kids be so outrageously mean and closed minded as Roman did what he had probably done his entire life. I also remember never doing anything to stop the kids, despite the anger I felt toward them, and now thinking back on it I really regret it.

Roman was even better at ignoring people than I was, which is extremely commendable considering my skill in it. He never let the other kids and their rude words affect him. That is, until one day when he finally had enough.

I'm sure it went against everything his parents ever taught him. I'm sure he felt guilty about it the moment he gave into his anger. But the kid was only eight, you can't really blame him.

Anyways, this real jerk of a kid who's name I can't seem to remember ran up to Roman while he was engaging in his normal recess meditation and did what happened almost daily, yelling rude things in Roman's face. There had been a few times where people were physical with him, pushing his shoulders slightly, messing up his hair but for the most part they had been fairly harmless. This kid who was yelling at Roman this particular time had a much more aggressive approach and after minutes of screaming in his face he began to kick him.

I remember standing up from my spot across the field because I had seen enough and I could no longer watch Roman be kicked around for doing something that caused absolutely no harm to others. Just as I was about to storm over there and give the kicking kid a piece of my mind Roman stood up from his position. He looked different than the Roman I was used to, the peaceful kind face was gone and I could tell something dramatically different was about to happen. I watched him as he pulled back his tiny fist and before I could say a word it collided with other boys face. Roman socked the kid right in the eye.

The world can be an unfair place sometimes. The world can screw over the wrong people without much care for anything else and this was one of the first times in my life I experienced that. Roman was the one who got in trouble, Roman who was the one who was yelled at by the principle. None of the dozen of kids who constantly tormented him even had a stern talking to, despite my insistence that Roman didn't do anything wrong. Sure, an eye for an eye doesn't solve any problems but it wasn't fair that Roman got in trouble while everyone else was able to continue their life as they pleased.

Roman didn't stick around for long after that. He and his parents moved to some alternative community in California and I haven't heard from him since. In the end this was probably good for everyone because sometimes places like Brookings can be unforgiving.

I find myself thinking about this fairly often though, how someone so calm and... centered, could snap so suddenly. Even the nicest of people have a breaking point and when they do break it will often shock everyone around them.

"I don't understand why I have to be here too," I hear Harry whine from behind me, interrupting the thoughts of my childhood.

I turn around brieflly, rolling my eyes at him and the fact that he's said that exact sentence at least five times already. After a slightly exaggerated sigh I trek up the nearly falling apart stairs in front of me.