CHAPTER XXX. TROUBLE IN PARADISE

SCRIBBLERS

C 2004 By Gracie Prior

It was June already and Butch’s household was in an uproar. Aunt Marabella and Cousin Connie were arriving soon to check out a new home since Uncle Herb left them. Butch’s room was turned into a very girly place. His mom had put up pink curtains and adorned the bed with a white chenille bedspread with pink roses. All Butch’s pennants were off the walls. He really didn’t care, but to be put out of his own room was a real sore point.

“Why do I have to sleep in this tiny closet?” he asked his mom. There’s hardly room to move and I might bump my head on this corner ceiling thing.”

“Butch, you know there’s no where else to put company in this house.”

“Then why did you have to invite them?” Don’t I count for anything?”

Mom briskly worked on the dishes while Butch played with his pencil at the table. His homework was overdue and he didn’t care. Let someone else get theirs in on time. He was tired of being perfect. Being good got you nowhere. Not in this family. “Well, why do they?”

“Do they what?”

“Why do they have to come here? They don’t even live in this state.”

That’s just it, Butch. There’s no one in Pennsylvania for them to stay with. Marabella has no other sisters and no brothers. Where can she go?”

“Beats me.” Butch looked at his math book and tried to concentrate. He was good at the times/distance/rate type problems and he gave them his all. Soon the paper was finished.

“I’m going to bed. I don’t want to watch TV tonight.”

* * *

Butch entered the Scribblers meeting with a red face and his hands in fists. Whenever Jimmy or Mary or Terry said anything about their new script, he just grumbled. The first draft and final chapter of the play was almost done. The group finally made a decision. That was to include all the forms of transportation they could get in the play: walkers, horse and carriage, bicycle, scooter, and small car.

“Now we will all go over the script, make corrections and suggestions and pool our ideas. I’ll do the pooling. I like to do it,” Jimmy said.

“Why does Jimmy get to do all the finished stuff?” Butch asked. “I want to put it all together.”

“Jimmy always does it,” Terry said. “Always has. Why break the record?”

“I don’t want to do it, but maybe Jimmy and Butch could do it together,” Mary suggested.

“Awe, forget it. I don’t care. You do it Jimmy.” Butch went to the lawn chair and slumped down.

The rest of the Scribblers organized the papers and gave them to Jimmy. “Let’s go guys,” Terry said. “Say are you going to join the swimming pool this year, Mary? We always get memberships and have a blast.”

“I’ll ask my mom and dad. Sounds great. Wouldn’t it be fun to keep our club going at the pool? We could wear badges or something. I know. We could use those cute blue and pink safety pins like Bitty has on her diapers.”

“I don’t see the point,” Jimmy said. “Why do we want to wear pins?”

“That way people will ask us about them and we can tell them about our club. We can be on the lookout for new members.”

“I think the pins are fine, that’s kind of kooky, but we don’t need any new members. I like things the way they are,” Butch announced from his corner. “Thought you guys were leaving.”

“We are,” Terry said.

“What’s with him?” Mary asked.

Butch knew he’d rubbed his friends the wrong way when he heard Mary ask.

“Butchie has a lot on his mind right now,” Terry defended him. “Ease up, Mary.”

“Who made you boss?” Butch asked.

“We need a break from each other,” Jimmy piped in.

When they were all gone, Butch lay down on the floor rug and cried.

(Next week: summer doings.)