Ka Wai Ola - Office of Hawaiian Affairs, Volume 26, Number 3, 1 ʻApelila 2009 — Surviving THE ENEMY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Surviving THE ENEMY

No good be one bully - makefriends mo' betta'

Author's note: Some people's names were adjusted to protect their identities ... and to protect me. jus' in case they neva' like wot I said. What causes a young man to finally stand up to another young man who wants to challenge him? Why suddenly when this engaging young man interested only in cut-offs diving into the mountain streams, listening to songs of

croaking frogs and rustling guava trees of ripened fruit, and the pecking of mejiro dropping seeds in the mud below, gets called out by a tall and skinny freckled-faced, red-headed kid - called Eddie Conway? When my dad died in '57, I lived mostly with Grandma Virginia and Papa Joe. A lot of my skills for survival and endurance I learned from them. Ha'aheo School overlooks Hilo Bay and it's been around well over a 120 years. My mother-in-law, Florence Bothelo, of Kaiwiki went to school there as a young girl, as did Caroline and I, our kids and now our grandkids. The memories of eoming to school "bully-fooly" (barefoot), not worrying mueh about broken beer bottles proved parents were confident that their kids wouldn't eome home with puka feet; but then again, there were the oeeasional barbed wire or rusty-nail poke, of whieh mom always told us, "If you step 'em you betta' tell me so I ean scrub 'em wit' da brush ... don't be tellin' me latah on wen get puss inside. You goin' get lockjaw ... you like get lockjaw?" "No Ma." But Eddie was mo' worse than stepping on barbed wire or rusty nails and getting lockjaw. Eddie could poke holes all ova' your body - he loved to box and wrestle. Every day Eddie would make a stance like Curtis "Da Bull" Iaukea to us Filipinos; but he never messed with the Japanese kids because they would do his homework, but more important, they gave him football seed, li hing mui or crack seed - that was the payoff to keep Eddie off their backs. Eddie had a problem - nobody liked him. Eddie of Ha'aheo was the Eddie Haskell of Leave it. t.o Beaver. but a thousand times worse. First time I met Eddie was in the fourth grade, Mrs. Grune's class. She was a rather beautiful lady, kinda like Liz Taylor, but the sight of Eddie and his sadistic behavior drove her striking with rage like the Wicked Witch of the West in The

ILand of Oz. Nearly every day Eddie would get shuffled between the fourth-, fifthand sixth-grade classes just so the teachers could have a smoke break away from "Chucky." Parents never complained mueh back then about their kids getting hurt in school especially when it involved other kids - 1 guess they felt it was part of growing up, that if we needed to learn lessons, it might as well be in school. It was a beautiful and hot summer day at Nikai Pond, Mā'ili Stream. The stream was

trickling in '65 and the rotten guavas in the mud made perfect mud balls. But when innocent fun of mudslinging turns to embedding gravel or rocks inside, the innoeenee stops. One such ball hit me in the face, then the back, then the back of the head - every whieh way I turned I was being barraged by volleys of mud-bombs. Eddie and the Cortez teens were my executioners. But to save face from crying in front of the girls at Nikai Pond, I gallantly fought back. Losing the battle, I didn't cry - well, at least the mud covered a tear or two. Big Fred, who was the eldest in our Boy Scout Troop 55, waited for me to elean up and head for home. As we were leaving the Nikai Pond, Eddie eame from behind and rammed a fat mud ball filled with rotten guavas, rock and something that smelled like urine to the back of my head. AU I could hear was sheer laughter as I was being tackled to the ground on a bunch of red raspberry bushes. The thorns embedded into my skin - I could feel the burn. As I lay face down in the bush, Eddie stood on my back - laughing, jumping up and down. I turned and he flopped on my stomach and chest and grabbed at my head pulling my hair, pulling me to his face yelling, "Come on, Jimmy ... Come on!" I yelled back, holding back a dam of tears, "I no like fight Eddie ... pleasssse, I no like fight!" Then Eddie took his knuckled finger and drilled deep to the side of my jaw, right on the rotten abscessed tooth - and the unthinkable happened. In such pain, I pleaded, "God please help me, it's soa' ... it's so soa' !" And with such force I shoved Eddie off of me, got on top of him and started pounding away. Even with entangled raspberry thorns and vines stuck in my flesh, I was numb. I saw Eddie's freckled face was as deep red as his hair, never realizing that it was blood. As the Cortez brothers tried to jump in, Big Fred grabbed them by their throats and shoved them away. They

wouldn't mess with Big Fred - he was the "Paul Bunyan" of Wainaku. Big Fred pulled me off - I could feel the rush, the adrenaline whizzing in my veins wanting to satisfy my hunger for more. It was Eddie now lying in the bed of mud, rotten guavas and thorns gripping his broken face. Big Fred watched as I cleaned up and told me, "Let's go home, buddy." Then I asked, as he wrapped his big arms upon my shoulders, "Did I do good Big Fred ... did I win?" He said, "You wen' give him good lickins, but you gotta watch, bumbye you goin' get high-blood pressha'. " "Wot dat, high-blood pressha'?" " 'Ass wen you go nutz and your head explode," he said. "Good. Next time dis happen, wen I gotta fight Eddie again, I goin' explode in Eddie's face." I looked up to Big Fred, who I believe God sent to protect me that day. Everything in life has a purpose and reason for being at a certain plaee and time. Big Fred looked back and smiled, "You nutz, Jimmy." It appears that as I get older, I've become very concerned with the upbringing of my mo'opuna -

Jeno Enoeeneio writ.es about. t.he many hat.s he wears. This is t.hefirst. in t.he Surviving the Enemy series abou.t. facing adversity. Cont.act. him at. point.manjeno@msn.com.

their safety, if they're buckled up, if they are being bullied - or, are they themselves the bully. You teach 'um the best you ean as a parent, give them direction and correct principles as it pertains to the gospel - just hoping that they'll grow up to be God-fearing, loving and decent people and not get into trouble, the kind of trouble that breaks parent's hearts - like prison or death. I'm an advocate for mentoring our kids because I want to save as many lives as I possibly ean. As "Nā Koa" in Vietnam, I saved some lives, but many also perished - I'd like to change that statistic to more saved today than the past. Maybe if Eddie and the Cortez brothers had mentors, as Big Fred was a big brother to me, we would have been pals. I hope Eddie's okay - like me, he should be 58 this year. ■

ĒL www.oha.ors/kawaiola NĀ PĀPALE ■ MANY HATS

By Jimmy F. "Jenū" Enueeneiū

Top: Youth building tender moments with Miss Guūvū. Horses never forget if you hurt them - they know if you're ū good person. Bottom: Moholo to Komehomeho Schools for ollowing me (Kololou Ranch and Victory Gardens) to share this precious land with our keiki o ka 'ōina. - Photo: Courtesy ofJeno Enoeeneio