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Becca quietly says, “Owen, I’m sorry Storm said that. Is this the first time he’s said something like that?”
Between snot bubbles, he murmurs, “No. Last week he said I made my dad go away.”
I smooth over his hair. “Baby, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you’d make us talk about it, and you get weird when I ask about Dad.”
I sigh, unsure of what to say. Becca glances toward Storm, and Neva gives a thumbs-up. I hope that means he’ll be okay. Or at the very least, that the mayor won’t sue me.
Becca huffs. “The boys were on the outs last week for a day or two, but I thought they were okay, or I would have said something to you before all of this. I didn’t know the details. They were both tight-lipped about it.”
“Owen, he was wrong to say all of that to you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah.”
I sigh. “But it was also wrong to punch and to shove him down the big slide when you know he’s scared of it. You know that, too, right?”
“But—"
“No. No buts. When someone hurts your feelings, it is wrong to hurt their body in retaliation.”
He sits with that for a moment, eyes still glistening. “So, I should have hurt his feelings instead?”
I fight the urge to snort-laugh, but Becca doesn’t. She quickly turns away to hide her reaction, and I’m left fighting a smirk. “No, baby. You tell Mrs. Emerson what happened and let her deal with it. That’s a part of a teacher’s job, just as much as math and science.”
“But he was so mean!”
“Yes, he was. What he said was completely uncalled for, and do you know why he said it?”
“Because he’s a stupid-head.”
Becca jumps in. “Owen. No name-calling.”
He crosses his arms stubbornly. “Well, hewasa stupid-head.”
She pleads with her eyes at me, so it’s my turn, I guess. “He said mean things because he was scared. You talked him into going on the big slide, and he didn’t want to do it. You were trying to help him—I understand that—but he didn’t feel helped. He felt scared, so he attacked you with his words. Does it sound right to attack someone with your fist when all they used was their words?”
Owen sighs like his little bones ache with sorrow. “No.”
“What do we do when we hurt someone?”
“Apologize.”
“That’s right. Do you still want to be Storm’s friend?”
He shrugs. “Not if he’s gonna be mean.”
“Fair enough. But sometimes friends do mean things because they’re acting out their feelings. Maybe they’re scared or maybe they feel sick, and they don’t know how to say it at the time.”Or maybe they’re judging you for having a kid out of wedlock.
“That’s not fair.”
“No, it’s not. But when you’re someone’s friend, you work on your problems together. Storm was absolutely wrong for saying what he said, Owen. There’s no doubt about that. But what you did was much worse. You were the meanest one in this case. Do you get that?”
His bottom lip quivers, and I feel awful for saying that. I know he has a fear of being mean, but he has to understand that what he did was wrong. He squeaks, “I don’t wanna be mean to anyone.”
“Then you shouldn’t go punching people and shoving them down slides they’re afraid of.”
He nods, his eyes wide and full of tears. “I scared Storm.”
