The Young Men's Tent (Rocky)
When I get back to the young men's tent, what do I find? Storm having a fight with another boy. I can't leave him alone for a moment without him getting into trouble.
And trouble it is, because the young man is bigger than him. Taller, wider, more muscles, and he is pounding on my friend, who is struggling to fight.
Storm actually slaps the other young man.
Around them, are a group of other young men. Shouting. Most of them backing the other young man, but a couple are shouting for Storm.
I'm shouting too. I'm shouting that he's an idiot.
A big idiot, because I know this young man who he's fighting, and whereas Storm is always in trouble, the other young man tends to be in a lot of fights too. Because he's a wrestler.
Storm picked a fight with one of the wrestlers.
I can't believe my friend. He's mad.
I push my way through the other young men, and then head for the two fighting. Grab the wrestler's back, and yank him back.
A fist flies toward my face, but I dodge out of the way.
'Stop,' I say. Talking to the other young man, who's got his hand on Storm's forehead, holding him back while he turns to look at me.
Storm hits out with his fists, and misses every time, mainly because the other young man's arms are longer than his.
It would actually be quite comical, if it wasn't for Storm getting himself into trouble he can't handle once again.
'What did he do?' I ask the other young man, trying desperately to remember his name.
'He called me a wimp.'
I blink, and arch my eyebrows up. 'He called you a wimp so you decided to beat on him?'
The other young man nods his head. 'No one calls me a wimp.'
'He is a wimp,' Storm shouts. 'I asked him if he was going to go swimming in the lake and he shuddered. He's afraid of water.'
Ah, now I remember him. River. River who is afraid of water. It is quite bad really that someone who is named after water is afraid of it, but it's not surprising really. His father and older brother were taken by the river a couple of years ago. But when they were washed up, unlike me, it was found that they'd drowned. River has been afraid of water ever since, won't even go in it much beyond the shallow edge to wash himself.
And Storm is quite aware of this, and definitely knows why he is like he is.
'Tell him you're sorry,' I say to Storm.
'No.'
River lurches around and hits Storm in the face.
'Ow, that hurt.'
'Just tell him you're sorry, before he beats you to a pulp.'
'But I'm not sorry.'
'Storm'
'He's a little runt,' River says. 'I'm going to make him sorry he called me a wimp.'
'I won't ever be sorry for calling you a wimp, wimp,' Storm says, spitting out blood.
'Storm. Are you mad?'
He grins.
I look at River. 'Just let him go. Okay. So he called you a wimp. He's an idiot. Are you really bothered what an idiot calls you?'
'Hey,' Storm objects.
'I suppose,' River responds. 'But I'm not a wimp.' He hits Storm one last time, and then walks away.
I just about stop Storm from running after him.
'You are an idiot Storm,' I tell him. 'I leave you for a short while and I come back and find you in a fight. He could have killed you.'
Storm shakes his head. 'I was winning.'
I snort.
'I was. I had him right where I wanted him. Another minute or two and I would have won.'
'Yeah right.' I drag him outside. 'You need to get cleaned up.'
He looked down at his bloodied tunic. 'Yep,' he responds. And then he shouts. 'I'll go to the lake and have a wash, because I'm not frightened of a bit of water.'
'Storm,' I groan, pushing him away from the young men's tent as fast as I can. 'Do you have a death wish?'
He grins.
'So,' he says as we reach the lake. 'How was your lovely cousin?'
