THE GHOST AND THE EARTHBOUND DEMONS

Terry had toughened up a bit before reaching the age of fourteen. That was quite expected, a country boy couldn't survive at Anderson College without developing thick skin. Either you are tough or you get carted off home like Kelly, Nelly, or some other boys Terry has heard of or met. Funny enough, no one ever touches them, but there are other ways of bullying. A more effective but sly way. 

Before getting admitted to Anderson College, Terry had always been told that bullies were arrogant bunches with big sacks of dung and turnips for heads. He found out that wasn't always the case. Most bullies considered themselves sophisticated wits, using savage sarcasm and public humiliation to keep people like Terry in their place. 

Bobby Shit was a prime example. Anyone else with the surname Shit would have had a nickname, but not Bobby. He was too popular to have a nickname...and too dangerous. So, Bobby Shit will always be Bobby Shit. 

For some reason, Bobby decided to take a special interest in Terry. Perhaps this had to do with the incident at the Magna waterfall. Bobby had lost a lot of friends in the mass explosion. Since then, he had vowed to make Terry's life unbearable. Vowed is an understatement. This seemed to be his lifetime mission.  

For years, Terry put up with Bobby's bullying. He kept his head down and walked on by. He always told himself that since they were only words, then he could live with them. And to give him credit, he had been doing that so far. 

Terry reaches a spurt at fifteen, and he shoots like a weed. Instead of up, he started looking down on Bobby. 

Things began to change for him after. Most of the students either become intimidated by his height or have forgotten about their grudges concerning the incident at the Magna waterfall.  Whatever it is, they all avoid him like a leper. And even Bobby's negative comment bounced off him like a stone thrown at a tree. 

That could have been the freedom Terry sought. But he got cocky. One thing fate can't tolerate.

He was heading down to his dormitory one afternoon, whistling softly and smiling. Guess who was coming against him. Bobby Shit and Co. Because of his tall stature and a boost of old confidence, Terry didn't slide over to the wall nor lower his gaze like he ought to. Instead, he gave them his best grin and rolled his eyes. 

Bobby Shit didn't like it. To him, it was like a dog rearing up on its master. Intolerable!

Even though Bobby wasn't sure what to do to this taller boy, with his lapdogs panting at his heels, he had no option but to step into Terry's front. 

"Hey, Worm. Get off my track before I slap that damn smile off your face."

Bobby couldn't look him in the eyes, and this made Terry realize at that moment that Bobby was scared of him. Unbelievable! To celebrate his discovery, Terry pretends to throw a punch into Bobby's face. That sort of thing you do a million times with your friends. But Bobby was no friend of Terry. Terry pretended to smack him, and Bobby flinched. 

This is not a big deal, but to Bobby it is. In Bobby's short, tampered life, this was probably the worst thing that had ever happened to him.  Being caught off guard by a country bumpkin. 

It took some days for the fire in Bobby's cheeks to turn into ice. Then he started plotting. 

Terry, like an idiot, thought that he could stand up to the bully. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Anderson Boy's college grounds stretched down past the basketball court, through a wide meadow, and down to the Orange River. Even though it was forbidden to venture down to the river after dark, there seemed to be an unwritten law that allowed the senior students to convene on the riverbank for a twilight smoke. Technically illegal, but overlooked. 

Out of boredom and a desire for fresh air, Terry put on shirtsleeves and pants, and off he went.  Terry knew he should not have ventured there. Not at this time of night. But his only friend, Jimmy, was sick and would be spending the night in the school hospital. And believing Bobby Shit and his friends would be safe in their dormitory with a blanket over their heads. Terry sees no reason why he should not go to his favorite spot tonight.  

It may seem lame enough these days with all the entertainment young people have. But to Terry, sitting on a riverbank and throwing pebbles into the river was the height of luxury. 

Moments later, Terry's solitude scattered when Bobby Shit arrived. 

Since Bobby never traveled alone, his favorite hyenas hovered around him like bees hovering around a beehive.

Jerry put his hand over his head and then prayed and hoped they would never see him. 

But they did.

Then he reasoned they had another reason for coming here and not after him. After all, what had he done? Nothing. He just pretended to punch Bobby in the face. 

 

They stepped towards him. 

Good evening, Mister Terry. "And how are things among the peasants?" Bobby spoke like one of those fellows reading the news on television. 

Terry didn't answer. It wasn't a question after all. Besides, he realized that whatever he said would give Bobby an excuse to attack him. He decided to stand up to give him a better chance of escape, or attack. 

Bobby placed his right hand on Terry's shoulder and offered a friendly smile. But both boys knew there was nothing friendly in their smiles.  

"What's wrong, peasant? The dog got your tongue? Or your Slut of a mother didn't teach you to always respond to questions?"

Terry gave Bobby the evil eyes, "I'm not a peasant and don't dare talk about my mother." 

Trading insults can be likened to a game of tennis, and Bobby had whacked the ball into Terry's side of the court. The thing was, Terry didn't want to play. How could he when he was outnumbered ten to one? 

"You have grown wing, a bit uppity, and not as subservient as you used to be."

Subservient! Boys didn't often use words like "Subservient." No self-respecting teenager would use a word like that. They felt strange on the tongue. 

"So, I have decided to teach you a lesson you won't be quick to forget," Bobby continued in a slightly louder voice. 

"Huh!"

"Did you have any problem with that?"

He didn't move a muscle. Not even an eyelid.

"Good. I believe you will learn your lesson afterward."

A kind of eerie silence descends after. Even the cricket sawing on the tree shut up at that instant.  

Before Terry could say Jack, Bobby lashed out his hand, and it caught him in the mouth. And at that moment, Bobby's gang descended on him. They were weak enough, never having done any hard work for a day in their lives. But there were a lot of them, and they pinned Terry to the slopes, mud squelching around his ear, and then into his mouth. 

"Hey, Tulip, did you bring the knife I asked of you?" Bobby asked a scrawny-looking boy. 

"Yeah."

"Yeah, what?"

"Yes, Sir."

Bobby can tolerate anything but not disrespect. Even his gang had learned to respect him.

"Give it to me."

"Are you going to stab him?"

"That's none of your business."

Terry fought to free himself, but the gang wouldn't let go. Suddenly, he felt something trickling down his chest before feeling the pain.

"Goddamn it, Bobby. "Did you just stab him in the chest?"

"Get lost, Sissy."

Terry was weak and thirsty when they finally let go of him. He tried to stand up, got dizzy, and was back on the ground immediately. Moments later, he watched as life sipped out of him. It was a long night, and he was afraid he would be dead before daybreak.