English Language: The Bully
I strolled into the King Kebab restaurant in Haringey, London and sat down at the counter as all of the tables were taken. I picked up a menu and began to look at the various items trying to decide if I wanted to order breakfast or just go ahead and eat lunch.
"Excuse me,"
said someone, as they touched me on the shoulder. I looked up and turned to the side to see a rather nice looking woman standing before me.
"Is your name Adnan by any chance?" she asked me.
"Yes." I responded looking rather confused, as I had never seen the woman before.
"My name is Yeliz and over there is my husband Serdar," she said, pointing to a distant table near the door leading into the toilets.
I looked in the direction that she was pointing but I did not recognize the man who was sitting, alone at the table.
"I'm sorry. I'm, ah. I'm ah, confused. I don't think that I know you two. But my name is Adnan. Adnan Canpolat," I told her.
"Serdar Gulsen. Serdar from Salisbury Secondary School in Edmonton, London?" she asked me.
"I'm really sorry. The name doesn't ring a bell." I said. She turned and walked back to her table and sat down. She and her husband immediately began talking and once in a while I would see her turn around in her seat and look directly at me.
I finally decided to order breakfast and a cup of coffee. I sat there continually racking my brain trying to remember who this Serdar guy was.
"I must know him," I thought to myself.
"He recognizes me for some reason." I picked up my coffee up and took a sip. All of a sudden it came to me like a flash of lighting. "Serdar. Serdar the bull." I mumbled, as I swung myself around on my stool and faced in his direction.
"The bully of my year seven History class," I thought. ...
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I finally decided to order breakfast and a cup of coffee. I sat there continually racking my brain trying to remember who this Serdar guy was.
"I must know him," I thought to myself.
"He recognizes me for some reason." I picked up my coffee up and took a sip. All of a sudden it came to me like a flash of lighting. "Serdar. Serdar the bull." I mumbled, as I swung myself around on my stool and faced in his direction.
"The bully of my year seven History class," I thought. How many times had that sorry man made fun of my small height in front of the girls in my class? How many times had this sorry son-of-a-gun laughed at me because I was unpopular and had no friends? How many times had this big bully slammed me up against the walls in the corridor just to make himself look like a big man to all the other students? Now I felt like a small boy again, humiliated and afraid. After all these years of being a successful and powerful businessman I felt weak and this made me angry.
He raised his hand and waved at me. I stared back, showing no emotions,
"how dare he act like a long lost friend" I thought to myself even though I was angry I was to afraid to show the anger and turned back around and began to eat my breakfast.
"Gosh. He's so' thin now. Not the big fat guy that I remember from back in 1999," I thought to myself. This boosted my morale and I had the sudden desire to confront him, and tell him how he permanently scarred my mind. I rose like an angry mobster, marched towards his table, at rage stomping floor like a giant. As I marched closer and closer to the distant table, all of a sudden I heard the sound of dishes breaking so I spun my head around to see what had happened. Serdar had accidentally hit several plates knocking them off the table as he was trying to get into his wheelchair, which had been parked, in the bathroom corridor while they were eating. I instantly stopped the marching and in a split second all the rage I built up had disappeared. I quickly turned around before I became face to face with Serdar and head back to the counter. I had no idea that he was disabled. The waitress ran over and started picking up the broken dishes and I listened as Serdar and his wife tried to apologize.
As Serdar rolled by, being pushed by his wife, I looked up and I smiled.
"Adnan" he said, as he nodded his head forward.
"Serdar" I responded, as I nodded my head, in return. I watched as they went out of the door and slowly made their way to a large car which had a wheelchair loader located in the side door of the vehicle.
I sat immobile as his wife tried, over and over, to get the ramp to come down. But it just would not work. Finally I rose, paid for my meal, and I walked up to the car.
"What's the problem?" I asked.
"Stupid thing sticks once in a while," said Serdar.
"Could you help me get him in the car?" asked his wife.
"I think I can do that," I said as I grabbed the wheelchair and rolled Serdar over to the passenger door. I opened the door and locked the brakes on the wheelchair. I reached down and grabbed him around the waist and carefully raised him up into the passenger seat of the car. As Serdar let go of my neck I reached over and swung his limp, lifeless legs, one at a time, into the car so that they would be stationed directly in front of him.
"You remember. Don't you?" he said, looking directly into my eyes. "I remember, Serdar," I said.
"I can't tell you how ashamed I am for what I've done," he said in great honesty.
"I guess you're thinking 'What goes around comes around'," he said, softly.
"I would never think like that, Serdar," I said, with a strict look on my face.
He reached over and grabbed both of my hands and squeezed them tightly.
"Is how I feel in this wheelchair how you felt way back then when you were in school?" he asked me.
"Almost, Serdar. You are very lucky. You have someone to push you around who loves you. I didn't have anyone." I responded.
I reached in my pocket and pulled out a business card that had my home telephone number written on it and I handed it to him. "Give me a call sometimes. We'll do lunch," I told him. We both laughed.
I stood there watching as they drove toward the High Road and finally disappeared through the corner streets. I hope he calls me sometime. He will be the only friend that I have from my secondary school days.
