One for Campy

Getting bored with whipping everyone’s butts in wrestling matches; Steve scanned the surroundings in search of something to focus his mischief on. Thirty seconds later, he spotted his next victim. Just over the fence was Mr. Campenelli, doing some yard work. Steve relished the tought of another opportunity to harass this assole. Mr. Campenelli was a loud, boisterous, obnoxious, former Mass. State Trooper. Steve hated him with a passion. He enjoyed ringing his doorbell and running and hiding, letting the air out his tires and throwing eggs at his house. Only Steve knew what Mr. Campanelli had done to deserve his wrath.

“ Hey guys, let’s climb up Mike’s oak tree and toss acorns over at Campy,” Steve ordered.

No one questioned Steve. He was the undisputed leader of the neighborhood kids.Every boy around between the ages of ten and fifteen, feared and respected twelve year old Steve. Any that challenged him, soon regreted it. Although, most became his friend and follower.

Scrambling up the tree ahead of the others, Steve started tossing acorns down on Campy. Not scoring any direct hits, Steve’s volley had attracted Campy’s attention, but Campy didn't realize what was happening.

Frantically searching his pockets, Steve realized he had run out of acorns. Frustrated, but not ready to give up, Steve started hollering insults at Campy.

“ Over here stupid. What are you, a dumb guinea? Hey moron.”

Hearing Steve’s taunting, Campy was visibly furious and frantically looking around, trying to see who the hell was doing this to him. Eyeing all of this from their vantagepoint up in the tree, the other boys were laughing and almost falling out of the tree. Fearing that Campy had spotted him, one of the boys panicked. He quickly climbed down the tree and headed for the hills. Now exposed, the rest of the boys bailed out and ran. Steve stood his ground, or rather his air. Continuing his verbal assault for all to hear.

“ Hey Moron.” “ Up here you idiot.”

Campy couldn’t control his increasing anger . Surprisingly, he hurled himself over the six-foot stockade fence separating the yards. Approaching the tree, he demanded that Steve come down.

“Get down here right now.”

Realizing that Campy still doesn’t know who he is, Steve decided to carry this a little further.

“ Climb up here and get me, Fatso, “ came his reply.

Storming around in circles, Campy yells, “Who the hell are you?”

Steve pondered this a moment and yelled back, “Jonathan Raine and you suck.”

Jonathan Raine was a kid Steve couldn’t stand and regularly beat up.

“ Oh Yeah, and where do you live punk?” Campy questioned the suspect.

“ I’m not telling you, but its not Fifth Street or Fourth Street,” Steve volunteered all too easily.

Possessing enough information to track down the little punk’s domicile, Campy stormed off. Deducing that it must be Third Street, he headed over there in search of the Raine residence.

Meanwhile, Steve climbed down from the tree rejoining the boys as they exited from their hiding places.

"Let's go watch the fun," Steve yelled over his shoulder,heading for the woods behind the Raine’s house.

Unable to resist the temptation, the boys followed along to view the rest of the show. Sure enough, Campy came screaming over in his car, still fuming at this punk kid's antics. He stormed up to the door, completely agitated,ready to unleash his fury. Banging loudly, he was quickly acknowledged. Mrs. Raine opened the door and Campy let her have it.

" Your son, Jonathan, was just over on Fourth Street. He and his punk friends were throwing things at me from a tree, cursing at me, calling me all sorts of vile names."

He ranted and raved at Mrs. Raine about her son, Jonathan, repeating all the insults that Steve had thrown at him. Mrs. Raine, when she could finally get a word in edgewise, explained.

“ My son, Jonathan, is away at Hebrew camp.There is no way possible he could have done this.”

Campy was totally embarrassed and frustrated. Steve and the boys were hiding nearby, laughing loudly. Unfortunately, Mrs. Raine heard them.

" Hey , who is over there in the bushes?"

The boys all got up and started to run away, showing themselves. She knowingly pointed over at Steve.

"He is surely the cause of all this commotion."

Steve froze like a deer caught in the glare of headlights and then ran like hell.

In the end, Steve was bagged. When his Dad got home the decree came down. He spent the next week grounded, unable to harass, terrorize and otherwise liven up the neighborhood.