" L I V E  W E L L.
I T  I S  T H E  G R E A T E S T
R E V E N G E "
The Talmud

" L I F E  B E I N G
W H A T  I T  I S,
O N E  D R E A M S
O F  R E V E N G E "
Paul Gaugin

" N O T H I N G  I N S P I R E S
F O R G I V E N E S S
Q U I T E  L I K E
R E V E N G E "
Scott Adams

He had his favourite wimpy kid to bully. Not me, you understand. I forgot for a moment one day that I was much smaller than him and punched him when he threatened me. Of course, after he recovered from his surprise, he gave me a beating.

His frequent companion was a kid handicapped by polio who seemed to live vicariously through the bully's acts of meanness. I remember the smile on his face as he watched me take the beating as if it were some retribution for his own suffering and physical limitations.

I regarded the beating as a small sign of respect from the bully. He would often throw the wimpy kid to the ground for no reason, sit on his face and pass gas. That was a special delight for his companion. What an unfortunate combination, a bully, a wimpy kid, and a cheering observer, all in one little prairie town. How often must that triangle occur elsewhere?

He felt compelled to leave a path of some destruction. Two young friends and I returned to our campsite on the edge of town to find our cooking gear badly damaged and clear signs of an emptied bladder on our sleeping bags. We knew who did it and that he had discovered our campsite while out of a prowl.

And yes, he derived pleasure and a feeling of special power from using bodily functions as humiliation and destruction tactics. I did take advantage of that in order to gain some revenge later.

He came to our farm on a visit with his grandfather, another local farmer. As he began to empty his bladder behind the barn in the cow pen, I suggested that he try to hit the wire fence with his stream. The pleasure of humiliation, even of an inanimate object, quickly turned to shock as he discovered that the fence was electric. I was already well on my way to the safety of the house!

Revenge is sweet especially when it is ironic. His heavy engineer boots were a major symbol for him of his power and control. He placed them outside his tent on a scout camping trip as a reminder to others of his presence and then slept soundly in his confidence.

In the middle of the night, another kid awoke feeling the call of nature. As he stepped outside of his tent, the first things he must have seen in the glow of the moon were the heavy engineer boots. I can imagine the grin broadening on his mischievous face as he realized the opportunity before him.

A howl of horror and disgust came from the bully the next morning as he boldly slipped his bare feet into his engineer boots; only to quickly pull them off and discover that someone had upped the ante on him in using bodily functions for humiliation. His identity was suddenly very badly soiled along with his bare feet.

That may have been a turning point for him. In later years, I worked with him doing landscaping for a local greenhouse. He was a shadow of his former self. He still looked at me occasionally with unsmiling contempt and requested that I loan him money, all of which I interpreted as his need to have a little control. I endured the contempt and held on to my money.

And revenge continued in small but pleasing ways. He had to grit his teeth through the singing of the "Lord's Prayer" by our very religious boss as she accompanied our daily work of laying sod and planting trees. She said both of us needed it. Maybe so, I was a little slow on forgiveness.

He was a hard worker, always doing his share. There developed between us a mutual tolerance and acceptance, and a good working relationship, occasional mixed with pleasant conversations. I was actually saddened to hear about his passing a few years ago, done in, I suspect, by years of that last vestige, smoking unfiltered cigarettes.