"Your son was in a fight today, Ms. Moon," said Principal West.
I was in his office with Anthony, who was sitting next to me. Anthony smelled of fresh grass, sweat, and blood. His clothing was torn, and there were grass stains along his shoulders and knees. There was a small spot of blood on his shirt. He breathed easily, calmly, staring straight ahead. He didn't appear the least bit upset. This coming from a boy who used to cry if his sister gave him a noogie.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Your son, Ms. Moon, beat up a young man so severely we had to call an ambulance."
I gasped and faced Anthony. Now I could see the tears forming in his eyes. I didn't have much access to my son's thoughts, but I could read auras and body language, not to mention I just knew my son. Knew him better than anyone. And he was scared. Perhaps for what he had done. Perhaps for the harm he had caused. Perhaps for who he was becoming.
The principal continued, "From what I understand - and this has been confirmed by nearly a dozen other students and teachers who witnessed the fight - the school bully, a kid nearly twice the size of your son, and two of his friends were picking on a girl. Grabbing her. Apparently one tried to kiss her. And that's when your son stepped in."
Now my son looked at me for the first time. Tears were in his eyes and there was some dirt in his hairline, but what I saw most was the defiant look in his eyes.
"She was crying, Mommy. She kept asking them to stop. But they wouldn't. They kept picking on her. And no one would help her." He looked forward again, clenching his little fists in his lap. "Everyone's afraid of them, but I'm not."
No one said anything. The principal stared at my son. In complete disbelief, judging by the look on his face. A moment later, the principal continued the story.
Anthony stepped in, pulled the main bully off the girl. And not just pulled. Threw, apparently. The other boys jumped my son. The fight was chaotic. Fists swinging, bodies rolling. No one would help. No one would jump in. It was a third grader against three sixth graders. And then something miraculous started happening. One by one, the sixth graders started falling by the wayside, rolling out of the melee, bleeding and groaning and hurt, until finally my son had ended up on top, leveling punch after punch into the older boy's face. It had taken three teachers to pull him off.
The principal's voice trailed off and he looked again at my son with complete awe. Myself, I had never been prouder.
"The leader is in the hospital. Apparently they're stitching his mouth and replacing some teeth."
Outside, I heard some excited voices in the various offices. The principal rubbed his face and kept staring at Anthony. Finally, he sat back in his chair.
"I've never seen or heard anything like this in my twenty years in teaching, Ms. Moon. What your son did...was very brave, very selfless, very admirable. But I have to suspend him."
"For protecting a girl?"
He smiled gently. "For fighting, Ms. Moon. We have a strict policy on that. The other boys will be severely dealt with, trust me. But let's let things cool off for a few days. Your son has caused quite an uproar. And, of course, there could be legal consequences."
A few minutes later, as Anthony and I exited administration offices, I couldn't help but notice everyone staring after us. The principal, secretaries, students and teachers.
Staring at the freaks.