It Happened On The Bus

It was several lifetimes ago, when I was a sophomore in high school, that my Latin class came to Knoxville for a J.C.L. (Junior Classical League) convention. It actually turned out to be more like the Highland Games than a convention, Roman-style of course, which none of us had prepared or, more importantly, dressed for, so we spent our day sitting in the bleachers overlooking the football field at Webb School, sweltering in the sun. After all, it was a school activity; therefore, we were forced to wear school clothes, and by school clothes I mean no shorts and no jeans. God forbid that we could relax and enjoy ourselves, even though it was on a Saturday and was supposed to be "for fun." While the other schools showed up ready to play, we looked like a bunch of misfits who were allergic to fun. I mean, Christ almighty, I had on brand new shoes and my favorite skirt and sweater, so I wasn't going near any dirt. And I'm pretty sure our Latin teacher had failed to read the details on the convention agenda sheet. She, too, was over-dressed for the occasion, in her polyester suit and patent leather high heels. Seriously. There wasn't a shade tree on that campus back then. When we finally boarded the bus for home, we all looked and smelled like wet dogs. No worry about couples making out in the back of the bus. Nobody wanted to get near each other.
But something did happen on that drive home that has stuck with me for...well, forever. The boys - Eddie and Steve and Larry - started this thing where they were making all the girls' names into something "dirty". Of course my name was an easy target - Phyllis became Syphilis. And so it stuck. From that day forward, they called me "S" (they shortened it) and later, "the Big S". Now you'd think I would have hated such an offensive nickname, but I didn't. I laughed about it. They thought they were clever and because I appreciated their humor, I became part of their group. Those very guys became my best friends and my support system throughout high school, and I became "The Big S" to everyone - girls and guys and parents, who had no idea why they were calling me "The Big S".
And those guys? Well, one of them took me to the jr. prom, one of them was my graduation/class-night partner and one of them took me to my first UT football game.
I have to think that on the ride home on the bus that night, if I had reacted in any other way, things would have been very different for me. And I would have missed out on some of the best friends and best times of my life.
Just recently when I found myself at a funeral of a high school friend, and after the service I was standing alone in a long line to speak to the family, I heard a familiar voice booming out over all others.
"It's The Big S!"
And there they were - Eddie and Steve and Larry - still my friends, still as happy to see me as I was to see them, and still calling me the name that started it all.