Lucky 18

By Dana Blake

Lucky 18 is the story of a high school senior, ages seventeen through nineteen, who struggles to find his way as a 'nurd' in an increasingly complex world. With a lightness and sensitivity towards today's youth, Lucky 18 shows how developing a keen interest as a youth, such as anatomy, can lead to fulfillment as a young man. Read it!

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483509198

Book preview

Author

Prologue

Does ‘lucky’ really mean fortunate, as everyone in society seems to say, or does it simply mean something bad happens to you and you survive it? Read up on our friend Harold Buttenfield, folks, and find out what I’ getting at here…

1

Harold Buttenfield the ‘Nurd’

It was the summer before his senior year of high school. Harold Buttenfield was seventeen, going on eighteen. His hair was greasy, he wore glasses, and in size and shape, he was rather rotund. But he was happy because, as you see, Mr. Buttenfield was a ‘nurd.’ When you are a seventeen year-old ‘nurd,’ life is sweet. There is no end to the mischief such a seventeen year-old ‘nurd’ can get himself into. And did I mention Harold was a strong seventeen years old? In many ways, Harold Buttenfield was, in fact, lucky. But what does ‘lucky’ mean?

This summer, in a quest to become somebody he wasn’t, our friend Harold Buttenfield volunteered to be an usher at LaConn Community Theater. The theater was a convenient fifteen minute walk from his home, and although HB had never had never been the artsy type, he fully put himself into the job every Saturday afternoon at 1 pm. Little did Harold know at the time that of all the jobs he was to hold later in life, volunteer usher at LaConn Community Theater would turn out to be the most fun.

Can I lead you to your seat? Harold would ask the elderly patronages at the theater as they appeared in the doorway. This afternoon’s play is called ‘The Glass Menagerie.’

Why, certainly… the elderly folks would respond. Our friend would then kindly suffer his arm to the elderly ladies among the bunch and lead them to their seats. Mr. Buttenfield was good at this because he had an inoffensive demeanor. He was, in essence, a ‘good boy.’ All the community leaders liked him, a fact which Harold understood. It was just too bad, Harold thought, I can’t be more popular in school…

The best part of being an usher was watching the play. The theater also offered free sodas to all the ushers during intermission. The purpose of this was so they could all discuss the play together. Plays were believed to be universally appealing by the theater company management.

In the play ‘The Glass Menagerie,’ the crystal collection symbolizes how Laura, a shy and attractive young woman, can’t break out of the shell that keeps her from expressing herself to the outside world. To Harold, it felt like he had a similar problem, and if he could just speak up a little more, perhaps, people would like him more. But did he really have such a problem?

There were three other ushers working at LaConn Community Theater. Their names were Marcus Middlebury, Cynthia Strunmond, and Junette. Marcus was a black athlete. Cynthia was the daughter of the Reverend Jeremiah Strunmond, and Junette was simply different as will be related later in this novella. She always wore tight clothing. (You have to use your imagination…)

So Harold stood within the door and greeted every paying customer. As related earlier in this story, these were mostly elderly people who wanted to support the youth of the community. Some had connections to his school, Buford High, and others were active in civics. Not every community has a theater like LaConn, and most customers felt privileged (as opposed to ‘lucky…’) to be attending such a fine play.

After Harold had lead a distinguished elderly lady to her seat, Cynthia approached HB. Harold, she asked, Why do you think Laura is so shy in this play? Why can’t she break out of her shell? I mean, she’s not ugly like you. Do you think she’s afraid of life?

You can’t be afraid of life, explained Harold Buttenfield, Life doesn’t always go according to plan.

She needs to get out more, take up a sport, said Marcus Middlebury.

I know that’s what you like to do, Marcus, added Junette.

If it weren’t for sports I don’t know what I’d do, Marcus said.

I think the problem is Laura has an inferiority complex, commented Junette.

My father talks about it, said Cynthia, It can happen to women.

I don’t know, said Harold Buttenfield with finality, But it’s a good play.

The four of them then took seats at the back of the theater. At intermission they gathered together to enjoy their sodas, and this started up more conversation. This party was the best part of the volunteer job, even though Harold had never been good at parties in general. Junette approached Harold during the break.

Do you think you could ever star in a play, Harold? asked Junette. You seem to have spunk!

No, not me, Junette, spoke Harold with confidence in this non-confidence. I could never star in a play. I’m not the actor type. I’m more analytical than that. I’ve always been rather rotund in form, not like you.

How do you know you can’t? asked Junnette, speaking up for her good friend. "I mean, Laura struggles, doesn’t she?

Laura needs to have more confidence in herself, said Cynthia.

It’s such a sad play, commented Marcus. If it ever happened in real life.

I feel a little like her, said Harold. I mean look at me… I’m ‘nurdy’… and I don’t know if I’m ready for senior year.

Cheer up, Harold buddy, encouraged Marcus Middlebury. If I can enjoy my senior year, you can too.

I’m sure it will turn out to be just fine, Harold, said Cynthia Strunmond. You’ll see…

As the play continued, Harold pondered what it all meant and what his friends had said to him. He knew he couldn’t be popular no matter what he said or did. Then, after the play, he cheered up because he ran into Mrs. Thorogood outside the theater doors. She approached our ‘cool’ friend HB.

‘The Glass Menagerie’ has to be one of my favorite plays, Harold, she said. Do you think you could ever act?

No, Mrs. Thorogood, replied Harold. Acting isn’t my thing. I’m more the analytical type.

I see, continued Mrs. Thorogood. What interests you?

I’m into anatomy, said Mr. Buttenfield proudly. I want to be an anatomists.

What’s an ‘anatomist?’ asked Mrs. T.

It’s someone who pursues the study of anatomy, explained Harold. Anatomy is the science dealing with the structure of animals and plants. I just love it!

It’s not even the start of the school year yet.

I know, but I’m taking the class this year and I’m hoping I can get an ‘A,’ said HB. I’m a little nervous about it and-all.

I hope you enjoy it.

I will, answered Harold affirmatively with absolutely no offense, I promise I will.

Our friend Harold Buttenfield may have been a ‘nurd,’ but he was a good one.

2

HB Marches in the Labor Day Parade

It was Labor Day Monday and Harold Buttenfield was decked out in his best duds--- dress pants, dress shirt and red tie. HB thought himself rather the fine looking, even if he was the ugly sort.

Buttenfield’s role in the parade was to carry a sign that was draped over his front and back. It said, Eat at Tuttle’s. Tuttle’s was a local diner in town, and even though Buttenfield was just a high school ‘nurd’ with not a lot of friends, he occasionally found time to eat there with friends and family. It wasn’t exactly a staring role representing Tuttles, but HB felt honored to be in the parade.

Ahead of Harold was the Reverend Jeremiah Strunmond from church, and ahead of him were the horses. It wasn’t cool marching behind the pastor in the parade because everyone who saw him would think he was religious, but HB simply felt honored to be in the parade. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Watch out for the horse’s dung, commented pastor Strunmond before the parade got underway. They’re horses and they have to do their duty. God made them that way.

I will, answered Harold Buttenfield dutifully. Mr. Buttenfield always respected authority.

Then the parade got under way, and HB soaked up all the adulation. They seemed to love him, even if was really the sign they were looking at. It was a popular diner.

The parade wandered past its starting point in a bank parking lot, past the car wash, then Harwich’s bookstore (which was were Babe Ruth’s daughter once made a celebrity appearance.) Then the parade moved up through the business district in town, finally ending at the soldier’s cemetery.

Those horses sure are finicky today, commented the Reverend. The smell brings us back to nature and closer to God’s love. Just don’t step in it, Harold.

I won’t.

By the time one o’clock came along, Buttenfield was thinking he could get used to the celebrity lifestyle. He thought about what they would all say about this at Buford High, his high school. The first day of his senior year was Tuesday. Would all the teachers, athletes and cheerleaders talk about him? Probably not…

And speaking of cheerleaders, Harold thought he saw Junette peering at him from a behind a Maple tree on Pinegrove street. The thing with Junette was you could never be sure what she was thinking. She was the head of the cheerleading squad.

Then it was time to pack up, it being around one o’clock. The band was taking off their uniforms, the fire trucks were pulling out, and the police officers were scurrying to and fro. Buttenfield spoke to several older neighbors he knew from about town. This included Ms. Vinplate, and elderly woman who live by herself. Buttenfield was always the sort to show compassion to the old and lonely. Being the kindly-natured fellow he was, he was just made that way.

Somehow Buttenfield got carried away in all this excitement. As he went to leave the scene and head home pastor Strunmond called his attention.

Look down at your shoes, Harold! said the Reverend. As I told you those horses have been busy this morning.

Harold then looked down at his feet and …yes… it appeared there was something brown, smelly and pungent on his feet… could it be… it was the horse manure! Apparently,