Timmy and the Coin
Heads I win; tails you lose. That was Timmy’s down fall. He was stupid.
There is this part of me that believes all stupid people are faking it to get attention. I guess it was hard for me to fathom that anyone could be that stupid so they had to be pulling my leg. Timmy was faking it. I have no proof but I can feel it in my gut. As they say, ‘bad publicity is better than no publicity’.
And so Timmy played stupid so that at least he would be one of the gang; the stupid guy who fell for all of the stupid tricks and riddles, who never understood any of the jokes and insisted that you continue to repeat them which drained any humor the joke might have had to begin with. Timmy.
During our ‘half-baked’ fantasy games after church, Timmy always played the villain. He was loose with the fists and didn’t fear to let them fly in our direction. We, my best friend Danny and I, were not fighters. We were scholars and adventurers. So, when dumdum Timmy went into a rage and knuckles sandwiches were on the menu, Danny and I would take flight and giggle and laugh as we fled the rancorous behemoth that we had provoked.
The escape! The escape, as we saw it, was far more fulfilling and electrifying than the fight or even the initial taunt. Timmy gave us that. Timmy bestowed on us the chance to live out that epic chase where we could flaunt our running skills, our deft feet leaping over chairs and down flights of stairs. Thank you Timmy. You made my childhood complete.