2X4

The summer after Derek and I’s 7th grade year that we spent every day in our tree fort- a pleasantry that wouldn’t last long. It was our solitude, our escape from the madness we knew as our home lives. Derek would go there to get away from being a burden to his parents. He didn’t want to be in the way of their arguments. I went everyday so I didn’t have to be around the potent smell of marijuana and line of men my teenage sister would bring over while my parents were at work.
It was a peaceful place. We started building it the final month of school. We’d spend every day down in the creek behind our houses from the minute we rode our bikes up to our houses. We got the wood from old sheds and whatever spare lumber we could find lying around the neighborhood. We stole the nails from my dad’s garage. We finally finished building it. It wasn’t stable and was very unproportionable, but it was our hard work and our oasis. The last piece we put up was a 2x4 above the door that read “Hideaway! Philip and Derek only!” We loved it. That didn’t seem to last long though.
“Hey losers,” Sam said. “Come out of there I have something to tell you.”
Sam was a kid who lived at the end of our street. He was our age, yet he was a year behind us in school because you can’t pass the fifth grade if you spend most of it suspended. He liked to bully people and he liked to fight. He spent most of his days terrorizing the neighborhood with the only two people that can stand to be around him and I’m pretty sure they’re only his friends because they don’t want to know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Sam’s rage. Those two were only ever there to back Sam up but would never get involved in anything unless demanded to by their fearless leader.
“Just ignore him,” Derek said.
I peeked over the short wall. Sam sat on his bike, his butt was so large it practically ate the seat and his boxing glove sized hands held onto the handlebars as he rocked his bike back and forth as his friends were playing bumpers with their front wheels.
“I saw your head, stupid,” one of the two said.
“Why are you here?” I asked. “Didn’t you learn not to come around here anymore?”
Sam had been here once before at the beginning of the summer. He spent five minutes bouncing rocks off the walls of the Hideaway. It didn’t last long because Derek got so fed up once one landed inside that he grabbed the rock, threw it like his arm was a slingshot, hitting Sam right in his fathead. I’m surprised his head didn’t explode but instead the rock left a wound straight from Harry Potter itself. He ran home crying, threatening to send his step dad down to teach us a lesson. That never happened.
“I’m here to ask Philip a question,” Sam said.
“Just go away! I don’t want to hear it,” I said.
“I was just going to ask if you knew that your sister was at my house giving my brother head,” Sam said. The two boys chuckled at his instigation.
I couldn’t think of a comeback. There was no clever way for me to tell him to screw off. He had the upper hand. In one move he had checkmated me. I looked at Derek and as if I reached out and high fived him to tag him in he stood up and began a telling Sam off.
“You’re nothing but a fat sack of crap, Sam,” Derek said. “So much crap comes out of your mouth that I can smell it from here.
One of the two dweebs let out a small half second giggle, which resulted in a nudge from the other.
“Why don’t you come down here and say that to my face,” Sam said.
I always wished I could have as much guts as Derek did. It seemed like he was never afraid. I felt safe where I was- in the tree house. But of course, Derek was fearless and quickly climbed out. He put a leg on both sides of Sam’s front tire. He wasn’t as big as Sam, even though Sam was seated. But there something about the way he held himself, his body was like two boards nailed together to make a T when he crossed his arms. I was only looking at the back of his greasy hair but knew that his face was just as stiff and bold as his posture.
“I said you’re fat and your breath smells like crap,” Derek said.
I felt as if I had to back him up, so I slowly slid my way out of the tree fort and onto the ground, still using Derek as my protection, an imitation of the safety of the fort.
“Yeah just get your fat face out of here,” I said.
Sam lunged his bike, but Derek caught the handle bars with one hand to prevent it from slamming into him and shoved his other into Sam’s pudding bag face. I didn’t know how to back him up, so I stood there and watched my friend roll around on the ground wrestling with the kid twice his size. Along with Sam’s dweebs, I had no idea what to do. We stood there and watched, none of us wanted to get involved. Eventually, Derek bested Sam and ended up on top. He spat in his already bloody face. Sam pushed him off and got to his feet.
“You’re going to pay for this,” Sam said. He wiped his nose and picked up his bike. Leaving the creek with his posse.
“You’re not going to do crap,” I said. I quickly turned to my friend who was looking at his scratched elbow. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“Let’s just call it a day,” He said.
That night I laid in bed and thought about how much of a coward I was. I thought about how I couldn’t even backup my best friend. I was angry I had to be protected all the time. I finally fell asleep, replaying the entire event in my head and what I should have said and done differently, how I should have been less of a chicken.
The next morning as soon as my parents left, and my older sister lit her first joint of the morning. I knew it was time go and hideout for the rest of the day. Like most mornings, I sat on the railings of the old broken porch of Derek’s backyard until he came out. As soon as he stepped out of his house we begin our normal morning stroll down to the creek. As we got closer to the creek we heard something. The sound of lumber snapping. Then laughing. Both of us instantly broke into a full sprint, running toward our humble abode. We arrived at the tree fort, or at least what was left of it. Instead of seeing our summer getaway we saw Sam and the other two boys throwing around a pile of wood. One of the boys turned and saw us approaching.
“Guy’s they're here,” he said. 
Derek and I was in a frozen solid state. We stood and there and just watched as the three hurried back to their bikes and rode away laughing.
I couldn’t even sputter a word. I was angry. Derek took a step forward and started kicking around the wood pile. He picked up a couple pieces of wood and examined them. 
“Should we start building again?” I asked.
From the wood he was picking up I knew that it wasn’t possible. Most of the boards had been broken in half. It would take another month to find more lumber. By the time we finished building our summer would be over. Derek chucked one of the slabs of wood into the trees with a large grunt. 
“They aren’t getting away with this,” Derek said.
For the rest of the morning and early afternoon, Derek and I began our revenge plot. I was so nervous just listening to the plan. In my mind it seemed like something out of a heist film. It was risky and could result in me getting the absolute crap kicked out of me. 
“Are you sure you can go through with this?” Derek asked.
I pondered at the question. I didn’t want to look him in the eyes because I already knew he knew I was scared.
“If anything happens we just run right?” I asked.
He nodded.
Derek and I spent the rest of the afternoon collecting the supplies we needed. I used the money I got from mowing the neighbor's lawn to buy a package of water balloons and we filled a couple of them with our own urine. It was absolutely disgusting but Derek insisted on this because it would be more effective. We then went down to what use to be our tree fort and collected some nails from the broken boards. 
We watched from down the block, hiding behind a bush, as the three boys rode their bikes around the end of the block. Watching them made me angrier. They think they had gotten away with what they did. I knew that everything that was about to happen they deserved. It was dinner time and they were all finally called to their separate homes to eat dinner. It was now our time to act.
Their houses all practically neighbored each other’s. We went to the houses of the two boys separately for the first part of our plan. I found the boy’s bike just lying in the front yard. I pulled the nail out of my pocket. I watched the house hoping that nobody would come out of it. All the curtains were shut, and the front door was closed. I put the nail to the back tire shaking and scared that somebody was going to catch me in the middle of the act. I slowly pressed the nail into the thick rubber. As soon as it pierced the round pocket of air, I quickly pulled it out. I smiled as I heard the air hiss out of the tire. I knew that Derek was doing the same thing two houses down. 
“Did it go completely flat?” Derek asked.
“I put a couple holes in each tire,” I said. “Sam’s turn?”
Derek sat the bag containing the two pee filled balloons down on the sidewalk. I don’t know if it was the stench of them or the worry of everything going wrong that made me want to throw up. 
“I don’t know if I can go through with this, Derek,” I said.
“It’s going to be fine. Don’t be a chicken,” he said. “He deserves this.”
As I watched Derek walk up to the house I started shaking more. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to throw the balloons with a shaking arm. I would probably miss. I was so frightened. Sam might actually beat me to death if he gets a hold of me. Derek reached the front door. Raised his fist and beat on it three hard times. The knocks sounded like nails being put into a coffin. Derek quickly ran back to the curb and stood by me. Not but three long, nauseous seconds somebody opened the door. Sam’s step dad.
“Run,” Derek said.
As he took off the chunky ball of rage stepped under the man’s arm onto the lawn.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked.
Derek began taking off running but stopped when he realized I hadn’t moved. He stood a few houses down watching me. I looked at him then back at the two standing on the porch. I quickly reached for one of the balloons and without second guessing threw it. The bag of pee exploded on Sam’s chest. I felt as if my heart was going to do the same with the adrenaline rushing through my body. I began running. Derek waited till I reached him to start running two, but I was so afraid, I was running faster than him. 
“He is chasing us,” Derek said. 
Out of habit I began running towards the creek. Even though I knew the tree fort was no longer there I was drawn to the safety that it once was. Derek was right on my heels and Sam wasn’t too far behind us. I slid down the creek using tree branches to keep me on my feet at my fast descent toward the pile of rubbish. However, Sam caught up to Derek and tackled him, resulting in them both sliding down the hill on their stomachs. As they reached the bottom Sam climbed on top of Derek and held him down with his knees. He began bashing Derek's face with both fists. 
I wasn’t about to stand there this time and watch my friend get the crap beat out of him. I examined my surroundings and picked up the 2x4 that use to hand in the entryway of the fort. 
“You’re nothing but a bully,” I said. “I’m sick of you”
I then slammed the plank into Sam’s back. He stood up off my friend and grabbing his back.
“Oh, you coward,” he said.
“I am not a coward,” I yelled.
It’s like along with every piece of lumber that snapped of the tree house, so did I. I used the board in my hand to hit him in the knee. I then jumped on the Goliaths back and brought him to the ground, recreating the action he was doing to my friend. 
“Philip! Philip! That’s enough,” Derek said.
He pulled me off of Sam. Sam stood up and began sputtering out an apology between gasps and wails. It didn’t mean anything to me. Derek was still holding me back from going back at him. 
“I’m not a coward. If you ever try anything again, I will hurt you,” I said.
Sam began his stumble out of the creek like a dizzy zombie. 
“You did a real number on him,” Derek said.
He let go and I began to calm down. I sat in the dirt and stared at the pile of wood in front of us. 
“How about we go get cleaned up, then we come down and sort the usable wood from the broken then start rebuilding,” he said.
I looked up at him.
“I’m not a coward, right?” I asked.
“Not even a little bit,” he said.