The TOOL | Teen Ink

The TOOL

February 4, 2016
By DPBOWEN BRONZE, Elizabethtown, Kentucky
DPBOWEN BRONZE, Elizabethtown, Kentucky
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

"’I think I can, I think I can, ‘said the Engine," Mamaw Sherie said.  The house was genial and toasty; the aroma of freshly baked goods always hung in the air, and it was sufficient enough to make your mouth water.  "’I think I can, I think I can,’ said the train as he took on another load," Mamaw continued. We were reading The Little Engine That Could.  As she continued reading I thought to myself I want to be that Engine... I want to be strong too.


"Mamaw Sherie, I want to be strong and tough like that Engine!!" I had said abruptly after she finished the story.
She opened her mouth to speak and then quickly shut it again. All of a sudden a water melon appeared where her mouth was, her eyes lit up like blue sapphires, and she produced an aura of jubilation that eliminated any dismal feelings. She opened her mouth and began to speak. OH no... I should not have done that. Now she is going to go on forever about her childhood and siblings. What she said changed me forever...


What she said was so magnificent, I can remember all (maybe not all, but a lot of it). What she said still makes me "sweat through my eyes." What she said went like this: If you want to be my little engine please hear my words out. Perseverance is the only gift no-one can give you and perseverance is one of the only things no one can take away from you.


Many years later I remember a time where not everything was going my way. I hated it with my entire mind, but the outcome was something I will be grateful for, for the rest of my life.


"I-I'm sorry guys," my biological mother had said. She was walking us outside to a bunch of people in James Bond suits (I when I was young I called suits "James Bond suits). My mother was silently weeping as tears slowly started to form in her celestial blue eyes. She recently had packed our bags for the trip with the social workers.


“I want you all to know that I love you all no matter what happens," my mother had said as she straitened my siblings' and I's clothing. She also dried her tears up and improved her poster. Then she walked us to the car of the social workers. I didn’t know if my siblings knew, but I knew where we were going.


I dithered at the thought when my brother, sister and I had been place in foster homes. The smiles still came, but were to hide the feelings inside. I remember thinking to myself often this can only get worse.


"Sorry guys, we just don’t have a whole lot of room," said Mrs. Judy. Mrs. Judy was one of my many set of foster parents. She lived with Mr. Jerold, her husband, and the other three foster children. I looked at my brother and like me, we were both dead silent. Now my sister is 1 or 2 (somewhere in her toddler years) was just a little baby practically. Let this be the final one I remembered thinking to myself as the car turned into the drive-way. 


2 years later....


I got adopted by the new set of foster parents (who are now my current parents). They may be strict, but they are loving, zealous, and demonstrative; and I know that they will try to do what they think is best for me no matter what I think.


I look back onto this small little journey of my life and I realized that fi I would have given up I would not be here today. As of a matter of fact I probably would've been in another crummy foster home. And most of all this piece of my times past has made me grasp, that I am thankful for what my Parents for what they have done for me and I greatly appreciate them; that is why I love them.


Probably 2 years or so before my adoption I had school bullies. Now these weren't the normal push and shove bullies. They were the ones where when push comes to shove who is going to when.


“Get up dip stick," the bully had said.


My backed ached, my face was cut up, and my knee felt like Jell-O. I'll get up when you become a guy. Oh, wait that won’t ever happen. So, like an idiot I got up. I peered around the corner of the playground building. The kids were screaming loud, the "sports types" were playing kickball, and the teachers were sitting on their benches grading work. Why couldn’t they see this I had thought.


My brother was nowhere to be seen. Even though he was in the grade below mine, my elementary school had these all grade playground days, where everyone goes outside at a certain time to play. Usually it was fun, but not today. What is taking him so long??? You see I had a little problem with these kids (especially the 1st bully) and my money.


THWAK THWAK. The bully had swung his broken tree branch at me (yea that's right he had a tree branch). "You are a wuss Dennis," the bully continued", took your money... too bad I could not take your brothers money too that would have been sweet."


That moment blood rushed to my ears, the sulfur in my mouth disappeared, and the pain in my knee subsided. I'll get you idiot. I swung as hard as I could.


There were two defining cracks that day, the breaking of my ring finger and his tooth. So, also like a dummy I kept on swinging. The other kids started to gang up on me. I had hit them too. We still were fighting and we hardly realized that a dark, tall figure was approaching us.


"What in the world are you all doing?!!!" Mrs. Branham roared.


I remembered that moment. All the broken bones, blood, and bruises. The beauty mark on my hand proves it. Although I do remember two of the most significant things I could tell people to this day: There was a cry of "Dennis you can do it!" I still don’t know who had yelled it. My brother had said he didn’t do anything. So that one didn’t get solved, but one thing did. If I hadn't of decided to keep going in that fight I would have not of learned that I should pick my fights and know when to run. Plus, if I hadn't of kept on going my brother could have been hurt too.

Somewhat during my time at the foster home and my adoption I did have some fantastic moments. This includes the one right now.


The running faucet on my forehead overflowed into my shirt and into my eyes (thus making them burn). The frigid air around me all of a sudden turned solid as the forward in front of me finally decided to rear his leg back to kick. OMG,OMG, OMG!!


"Good try Steve," I said as we interchanged places from striker to goalie (and vice versa). (Striker and goalie are soccer positions) He had let the other team get an easy goal. The game was 20 seconds till it was going into OT. Now usually we would end in a tie, but since it was the end-of-the-season- tournament it would be decided in penalty kicks (every goalie's worst nightmare). Twenty seconds is not enough time. I cannot defend penalty kicks. The lines on my forehead deepened, my heart began to race, and flashes of anguish danced in my mind. I knew we needed to score.


My heart started to leap out of my chest as the ref blew his whistle and Kevin, one of our other strikers, dribbled up the field. Kevin was one of our best player so, everyone thought that he would single handedly take it all the way and score (your typical clutch). When Kevin was just outside the goalie's box (a rectangle in which the goalie has to stay in to defend the goal because he is the only player on the field allowed to consistently use their hands). He reeled back and released his cannon. The shot was picture perfect, right at the corner on the goal, but he missed. Nooooooooooooo!!!! I had thought.  


Note to self: Remember never to think something is not going to happen in sports when playing them, because it most likely it is going to happen.


My heart finally leaped out of my chest and died. The faucet on my head started to run again. I was in trouble.
Coach had told me earlier in the game that they might need me at goalie in the long run, but I didn’t want it to go down like this. We were tied for the best goalies in the league. We both had a total of 14 saves (or something like that).


Tweeeet. A few minutes later the refs whistle blew as the player, that was about two yards away from me, reared back and let her fly. That moment all the planets and stars aliened, an angle kissed the ball, and God said amen, because I dove to the right and blocked the ball (barely, but I did it). This repeatedly happened for an exchange of 3 times (the last time on our side I had to dive for the ball and smashed my head against the side of the goal. I played it off like nothing happened, but my coach new better. He called me over to sit and get a drink of water). The opposing team’s goalie finally let one by (it bounced off the pole and in to the goal is the way it happened). A wave of teammates spewed from the benches while the pride of lions roared from the stands. We all congratulated the kid who made the goal, Steve. Not only did Steve make up for his mistakes at goalie, but he got a lot of respect from his teammates. That is until his mother started to yell "Let's go Stephon (stiff-on), woo!" His face turned bright scarlet.


Like I said before, this is one of my favorite memories of my past. I had made the most of it so I could cherish it forever. I would not have had a runner up trophy for the championship (my team lost in the end) if I had not taken a challenge and hit it in the mouth. I kept going and that is one of the things I really am proud of, because if I keep going I can have more memories like this one.


Steady persistence in a course of action, a purpose, a state, etc., especially in spite of difficulties, obstacles, or discouragement is what perseverance means according to Dictionary.com. This all ties in with being the choo-choo train. Being the choo-choo train is the intimate weapon that cannot be broken, taken, or replaced. It is important to push through things. So, the next time your lungs say to give up and lie down, DON'T; do not ever back down. What I'm trying to say is that not many people have the will to not stop. In matter of fact sometimes even I do not have the will to keep going. Even though I may stop sometimes, I do not go down without a fight. To Persevere Is The Ultimate Weapon In Life!!


All these memories are my lessons. My lessons that have taught me to never give up, but beat the odds. These lessons remind me every day to stand up to that one guy or impress that coach by not stopping on the laps I have to run around the gym. I remember the memories I got from those bullies, my grandmother, and all my past. So, when someone says "I'm done" replace it with "You have just begun". I thank god for leading me down to these paths. I thank my parents, friends, teachers, siblings, etc... Amen.



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.