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Part Three Jon Tilssen looked sternly at his youngest daughter. "Haven't you been studying?" "That's not it," Stacy replied, deftly avoiding that issue. "There are bullies who are taking kids' lunch money. It's a protection racket." "I never heard of such a thing! Have you told the Principal?" "That's what I said." Mrs. Tilssen got up from the table and went into the kitchen to take the biscuits out of the oven, but raised her voice a bit and kept talking. "She said one of the boys misbehaving is the Principal's son." "That's why I don't want to tell Principal Marsh," Stacy said. "Somebody already tried that. He didn't believe them. And they said they would beat up anybody who tells on them." Dane paused between mouthfuls of beef and said, "I'll find these punks and talk to them." "No," Jon Tilssen said. "What would you do? Threaten to beat them up? Or imply it, at least. These are boys — children. You're a grown man. You know kung fu, for pity's sake. It isn't appropriate." "Well, then," Dane persisted, "I'll show Stacy some self-defense moves, just in case." "I won't have you teaching my little girl to fight! No, that's not the way to solve problems. Thinking and talking, that's how you handle human interactions. Not with fists." "Only one thing stops a bully," Dane said, "and that's —" "No," said Jon Tilssen again. "I forbid it. Dane, you're a good person and I love you but there's too much violence in your life and you will not teach that to my baby daughter." He smiled at Dane's youngest sister. "Stacy, you'll have to use your head, and I don't mean be a hothead like you sometimes are." "Have you ever had trouble with bullies?" Stacy asked him. "Yes, I have. When I was ten years old there were three boys who used to chase me home from school every day. I was pretty fast, but one day they caught up with me and hit me several times. I came home crying with a bloody nose. My father, bless his heart, told me to go back out and find those boys and beat them." "Three boys?" Stacy said. "Were they bigger than you?" "Of course they were. Bullies don't pick on someone their own size." "What did you do?" Jon Tilssen smiled sweetly. "Well, you know, I didn't think I could beat up three boys who were bigger than me, and who had already beat up on me. So I went out, full of bluster, and then snuck around the back and hid in the barn for a couple hours. Then I came in and told my dad I had beat up those bullies. He was a well-meaning man but he put too much faith in his fists, and he wanted me to be the same." "But what did you really do about the bullies?" Dane asked. "Nothing. The worst one moved away the next summer, and the other two outgrew their bad ways. One of them was Russ Linderbergen, just down the road. He turned out all right, don't you think?" Dane said, "But four of these boys followed Stacy part of the way home from school. That's not safe, Dad." "What, do you think they were going to attack her? Of course not! She's a girl." "This is Arrowhead," Mrs. Tilssen chimed in. "It's not the big city. People still have good values here and they don't attack women or girls." "Stacy, these bullies," said Jon Tilssen, "they haven't hit any girls, have they?" "Not that I know of," Stacy admitted. But she glanced at Dane and he glanced back at her and there was a silent agreement between them.
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