Tuesday, March 6, 2012

I miss my jacket.

In fourth grade Enoch stole my Destro figure. I brought it to school to show off. No one else had it yet. Enoch was poor white trash. He always had a shaved head. His mom made his clothes. He never had any food for lunch. Enoch was one of the few kids nice to me. We'd play GI Joe or with Hot Wheels. He asked if he could borrow Destro to show his parents what he wanted for Christmas. I let him take it home.
The next morning he had Destro in his pocket. I asked for it back. He told me that he lost mine and his parents bought him that one. I didn't believe him. I didn't do anything about it.

Eighth grade.
I had a black Denim jacket with blue plaid lining. I wanted that jacket for Christmas. It's the only thing I asked for. To my surprise I got it. I wore it everywhere. At that time the Miami Vice and surfer look was in at our school. Not for me. I had my black Converse all-stars, jeans, black t shirts and that jacket. I wrote James Robison in big letters with black marker on the lining.
This kid named David had an older, faded coat like mine. He asked if h could borrow mine one day. He said he'd kick my ass if I didn't. Not remembering the Destro/Enoch, I gave him the jacket.
The next day he handed me his old jacket. It was a size smaller. It was faded. Verne Robison was written with an ink pen on the tag.
This isn't my jacket I told him.
Yeah it is.
He socked me in the chest and told me to shut the fuck up about it.
I threw his jacket in the trash and walked home.
I told my mother that I kept the jacket in my locker. I walked back and forth to school without a jacket the rest of the winter.
I really need to start standing up for myself.

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