Return to Gollywoggle Island part I

1

Return to Gollywoggle Island

The little boy was hardly popular. Between his badly fitting clothes (hand-me-downs from his mother’s collection of brothers), his really weird hair, and the fact that he had little control over his bodily functions, he got beaten up constantly. His name was Benjamin Sanborn and he stopped in the morning to check out his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He giggled briefly as he made a goofy face and straightened up. His mom was a retro-throwback and he considered this as he glanced at his attire. His shirt was a faded purple tee that was too big. His pants were plaid bell-bottoms and the hairs that stuck up atop his head were blond. He considered telling his mom and dad about Clyde Renton, the bully who always took his lunch money, but decided against it because he feared their wrath. The problem with parents is they either tell the kid to let teachers know what’s going on or they laugh because a kid should just belt whoever bothers them. Either way, Ben figured, there was no chance that he’d let his parents know what was going on.

Knowing his parents the way he did, his mom would surely tell the teacher and his dad would make him slug Clyde. Clyde was an angry rich kid whose parents seemed to know everyone. Clyde always had everything first and was a tough guy to everyone in the fourth grade. Ben fantasized about revenge on the biggest kid in the school. But he wasn’t anyone’s hero so he took the beatings. His mom screamed at him from the living room to hurry up. The neighborhood was a quiet one far from the city. There were trees everywhere and the streets were clean.
2
Benjamin’s family was a small one consisting only of his parents and him. As he stepped into the living room of the cottage, his mom smiled down at her boy. Benjamin, like most kids his age, wasn’t sure if his mother was beautiful because of how she cared for him or because she was really good-looking. Her hair was blond and cropped tightly to her skull. She had big brown eyes and always wore a bandanna on her head. The bandanna was tied loosely in a knot atop her head. She sat in her cushioned chair and smiled brightly. “Well, Benny you look great! Uncle Joe will be happy to see his old shirt being used by you. Before the bus gets here let me take a picture!”

Benjamin shrugged as his mom retrieved her phone from the small table. His Uncle Joe was a blimp. Offering what he believed to be his best fake smile, Ben let his mom take the picture. She was crazy; thought the lad, to take photos of every little thing was a silly thing to do. The yellow cheese of a bus tooted its horn at the corner and Ben smirked. Saved by the bell, he briefly thought as his mom tucked the phone away. She scooped him in her arms and ran to the door. The bus stopped right outside because the cottage they lived in was on the corner. Rushing to get past his mom, Ben seemed to her excited about school. The poor woman had no idea he just wanted to get away from her craziness.

3
The driver was a medium sized woman who had the unfortunate fate of having the ugliest pair of parents to make a baby. She was kind enough though and went by the name of Michelle. The townsfolk disapproved of the informal way Michelle let the kids talk to her. Michelle didn’t care much for the conservative town of Hoponable Falls and their straight up attitude. As Ben slid into the bus, she greeted him with a warped smile and gross breath. Ben nodded politely as he sought his seat. The kids were behaving themselves well enough to suspect they’d been drugged. Ben sighed with relief as he recognized it was because they were all just tired. Monday mornings often were full of the most dragged people, he considered, because nobody wants to do anything but hang out.

He began to wonder why kids had to go to school and parents had to work despite the fact that they’d rather not. Clyde tossed a ball of paper at Ben’s head as the bus pulled away from the curb. Ben counted slowly to ten so he wouldn’t get angry and start a mess. Rules didn’t allow the kids to roam through the bus while it was moving. Today, however, there was no bus monitor to keep the kids in line. Ben looked for the young guy whose job it was to stop Clyde from being an ass. The guy went by the name Mr. Hilbert and he always wore a bright blue fedora and a smirk. Ben suspected Mr. Hilbert was in fact a sixth-grader who got into a lot of trouble. Mr. Hilbert was then punished by having to be the bus monitor. The thought amused Ben and he giggled softly to himself as he wondered where Mr. Hilbert was.
4

By the time they’d gotten settled in at school, Ben was frustrated because of Clyde’s friends continuing harassment. Clyde was a jerk and poor Ben had no idea how to deal with the boy. At recess the kids divided up in their respective groups. Mean kids (Clyde and his friends), girls (Darla and her friends), and leftovers (Ben and Kevin as well as Mary and Candice) played together while being wary of the other groups. The recess teacher (it was a silly thing to call anyone but the kids needed supervision) was a bubble-gum chewing knucklehead who went by the name Tricia. Tricia had a Mohawk that seemed to have its own life. The colors of her hair changed like a chameleon with the sunlight. Ben got a kick out of the way Tricia handled her job. She wasn’t cruel to anyone and paid close attention to the various groups without interfering.

It was a tricky path to take and the girl did it skillfully. Ben took a moment on this bright Monday, to ask Tricia how she managed to be so free and yet responsible. After carefully gauging the situation and judging it safe, he snuck over to where she was sitting. “Tricia, I got a question, you don’t mind?” Ben was a polite boy and brighter than most his age. She touched her iPad and then smiled brightly with a nod. Focusing on Ben, she nodded happily. “How do you fit in with the grown-ups? I mean the thing is kids fight all the time and grown ups never seem to. How does that work?”

5
Tricia laughed for a second. Then she quickly gazed around the playground. “You know something Ben, people get older and suddenly the kind of cap that used to be important isn’t so anymore. Grown ups fight all the time but they just are better at hiding it. My guess is that after years of practice they’ve managed to keep their cool. Why do you ask?”

Ben found himself in the greatest position of his young life. Tricia was talking to him and not at him. He felt proud and let the feeling pass as he turned his attention to answer. “Clyde is a jerk. He and those kids he hangs with are always picking on the rest of us. I just want to know if I ’clock’ him will it help?”

Tricia laughed again. “No, I don’t think an ass-whooping would help. Clyde may be a jerk for a reason. I know you’ve probably heard it all before, God knows I have, but someday you’ll see that people may be jerks but deep down it’s because they’re in pain.”

Ben had never even considered that. He supposed no doubt because of his daddy’s attitude, that people like Clyde just need a good slap before they respected you. He wasn’t really sure what respect was but daddy seemed to believe. Clyde was in pain? A small part of Ben was thrilled this may be the case. He wanted to crush the boy many times. Tricia, however, seemed to think feeling bad for Clyde would be a better approach. Ben’s mind was filled with possibility and doubt.
6
Just then there was a squabble between Clyde’s gang and a leftover. Tricia shot up and stepped in their direction. Clyde was beating up a smaller kid as he gang cackled loudly. Tricia snatched the smaller kid up and dangled him by his pants as she glared at the offender. “Clyde I don’t know what your problem is. At the moment I don’t think it matters, the only thing that does is that you are in trouble. Do you understand what I mean?” Tricia was as angry as Benjamin had ever seen her. It made the boy a little nervous to see the recess teacher in such a state.

Clyde looked for a second as if he was on the verge of tears. Ben was quick enough to note his bully had a definite weak side. Clyde’s friends stood around him and looked to their leader for a hint about what they should do next. Ben watched with keen interest as Clyde composed himself. Clyde wore a deep navy cap and oversized pants. He had shiny sneakers and his shirt was baggy as it hung down past his belly. Ben thought Clyde may as well be wearing a girl’s skirt. As the boy played with the idea a smile grew on his face. Then Clyde gritted his teeth before clearing his throat and speaking. “Oh yeah, I’m in BIG trouble. You think I’m a scared a you? You’re just a crazy girl who can’t find a real job so she makes ’tend she’s a teacher?”

The little kid was weeping in Tricia’s arms and Ben recognized him as The little kid was weeping in Tricia’s arms and Ben recognized him as Jon-Jon, a first grader. Tricia fired her eyebrows up and grabbed the back of Clyde’s shirt. The bell rang and the rest of the kids lined up as Tricia led Clyde to the principal’s office.

7
Ben watched as they walked toward Mrs. Staples with a cringe in his belly. Considering what Tricia had told him about why Clyde was such a jerk, Ben was more confused than ever. Jon-Jon was helpless from what Ben knew. The kid earned a double promotion and was only old enough to be in kindergarten. Jon-Jon was supposed to be a very smart kid and leaped from preschool to the first grade as a result. For a silly goof like Jon-Jon to be attacked by a jerk like Clyde didn’t make any sense. Ben now thought there had to be a reason Clyde behaved the way he did.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Benjamin went home amid confusion. He wasn’t sure why he felt worse for Clyde than the bully’s victim. He considered what Tricia had told him about the adult world and wondered what he was missing. His mom and dad were too busy to notice how grim he’d seemed. After dinner and dessert, Ben sullenly stepped into his room. Glancing briefly at the clock he noted that it was 7:30. He was tired for some reason though and, despite the fact that his parents had upped his bed time to 9:00, he considered retiring. He climbed under the covers and picked up the book he’d been reading. The book he’d been reading was called “Stuart Little”. It was written by someone named E.B. White. It told the story of a mouse that had been accepted as the member of a family. The mouse’s adventures filled Ben’s mind with wonderful imagery.

8
He had the book propped up and ready to read when his dad tapped at the door. His dad was a big man with a round belly and no hair except for a handlebar moustache. The old man was polite and asked if Ben minded a little company. Ben smiled brightly as his dad entered and then sat at the edge of the bed. His dad rubbed the little boy’s head before, “What’s wrong Ben, something is the matter right?”

Ben rubbed his eyes. “Boy dad, you got a way of knowing things before anyone else. Yeah, something happened at school today and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Ben’s dad was named Harry and he worked as a supervisor in the sock factory in Baybridge. His work was only a priority when he was doing it. Ben loved the idea that his dad and he could relate to each other because the old man never acted like he was better than his son. Harry stretched his hands out and then crossed his arms. “Did that bully attack you again? Why you don’t haul off and whale on Clyde, I don’t think I’ll ever know. I hate to remind you of this again, the only way to handle a bully is to face him down. Teachers and parents really can’t help you. Something tells me this time is a little different though. Before you fall back into the Little Family, whyn’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”

9
Ben smiled for the first time that day as he explained what Tricia had told him and the fight between Clyde and Jon-Jon. By the time the youngster was done, the clock read 8:15. Harry stifled a grin. “Son, I understand that sometimes people can be jerks for a reason. I also get that you hate like hell to see anyone in pain or suffering. Trust me when I tell you those are great qualities and that someday people will appreciate you for them. The only real problem that you have is there’s no way of knowing what Clyde’s problem is, without a problem there can’t be a solution!” Harry smiled and Ben yawned.

“Thanks dad, for hearing me out and the answer. I just figured out that I can’t do anything right now. Tomorrow though. . . “

“Tomorrow will happen the same way it always does; in its own time. Good night Benny, sleep tight okay?” Harry kissed his boy’s forehead and then tiptoed toward the door. “I love you.”

Ben whispered back, “I love you too!”

In the darkness and quiet of the little boy’s room, Ben found the troubles of the day slip. As he closed his eyes, tiny flicks of light emerged from the black night. Swirling around his head as he yawned, the light formed a vortex that enveloped Ben.

10

The boy felt giddy as the trickles of light changed colors and took his mind away. Instructing Ben in what they were (Gollywoggles) and where he was being taken. The island was a fairyland with a wide blue ocean surrounding it. Ben had no control over the laughter which emerged from his insides. As he touched down there were a group of spiders playing a game of hopscotch. The boy glanced around quickly as the sweet smell of lilac juice fell through the air. Hoisting his head in the direction of the juice, he failed to realize his feet had come off the ground as he smiled. The juice was churning in a massive pot as he touched the ground again. The urge to giggle overwhelmed him and he grinned.

Stirring the pot of lilac juice was a pair of butterflies. Each butterfly had a nametag prominently displayed on their foreheads. The tags were big and read in block letters. The one on the side closest to Ben read: B’tootle, across the pot, the other butterfly’s nametag said; A’lootle. Ben lost control of his mouth and said, “Boy that smells great! How are ya? Ben is my name,” he looked for a hand to shake and, finding none, paused. “Is this what the Gollywoggles have you do?”

B’tootle smiled a mouthful of golden teeth. “We know who you are, silly. My brother and I make all the goodies for the king’s family. We’ve been doing this for ages. What brings you here Ben? I take it there is something going on at school, right?”

11

A’lootle chuckled from his side of the pot. “Hey Ben, relax huh? Kick back and have a coupla laughs. Nobody does anything they don’t wanna do on the island.” Then the butterfly fired a glance to his brother. “Hey B’tootle, I think this pot’s about done. Whyn’t you have Ben take a sip and we’ll see.”

B’tootle tapped a bucket behind him with his wing. The bucket was small and fell into Ben’s hands. Then the butterfly said, “H’yuk, you heard the fly Ben, take a sip okay?”

Ben filled the cup and took a hearty sip. It was strange but the flavor reminded him of being a baby. He giggled for a moment. “Wow that is delicious!”

A’lootle grinned at his brother. “See, I told ya!” Then the butterfly turned to Ben. “Now that you’ve done us a favor, what can we do ya for?”

Ben sat down and realized there was a fluffy cushion under his rump before he landed. The cushion was bright purple and he felt it vibrate slightly. The vibration produced a hearty laugh. He managed to get his laugh under control and then said, “Since I have no idea where here is, and have never been here before, I may as well tell you what’s going on.”

12
The two butterflies assumed a position just off the ground and hovered there as they listened to the tale of Clyde. Ben told them in short sentences and wasn’t sure they could understand him. Both nodded that they got every word. B’tootle spoke, “Sounds to me like King Mostocolli and Queen Parmesan are the folks ya need to see.” His brother nodded with agreement. “The King is a great guy who helps everyone out. We can’t do much for you but I figure Pitsy can.”

Before Ben could ask who Pitsy was A’lootle smiled. “Pitsy is a Boopenhiemer, a very friendly bunch of clods. Close your eyes for a second and think of sweet farts.” He laughed a short snort. “Pitsy will show up and give you a lift!”

Ben had no idea what the butterfly was talking about. Who really knows what a sweet fart would be? Does that mean that feeling of relief you have after holding one in all day or does it mean the smell is good? He shut his eyes and felt like farting. Then he heard a thunderous clap and opened his eyes to see Pitsy the Boopenhiemer bouncing in place. Pitsy was a big fellow with a round body and twin arms that shot from his torso like twigs. He was pink with blue and green spots all over his body and tail. Pitsy smiled and jabbed a hand at Ben.

Ben was always polite and shook the hand as firmly as possible. Pitsy spoke with a goofy voice.

13
“Hey there pard, you are Ben right? I think you know my name, we got a nice little trip ahead of us.” Pitsy laughed. “Take a hold of some furry fat and hang on. The path can get kind of bumpy!”