An "Interesting" Evening (12/23)

Violence is a terrible thing. It's scarring.

Deb and I had gone to see the kiddie's Christmas program at church. We spent lots of time talking, and then decided to walk through the plaza and down a pedestrian street to where we usually catch the bus. The Nutcracker ballet was being put on for the general public, there were lots of Christmas lights, and we were finally feeling in the Christmas spirit. We strolled taking in the sights and sounds. There were more people out than usual and lots of performers taking advantage of the generosity in the air. Deb and I decided to stop and get dinner. Anticucho con papas fritas (kabobs with fries). While standing in the door, we witnessed a harsh reality that I just can't stop replaying in my mind.

The commotion caught my attention, then staged itself on the street in front of the eatery. Apparently, the aggressor felt the youth had stolen something and managed to catch him. He held him on the ground in choke hold, while the youth pleaded, and an old lady screamed her accusations. Only after a second or two did I realize that there was a board involved. The youth slipped out of the choke hold, but not away from the aggressor. With one arm clamped on the chap, he demanded recompense, the youth denied guilt, and the old lady screamed. That's when the hitting began. First it was low and hesitant. But, after a few blows, they were primarily directed at the head and with a fierceness that took my breath. I wanted to intervene. Actually, I wanted someone else to intervene. I couldn't believe we all stood there and watched it. The pleading look on the youth's face as he tried to protect himself is burned into my mind. The sound of the board cracking his head and the knowledge of the wounds being inflicted makes me feel numb. Then all the action left as fast as it came. I stood there stunned for a second. And then I acted like nothing happened and went on with my life.

I wonder about that youth.