He did wrestling, and he was strong and

powerful. “See the muscles in his arms!” kids

on farms near ours said.

“The muscles in his head are bigger,” I

told them.

Roger heard, and bullied me more than

ever.

I wasn’t strong and powerful like him.

I was small and skinny. Roger used to twist

my arms up behind my back, bend my wrist

backward to make me yell. Stuff like that.

It was my fault sometimes. Roger wasn’t

much good at school, while I was

quite clever with words and stuff.

Even though he was three years

older, he was just one class ahead

of me.

One time, a kid was saying,

“He’s in a class of his own at

wrestling.”

I said, “Yeah, and he shouldbe

in a class of his own at school.”

Roger heard about that, too,

and he put me in a wrestling hold

that I thought was going to break

my elbow.

I could do just one physical

thing better than Roger. I could

swim a long way underwater—

right across our river, from bank

to bank.

MY COUSIN ROGER was three years

older than me. And he was a bully.

There was a special place where all us kids

swam in summer. You got to it by this old

suspension bridge, about fifty feet above the

water.

The bridge was so old, it shook when just

a couple of people walked across. Tractors and

trucks crossed it really slowly. From down

at the river, you could look up and see the

bridge still swaying and creaking after they

had gone.

I started my underwater swimming when

we were all in the river one time, and Roger

was trying to grab me and hold me under.

I dived down before he reached me, and I

Coming Up

by David Hill

Illustrated by Euan Cook
40 text © 2019 by David Hill, art © 2019 by Euan Cook