The Howleys

A couple of doors down from the Crofts were the 5 Howley boys. Mr. Howley was one of the nicest men I've ever met, and like most of the men in the neighborhood he was WWII vet. In particular, he was a Marine combat veteran of the Pacific. And (for some reason) he'd taught his sons all of the hand-to-hand combat techniques that WWII Marines were famous for. Now I'm sure he did it with the best of intentions (so they wouldn't be picked on?) but (in my opinion) it was a huge mistake - he really didn't know his sons very well...

I wasn't exactly "friends" with the Howley boys (I don't remember any of their first names) but we usually got along just fine. During the summer we played 'sandlot' ball together almost every day...
Sidebar: Strange but true - there was a time in America when children actually managed to play team sports without adults to schedule, carpool, coach, referee, buy pizza and trophies and scream incessantly. We just went to a corner lot, chose sides and played the game. It was something we called "fun" - a concept most modern children are woefully unacquainted with. But I digress... :-)

I don't know what triggered it, but every once in a while the Howleys would go "Lord of the Flies" on someone. Sometimes they'd just inflict a bit of pain to establish their dominance. And other times it went beyond that - I have no idea why. Which brings me to a very strange incident:

I don't recall how the whole thing started - I just remember that the Howley boys surrounded me and threatened to set me on fire. (Yes - you read that correctly - you can't make this stuff up...) I initially laughed it off. That was a huge mistake. It got less and less funny as they forced me into their back yard barbecue pit, started stuffing newspapers around me and tossing lit matches. To this day I'm not sure what they would have done if the fire had taken off (I'm pretty sure they hadn't thought that far ahead) but I had no intentions of finding out. I managed to break loose, jump out of the pit and take off running - I was faster than any of them, even without all the adrenalin that was coursing through my system...
Unfortunately, the only place I could get to was their garage. There was a loft that was accessible by a rope hanging through a hole in the floor and I managed to get up there before they could grab me.

So we were at an impasse. Even though I had pulled the rope up during a moment of inattention they were still certain they had the upper hand - I'd have to come down eventually and I was assured that when I did I was going back in the fire pit. But I was perfectly happy in the loft. I kept expecting them to 'catch on' but they never did so I finally clued them in: Their father was going to be home from work in a while and when he pulled into the garage I was going to explain exactly why I was up there.
Now, if their was anything the Howley boys were afraid of it was their father, and their focus immediately shifted from trying to keep me up there to trying to get me down from there.
They found a stepladder and moved it next to the hole in the loft floor but I grabbed a shovel that was stored up there, slammed the floor with it a couple of times (it made a frightful sound) and informed them that I was going to play whack-a-mole with the first head I saw pop through that hole. Nobody tried to come up the ladder after that.
Although the Howleys' father had taught them combat skills he had obviously neglected to instruct them in combat tactics - my position was unassailable. I ignored their threats and easily thwarted every one of their 'attacks', and as the clocked ticked down they simply ran out of ideas - their only remaining option was begging and pleading.
They repeatedly assured me that it was "over" - I could "go in peace". I didn't fully trust them but I also really didn't want to get them in trouble - it goes back to that whole "don't tattle" thing. They finally left the garage, I (cautiously) climbed down and true to their word - they stood by and let me leave.

I was certain that they were going to kick the snot out of me the next time they saw me and I avoided them for quite a while. But it wasn't necessary - I don't know if it was out of gratitude or what, but they never messed with me again...
The whole thing had lasted about 2 hours and even though I escaped physically unscathed the fear had been very intense and very real. The funny thing is I'm sure it was all just fun and games to the Howleys - they weren't the 'sharpest tools in the shed' - I don't think they even realized they were bullies...