Thursday, December 24, 2009

Chapter X. Port In a Storm

SCRIBBLERS
C 2004 By Gracie Prior
CHAPTER X. PORT IN A STORM
The Scribblers were busy putting the finishing touches on their clubhouse. It was a cool November day. Terry hardly noticed how Mary's hair blew in the breeze as she helped put the last of the tiles on the roof. He saw Butch zip his jacket, look around at the whole scene and say, "This is so great. Look at it. Ain't she a beauty?"
Terry's mind was not on the club house or Mary or Butch. It was very much on his dad who had been sick again. Terry's eyes were red and puffy from lack of sleep. Dad's coughing had kept the whole house up, with Mom running around trying to help him. He was glad Dad was going to a doctor today. Maybe there was something the doctor could do to help.
Jimmy sat on a large rock in Butch's yard. He dangled his feet and observed, "Just like home. Now the Scribblers have a base. Let's give it a name. Something clever. We're writers. We should be up to it."
Butch walked around the clubhouse. "Great idea. Take five everybody and think of a good name."
Terry sat on the ground and Mary and Butch stood. "Why don't we go inside and get the feel of the place," Terry said. "That might help us." His mind was going back and forth, now on Dad, now on a name for the place. The group took his idea and all four crowded in and sat on the floor which was covered by a large area rug cut down and fitted. The clubhouse would be dry inside, even when it rained. Right now it was empty, but there was enough room for chairs, a small desk, and bookcases, the most desirable item. Terry felt the comfort of his friends and he, with effort, took his mind off Dad and put it on the job at hand. "How about 'Comfort Corner'," he suggested.
"Not bad," Jimmy said, brushing dirt off his leg. "I was thinking of 'Scribblers Settlement'. What do you think?"
Butch had his head down deep in thought. He came up out of a seeming coma and said, 'Writer's Block'". They all looked at him. Mary started to laugh. "As a name for the clubhouse, I mean," he said.
"That's bad luck, don't you think?" Terry said. "Mary how about you? We need a fourth choice. Then we'll vote."
"So far, I like 'Comfort Corner,' though it doesn't have anything to do with writing. How about 'Writer's Haven.' I got the word "haven" from a book. It's like a port in a storm. Or we could be artsy and call it 'Havenword,' a place where our words are safe."
"O.K., let's vote. I forgot paper, so we'll have a show of hands. 'Havenword'," Butch said. Four hands went up. "All right then. Tomorrow, we'll get a bottle of pop and Christen the place like a ship. I now declare this first meeting of The Scribbler's society at Havenword officially closed."
(Next time - more of Terry's problem and the play they are writing gets a new twist. See you on Friday. Nancy)

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