I Have No Fight Left

DEAR SEAN:

I had an unexpected medical emergency that took me out of my job as a first responder. The month before, I found out my mother has cancer. Also, my car broke down. So I can't return to work, and my temporary disability pay hasn’t gone through.

I'm useless. It seems like the world just doesn't want me here anymore. What happens if I give up and send myself same-day shipping to God? Would it truly be a loss?

There's no more fight in me.

DEAR FIRST-RESPONDER:

Little Opie Taylor was dressed for school, finishing up a daily breakfast of eggs, bacon, pork sausage, hamsteak, cheese grits, biscuits with pepper gravy, toast with jam, cinnamon buns, oatmeal cookies, pancakes, whole-fat milk, tomato juice, grapefruit juice, fresh-squeezed Florida orange juice, and a subcutaneous injection of insulin.

He asked his aunt Bee for a nickel. Back in those days, you needed a nickel to buy milk at school. No big deal, Aunt Bee thinks. She gives him the nickel.

It turns out, Opie had already GOTTEN a nickel from his dad, Sheriff Andy Taylor. Come to find out, Opie had been slyly bumming nickels from everyone. Something fishy was definitely up.

Andy tries to ask Ope about it before bed, but Opie pretends to be asleep to avoid the question.

So the next day, Deputy Barney Fife decides to find out what’s going on. Barney is your man when it comes to recon work.

Barney follows Ope and finds out that—gasp!—a schoolyard bully named Sheldon is extorting nickels from him by threatening the subsequent delivery of a grade-A knuckle sandwich to the face.

And so it is, every day, little Ope sorrowfully reaches into his pocket and hands over his milk money.

With me so far?

Barney is ticked. He tells Andy to teach Opie to fight, but Andy says this isn’t an issue of boxing, but an issue of fear. This problem doesn’t stem from toughness, this is about being afraid.

Andy replies with something like: “I don't want Opie to be the kind of boy lookin' for fights, but I don't want him to run from one..."

Andy takes the indirect parenting approach. He tells a story to his son.

Andy takes Opie fishing and tells Opie about his own childhood bully, “Hoady Snitch,” which is, perhaps, the greatest fictional name ever featured on American entertainment with exception of the fictional names of female villains found in classic James Bond feature films.

Andy tells Opie he dealt with his own bully by accepting a punch to the face, and then tearing into his bully “like a windmill in a tornado.”

Opie replies with something like “But, Pa, didn’t it hurt?”

And Andy says, he never even felt it. In fact, he discovered that fear is what hurt more than anything.

Well, the lightbulb came on in Opie’s little head. Opie decides he’s going to deal with his bully, head on.

The next day, Andy and Barney are waiting for Opie to get out of school. They’re sick with worry. Pacing the floor, silent, and constantly checking at the clock. They know Opie has decided to face his accuser, but they aren’t sure what will happen. After all, Opie is just a little boy, not the late Sonny Liston.

In a few moments, Opie shows up in the doorway, clutching his textbooks. He’s got a huge black eye, but he’s grinning from earlobe to earlobe. Chest is stuck out triumphantly.

Andy rushes to his son and says, “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, Paw,” Opie says, happily pointing to his black eye. “Ain't it a beaut?”

“Sure is,” says Andy laughing. “Tell the truth, Barney, did you ever see a purtier one in all your born days?”

Barney looks like he’s so proud he’s about to cry. Because Opie is okay. Beaten up, but he’s okay.

“No, Andy,” says Barney. “I ain't never seen a purtier one. In all my born days.”

“And you were right, Paw,” says Ope. “I didn't even feel it.”

“You didn't?”

“You know what else, Barney?”

“What?”

“I laughed,” said Opie.

Dear reader, I have no words of wisdom, because I am not smart enough. But I have Andy’s words, and they have helped me through some dark days when I had no fight left in me.

“It’s not fighting lessons he needs. I don’t want my son to be afraid.”