I Threw A Hatchet At Joey

Between the ages of 5 and 8, I had a friend who lived next door named Joey. Joey was fun to play with. Like all kids, we played, argued, fought, cried, played, argued, fought, cried, played…..

I remember one time we were fighting. I don’t remember why. He screamed something and turned to walk away. As he was about 10 feet away, I saw something on the ground and threw it at him. Didn’t think, just threw. It was a hatchet. Oh shit. 

As it spun head over hilt in slow motion, I registered great alarm. I remember being horrified because I just knew it was about to bury itself right in his back. I’d seen movies. Luckily it didn’t. It bounced with hollow thwack off of his spine and landed on the ground. Of course he screamed and ran inside and I’m sure I got in trouble. 

Point is, I never threw a hatchet at anyone again. Still haven’t and have no concrete plans to do so. I still had the ability at this tender age to learn a lesson the first time without the harshest of consequences. Somewhere, somehow, a few years after I threw that hatchet at Joey, I lost that ability. And then life became a series of repeating loops. 

I thought about that hatchet this morning. I wish I’d kept it. Maybe Joey did.