It was a chilly day, in Savannah, Tennessee. As I rode along on the Buzz Bike, I was really looking forward to getting into the house and warming up. My jeans jacket, over a short-sleeved t-shirt, was doing little to keep the chill out, and my hands were cold.
As I rode down Vine Street, I planned on taking the dirt trail through the wooded area, which would bring me out at the end of our street. I passed two kids, a year or two older than me, who were walking down the street together. I knew them, but I can't remember their names, now.
As I rolled along, I heard one of the kids laugh. A split second later, a water balloon hit me in the back of the head, soaking my hair and the top half of my jacket. I skidded to a halt, and looked back at the guys. One was doubled over laughing, the other gave me a small (apologetic?) shrug.
I turned, and hauled ass for home. I was cold. I was wet. I was mad. And, I was planning revenge.
Vendetta! (...for any Italian readers.)
I got home, toweled off as quick as I could, and changed to a dry shirt and jacket. In the kitchen, I got into the cabinet where my mom saved plastic bags, and pulled out two Wonder Bread bags. I wasn't sure one would work, but I figured if I doubled them they would have enough strength to hold together when filled with water.
So, at the tap, I started filling the double bag. When it was only about half-full, it was as heavy as I felt confident with. I tied the neck off, and went back out to the bike.
As I hit the end of the driveway, I looked back toward Vine Street, and I could see the two kids just turning the corner onto my street. I headed the opposite way, and circled the block, as fast as I could. As I turned onto Maple Street, where I lived, the two older boys were in front of the house 3 doors up from mine.
I accelerated, and was glad to see that laughing boy was to the left. He was my primary target.
As I passed them, I swung the bread bag, half-full of water, at the shoulders of my target. I actually wanted to hit him in the head, where he had hit me, but the water was pretty heavy. It was heavy enough, in fact, that it nearly knocked him to his knees when it hit him.
Of course, it also soaked him, head to toe.
His buddy ran after me, as I tried to recover from the wobble that swinging that much weight sideways had sent me into. He actually caught me, and grabbed the "sissy bar" support of my banana seat. But, instead of knocking me down, or stopping me, he pushed me forward. I rode to my carport, and jumped off the bike. I figured I was safer on home territory.
The two guys turned and walked the other way. I could see that laughing boy was pretty mad, but the other guy seemed to be giving him what-for.
A couple of days later, I ran into to the two of them in the hall at school. I was tensed up, and prepared for a fight.
"Hey, Jon," laughing boy said.
"Hey, man," said the other one.
I never heard another word about the water balloon incident.
I've always wondered if laughing boy's buddy told him that he got what he deserved, or if they both just figured it was funny enough to not worry about. Either way, we were always cordial, whenever we saw each other, but we never really became buddies.