Stingers

Jack Evans sat at their antique dining room table, salivating as his wife Emily approached, carrying a plate full of steaming mashed potatoes and pork sausage. Laying the plate down in front of him, she asked, “How was your day, dear?”

“It was okay, love,” replied Jack as he stuck his fork into his sausage. “I had Grade 8-B for phys. ed. today. I’ve told you about that little runt, James Clarke?”

Mrs Evans nodded as she gingerly sliced a piece off her own sausage. “Oh, Jack, I wish you wouldn’t be so mean!”

“The boy’s hopeless, I tell you!” exclaimed her husband. “The group played stingers, but he was so scared. Harry Taylor hit him in the chest with the ball, and he went down like a ton of bricks. All he could do was cry. It was hilarious, but it’s also disgusting!”

“My love,” answered his wife, “he’s just a boy. How old is he? Twelve?”

“Thirteen.” snapped Jack, “and when I was his age I was walking barefoot to school in the snow!” His wife rolled her eyes and sighed, as Jack continued, “He’s so scrawny you can see his collarbones sticking out! That ridiculous phys. ed. tank top he wears is miles too big for him! He needs some muscles on him.”

“But, dear. Belittling the boy is not the way to....”

“Nonsense!” he cut off his wife. “A little humiliation is good for anyone! Why, when I was in the army, they made us to do a hundred push-ups in front of our entire squad!”

When Jack Evans got excited, the veins on his massive biceps stuck out under his short white tee-shirt, and the whistle he always wore around his neck bobbed up and down. His wife gave him a reproachful look as it sank into his mashed potatoes.

“I wish you wouldn’t wear that to the dinner table, dear.”

He gave a blush as he plucked it out and sucked on it.

“Yes, dear,” he mumbled. “Wow, this food is fantastic! Did I ever tell you what a wonderful cook you are?”

She just smiled at him. “Oh, Jack. You’re incorrigible sometimes!”

He looked at his wife. She was as beautiful as the day he’d first met her, but she didn’t understand. As a saleswoman at the stationery shop downtown, she didn’t understand what it was like, trying to turn these boys into men. She didn’t have what it took to watch them cry, and just laugh at them, knowing that that was how they grew backbones. And she never would.