A Rose Only a Mother Could Love: Other Tales, Labels, and Fables

By Gregory P. Scott

These ten stories, plus one bonus, take place in Everytown, USA; in other words, the stories in this collection could take place in your backyard or on the other side of America. Still, no matter where you go, people are people, and they face the same daily struggles and horrific life tragedies but also joy, laughter, and redemption.

Read of one boy who spent his life growing up in a poor household until the thrill of a day at the fancy Dairy Queen. Attend a childs funeral, arranged and organized by the child herself. Find a family less than thankful on Thanksgiving and a Marine who receives a less than welcome homecoming, despite brave service to his country.

Meet characters like Steady Stuart and good old Pete the Pennyman. These charactersand the tales themselveswill provoke, amuse, and enthrall. Youll be left guessing how many of these stories are true and which are works of pure fiction, but actually, it doesnt matter, since real life is the strangest story of them all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781491773598

Gregory P. Scott

Gregory P. Scott is a native of Brooklyn, New York. He is a graduate of John Jay College of Criminal Justice and a United States Marine Corps Veteran. He now lives in Savannah, Georgia, with his wife, Sheri, and daughters Taqwaa and Johnell.

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Copyright © 2015 Gregory P. Scott.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-7361-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-7359-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015914663

iUniverse rev. date: 9/11/2015

Contents

Dedication

Pete the Pennyman

The Lemonade Stand

A Rose Only a Mother Could Love

Steady Stu’s Unlikely Day

Thank You, Tommy Carroll

The Scarecrow Knows

Sticks and Stones

Take Me to Work, Please

Once a Marine

What Am I?

My Purple Angel

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the memory of my dear mother, Sallie Mitchell Scott.

Mom, thanks for sharing your love of the printed word with me.

Peace and Blessings.

Gregory

Pete the Pennyman

I was about to throw the local Gazette newspaper into the trashcan when I recognized his face. The man in the picture appeared a lot heavier, but he was clean-shaven and youthful—a smiling Pete in what looked like some sort of military uniform. The obituary read, Peter Michael Henderson’s funeral services will be held at Westlake Chapel at eleven o’clock today. Therefore, I will be closing the doors of my modest law firm.

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Pete is an olive-colored, average-sized man. He usually wears a green skullcap with the word Veteran stitched in white faded letters; a green camouflage jacket; and dirty, well-worn blue jeans.

Y’all hurry up, and get to that schoolhouse, yells Pete, aka Pete the Pennyman.

He is talking to the boys in the neighborhood. They hang out, regardless of the weather, in their usual spot on Clemmons Avenue next to a corner store. On this particular day, Pete is actually right. The crew, consisting of Steven, Amir, Roderick, and me, are trying to beat the eight o’clock morning school bell. Pete hands us three pennies each from his greasy brown paper bag with great authority. It’s always pennies, never any silver coins.

After school, the neighborhood boys fling the pennies in an empty lot to see who can throw them the furthest. I have to hold onto and save my pennies for the most part. Sometimes, I actually throw one penny to avoid suspicion from the group.

Please understand that my mom is a struggling single parent raising two other children, my younger sister and an older brother. Even as a youth, the concept of throwing away money is sacrilegious to me. My pennies are used to buy treats like candy and gum, which I sometimes share with my little sister. We aren’t sure where Pete gets these pennies, and it doesn’t matter.

The school play is five days away, and my afro is long overdue for a haircut. Although a haircut is only two dollars, I don’t want to stress my mother’s already tight budget. As I sit in class on this