A Tale From Jim's Earlier Life

         It was barely 10:00 a.m. Jim was already lying on a beach towel soaking up the rays. His face was covered with a stronger SPF, and the rest of his lean body was oiled up. His IPod piped music into his earphones. He had never spent Spring Break at the beach before. That had always been a summer thing. This year was his last year in college, and he had saved up the money to go with his buddies.

         His buddies were back in the rented cottage hung-over in various degrees. Corey had passed out on the way home. When they woke him up, he wretched all over the driveway, then again on the porch. Some of the guys had gotten it up, since they had a deposit on the house that they wanted to get back. Last night, Jack and Danny were okay. Today their heads were splitting. Randall had quite a bit to drink, but seemed none the worse for it today. Only Buddhi and Jim had restrained themselves and felt great today.

         Where was Buddhi? He left the house when Jim did, but they went in opposite directions without explanation. Jim’s plan was to relax early, before the rays were too intense. Someone in his family had had skin cancer, so he wanted to be careful. Then he would swim a little before going in. He didn’t need to girl watch with the others. He had a pretty girl friend who was home working at her regular full-time job.

         Before long Randall showed up, earplugs in. He spread out his towel without speaking, took off his shoes, and sat down to apply lotion. He too lay back with sunglasses on. Finally, he spoke.

“Corey is a sick puppy. He probably won’t be out until this afternoon, if then. Where’s Buddhi?”

         “I don’t know. He came out with his things, but put them on the porch and went off by himself.”

         “Maybe he went for a jog first.”

         “Maybe.” Jim rolled over.

         They both dozed off. After about 20 minutes, Danny showed up.

         “Hey, time to turn you guys. So you don’t burn.” Danny kicked up some sand, and then put down his things. “I took a shot of bourbon. My head is better now.”

         “How’s Jack?”

         “Groaning. Relying on Tylenol. Swears he’s not drinking today. Corey on the other hand is improving, not promising any good behavior, but still pretty green. Where’s Buddhi. I saw his stuff on the porch.”

         “That’s what we’d like to know. Too early to send out a search party.”

         They fell into silence again, three young, lean bodies, glistening with oil, with a golden glow in the sun. Healthy young people, taking a break from work and study, relaxing, carefree, in tune with the roar of the ocean, the salty breeze, the sting of sand blowing in the air, the warmth of the sun. This was life.

         After a long while, Jim got up, his muscles hard and well defined. He dropped his sunglasses and said, “Anyone want to take a dip with me?” He turned without waiting for an answer.

Randall said, “Give me a moment to wake up again. I’ll be there.”

         Jim trod through the water near the shore, the coldness on his feet and legs sending chills through his baking body. As he got deeper out, he waited for a wave, then threw himself in. He alternated swimming and body surfing, since the tide was coming in, and kept washing him back into the shallow waters. It was glorious once you adjusted to the cold.

         Randall sat watching until he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to join in. He stood up and started to go when Jack ran up to him.

         “Buddhi’s in trouble. Come quick.”

         Danny sat upright. “What’s wrong?”


         “I went for a walk down the highway, and there’s a crowd at the convenience store. I went over to see what’s going on. Some guys have Buddhi cornered. They’re calling him a terrorist. Some guys are punching him, and he can’t get away. I tried to help. I couldn’t get close enough. I yelled, ‘Hey, that’s my friend.’ Some guy turned to me and said that I must be a terrorist, too.”

         “So you just left him there?” Randall was furious.

         “I couldn’t do anything alone. They’re mostly just holding him and taunting him. I called 9-1-1. They said they were on the way. I came for you guys.”

         Danny and Jack ran back towards the house and the highway in front of it. Randall screamed for Jim and waved him in when he finally looked. He wouldn’t be able to hear over the ocean roar. Randall couldn’t wait for him. He left everything and ran.

         Jim knew something was wrong. He ran out of the water as best he could and leaving everything else, he grabbed his shoes. The sand was heating up under foot, and he knew he’d need them on the road.

         By the time the first three got there, the police were there, and it looked like a riot. The police were managing to disperse a little of the mob. They got as close as they could without getting near a cop.

         “Buddhi!” yelled Randall. They couldn’t see him. A rescue squad pulled up, dividing the mob. By then, a few men were in handcuffs. Danny managed to squeeze through the crowd and saw Buddhi, sitting on the pavement, holding his face.

         Someone shouted, “ISIS”. Another yelled, “We ought to behead all terrorists, like they’ve done.” A woman yelled, “You invaded our borders. You’re breaking down our country. You’re probably diseased.”

         Jim showed up on the outskirts of the parking lot and saw Buddhi in the clearing. He turned to the woman he saw spouting off her hatred, and yelled back. “He’s not a terrorist. He’s not an illegal alien. He’s not even Muslim.”

         Jack protested, “You can’t judge people by their skin color or their appearance. I hate terrorists, too, but his is the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.”

         “You liberal college boys. You’re all the same, indoctrinated with your left wing, liberal, socialist thinking. You come down here on spring break with you daddy’s money, and you think you’re better than everyone else.” This came from a guy about 30 in sneakers with a beer belly and tattoos.

         Some policemen walked between them waving their hands. “Go on home. Break it up.”

         “Officer, this is our friend, my roommate.” Jim had only shoes and swim trunks from his long run down from the beach.

         “The EMT’s are going to check him out. You can wait with him, but keep quiet.” That officer patrolled the immediate area, while the others took care of detainees and directed traffic to keep passing the store.

         Danny and Jack followed Jim to Buddhi.

         “What happened, Man?” Jim asked.

         Buddhi was letting the EMT clean up the cuts and scrapes on his face and arms. “I came here to get some toothpaste. I forgot mine. Some guy started calling me a F-n terrorist; I should go back to my own country. I ignored him. Then he started pushing me around. I shoved him back. Then a bunch of guys surrounded me and rapping me on the arms, telling me not to be so pushy. So I left the store, rather than get into a fight, but they followed me. Soon they had a whole crowd around me, and I couldn’t walk past them. Someone would grab me and pull me back. I don’t know where they all came from.”

         “Probably Twitter. Cell phones. All their buddies at the beach. Strangers just jump in, I guess.” Randall was shaking his head, standing further back, looking all around.

         A middle aged guy calmly walking by to his car, calmly but loudly told them, “This is what happens when illegal aliens come into our country and threaten us.”

         Jim got to the front the fastest. “This man is not an illegal alien. He’s been here for years and is working for citizenship. He’s not a terrorist, and he isn’t trying to change the laws or do anything immoral. He’s a decent person, who wouldn’t hurt a fly."

         The older man shook his head in disbelief and walked away.

         Buddhi concurred with the EMT’s that all he endured were some scratches and bruises. No one had brutally attacked him; he had endured only minor slaps, pushing, half-hearted punches. His lip had stopped bleeding. Buddhi was small boned and probably only 5’5”, medium dark skinned, with straight, trim hair, and handsome facial features. He did not speak with an accent. He dressed like your average college student.

         The police advised him not to go out alone the rest of his vacation, since the other tourists would still be there as well. The ones arrested for assault or disturbing the peace probably would be out within 24 hours or less.

         The four went back to the cottage a little shaken and angry. Randall decided to go back to the beach and relax. Buddhi suggested they all do that after they explained to Corey what had happened.

         “Oh, man, I’m sorry that happened. Maybe I can make it to the beach with you. Let me grab my towel.” Corey grabbed sunglasses, lotion, and a towel. He put an id in his pocket. He was holding his stomach the whole walk to the beach.

         “Maybe the sun will bake the nausea out of me.”

         The four of them stretched out. Jack asked, “Were you afraid, Buddhi?”

         “Not at first. I just thought the guy was a jerk. Then people started collecting around me, People were calling me names. Nobody asked where I was from or what I had done. They just joined in. Then they started pushing, and sticking me with a finger like I had done something wrong. Some woman spit her drink on me. Then the punch and run started. While one guy was yanking on my arm, a guy came from the opposite direction and punched my face. It just kept building up, and I did get scared. I thought they were gonna pile up on me and just beat me. Then the police siren started, and some of them ran.”

         “If you see any of them again, tell us.” Randall was adamant.

         They raced to the water, with Corey struggling behind, and swam and washed the stress away.

         Later that night, they went out to a restaurant. In the parking lot before going in, a voice rang out, “There’s that Middle Eastern terrorist.”

         All five friends looked around. Danny and Jack stepped close to Buddhi. Randall, the tallest and loudest of them, unmistakably said, “Aw, s*#*! I’m gonna have to hurt someone.”

         Jim was the one standing face to face with the antagonist. “You want to say something, Buddy Boy?” said the stranger to Jim.

         “Apologize to my friend.”

         “If you’re friends with a terrorist, then you must be one, too.” The stranger swung his fist towards Jim’s head, but Jim blocked and ducked. He crossed with a fist to the guy’s stomach.
Two more men came from nowhere, grabbing Jim’s arms and holding him back. The big mouth sucker punched him once to the jaw and twice to the rib cage. By then another young man came over, since it was safe for him, and he punched Jim in the stomach. Randall was trying to pull off the guy holding Jim’s right arm, and managed to throw a few punches at him as he came free of Jim.

         Danny had managed to push Buddhi back into the car, and told Corey to watch the car. Then he engaged the first fighter, getting struck a few times. Jack stopped yet another man from jumping on Jim. A woman suddenly appeared and jumped up on Jack’s back, making it harder for him to defend himself from anyone.

         A car of girls drove up, and not recognizing anyone involved, called 9-1-1. More people coming out of the restaurant stopped to ask what was going on. Getting only half answers or none and getting no truth, most just stood and watched, a few left, and a few joined in. By now, Corey was in the fracas, Danny was dodging two pairs of fists, and Randall had taken a fall to the ground. Jim, who was pretty messed up, kept standing there, blocking punches.

         The sound of sirens sent some people running again. A few cars got out. Most bystanders, who obviously hadn’t thrown any punches, just stood in the background watching. Jim kept getting back to his feet, while fighters kept pairing up against him. It was a losing battle, so it seemed. When the police cars swept up, the actual punchers were still at it. Randall was hurt and on the ground where he had been kicked a few times.

Danny had a bloody nose and a sprained wrist. Jack had fingernail scratches on his head and neck and ears, and hidden bruises from the punches. Corey isn’t much of a fighter, but had his share of bruises and sores. Buddhi was feeling guilty that his friends were hurt because of him. Jim was still taking blows when the police grabbed and cuffed the perpetrators. New charges were made for a new set of thugs, and the EMT’s checked out people from both sides.

         Jim was barely able to stand, and not breathing very well. They gave him oxygen.

         Jim told the police officer, “All we wanted was some dinner. Our friend is from Asia. He grew up a Hindu, but he doesn’t practice any more. He’s not a Muslim, or a member of ISIS. He’s not a terrorist. He’s in the country legally and has been for years. He has a job and is going to college on money his parents saved. He wants to become a citizen. His family came here to escape genocide. They dreamed of independence and equality and opportunity. Now he’s facing the very thing they tried to escape. “

The police officer wrote his notes. The EMT tended to Jim’s vital signs and wounds and asked questions about where it hurt.

         The other housemates were grouped around Buddhi. “We don’t want to fight, officers. But we have to stand by our friend.”

         Jim added, “There’s a lot of ignorance around. People aren’t educated, they aren’t culturally diverse. We’re all very conservative, including Buddhi. None of us like socialism. We’re all patriotic. But we can’t back down. We have to stand up for what’s right.”
The officer nodded his head. “For tonight, just order takeout and go home. There’s a rough crowd here this week. Don’t take any chances. Keep your cell phones with you. And none of you go out alone. I don’t recommend weapons out on the street. Just be careful what you post on Twitter of Facebook. We think from this afternoon, that’s how it all grew so fast. The onlookers were texting. “

         They shook their heads, agreed they didn’t want to go to the hospital. Maybe tomorrow if they weren’t better. Two went in to order, and the other three got back in the car. Life goes on.

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