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From: " +Grant. " <+Grant@grant.grant>
Newsgroups: alt.fan.prettyboy
Subject: +*+*+*+ The Adventures of Stevie #83 "Willie and the Bad Man" +*+*+*+
Date: 20 Dec 2010 17:35:03 -0600
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The Adventures of Stevie #83
These stories were told to me by friends and other people. Some of them
are true. Some of them are only partly true. Some of them should have
been true. LOL
My first post about Stevie ("Call me Stephen!") was when he was 12 and
in summer camp and was told by another camper. This was from a time
before computers would fit on a desk and when people communicated with
friends in other countries by actual letters sent through the postal
service. When children did this those friends were called "penpals".
Carlos is Stevie's penpal in Argentina and knows English. This is a
fictional contrivance to enable Stevie to tell us his stories because
he isn't here in person. I think.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
Stevie's school is for gifted children who don't fit in regular schools.
The stories may not be posted in chronological order.
Stevie is 12 in this story, in year 3 of his special school.
The Adventures of Stevie #83 "Willie and the Bad Man"
Dear Carlos,
Dan took some tests. They showed he is very intelligent, and with
high aptitudes in a lot of things, He should be ready for his right
grade very soon. I found out something special about him. He's a really
terrific athlete. I know this because he didn't know how to play
baseball or most of the other sports at camp, and couldn't swim, before
he came to camp. He learned it all at camp in just too weeks, enough to
be like an expert teacher in them. I think that makes him a sports
genius. You can guess what happened when I told him that. Yes, he's an
athlete in bed too.
Saturday we took the bus to go to Mr. Johnson's sports store to get
some equipment for Dan, just me and him. When we got on the bus, I
recognized some of the students I saw before when I talked with the
professor. They recognized me too. We smiled and waved to each other. I
like them, but there wasn't room for where they were sitting, so we
stayed in the front of the bus. I waved to the bus driver too. He's a
nice man. At the next stop, Willie and his mother got on. I gave him a
big grin and said to him, "Hi Willy! Remember me?" He didn't say
anything, but his face lit up and he came over and hugged me. I said
"Hello Willie's mother. I'm Stephen. It's nice to see you again. How
have you and Willie been doing?" She sat near us and we talked a bit.
Then I said "Where are my manners! My other brother you saw with me
before is in college. This is my brother Dan." They talked with each
other while I talked and played with Willie. Then a man got on the bus,
and things went from good to bad.
The new passenger said in a nasty voice, "Nxxxxxs should be in the
back of the bus. They are not fit to be up here with regular folks." He
called them a very bad word some people use for very dark skinned
people in America who used to be slaves from Africa lots of years ago.
I got instantly mad enough to rip his head off and shove it up his
butt, but I didn't let it show. I could feel Dan tense up. I was
worried he might start something he couldn't handle. I kicked his shoe
a little to tell him I was in charge. That relaxed him a little. I said
to the man, "They are my friends, and are very nice people. Please be
more polite to them." He said very nastily, "What are you, some kind of
Nxxxxr lover?" I said "I love everybody, even you, although you are
making it very hard for me to like you. It doesn't hurt to be nice, you
know." That confused him a little. While he was trying to figure out
how to think, Willie's mother said softly, "I don't want to cause any
trouble. We'll move to the back." I said to her, "That might be best,
but just for a little bit. You aren't the one who is causing trouble,
which didn't exist until HE got on the bus. Willie, please go with your
mother. You can come back and visit in a minute, okay?" They got up and
moved to the back of the bus.
The man said "I still don't want them on this bus." I said "We were
all here first. If you don't like who is on it, you can get off. I'm
sure our very nice bus driver would stop and let you off right away, if
we ask him nicely." The bus driver nodded, but the man couldn't see it.
I said "He might even open the door, too." The man got real mad and
punch just graze my nose. Then I slammed him with my open palm in his
chest, which sent him jumping backwards into his seat. I grabbed my
nose like he had really hit it and said, "Mister, you just attacked and
assaulted a child, in front of all these witnesses who don't like you.
We are going to pass a police station soon. Maybe we should all get off
there and tell them about this. Ah, Mr. Jones, I think you just lost
this." Then I gave him back his wallet I had lifted out of his pocket
when he was attacking me, and had glanced inside it. "I know who you
are and where you live. I can report this crime any time I want to. I
have friends who are police officers. I won't like what they would do
to you if they find out about this. You won't like it either, if you
like what you look like now, and like to be able to walk on your own.
Do you like hospitals? Maybe now is a good time to ask our bus driver,
very politely, to let you off right now." That's what he did. Then I
stood up and said to the other passengers. "It's OK, he didn't hurt
me." Most of the other passengers applauded and cheered. Dan was the
loudest. Then I could hear him whispering to himself, which he knew I
would hear, "My hero. My hero. My hero." I kicked his shoe again, and
he laughed.
I said to Willie and his mother "Please come back now. I have some
things to say to you." They did, and Willie snuggled between me and
Dan, who hugged him. I said to his mother, "I thought it would be
better to make it so he would get off, than to try to change him, or
beat him up, which I can really do. I apologize for him, because he
can't. I know it hurts, but I think it hurts him just as much, which is
why he is so mean to good people." I said to Willie, "Willie, that man
is hurting inside, which makes him want to hurt other people with his
bad words and his hands. He can't help who he is and what he feels. We
shouldn't be mad at him, but sorry for him. Willie, you are a good boy.
A beautiful boy. You will grow up to be a good man, a Doctor, maybe. If
somebody tries to make you think anything different, you don't have to
listen, because you know how good you are, because WE know." His mother
was crying when I finished. So was Dan, who said loudly "He's not just
my brother, he's my hero!" I heard a few other voices say "Mine too." I
kicked Dan's shoe again. Twice.
Just before we had to get off the bus, Willie's mother hugged me and
kissed me on the cheek. I looked up at her and smiled and said "You can
do that any time you want to. I don't mind at all having an extra
mother." The bus driver shook my hand. He didn't have to say anything
more than his face did. We were still standing next to the bus while
new passengers were getting on, and I told Dan "I'm NOT a hero. Stop
calling me that!" I was going to say more, but I heard some passengers
laugh at that, so I didn't.
We went into the store. I said hello to Mr Johnson, and told him what
we would like to get. We didn't get it right away because Dan couldn't
shut UP. He told Mr. Johnson what happened on the bus, who then put his
arm around Dan and turned him around, and pointed to my picture on the
wall behind the cash registers. He told Dan, "I was like that man on
the bus. Stephen showed me how wrong I was. He is my hero too, and not
just for that, but because he rescued my granddaughter and brought her
back to life." I said "How did you know?" He said "We found out later
there wasn't enough air in the safe to keep her alive for the time she
was locked in it. I asked Officer Chow if she was gone when you opened
the safe. He wouldn't say. That means she was, and you told him not to
tell. I know the loyalty you inspire." Then he hugged me. Dan was
looking at me with amazement. I knew more hero stuff was going to
happen. It did.
Dan told him that I rescued him, risking my life for an almost
stranger, from certain death. I tried to shush him, but he didn't
listen. Mr. Johnson looked impressed. I didn't want any more hero
stuff. I said to Dan, "Stop, you're embarrassing me!" Then I said
loudly to Mr. Johnson, "We came here to get some jocks for my new
brother, for his sports. Are you going to be our athletic supporter, or
not?" Practically the whole store laughed. When he could, Mr. Johnson
said "Stephen, I've heard those kinds of jokes practically all my life,
but yours was the best."
He wouldn't let us pay for any of it, which was a lot. All we could
carry, actually. I told him he couldn't make a living that way. He just
smiled. We didn't have any more interesting things happen on the bus
ride back. Naturally, Dan told the rest of the family as soon as we got
inside. I had to run to my room to keep from being hugged to death.
Then Dan came in and we both undressed and went back to join the family
for supper. Dan kept whispering loud enough for everybody to hear, "My
hero." They nodded every time he said it. Finally, I said "PLEASE stop
it, or I won't do anything which would make you say that, anymore. I
really don't like it. I'm serious." They stopped, but I could see in
their faces they still thought it. Dan decided to make his point in a
different way, and grabbed my monster under the table. I jumped, and
dropped my fork. I said "Dan! Can't that wait?" The rest of the family
exploded in laughter. I really mean exploded. From their mouths. The
food. All over the table. Dan said, "Okay, if we can have ice cream for
desert." They knew what that meant. They heard my squeals and gasping
laughter coming from the bedroom after having that for desert. I guess
they thought I deserved something special, because that's what we had.
Dan's favorite, chocolate.
After supper, when we were in our room. I tried to explain about the
special security the students had to have about what we did, and that
he shouldn't be telling people the things he did, which could cause
some real trouble for a lot of people. Do you know how hard it is to be
serious when somebody you love is stroking your monster and playing
with your nuts at the same time? That's one problem with being a
nudist. Sometimes such easy accessibility to sensitive fun parts isn't
the best thing to have when you want to pay attention to something
else. But I didn't push his hands away. Or his mouth and tongue, later.
I could never say no to that. Or really, to him.
Your friend,
Stephen
--
Grant
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