The cricket field stretched out to meet the forest edge a fair distance back. When I was eleven, on a summery Sunday afternoon, I had been sitting on the fence watching the local team play cricket. Neil and Ian were there too. I'd seen them strolling through talking to girls and other friends they knew. I was content to watch the match from my perch on the fence and blend into the background. The warm day brought out the crowd and space had become a premium, I guess. When a noisy, obnoxious group came through, being so small, I just got swallowed up in the melee that resulted.
A disputed call by the official started the ruckus. Then a fight broke out in front of me with two blokes pounding into each other, with no regard for who they might include with their misfires. I didn't duck out of the way fast enough and was shanked by a fist that relieved me of my front-row fence spot. And right onto my left forearm, which managed to find a large rock to land on. Lucky me.
I heard the crack of bone, felt the pain, saw the brutal blows of the two brawlers, and smelled the beer that'd been sprayed about when the first punch was thrown.
I clutched my arm and tried to breathe, crying through the pain, sure that nobody would ever see me, let alone help me out.
I was wrong, though.
The sweetest sound was Neil's voice in my ear saying, "I've got you, Cherry Girl, and you're going to be just fine."
"My arm hurts," I told him through the tears.
"I know, darlin'."
"I heard a noise...like something snapped. Does that mean it's broken?" I wailed.
He picked me up and shouted something to my brother, the anger in his expression darkening his eyes to a frightening black as he eyeballed the two who'd caused my injury. I wouldn't want to be either one of those idiot blokes, confirmed by what I found out a day later.
Neil stroked my hair and sat with me until the doctor could cast my arm. And then, when he actually set the bone. The bone setting hurt, but the gentle reassurance and soft touch of Neil's hand on my hair almost made it cancel out. "Look at me, Cherry. Keep your eyes on me," he'd said with a smile, his hand moving slowly down my head over and over.
The next day, Neil brought some visitors by my house. Armed with humility and the telltale evidence of a second round of beatings, courtesy of Ian and Neil, the two fools responsible for my broken arm arrived with flowers and apologies for me and my panicked mum. My dad had a go 'round as well with them when he returned home from his business trip. Poor bastards didn't stand a chance, and it was safe to say they were scared straight onto a much more righteous path after that.
Neil's actions with me, in my time of need, cemented his place in our family for good. He basically became a second son to my parents, and everyone seemed to understand and settle into this knowledge. I had to accept that Mum and Dad loved Neil too...which meant I had to share him with everyone in my family.
I wouldn't even let my best friend sign my cast until Neil did first. My knight in shining armor.
Back then.