MAGGIE – C2009 Jojo

Of all the childhood friends I had in Morro Velho, (the Brazilian gold mining community where my family and I lived from 1945 to 1949), the one I remember the most is Maggie McKenzie.

She was a pint sized little girl with brown hair, fierce green eyes, and a pointy chin. I think that even though I was only 8 at the time, I realized that something had to have been very wrong with Maggie’s home life, because she was always angry and aggressive. “I’ll beat you up,” she’d scream, eyes blazing, fists curled up, ready to do battle. For the most part, we’d ignore her threats and put it down to just Maggie, blowing off steam.

However, one day at the MorroVelho Cricket Club, Maggie not only challenged Nancy Brown, her hated enemy, but she threw a punch. This was a mistake – Nancy stood head and shoulders over Maggie, and outweighed her by at least 60 lbs.

A huge fight ensued, with Maggie lying on the ground and Nancy straddling her, landing blow after blow. We all stood in a circle and watched. Everyone but me was cheering Nancy on, having been the recipients of Maggie’s mouthiness, wrath and threats in the past. I felt sick to my stomach, but then violence has always done that to me.

Nancy wasn’t happy with just beating Maggie to a pulp – she demanded a full surrender. “Do you give up?” she screamed. Maggie held on for a long time – too long – while inwardly I was begging her to give up and end this horrible spectacle. Finally she gave in to the inevitable, and admitted defeat.

Nancy got off her, stood up and waved her arms triumphantly while the others cheered her victory and surrounded her, patting her back and praising her. I stood aside and didn’t participate in the celebration. Slowly, everyone wandered off, excepting Maggie and me.

She lay on the ground, curled up in the foetal position, her tiny body wracked with sobs. She had a black eye, her lip was cut and she was covered in bruises. My heart ached for her. I rushed over and helped her to get up. Then I put my arms around her, hoping to console her. But Maggie wasn’t having it. She pushed me away. “Leave me alone,” she yelled, tears pouring down her cheeks, mixing in with the dirt her face has been rubbed in. “Go away!” I had no option but to leave her to her misery and humiliation.

I knew Maggie had started the fight, so logically she had it coming to her. But Nancy had always taunted her, ridiculed her and generally made her life miserable. When Maggie threw that first punch, it was because Nancy had hurled insults at her, which she’d found unendurable.

There was no need for Nancy to have used her bigger stature and greater strength to have taken the beating to the extreme that she did. Not only did she hurt Maggie physically, but what was worse, she robbed Maggie of her dignity, pride and self respect, by demanding a full capitulation. She shamed Maggie in front of her peers.

The damage this did to Maggie is inestimable. She withdrew from the other kids, and became a loner, never participating in our games, never speaking to anyone. I tried very hard to be her friend, but she wouldn’t let me, always muttering to me to go away and leave her alone.

She devoted all her energy and time to swimming, and swam lengths of the pool with the same fierce determination that had driven her all her life. It stood her in good stead. A few years later, her family moved back to England, and Maggie was chosen to swim for England in the next Olympics. I never did find out how she fared and whether or not she won any medals, but knowing Maggie, I wouldn’t mind betting she did. I can’t see her settling for anything less.

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