by B. P. Draper
BUBBY I
Wanted: A Hero like None Other
by B. P. Draper
This book was originally published as follows:
Bubby I – Wanted: A Hero like None Other. Copyright 1995, 2012 by B. P. Draper.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
The Complete Bubby Anthology is also available in paperback:
IBSN: 1470100975
ISBN-13: 978-1470100971
Dedication
Dedicated to all who dream of being heroes.
Table of Contents
Bubby I – Wanted: A Hero like None Other
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
About the Author
BUBBY I
Wanted: A Hero like None Other
Chapter One
“Hey, geek freak,” Paul called as he knocked the books out of Robert’s hands and started laughing. Everyone within view started to laugh as well. From there, a chain reaction started, and whether or not that person had seen what happened, they laughed anyway. It was a jolly sort of laughter that would lead Santa to believe he had spread joy throughout the whole world.
Paul Harris was the best looking, most popular, and strongest guy in the school. His blond hair, rugged jaw, and sweet-talking ways could charm anyone to his side. But it was Paul’s natural strength, and Robert’s natural weakness that had convinced Robert it was better to just let Paul pick on him. How easy it seemed to him though, that with one mighty swing of his fist, he could have Paul moaning on the floor. But that was mere wishful thinking. He vowed to himself over and over that he would take care of Paul, but he never had the courage to do so. He didn’t now either. The result would only be his personal embarrassment.
Robert could do nothing but return the greeting as warmly as possible. “Hi,” he said quietly, without smiling.
The bell rang and everyone went to their classes, leaving Robert alone to pick up his books. By the time he had pulled them all together and stood up, someone running through the hall slammed into him, causing his books to once again spill out of his arms and onto the floor.
A second bell signaled alerting Robert that he was going to come to class looking like a tardy slacker. He scrambled to pick up his papers and books, threw them together, and ran all the way to class.
Upon reaching class, Paul called to him from the back of the classroom. “Why Mr. Mason, what could have possibly made you late for class today?” he said with a hint of sarcasm. This received quite a laugh from the student body.
Robert ignored his question, walked over to a desk at the front, and sat down. For the duration of the first hour, a steady stream of spitballs pelted the backside of his head.
* * *
Robert was happy when he finally got out of school. Though school only lasted six hours, excluding lunch, it had felt like an eternity. As he walked home, he went through his regular ritual of picking the spitballs out of his hair. He noted that today was different in that his classmates had been creative enough to use colored paper.
“I wish I could just pound Paul into the ground,” he said to himself angrily. “I’m just so sick of him. Not just him but with life and living. If only I could have cool parents and cool clothes. Not to mention contacts instead of these stupid, thick-rimmed glasses. It’ll never happen though.”
A voice suddenly came into his head: Surely you don’t believe that your problems can be solved by a change in your clothes or looks. The real self is what you should be proud of. I am and you should be too.
Take off, Robert thought to the voice in his head.
Why Robert, you’ve never taken that sort of attitude with me before. Frankly, I don’t think that I like it. I’m leaving. The voice seemed quite irritated as it trailed off.
At least I won’t be hearing those voices for a while, Robert thought to himself.
He walked up the sidewalk to the front door of his house and let himself in. He saw his parents sitting on the living room couch, strung out on drugs and staring at the television. As usual, they did not even acknowledge his presence. Robert shut the door and went to the bathroom.
Robert studied himself intently in the mirror. Despite all attempts to comb or part his hair in a different way, he still looked like a nerd.
Next he looked at himself after removing the glasses. He looked slightly better, but not enough to make a significant change.
His real problem, he decided, was that he was too tall and far too skinny.
He decided to switch from his regular dress slacks and shirt—complete with pocket protector, pens, and pencils—to a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that his parents had gotten him before they realized he was destined to forever be a nerd. He decided not to procrastinate making this change in apparel; he would dress in this new fashion tomorrow.
After doing his homework, and studying like there was no tomorrow, he hacked on his computer and surfed the Internet, playing chess until three o’clock in the morning. Finally quitting, he climbed into bed for the night.
Robert had a restless slumber, as throughout the night the same dream repeated in his mind again and again. He saw himself in a room with strange lighting and a man standing in front of him. He had no idea where the man had come from because he saw no door. This extremely aged man with a long bushy white beard spoke to him and warned him of a change that would be occurring in his life. The details were sketchy, but Robert gathered that he would have to save the Earth from a dangerous villain. He suddenly felt super powers enrapture him, given as a gift by the man. Then, just as he was about to find out who this nutty stranger was, the dream would end and then be repeated. Finally, Robert woke up.
“Man, that was a really weird dream,” Robert muttered to himself. Remembering that he was about to face another day of spitballs he glumly thought to himself, Time to face another day. Robert dressed in his preselected clothing and headed off to school.
Around half way to his place of education, the storm brewing in the sky finally started to release its fury. He ran the rest of the way to school, but by the time he reached the doors he was soaked.
Despite this setback, the day was still starting out okay. He had not spilled his books in the hall… yet. Plus, by third hour he had noticed that people were looking at him differently. He dismissed the odd glances, as he thought people were just noticing the radical change in his appearance. Little did he know that he was more right about that than he had ever been about anything before. Oh, how sad, pathetic, and nerdy he was.
During fourth hour, Paul pointed out, quite humorously, that Robert had an embarrassingly large hole in the seat of his pants. Robert was naturally embarrassed by this knowledge and even more so when his peers realized that Robert had never noticed the strange draft behind him.
He walked up to Mr. Peterson’s desk and politely asked, “May I have a pass to use the bathroom, sir?”
“Okay. But remember that you have to come back because it is against school policy to cut class.”
“Hello?! I’m a nerd—as if I’m going to skip out on my education!”
“You do have a valid point. You are quite nerdy.”
�
��But what about all those druggies in the hall?”
“If we don’t see them, they aren’t really skipping, are they?” Mr. Peterson said looking away from the door.
“You just don’t want them in your class do you?” Robert accused.
“You have your pass. Why aren’t you gone?” he replied as if hiding something.
Robert took the pass and ran out of the room as quickly as possible in an attempt to get to the bathroom quickly.
The storm outside continued to exert its strength by knocking out the school’s entire electrical system. Without giving it a moment of thought, Robert saw his chance to escape from the persecution of the day. He cut to his right and barged through the door. Unfortunately his aim was a tad bit off and he went through the door to the girl’s locker room.
There was a shrieking of female voices as the lights flickered on again. Not just because a nerd got to see them dressing for gym class, but also because the gaping hole in Robert’s pants was so obvious.
“I’m so terribly sorry,” he said. He paused for a moment; frozen as if he did not know what to do next. He thought about how a cool person might handle this situation. “Hello,” he said, as suavely as he could (though it came out more awkwardly than he would have liked).
“Get out, you pervert!” shrieked the collective majority. With a slap to the face, the nearest girl shoved him out the door as the lights gave out again.
He found the correct door this time and dove out into the pouring rain. Although he didn’t much care about the fact he’d be soaking wet soon, he rushed towards his home where he figured he could hide until school got out.
As he crossed the street, two bolts of lightning streaked down from the sky. Both struck the ground in the same place at the same time (kind of bending the laws of nature, huh?). Robert was fatally caught in the middle of the two bolts colliding and fell to the ground.
Moments later a car pulled off to the side of the road and a man and woman got out.
“Check for a pulse, honey,” the woman shouted to the man.
Running over to Robert, the man checked for a pulse. He found one. Then he realized that his wife probably meant for him to check Robert’s pulse—not just his own. As he checked Robert, he found no pulse. Nothing the man could think of did any good in bringing back the pulse. The good Samaritan ran to a nearby house and dialed 911 as a last resort. Not long after the call, an ambulance arrived on the scene and rushed Robert to the hospital.
“Poor guy; he didn’t even have a pair of decent pants to die in,” the man said to his wife.
Upon arrival at the hospital, Robert Mason was pronounced dead.
