For a while, it really bothered me that I never hit that kid back. I mean, they didn’t take our bikes in the end, and no one was seriously hurt, so in some ways, it was the best possible outcome. But I’m not immune to the testosterone-fueled sensitivities of the male ego. There is something almost prehistoric or animalistic in the male need to be able to handle conflict, to be able to protect himself and others. At the time and for a long time after, I was ashamed that when pressed, I’d failed to protect not just myself, but my little brother as well.
