Usual Happiness
It was the first day of the fifth grade and the mahogany-skinned latino, Juan Armoso, sat quietly in the back of the class researching his surroundings. Two years had passed since he moved to America, but everything about this school always impressed him. The walls were covered with colorful numbers starting from one and going to 100, each colored differently: red, blue, green. Juan's eyes began to squint as he examined a painting done by a child the year before. It was of a boy, with no coloring, standing in front of a red bricked house with a black dog, a speck of red hanging out of its mouth. After freeing himself from this "Picasso" painting, Juan thought back to his old school in Tijuana and how the paintings that the children drew there always shared one thing in common, the main characters were always tan or brown. Juan swallowed some spit and made himself comfortable in his chair.
Taking another look around, he stopped at one face that was looking directly back at him, Dillon Giggs, a very big, white, 12 year old that was held back because of his horrible temper. Back in the second grade. Dillon bit a boy's ear for using his favorite purple pencil sharpener. It had his name tagged on the back. Wrinkles emerged in his forehead as his eyebrows lowered over his eyes, staring in Juan's direction. Dillon gently raised his middle finger. Juan turned away quickly, but had no idea what it meant. The bell rang and the teacher started the class, "Hi guys! I'm Mr. Brooks and I'll be your teacher for this year…"
Three o'clock had finally come for the waiting students. The school bell had never given so many kids such relief. The parking lot flooded with cars full of moms and dads, all waiting with open arms for the numerous children that were enrolled. Children sprinting for their parents, jumping for their hugs and kisses. Juan walked alone. Thoughts gathered as he began to remember his parents and how their love was shown a lot differently from what the children were receiving here.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Rain was falling as Juan was running toward his house after his soccer game had been cancelled. Ball in hand, he sprinted in the direction of his house maneuvering under each covering he could find to avoid the constant drops of water. Stopping at the door, his smile faded to a solemn stare while he unlocked it and went inside. The smell was atrocious. Jose Cuervo and Corona's stained the air as Juan quietly passed his father sleeping on the couch. Hopping over bottle after bottle, he was able to avoid his mother drunkenly ironing her husbands' shirts as she swayed back and forth constantly regaining her balance as she grabbed the iron.
Juan made it to his safe zone, his room, and began to undress when he made a mistake. Tripping over his own feet Juan fell hitting his head against the wall, the noise echoed throughout the house. His sight went black as he crouched down and folded his hands together praying not to have awakened the beast. It wasn't enough. The steps were fast and loud, creating tremors after every foot. The door swung open. Juan's eyes met with the monster that stood in his doorway. Eyes, bloody and intoxicated, the beast entered the room and the regular smell of sweat in Juan's room was overcome with the stench that plagued the whole house. "I'm sorry," Juan whimpered as he backed himself into a corner. The door was closed and all that was heard was the constant punches being delivered and the pleas for help that received them.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Juan's eyes focused back on his footsteps as he walked along the path to his front door. Examining the condo he was now residing in, he noticed the peeling paint on the outside. Each piece growing bigger and bigger as they tore apart from the top now reaching the base. Crabgrass was growing along the walkway and in-between the cracks. The front lawn grown thick with weeds and dandelions. The windows were covered with bars on each condo, placed there to eliminate any robberies amongst the neighborhood. They didn't help much. Juan's Aunt Rosalita was the owner of this condo and his guardian. This unkempt and unclean image of the house from the outside was completely contrasted by the cleanliness that was indoors. Aunt Rosalita was a single mother who did everything in her power to give Juan and his five-year-old cousin, Isabella, the life she never had.
Walking inside Juan heard the familiar noise of the vacuum and Rosalita singing along with the Spanish love songs that played out the radio. The vacuum ceased and the music turned down, "Juanito is that you? How was your first day of school?"
"Hola Tia," Juan said as he made his way around the corner, "It was great! I made some new friends!" His face turned hot as he blurted this, making sure not to make eye contact with his Aunt.
"That's great, mi amor. Isabella's been waiting for you to come home all day. Go say hi."
Electricity seemed to flow through Juan as he heard that name, Isabella. Walking toward her room his usual solemn face began to change, turning into a grin reaching ear to ear. Opening the door he saw her sitting on the ground, between her legs numerous toys. She had no care in the world. Juan couldn't help, but smile as he stared at her. She was creating a story in-between her hands and didn't notice Juan as he entered her room. Stuffed animals plagued her bed, ranging from the tiny beanie babies that sat in front to the enormous carnival animals behind keeping watch over everything in the room. Princess dresses were sprawled out all over the floor creating another layer of carpet. Isabella turned and her concentrated eyes faced Juan. "Hi!" Accidentally breaking her concentration, she turned back to her toys and went on with her story. Juan sat down and picked up one of her dolls. Dragging himself over near Isabella he began to participate in the play she was creating.
The next day Juan walked to school with a knot in his throat and his hands moistened by sweat. Juan made a promise to himself the night before that today would be the day he would make some new friends. Two years had passed since he moved to California from Tijuana, leaving his miserable life as a child of abusive alcoholics. Friendships were hard to come by, especially being a different race. Juan’s elementary school did not make it any easier, seeing as he was one of the six Latinos in the whole school. The children would stare and exclude him from any activities they were participating in. Being quiet and insecure, Juan thought it best to just avoid rather than approach any of his fellow classmates, dodging any embarrassment he might receive.
Three classmates stood in a circle in front of Juan as he made his way to class. Sneaking up behind them he overheard their conversation, “What’d you guys think about last night’s Dragonball Z episode?!”
“Dude, it was crazy! I wasn’t expecting that ending!” Juan interrupted as he pushed himself in the middle of the group. They stared at him. Silence fell over all four of them. “Do you guys wanna hear a joke?” Questioned Juan as he attempted to win them back. The silence seemed to envelope the entire school. Juan slowly stepped back and made his way to his classroom, sitting down as the bell rang.
Lunch break came and Juan sat alone underneath the huge oak tree at the far end of the playground. Enjoying his pack of Lunchables, he watched as all the children played. The monkey bars were covered with his small classmates, hanging and swinging, making sure not to hurt one another. Handball courts were filled with rubber balls and children screaming, “underdoggy” or “black magic.” Juan didn’t know what these play terms meant, but knew that he would enjoy them if invited. Taking a bite of his turkey and american cheese sandwich, he was quickly interrupted. “Ola Juan, de ablo english?” Dillon stood above him, with him his posse. Juan was amazed at how poorly his Spanish was and went on eating his food. Kicking Juan’s foot Dillon yelled, “Don’t ignore me buttface!”
“What’s up Dillon? How are you today?”
“Shut up! You shouldn’t be here, no one likes you.”
Juan stood up and asked, sarcastically, “Are you gonna eat my ear?”
Dillon pushed Juan to the ground and grabbed his box of Lunchables. Peering through the contents of the box he noticed the pack of Oreo’s. “I’m gonna take these. Bye.” Sticking his filth covered sausage fingers into the box he grabbed the cookies and threw the rest in the dirt. Juan slowly got on his feet as Dillon and his posse walked away, enjoying his favorite part of the Lunchables, the dessert. Walking toward the backside of the tree Juan sat down with his head between his arms. Heat rose in his face as he held back the ferocity building up inside him. He began to punch the dirt over and over until his fist reddened. A flash of his father beating him swam through his thoughts, quickly stopping his action. Juan faced the outside of the school while behind him his classmates relished in their youth.
After school Juan sprinted home hoping to avoid any further confrontation between him and Dillon. Making it into his room as quickly as possible Juan laid on his bed face down. Images started to flutter through his mind. His parents, before their alcoholism, were caring and loving. The friends he had to leave behind when he left his hometown. The daydreaming was soon interrupted when Juan felt someone lay beside him, someone small. Isabella pushed herself against Juan as he lay there keeping his tears from her. He picked up his head an inch and peered at Isabella, the sunlight hit her face the way one believes to hit an angel. “Hi,” she whispered, “Are you okay?”
Just looking at her created a calm in Juan that made him forget the problems he had just faced at school, “Yeah Izzy. How was your day?”
“Gooood. I watched T.V. and, um, played with my toys and colored in my books! I missed you!” The same smile erupted in her face revealing the window that always made Juan laugh. Her front teeth had just recently fallen out resulting in Isabella’s constant lisp.
“How ‘bout we go to the park? You want to?”
“Okay!”
Juan looked forward to going to the park with Isabella. It relieved him of any stress he felt from school. The sun was enormous and covered more than half the playground. No shade was available to avoid this heat wave, but it did not stop Isabella from having the time of her life. Juan pushed her on the swings as she laughed reaching the top of her swing and screaming as she went backward in the direction she came. Pushing rhythmically, Juan was able to forget about his life as a Latino student in an all white school and just enjoy the fun he was having with his younger cousin. It didn’t last.
“Well lookee here it’s Juan. ‘Sup buddy?” Dillon walked up followed by his three friends smirking as he got closer. “Is this your only friend?” He pointed toward Isabella whose swinging had halted as Juan looked on at Dillon.
“Leave her alone Dillon.” Juan stepped in front of the swing that Isabella sat on protecting her from any danger. Dillon stepped toward Juan stretching his arm toward his chest and moving him aside. He started to push Isabella on the swing. The swing was moving higher than before being pushed harder and harder by Dillon. His laughter drowned out Isabella’s crying. The height was scaring her, “Juan! Juan! Tell him to stop!” Being pushed around by the other kids, Juan was unable to get closer to her. His heart started to race and sweat started to drip from his forehead. Isabella let out one more cry for help and then was pushed so hard that she fell off the swing onto the sand. She lay there crying and Juan noticed the blood starting to spill out the cut on her knee. Juan’s mind went blank.
Leaping through the air, like a lion feasting on his pray, Juan tackled Dillon to the ground. His jabs were quick and repetitive, landing at the exact spots that brought the most pain to Dillon. The nose, stomach, spleen, left rib cage, and the sides of his face. His face turned purple as blood rushed to each hit as if there was any hope to protect him from the pain. Screaming was heard from the crowd, “Stop,” “No more,” nothing fazed Juan.
The sun beat down on Juan's brown skin, causing beads of sweat to trickle down to his lips. He licked them, tasting the saltiness. It gave him comfort. His fists clenched tight becoming discolored, as his grip grew stronger and stronger. The knuckle above the right index finger was scratched revealing the pale skin underneath Juan's natural complexion. It was beginning to redden. Juan looked down at the culprit below him holding his bloody nose. Tears streamed down his cheeks glistening in the sunlight as he stared, horrified, into Juan's eyes.
Juan saw the bruises that emerged on his face and halted his attack. He observed the frightful faces of the crowd that surrounded him. No one said a word, staring at Juan as he maneuvered his way through the crowd. He felt weak and scared. Running from the fight he realized he had forgotten Isabella and turned back to find her following him from a distance. Juan kept his pace and escaped the park finding his way on top of a hill far from any other children. Sitting down on the grass he felt the blades in-between his fingers and watched curiously as ladybugs crawled in and out of hiding. He laid his head back on the grass gazing straight at the sun. Juan closed his eyes and tried to remember what he had just done. Isabella snuck up and tucked herself right next to Juan, she closed her eyes as well. “Izzy, I’m sorry,” he whispered. He had become what he hated most, the one thing that brought him the most pain. Dillon. The Bully. His Dad. They brought him physical and mental pain that lingered in Juan always. Isabella grabbed Juan’s hand, but he quickly pulled away. Keeping his eyes closed he drifted into his imagination hoping to go back to the life that he had before, the life as an outsider.
