Mayday (mādā):  An international emergency distress signal used by ships and planes at sea. Origin 1920s: representing a pronunciation of French m'aider, from venez m'aider -"come and help me."

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August 21st - Summer - San Fallcon, California

I am lying on my back up at the top the old Annex bleachers, just under the canopy shade of the ancient announcing booth, where the cement is always the coolest. Killing off the last of my lunch break, just staring up at the clouds in the sky above. Desperately trying to find an imaginary white water wave to ride out here. But even the clouds in San Fall suck so hard, that I can't even pretend to paddle out past the cirrus soup and into the quick currents flowing through the high sky. So instead of surfing the skies, I just lay on my back in my shady spot, glaring up at the legion of lame puff-puff clouds overhead. As they arrogantly float along mocking down at me from far above.

Yet another futile attempt to catch the Zen flow and get back to where I belong, instead of contemplating the current reality of my suck life. I think I might actually go insane if I don't get out of the hellhole that is San Fallcon soon, and back to my normal hell at home. But thanks to forces far beyond my control I am stuck in the suck. Forced to endure the never-ending cycle of crap being dropped on me that is my toilet bowl life. And if I was only slightly smarter, I would understand that this is a metaphor for the totality of my entire existence, and just give up fighting fate and embrace the suck. But unfortunately for me, I am not that bright. Something that I've already proved more than once since I arrived here at the beginning of summer to take up my forlorn watch. And everything about my summer in San Fallcon sucks rocks ...even me.

Today marks the lowest point of my life here yet, my 16th birthday. So suffice it to say, that I hate my life to hell just a little more today than the regular. And if I had only one wish, it would be to get back to the life I left behind in Sunset Beach, to the Kingdom by the Sea. Back to the sacred sea that is always calling to me to ride all the waves that she is sending me ...that I am missing here in hell.

To all my friends, who are all probably out in the water surfing right now. Riding real waves and wondering: "Yo bro, does life get any better than this?"   

And I want to warn them so badly: "No bro, it does not! Cause even the worst day in the water is better than the best day without waves!"   

Because for a child of the tides like me, life without the sacred sea is barely living at all. It's just merely existing on air until I can get back to the salt, the sea, and the sand ...and finally breathe free again.

So while I am lying up top the concrete terraces staring up at the sucky sky, not even able to imagine myself sky surfing the crappy cirrus soup above. I hear the faint susurrus song of the victim bird from down below. When the far cry finally reaches up to me in my shady spot at the top, it is barely above an echo.

"Go away ...leave me alone..."

But of course, I ignore the distant cry from the terraces down below trying to interrupt my Zen. It's not unusual for the old crumbling concrete coliseum to be sparsely populated with groups of brats taking a break from the Annex pool to eat lunch. Out enjoying some of the local hostility, that will pretty much bubble up like hot tar everywhere that children gather without adults around to interfere, making them play nice with others. Or the older kids from the various summer school programs, just hanging out between classes smoking and toking and pretending to be cool. All the while engaging in the typical teen tormenting rites of passage. So the victim bird in the mix will either stand up to trouble and take his first beats. Or he will learn to run a little faster next time, then his coward's life will be set from that moment on.

Unfortunately for me the punking parlay down the way just continues to get louder, intruding into my Zen time until...

"I SAID ...LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE ...YOU FREAKS!"

The final scream slices right through what's left of my Zen like rusty razors. This time the sharp retort is too much to ignore, because it's as clear to me as winter water that this is a girl's voice. A girl who clearly sounds like she is in distress. Now that I know a girl is in the mix, I have no choice but to pay attention to this bullshit down below. So of course what little zen I had left is now completely fucked. And dammit, I really needed my zen time to think through the suck that is my life. Try to figure out how to get back to the beach life that doesn't totally sux rocks. But noooo, thanks to these zenfuckers I am now forced back into the real against my will.  

So I do the slow roll to upright, and glare down the terraces at the punking parlay below, taking the scene in at a slow stare. Almost all the way down at the bottom of the bleachers by the infield grass, I spot three boys facing off against what I assume is the girl in the mix. At a glance, all three boys appear roughly my age ...and I already don't like them.  

The largest of these three assholes is a big barrel-chested looking lout with a buzz cut, dressed out in baggy jean shorts and a white wife beater. I immediately name him "The Muscle". The smallest is a ginger head kid, with a wicked sunburn and smiling steel braces. Him I name "Mouthy". But it's the last of the zenfuckers that causes me pause. A thin skinny sallow-skinned reedy kid, with long greasy hair and a dirty little weasel face to match his filth. This kid practically reeks future registered sex offender, so I immediate slot weasel face as The Creepy Kid.

However, it's the girl in the mix that strikes me as the odd one out in this whole scene. She is just sitting down at the bottom of the bleachers, facing off with the three boys, with her back is to me. So I can't really see her face to tell if she's truly scared of these three assholes or whatnot? But the thing that strikes me as seriously strange about this chick, is that she is wearing a bulky black hoodie, with the hood up over her head. Which out in a 95 degree plus sunny summer day is a little strange, to say the least. So her I name her The Strange Girl.

As I am taking all this in at a glance, the Creep draws my attention as he starts to slowly circle up the bleacher benches on the Strange Girl's left. While Mouthy starts pressing in on her right, clearly trying to distract her from Creepy's move in. With his two cohorts penning their prey in between them, The Muscle drops back and posts up at the foot of the stairs, just below the pending attack to cut off her only escape.  

It's a classic triangulation attack formation, that any wolf pack from here to the Arctic circle would be familiar with. But like all predators, these three zenfuckers forgot something important in the thrill of the hunt. They forgot that there are far worse things than them in the wild world. Unluckily for these three zenfuckers, I am most definitely one of those "worse wild things".  Even worse luck for these three assholes, they have interrupted my zen time to pick on ...or pick up on the Strange Girl? A girl who is clearly not interested in whatever game they are playing.  

And seriously, three guys trying to intimidate one little girl is these assholes idea of a good time? Yeah, that's total bullshit in my book. So I am thinking that this just became the proverbial,"Why don't you pick on someone your own size", life lesson moment. So Happy Birthday to me, time to join the party!

With that decided, I reach back and tug off the tight band holding my hair and shake the mop loose from the topknot it's been living in all day. With my hair hanging down in front of my face, I slow roll my neck side to side to loosen up all those little "take-a-punch" muscles that I am going to need in order to break them before they can break me. Because in my experience there are two kinds of fighters to fear the most: the ones that can inflict the most damage the fastest ...and the ones that can take the most damage the longest. Of the two, I am most definitely in the second category. The kind of kid that can take the pain, and has all the scars to prove that point.  

But still ...three on one? Yeah, I think I could definitely use a little help from an old trusted friend.

So instead of just jumping right away into the fray down the way, I slide my socks off and fist one sock down inside the other. Then take my old trusty-rusty-lucky D cell battery out of pocket and drop it down the chute, where it sits nice and heavy at the bottom of the socks. With a quick flip, I wrap the socks once around my fist with a tight twist. Then check to make sure that my old familiar friend is ready to make some new loving memories. Where I come from, we call this amazingly simple tool of mayhem a "Sock'em*". (*Batteries not included. Some assembly required.) Legal to carry, easy to conceal and handy as hell in an unfair fight. In my humble opinion, nothing bangs brains quite like a sock'em to the dome bone.  

But that comes later, now comes now. And now is the moment I rise up and ride towards the battle waiting for me below. So with the Sock'em firmly in hand, I start my slow descent down the wide terrace steps with heavy measured steps. I want to come down on them at an oblique angle, because I want these assholes to see me coming out of the sun. To feel the shadow of my dark presence looming down over them, pushing fear into their weak little hearts.  

Halfway down the terraces the dark voices inside my head have already decided that my strategy going into this shitshow is going to be a simple one-two-three approach. First I need to take out The Muscle, then The Mouth, and last but not least The Creep, in that order. Of the three, The Muscle is the one that I am obviously concerned about getting out of the way quickly. I can already tell that he is a large lout, with a blubber chest and a thick brick head, that looks like he can take a hit. I know that if I get stuck trading punches with this kid, the other two will come at me from behind. So it is an imperative to take out The Muscle first and fast, and I'm thinking a solid sock'em strike to the throat should do the trick nicely. Hell, even a glancing blow should be enough to take him out of the mix long enough to work the other two over right quick.

The Mouth is clearly the smallest of the three amigos and looks like more of a trash talker than a fighter. So my guess is that he'll run as soon as The Muscles takes one for the team. Then I can go to work on the real threat ...The Creepy. Because my base instincts are screaming at me that of the three, the Creepy kid is the one with the vicious streak and most definitely a "stab you in the back" kind of kid. The Creepy is also the one that I am going to take my time on, and after I get done with him, his sick smile won't ever look the same. I don't know what it is about this kid, but for some strange reason, I suddenly have a burning desire for a brand new necklace made out of Creep teeth. A little memento mori to take back home with me for show and tell on "How I spent my sucky summer in San Fallcon."

The only wildcard left to chance in my battle plan is the Strange Girl in the mix. I am just hoping that she is smart enough to bail out as soon as the fan hits the shit. Me and my trusty little friend Sock'em being the fan of course. As I drop down ever closer to the fray, I start picking up the last fragments of the ongoing punking parlay. 

"...and what part of go away, don't you understand?" The Strange Girl snaps back in response to something I missed in the wind.

"Hey chill out, grim girl, don't be like that."  The Mouthy Kid snarks hard to the clear amusement of his Creepy cohort. "Maybe we're just having some fun joking around with you." 

"Fun for whom? Most definitely not for me." The Strange Girl counters caustically.

"So what gives, grim girl? You down to party or what? Get down...get funky? What's really your sick twist. Who knows maybe I can hook you up?" The Creepy cajoles with his sickly smile. "Com'on girl, you can tell us."

"And why should I tell you anything, you freak?" She retorts with a snort. "What? Cause we're suddenly such good friends?"

"Why? Cause I asked you nicely the first time ...that's why." The Creepy Freak hisses malevolently. The obviously implied message being, the second time he has to ask won't be so nice.

"Then why don't you explain what you mean clearly, so I can understand you? Try using your big boy words this time." The Strange Girl seethes slowly back. I honestly have to admit that I am really starting to enjoy her hate a little. While her hate is not intoxicating to me yet, it is interesting nonetheless.

"Okay, so who you fuck with these days, Batgirl?" The Creepy laughs back at her loathing.

"Obviously not you, Freak." She snaps back on the attack. "There? Does that satisfy your burning desire to know all things? Now feel free to get gone. Oh, and don't forget to take the rest of your freaky little friends with you."

"Why should we, when we are just starting to have some fun?" The Creepy counters coldly. And there is definitely something dark and sinister creeping into Creepy's voice now ...dangerous even.

So with that said, I can already see where this interaction is headed, right into pervy-predator land. Because I already know these assholes only too well. Well, maybe not these ones in particular, but enough just like them. Little predators in training, who seek out the weak and vulnerable. Who only know how to hurt people in order to get their pathetic cries for attention heard. And if I am being honest, with all my myriad of issues growing up I probably would have been just like them. If it wasn't for the right influences converging on my life. Most especially the Old Guards at Sunset Beach, who taught me the rules to be cool. To look out for the little grommets and gidgets in the water. To never start trouble ...but always be ready to finish someone else's. 

But these three assholes still aren't paying me enough attention yet, as they are entirely too focused on the Strange Girl. So with the sock'em firmly in hand, I drop heavily onto the final steps just above the fray and almost within striking distance of Muscles.

"Whazzup with this noise then?" I intone slowl and low. 

The punking parlay comes to a grinding halt because now I have their full and undivided attention. Save for the Strange Girl, who is not bolting out of the mix like she should, but instead sitting stone still and staring straight ahead.

Predictably The Creepy starts immediately acting sketchy, sliding slightly away from Strange Girl. He keeps nodding over at Muscles to step up ...which he does not. So I scowl down an invitation in at Muscles on the steps below me, hoping he'll just make all our lives easier and just charge me without any more talking time. But no such luck, as Muscles is just blinking up at me blankly. Probably still trying to figure out where I suddenly appeared from out of the sun, and what the hell I want. Or maybe it's the giant plus sign that spells LIFEGUARD on my chest that has him confused as to what he is supposed to do.

"I said ...whazzup with this noise then?" I repeat evenly again like I do with my Special Olympian swimmers.  

"You talking to us guy?" The Mouthy sneers up at me with big bug eyes.

He is clearly trying to pull a classic Taxi Driver "Are you talking to me?" moment. But sadly it's an epic fail, as his voice is way too weak, and his big buggy eyes can't get the trademark psycho stare just right. Now that I'm closer I can see Mouthy's sunburn is more of an infection of red dots dusted across his pasty face, so I mentally rename Mouthy McFrecklehead. I judge him to be so weak and worthless, that I can ignore him for the moment and focus my hate back on Muscles and Creepy.

"Obviously." I drone low, slow and steady, letting them feel all my unhappy. "So what the hell are you still doing here, after the girl said get gone?"

"Ah ...nothing?" The Muscle finally speaks, and throws an odd consternated glance up to Mouthy for support on his new found stance of "nothingness".

"Nothing?" I repeat coldly.

"Yeah, nothing?" The Mouth is hesitant now, probably because the Muscle is not stepping up and doing his job.  

I chance a quick glance at Creepy to see if he is edging in on my blindside yet. But he's still stuck on the other side of the Strange Girl, unsure where this is going. And the Strange Girl, who is still not bolting away like she should. Instead she is just sitting there contritely, staring straight ahead not looking at me at all. Maybe she's smarter than the boys, and doesn't want to be able to see my face in order to give a description to the crime scene cops after the bloodbath to come? Not that it would matter much, seeing that I am still stupidly wearing all my Lifeguard gear from the pool. So I won't exactly be too hard for the local swine to find. I'm pretty sure even these three idiots could remember getting smacked around by a guy wearing a giant red plus sign on his chest.

"Yeah, what's it to ya guy? You got some point to make? Or you just trying to make friendly with us or something?" Creepy finally enters the convoke.  

What strikes me wrong about this query is that Creepy looks weirdly hopeful that this might actually be the case. That I would ever make friends with one of his vermin kind, instead of breaking his bones and taking his teeth for trophies.

"No bro, I ain't trying to make friendly with you." Cause I am trying to make enemies! So if you could kindly get with the damn program already and let's dance with the Devil for blood and bones!  

"Then what's your problem guy? You want something or what?" Creepy is starting to get nervous, probably because Muscles still hasn't done his job and stepped in to sort me out yet. But Muscles... who actually hasn't moved a muscle at all, is standing stone still looking very blinky and confused. It occurs to me that these three idiots just might be more than a little stoned, which will make my job so much easier.

"Or what?" I drone back, and all the dark voices in my head are screaming out for blood and bones now.   

Time slows to still as I start to drift towards death. Pushing into Muscles space, edging in ever closer on him for the quick kill shot to the dome bone. I can almost sense the arrival of the mayhem moment. That instant hard look that will tell me it's time to snap the sock'em out and thump Muscles across the throat so hard he won't wheeze right for a week. Who knows I might even get lucky on the backswing and smack the side Mouthy's face for good measure. And then it will be me and Creepy's special time ...and I can really go to work on my new special little friend.

I fully expect The Muscle will finally get the clue and take the opening I've left him. Charge me head down like a mad bull like swinging those big haymakers wildly or the kicking the nut shot. Both of which I am ready for. What I am not prepared for at all is what Muscles actually does instead of attacking outright. Because instead of charging me like he's supposed to do, he takes a stutter step backwards and edges out of my way almost politely. As if he suddenly realized that he was blocking me from leaving, instead of getting ready to throw blows.  

When that doesn't work, Muscles takes another step back and drops off the bleacher steps and down onto the grass. Then looks up at his cohorts in confusion like, "Didn't you just hear what the nice guy in Plus Sign shirt said? Why aren't you moving your ass guys?" 

Now it's my turn to start blinking like a hazer, as it occurs to me that perhaps I haven't been clear enough with these three. So right into the fray I go, pushing up hard on the weak link ...The Mouthy.

"You heard the girl, time for you and yours to kick bricks and get gone." I give Mouthy a solid shove off to the back of his red freckle head sending him sprawling down the bleachers. 

There the message should be clear enough now! We aren't going to be friends anymore, so let's be enemies now!

"What the hell guy!?!" The Mouth stutter stands and glares at me impotently. As if this bug-eyed staring thing he likes so much will suddenly hurt my feelings and sending me crying back from whence I came. Gods of the Sea and Stars, I only wish it was that easy to get back home.

"Are you deaf or something, you little shit? Step up or get gone." I give Mouthy another decent smack off, which sends him spiraling down another two steps to the railing. But this is all for show and distraction. Because what they can't see is the sock'em secreted in my pocket, just waiting for them to come at me so that we can make some loving memories.

"What the hell is your problem guy! This ain't the pool, you can't tell us what to do out here." Creepy seethes back at me, thinking he's slick.

"You're my problem, you creepy little shit." I snap right back on attack at the Creepy, who immediately scrambles down the rows and out of my reach. "You and your little asshole butt buddies down here messing around with this chick. Who already told you to leave her alone at least twice. So you want to play with someone your own size? Just step up, so that I can really become your problem."

With that gantlet dropped both Creepy and Mouthy hop down off the bleachers and down on the grass next to Muscles for protection. Now that they're all back together again, they have the strength in numbers, so I am hoping that they will take the opening and attack. I grip the sock'em knot a little tighter and ready myself for the pending melee. And I can finally feel it happening now ...the dark rage is rising, and my blood is singing slaying songs. Any heartbeat now shit will jump off and get cracking, and bones will break and blood will flow.

"Hell yeah! Let's get this party started!" The dark chorus in my head howls in martial madness. "Ride or die!"   

But what I get instead rocks me right back into "nothingness".

"What a psycho." The Creep sneers up at me.

"Yeah, what a psycho." Mouthy immediately agrees with his cowardice and starts walking away. "Com'on guys lets bounce, I don't need this bullshit anymore."

"See ya later, Maybe?" Muscles actually waves back at me like we're friends.

"Yeah, later grim girl. I'll be seeing ya around." The Creep gives a final laugh farewell. "Have fun with your new boyfriend ...hope you don't get date-raped too hard."

And just like that, I am denied the battle frenzy I so desperately want. As all three assholes are happily trotting away from me like it's all good? What the hell is this shit? No fight? No blood? No broken bones? No sweet release of pent-up hostiles? No new necklace of Creepy teeth for show and tell? Just com'on guys lets bounce, and that's it? End of story? This should not be happening to me this way ...not without a lot more violent interpersonal interaction then we've had so far.  

There is a part of me that thinks that I have finally succumbed to the madness that plagues my bad blood and haunts my life. Because while I know that I can be a little intimidating in my rages. Something has gone horribly wrong in the world, when three kids who are obviously up to no good, just back down so easily from a three on one fight. Then they just turn tail and run without even trying? Two of which combined, Muscles and Creepy, were big enough together to give me a serious run at a nice bloodbath. 

"No! No! NO!" The dark chorus of voices in my head howl back at me. "This is all wrong! Bones must break and Blood must flow! What the hell are you doing Devil!?! They're going to get back up and come back enforce and kill you. Yeah, you should go after them, and hunt them down before they can get more heads!" The slaying song seethes inside my skull. "You should slay them first, before they slay you! Ride or Die!"

"And so ...who are you now?" The sublime feminine singsong slices right through the dark chorus screaming bloody murder inside my skull. And I am dragged back into the current once more, to face the reason I was in the mix in the first place ...The Strange Girl.

"Ah wha?" I turn around looking down into the darkest pair of nightshades, and one of the surliest smiles I have ever faced.

"Ah...hello? And once again, who are you?" The strange girl trills sweetly at me. For a heartbeat her eerie voice takes me slightly off guard. Her voice is high and sweet and has an almost ethereal eerie resonance to it. Like one of those old Hollywood classically classy actress from the Silver Screen days, full of hauteur and imbued with just a hint of something slightly exotic.

"Ah, nobody? I just work here?" I tap my chest proudly, which clearly has LIFEGUARD emblazoned in big bold white letters inside the giant red plus sign. The international sigil that lets everyone know I can add numbers as well as swim super fast, and kiss a corpse back to life if it comes to it.

"Well okay then, Mr. Nobody-I-just-work-here-on-the-burner-bleachers." The Strange Girl smirks slices down at me."So thanks for the entertainment and everything? But I think you can chill down now and be on your way away now."

"No way this is over yet, you'll see."  I shake my head in dismay, more to myself than to the Strange Girl. 

"O'really? Well, that is good news." Just by the tone of her voice, I can tell that she thinks this is a highly amusing concept for some reason. "And please pray tell, just what will I see?"

"Just watch, those assholes are going to get more heads and then they'll come back enforce." I glance back towards the threesome to see how far they've gotten across the long lawn, But they are way far away now almost to the other side of the coliseum greens. "So yeah, maybe on second thought you should probably be on your way back to wherever you came from before that happens."

"Yeah well, I hate to be the one to kill the dream tough guy. But I don't think those freaks actually know any 'more heads'  to come back with?"  She quirks a sly smirk. "So yeah, I think it's pretty safe to say whatever 'this' was, it is pretty much over and done with now."

"And you know this how?" I scowl out at the enigmatic Strange Girl.

"Cause maybe because I've known all those idiots since elementary school?" She tilts a secret smile up at me. "Oh don't get me wrong they're total freaks for sure, and certainly not what you'd call the brightest stars in the sky. But they're most definitely not what you'd call popular by any means. So pretty much the only people they know are each other?" She snorts derisively. "I mean if you could really even call them people at all?"

"Right?" I try to shake off the confusion of what she is spieling at me. "So... I guess then I should probably go now? So, like take it easy then."  Weird Strange Girl, with an eerie ethereal voice and the hot hoodie on a hundred-degree day, who doesn't seem particularly fazed at all by any of this bullshit.

"Oh okay, buh'bye tough guy. Maybe I'll see ya around..."  The light laughter in her cadence as she waves me away from my satisfaction.  "...but I wouldn't count on it."

"Okay, later days..." super Strange Girl. 

I step lightly off the last step and drop down onto the grass below. Then for whatever reason, I turn back to say my final farewell to the mysterious Strange Girl in the nightshades. Only to see something that I do not know quite how to process at all. Because appearing in her hand now like a magic trick, is a long thin white multiple segment nunchuck weapon thingy with a bloody red end. For a split second, I think that she is going to jump-flip down and attack me ninja style. Then beat me to death with her strange Shaolin-nunchuck-whippy weapon of death. But then the segments simultaneously snick-snap together and the nunchucks straighten out into something I've only seen in movies and on TV from time to time.

A blind chick stick?

It's a most surreal moment when it finally hits me that the Strange Girl is blind. That I've been talking to a blind girl and saying stupid shit to her like, "You'll see ...watch and look."  So of course against my will, I blurt out the next most obvious stupid truth to say in this strange circumstance.

"Oh Holy Hell, you're blazing blind!?!" Then everything slowly starts to slide sideways.  

The Strange Girl's head snaps slightly back like she's been slapped, and she frowns down at me through her nightshades. Her quirky smirking smile evaporates away as her lips begin to quiver and tremble ...and she starts to cry.

Oh blaze me! I just made a blind chick cry! And I am such an unbelievable asshole at this moment it's not even funny...