Chapter XXVI Mrs. Mable

SCRIBBLERS

C 2004 By Gracie Prior

Mrs. Mable Anderson sat under a wide green and white striped umbrella that was in the midst of a cement patio. Her hair was snow white. Her dress was white lace over pink satin. Butch thought the old lady was over dressed for the occasion. She looked very nice though, much younger than ninety. The Scribblers walked baby steps down the big hill, escorted to her table by a servant. “Mrs. Anderson, I am Butch NcNeil and these are my friends who are writing a script for the Sesquicentennial.”

Mary, Terry, and Jimmy came over and shook Mrs. Anderson’s hand. Jimmy gave her a lovely bouquet of spring flowers wrapped in green paper. “These are for you, My Lady,” he said.

Mrs. Mable turned a warm smile on Jimmy. “Why how lovely they are, young man.” She waved to the servant. “Adele, please put these in water and bring them right back. We shall get them spruced up so we can all enjoy them. Now then, children, what can I do for you? Please sit down and we’ll have a chat.”

They all sat down and Mary answered, “My mother, Mrs. Donald Brewster, called to ask if we could talk to you about your experiences in Harrisburg. What was it like to see the first cars? How have things changed? Tell us little stories about the businesses that would interest the town.” Mary had her notebook ready to take notes and the others followed suit.

“The first car.” Mrs. Anderson smiled and paused. “It was such a quiet little town when I was a girl. My sister and I walked from our house at the edge of town to the general store that is right where Murdock’s is now. We saved our money for a long time and bought a little bag of peppermint candy for a few pennies. It lasted a long time. Sometimes our mother would give us a list and we took a big canvas bag and got groceries for her. We always enjoyed the walk back. Once we got home, there were chores to do. Going to the big store was like a holiday for us.

I remember Mr. Farmer, the banker, was the first person in town to get that new fangled contraption called a car. It went up and down the streets making more noise than had ever been heard in these parts before. Great puffs of smoke came out the back, and it rumbled and shook and near scared the dickens out of Sister Maude and me. But in time, more cars came and we all did finally get used to the new monsters. I never drove one myself, but little Maude was a brave girl and when she was older, she gave in and got one.”

Mrs. Mable sipped her lemonade like the ones Adele had brought them all. The flowers made the table a visual feast.

The children listened and took notes for several hours till Mrs. Maude was tired and Adele said they had to go, but could come back at any time.

* * *

Diary Man,

Today was so cool. We met an old lady who was just amazing. She talked on and on about the old times in Harrisburg. I think she liked all of us. We’ll be going back again for more stories. We want to be sure we get all the good stuff she knows. We definitely want to work that noisy rattly car into our play. I just love that part.

Mom and Dad have been getting on my nerves lately. Even though we have the club and privacy, all I get when I go into the house is, “What did you do in your club today?” If we wanted them to know, we wouldn’t need a clubhouse. Not that we have anything to hide. We’re good as gold. It’s just - it would be nice to be treated that way. Suspicious grownups. I’ve had it up to here (note Diary Man I’m pointing to my head.) Mrs. Frumpstead brought cookies as a way to spy on us. Mary figured it out. I thought she was just being nice. Not much gets by Mary. Too bad she’s hung up on Terry. Still, I’m glad we’re all such good friends. I know she would do anything for me. She would. Butch

Chapter XXV. The Towel Game

SCRIBBLERS

C2004 By Gracie Prior

The trees were wearing their stark black coats and frost still hung in the air. It was late in April and time for the annual gym show. Terry was very happy because his group would be tumbling and he would also get to participate in his homeroom activity. This year Mrs. Osgood said it would be either partners’dancing or the towel game. He hoped it would be the towel game, but he really didn’t care. He loved all the parts of the program. His meet in Lindville in December had gone well and several small ones were a success. Each time, Mrs. Osgood added new, more difficult stunts. Terry’s favorite trick was to jump on the trampolette, snatch the open newspaper from Mrs. Osgood's assistant, and finish his flip. That looked flashy.

The living room was a mess. Dad had spent the day on the downstairs bed, and it hadn’t been cleared up. He was relieved that Dad spent most nights in his own bed. The miracle held, at least for now. He grabbed his jacket and called out, “Mom, I’m going to Havenword. See you at dinner.”

He walked to the clubhouse and found he was the last one to arrive. Mary sat on the lawn chair and Butch and Jimmy were on the straight chairs. “Guys,” he greeted.

“Hey, Terry,” Butch answered. “Mary is reporting on our progress about the Sesquicentennial. We are going to talk to a Mrs. Mable Anderson. She is ninety years old. The city was still pretty young when she was born. She remembers Harrisburg before cars came. She remembers it before there were trains.”

“We should bring her a present. If she is going to talk to us, perfect strangers, we should get her flowers or something.”

“We’re scheduled to meet her at two 0’clock tomorrow. I know it will take a Saturday, but we need to get busy. Jimmy, you go ahead and get the flowers. We’ll take the money out of our club fund.” Mary folded her notes and smiled.

“Great job, Mary. Who has something written for the script?” Butch looked around and waited.

“I have taken it on myself to write a preliminary, first draft, non- binding script. It’s all about pioneers, and ladies in long dresses and men with beards and straw hats. I’ll finish it and bring it to meeting next time,” Jimmy said.

“Now that were all here, does anybody know what Mrs. Osgood decided about the gym show?” Terry asked.

“I heard that we’re all going to do partners’ dances and the sixth grade girls will do the towel game.” Butch cleared up the table and arranged the papers in folders. “At least that’s what Barty at school told me. He wanted to do the towel game. He’s not happy.”

Mary had her head in her hands. Terry thought he could see a tear in her eye. “What’s up, Mary?”

“I wish I found this out when I was alone. But since you’re all here, you might as well know. When we did that game in gym, Big Betty took the taped towel and started around the circle, slow like. Then she started hitting me with it, on the bum, but she missed and hit my back. I screamed and ran around the circle but she kept coming at me. I was upset so I ran to the corner of the gym and there she stood swinging that thing in front of me until Mrs. Osgood called us back. If we’re doing that in the show, I’m out. And I wanted to do the Shottish dance, too. It’s my favorite.”

Terry put his hand on Mary’s head. “That isn’t the way the towel game is supposed to work. You were just supposed to go around the circle. “We’ll fix it. I can talk to the gym teacher.”

“No, don’t do that. I’d be even more shamed if you told her. I’ll tell her, but it won’t do any good. Once she’s decided something, it’s decided.”

* * *

Dr. Quentin,
I feel so bad. Mary has a huge problem and I can’t help her. I wish I could do the towel thing for her, but I can’t. Mary’s tough, she’ll be in the show. But too bad it has to be this way. Terry

(Next week. What Mrs. Mable has to say)

Chapter XXIV. New Frontiers

SCRIBBLERS

C 2004 By Gracie Prior

Dear Diary, April, 1959
I am so excited. I went to church with Mary. It was in a spooky place, not like pictures I’ve seen of church. But they sang these songs. They didn’t have songbooks or anything. Everyone just sang. The music was so, I don’t know. It hit me. That’s all I know. I would have been happy to just sing and sing. Mary gave me a Bible book to look at. It had a story about a guy who killed a giant. I’m going to read as much as I can. It’s got tiny letters, but that’s all right. I already read a story about this big boat called an ark. Mary says the stories are true. It’s like my fairy tales coming true, or they were true first. I can’t wait to read more. First I’ll do all the stories that have pictures. Then I’ll just have to jump in somewhere else. Maybe Mary can show me the good ones. When I got home, Mom was nice and asked how I liked church. Dad nodded at me and didn’t make fun. That was good. Oh, Mary’s dad prayed a long prayer at church. I’m going to pray for Dad before bed. Maybe God will help him like he did Terry’s Dad. Only my Dad’s not sick. Just mean. Better hide this. Oops. That’s all.

* * *

Jimmy, Terry, Mary, and Butch got together at Havenword for an important meeting about the novel they were writing. “I think we should put this book away for awhile", Jimmy suggested. "Mary has an idea that’s better for us to work on.”

“I heard from Mom that Harrisburg is going to celebrate a Sesquicentennial this summer and we could write the play. They are going to do a big show at the football field and they will need actors and all sorts of stuff. Mom says they don’t have a play or a script yet. If we volunteer our services early, we could do it. We could show them our other plays, so they can see our writing.”

“That’s a great idea. I’ve always wanted to work on something with history in it. Where will we get all the stuff we need to know, to put in the play?” Butch asked.

“Mom has all that in a little book and she knows some old people we could talk to for details. Plus, we can use the old newspapers at the library. If we all help getting the info, we could do it.”

“We’ll make sure we all have good parts in our own play,” Terry said. It would be just as much fun to act in it as to write it.”

“We should do both. That’s why the book will have to wait. It’s a great book, but this is important now. I vote we go for it. We do both,” Jimmy said. “Who else votes yes?”

Butch, Terry, and Mary raised their hands. “The first thing to do is to tell my mom. She will help us go to the right people to ask to do the script. After that, we look up things up and get notes. Then we write.”

As the group was just breaking up, there was a knock on the door. Butch answered it. It was Mrs. Frumpstead. She held a plate of cookies. She turned her head to see as much as she could to the right and to the left.

“Won’t you come in, Mrs. Frumpstead?” Butch asked. He held the door wide open for her.
She entered and gave the cookies to Butch. Besides looking all around, she gave each Scribbler a fake smile. Mary got the strangest look, almost a smirk. “Are you children having fun?”

“Yes, we are, thank you Mrs. Frumpstead,” Mary answered. “Sit down and have a cookie.”

“Oh, I must be going. I just wanted to bring a little surprise.” She left and went back to her house.

When they were all alone together munching cookies, Mary answered, “Surprise noted, Mrs. Frumpstead.”

(Next week the Scribblers start their new enterprise.)

Chapter XXIII. Amazing Opportunity

SCRIBBLERS

C 2004 By Gracie Prior

The Easter sun came up fairly shouting as Jimmy looked out the window at the new crocuses. He was all excited because he was going to church with Mary and her parents. He had a suit on that he didn’t wear very often. It was a bit short in the legs, but not too bad. He had shined his shoes the night before. His mom put a handkerchief in the jacket pocket just before he left. He walked over to Mary’s. He called her and she appeared in a pretty dress printed with purple and peach butterflies. She wasn’t wearing socks, but had bare legs he thought, and shiny little shoes. “Mary, you look so pretty. I like the hat.” It was broad brimmed with a purple ribbon around it and trailing behind.

“Thanks, Jimmy. You look great too. Mr. and Mrs. Brewster came hurrying out of the house. They all got into the blue Chevrolet with Jimmy and Mary in back. It was Easter Sunday. Mr. Brewster had to get there early to set things up. The car passed all the familiar houses and then the school and on to a part of town Jimmy had rarely been in. The houses were somewhat shabby and the trees in the yards old and gnarled. They traveled on to a business section just past the Harrisburg City limits. Mr. Brewster came to a few storefronts. One had a dirty green awning. On top of the building, a cross was displaying the words “Jesus Saves”. Mr. Brewster pulled in behind these stores and parked. He and Mrs. Brewster got out and each carried in a huge box of plants, white trumpets with green leaves. Mary got out carrying a black book and Jimmy followed. They went in at the back of the building. Inside, even with the lights on, it was somewhat dark and dingy. Mrs. Brewster fixed the curtains on the stage and set the plants around. Mary and Jimmy set up the chairs. Mr. Brewster sat at the back and went over his notes. Mary went to a table along one side, brought Jimmy a black book and they sat down.

“I brought you a Bible to use. It has pictures. You can take it home and borrow it if you want to.”

Jimmy looked it over. He turned to a picture of David and Goliath. He was intrigued enough to look up the scripture reference listed on the picture. Mary helped him find it. He read and read until it was nearly time to start. “Mary, this is awesome. Is it true? This story can’t be true.”

“Yes, it is; it most certainly is. It’s all true.”

Jimmy read a bit more. He watched the people come in. They were all dressed up. They wore no expensive clothes, but hats and gloves, and fans and all sorts of finery. A woman went to the organ and began to play a hymn. She played, “Christ is Risen, Alleluia!” Jimmy didn’t know the song but it thrilled him nonetheless. Then they sang, “Amazing Grace.” Jimmy didn’t believe he had ever heard such a wonderful song. The tune made his heart ache in a strange way. He wanted to hear it again, but the singing stopped.

Mr. Brewster, they called him Preacher, stood up and talked a lot about Jesus giving people food and multiplication. Jimmy was a bit confused, but he knew people in the story were fed and happy. He liked what he heard. Then a huge gold plate was passed. He remembered the nickel his mom had given him and put it in with the other money. Then they sang some more. One song was called, “When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder, I’ll Be There.” He heard a long prayed for soldiers, and the President, and the needy and on and on. Then it was time for the people to go home. Several ladies came up to Jimmy and said how wonderful it was for him to come today.

Mary’s mom and dad cleaned up, gathered the plants and went in the car. On the way home, Mr. Brewster stopped at the County Hospital and took the plants inside.

Jimmy was invited to stay at Mary’s for dinner, but he wanted to go home. He wanted to get comfy and read his new book and be left alone. If there were stories in there like the David one, he couldn’t wait to get started.

(Come back next week when the Scribblers start their greatest adventure.)

ChapterXXII: The Note

SCRIBBLERS

C 2004 By Gracie Prior

CHAPTER XXII. THE NOTE

Jimmy went out the door with Butch. "What did you mean by this note?" Jimmy said.

Butch looked at the note he had written for Jimmy. "For a twerp, you're pretty cool," it said. "Oh, you mean the twerp part? You know how you act, silly-like. You do it on purpose. I know you're cool. It shows in what you do and say. You just do what, and say what, and dress like what comes to you. Don't you? Nobody forces you to do these things. Do they?" Butch stopped.

Jimmy turned his face away in shame.

"Well, I think you're so cool anyway and that's what I wanted to say. I'm sure sorry, Jimmy, if it came out wrong. You know I'd never hurt you for anything."

Jimmy smiled a real warm smile. "That was a very nice thing to say, Butch, and I accept your note. I shall treasure it always. Well, that's all I wanted. See you." Jimmy crossed the street and Butch walked across the street farther up and went home.

* * *

Dear Diary, March 14, 1959

I have so much going on in my head. Butch gave me a note that hurt my feelings, but he didn't mean to. He's great. He thinks I'm my own man. If he only knew. Someone is always on me: do this, do that, why can't you act like so and so? At least Butch and the others like me the way I am, even though the real Jimmy can't break through, not yet.

It is so great about Terry's dad. He is doing much better. He only coughs once in awhile. I'll never forget that little prayer. Mary's dad is taking me to her church Sun. Dad and Mom said I could go. Dad said no, but Mom talked him into letting me. She said he never took me, so if Mary's dad took an interest, I should be able to go if I wanted to. I do want to. I've never been to church, that I can remember. I don't know what they do, but I just have this feeling that it will be something new and wonderful. I have to stop writing. I hear Cindy and Beth coming to bed. I have to hide you, Dear Diary. If anyone knew I wrote in here they might laugh at me or even read it. That would be the worst of all. Then I would have nowhere to go with all the bad stuff.

* * *

Jimmy had just hidden his diary when Cindy - four,and Beth - two came into his room. They ran up to him and gave him a hug. "Good night, Jimmy," they called. Each gave him a wet kiss on his cheek. Then they ran out of the room and went to bed. Jimmy sat thinking about the girls and Mom. At least they loved him. At least they thought he was special, just as he was. He got out his Arabian Nights book and lost himself in pleasure.

(Next time: something very special for Jimmy. Come back and see.)

Chapter XXI . Hearts and Flowers

SCRIBBLERS

C 2004 By Gracie Prior

CHAPTER XXI. HEARTS AND FLOWERS

Dear Diary, February 7, l959

The Most wonderful thing has happened. Terry's dad was so sick he had to go to the hospital. We were all so worried about him. Mr. Brewster was at Terry's house and he prayed with us - Terry and me. It was amazing. He held our hands and it was a short prayer, but I felt something inside me. I don't know what it was. Then I had to go home. The next thing I knew, I heard that Mr. Raymond was getting better. Not just a little better, but he really seemed to feel good. Terry said the coughing stopped for awhile. Nobody knows how this happened. I do, but I can hardly believe it. Is it possible? Jimmy

* * *

Butch and the rest of the Scribblers were very excited. Valentine's Day was fast approaching and they were to have a party. Mrs. Brewster said she would give them one at Mary's house on the fourteenth. They were going to have their regular meeting and then the party. Every member decided to do something special. It was to be a secret. They could reveal their surprise at any time during the evening.

Butch was very early at Mary's house. "I just had to leave. My folks were bugging me," Butch explained. "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind, Butch. Come in. You look nice." Butch was wearing a plaid shirt and dark jeans. He always felt that this outfit made his red hair look fabulous.

"Can I help with anything?" Butch asked.

"We are all ready. Come and see the room where the party will be." Mary led Butch downstairs. The basement had been converted to a red and white fantasy land. Pink and red hearts hung from strings from the ceiling. The refreshment table held a heart-shaped cake and there were pretzels and pop set out. On another table was a record player. Near it were several 45-rpm records. Butch looked amazed at all the preparations. Then the doorbell rang.

Jimmy appeared at the door in a a red sweater, gray wool shorts, knee socks, and shiny shoes. He had that impish grin that Mary loved. He held out to her some small African violets. "Mom gave me these. Oh, they're not for you, for your mom. Here, this is for you. He held out a pencil drawing of Mary on a white horse. It was a sketch, but he had the essence of the motion in the scene and determination in the girl's eyes.

"Jimmy, this is Congruent, isn't it? She held it out to get a better look.

"It's actually you, Mary. Do you like it?"

Mary gave Jimmy a squeeze on the shoulders. "I love it."

Terry was last but he came with a special wrapped gift for each of them. They all gathered in the basement and talked of Terry's dad and the miracle. They had their meeting where it was determined to do another chapter on 'Chosen Generation.' Each of them, on their own time would write the next chapter - what happened when Aaron and Congruent got through the tunnels. They would try this new technique and then blend the parts together and get a final version.

During party time Mr. and Mrs. Brewster came down every now and then and checked on beverages and food. At least that's what they said. Mary knew they were just being parents, but that was O.K.

Butch looked nervous. He finally reached in his pocket and gave each Scribbler a small note. "You can't read it now. It is just something I like about you, something I thought of. I hope it makes you happy."

Butch seemed jittery a few moments after that, and then it was Terry's turn. He passed out the small gifts. They were hearts with each member's name on them, hung from red ribbons. "My mom helped me make these. You can use them as bookmarks."

All were delighted with their gifts. Mary went away and came back with heart cookies. They were pink with sprinkles on top. I made them myself. Hope they are good."

The Scribblers finished up and said their good-nights. Butch felt a lot better than when he had come. On the way out, Jimmy caught Butch. "I read my note. I have to talk to you."
(Is there trouble ahead for Jimmy and Butch? Come back next Friday and visit.)

Hf

Chapter XX. Friends In Deed

SCRIBBLERS

C 2004 By Gracie Prior

CHAPTER XX. FRIENDS IN DEED

Terry woke up as the phone rang. He looked at the clock. It was three-thirty P.M. He answered the phone next to him on the table. "Hello, Randolph's."

"Hey, this is Jimmy. You weren't at school. I was worried about you. Anything wrong? You sick?"

"No, my dad. They took him in an ambulance to the hospital last night. I can't talk long. Mom might call. She should have phoned by now."

"I'll come over and keep you company, O.K.?"

"That's great, Jimmy, I'd like that." He hung up the phone and went upstairs to the bathroom to wash his face. He had slept through till eleven A.M., gotten up, eaten something, and then called the hospital. There was no news, so he went back to bed. He hadn't called the school. He didn't care whether he was in trouble or not. He only cared about finding out about Dad. He called the hospital again. "Mercy Hospital? This is Terry Randolph. I'm calling about John Randolph. He came in an ambulance last night. He couldn't breathe. I'm calling to see how he's doing." Terry waited for the lady to find out. He waited and waited. Finally she came back on the phone. "Who's calling? How are you related?"

"This is his son, Terry. I have to know how he is."

"Of course you do, but the only information I can give you is that he's had a very bad night and there is no new information."

Terry tried to control his voice. He swallowed the stuff in his throat and managed to say, "Thank you." He was about to hang up when he remembered. "My number is 486-3255. Please call and ask for Terry if you know anything." He sat down on the bed and cried. He ran to the table for a tissue. He felt so alone. Then he heard Jimmy calling at the back door. He rose and opened it.

It was so good to see Jimmy. He had known him as far back as he could remember. They had always played together.

Jimmy came in and walked into the living room. He sat on a couch and crossed his legs. He didn't say anything at first. Then he said, "Do you know anything more?"

Terry sat beside Jimmy and cried right in front of his friend. Jimmy wouldn't care and he wouldn't tell. "They don't know anything."

Terry's sister, Kathy, came in the back and looked at Terry. "How's Dad?" she asked.

"I don't know. How did you get to school?"

"I walked of course. I had to go to school, didn't I?"

"Yeah, sure. You did the right thing. I'll tell you when I know anything. Go play or do homework or something. Phil should be home soon. Then we'll know."

The room grew quiet again. Jimmy asked, "Do you want something to eat? I think I can make you something?"

"No, no, I had something."

"While we're waiting, let's call Butch and Mary. They'll want to know, Terry. I know they will."

"You can if you want. I don't know what to do."

Jimmy dialed the Brewsters and talked to Mary's dad who happened to be home. "Terry and Kathy are here, but Terry hasn't heard anything." Jimmy looked at Terry. "Can Mr. Brewster come over? He wants to help and he will take you to the hospital."

"Let me have the phone. Hi Mr. Brewster, this is Terry. Yes, thank you. We all feel awful. I'd love to go to the hospital. Even if they won't let me in to see him, at least I'd be there. Come soon. Thanks."

Jimmy called Butch while Terry got cleaned up. "Butchie, I have really bad news. Terry's dad went in the hospital. No, don't come over. It's a long story. In fact, I'm leaving soon. I thought you would want to know. Pray? Yeah, I guess I could pray. Mr. Brewster is coming to help. He can pray for all of us."

The doorbell rang and Terry was ready to go. He invited Mr. Brewster in and said, "Can we go right away?" Mr. Brewster nodded. "Jimmy, thanks for coming. Oh, I forgot, I can't go yet. There's nobody to watch Kathy. I'll just have to wait. Sit down Mr.Brewster."

"May I?" Mr. Brewster said taking the phone. "Karen, can you and Mary watch and feed Kathy here while I take Terry to see his dad? That would be great. Hurry!"

While they were waiting, Mr. Brewster said. "Do you mind if I offer a prayer for your dad?"

Terry smiled. "We hoped maybe you would."

Mr. Brewster took hold of Jimmy and Terry's hands and said a simple prayer for healing. Then he smiled.

Karen Brewster knocked and walked in the house. "I'm here. You can go."

Terry and Mary's dad took off, Jimmy left, and Mary and Mrs. Brewster started to help Kathy. Just as Terry stepped onto the front porch, Butch called to him from the path by the back door. He sounded excited. "I want to help, too."

(Next time, something special for each Scribbler. See you then.)