This a test

Mr. Truss was put off by this little fart’s impertinence. However, he slapped the test down on Butty’s desk, and walked quickly to the front of the room. “You have 45 minutes. Keep your eyes on your test. Anybody who cheats automatically flunks. When you complete the test, bring it to my desk and return to your seat.”

Eight minutes into the test, the silence was broken by the sound of a desk being moved, followed by little footsteps. Mr. Truss sternly ordered, “Butty Whore,” (the class snickered), “you were told to stay seated until you’re finished. Now please return to your desk.” At this point, Butty put his test in front of Mr. Truss and returned to his desk, which he had moved out of the corner. Mr. Truss glanced down at the “little fart’s” test. Then he skimmed through the five pages. “Holy cow, Jaysus Keekeeryst,” he shouted within himself. Butty had answered every question perfectly—an A plus. And Mr. Truss graded on the curve, so the rest of the class had flunked.

Butty was instantly promoted to a sophomore at J. Xavier Foarskenn High School, arguably the best there is. Also, several leading universities had shown an interest in the craziness surrounding this little four year old from Hoboken.

Butty lasted only two weeks at J. Xavier Foarskenn. The principal became perturbed at Butty’s tendency to jump ahead of everybody, students and teachers as well. The principal put out the word to Butty’s teachers to knock him off his high horse a little. The physics teacher, Dr. Davinchi Kjnesissecto, responded to the principal’s suggestion by making Butty stay after school and clean the blackboards and erasers. The next morning, Dr. Kjnesissecto entered the classroom, early as usual, to find all 25 feet of the blackboard totally covered with a chalk-rendered equation. He was stupefied. He called the principal to come take a look. The principal, in turn, called the head of the Princeton Physics Department, who in turn called MIT.

All the students in the class, except Butty, were moved to another classroom for a week, to allow the elite physicists to study the equation and to question Butty, if needed. They tried to determine what it all meant. The equation was copied and sent to a select group of the world’s top scientists.

When they finally got around to questioning Butty, he gave them what they were looking for. They were stunned.

Butty was immediately given a job at Princeton with a promise made to MIT, Berkeley and Oxford to share in the work ahead that would make Butty’s elegant answer to one of the great mysteries of recorded history a reality.

Butty told them, in no uncertain terms, that his equation revealed the cure for cancer. “What do you mean?” they asked in absolute disbelief. Then, they turned to each other. “What could this little one know about such an enormous problem?” They literally turned their backs to Butty while they discussed the situation. After all, they agreed, their reputations were at stake. They were relying on the word of a four year old. At this point, Butty stood up and went through the extremely complicated equation step by step—all 25 feet of it. He explained using abstract Euclidean geometry, quantum trigonometry, basic math, marine biology, singularities, corn genetics and a theory on consciousness. His audience stood in awe, as if they were witnessing God in action.

Butty’s parents were very happy for this great honor of being his parents. However, they didn’t quite understand how this could be possible. Ruddy and Layzee were worried about Butty going away from home, but acquiesced to promises of exceptional care and assurances that they would be able to visit him anytime.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Studebaker

The work began to make Butty’s equation a reality—a miracle medicine. The little four-year-old Butty became the man of the hour. He was involved at every step. The great scientists of the world forgot he was just four as they worked

into the night without a break. Butty seemed to have energy to spare and often worked on when others tired. Rumors of the project leaked out, but the public didn’t really take it seriously; there had been so many false hopes before. An old friend of Butty’s, the substitute teacher for Miss MacPekkanncy, who now was a professor of physics, Dr. Willie Einstein Mississippi, joined the project. Butty was happy to see him, and they took up right away where they left off in the fourth grade. They quickly became close friends. Dr. Willie began to contribute almost immediately.

He stuck close to Butty and became like a big brother to the little genius. They conversed frequently, about the project and life in general. At lunch on one particularly grueling day, Dr. Willie asked Butty, “What made this equation come to you? Did you have a reason? How did it happen?”

Butty replied, “Of course I had a reason. Necessity is the mother of invention. Ruddy is my father. He will die soon if I do nothing.” Dr. Willie was shocked. He had seen Butty’s father often when he and Butty’s mother visited their son. He looked healthy, and nothing had been mentioned about health problems.

Ruddy had been doing very well at his work. He had moved up another notch when Frarn retired. And there were rumors that Zip was retiring soon, and Ruddy would be the logical choice to be the new head man.

Dr. Willie wrestled with what to do about what Butty had told him about Ruddy. He finally decided to go visit the Whores.

Dr. Willie sat Ruddy and Layzee down and made them promise never to tell Butty he had come to see them. They promised. Then Dr. Willie told them about the conversation he had had with Butty. Ruddy smiled sadly. Layzee started to cry softly. They both instantly thought of the two paths in the dead forest and of Butty’s choosing the right one. Then they thought of Butty’s leading them to the train, of his wanting them to get off the train, and how they didn’t, and how they had to face the beasts as a result, and about their amazing entry onto the Russian submarine, and the miraculous radar thing.

He was the little Captain. They knew there would be trouble ahead.

They thanked Dr. Willie and promised never to tell Butty he had given them the bad news.

Zip personally took Ruddy to the best doctor he could find. Zip and Dollette had researched and got references and personal testimonials before they made the appointment. They had been devastated by Dr. Willie’s news.

The verdict was the worst. The melanoma had metastasized. Ruddy’s entire body was being overrun by the evil cells. The cancer doctor assured Ruddy he’d try everything in the book. Ruddy wanted the truth. “Die I how long?”

The doctor said, “I don’t want you thinking negatively. We’re going to counterattack, and we’ll need your will to win.” The truthful answer would have been “a month, maybe two.”

Ruddy was brave. He told a sobbing Layzee, “You must brave too be.”

Millions of cancer patients before Ruddy had braved the horrendous debilitating effects of chemotherapy. Ruddy was no exception; he suffered to the maximum. There was no sign of remission. The disease continued to advance. Ruddy decided to cease the treatments so he and Layzee could have a few good days together before he went. The night after he made the decision, Ruddy lay close to Layzee. Her warmth comforted his deteriorating body and soul. They both fell into a deep sleep and shared the same dream: They were walking like they were on their great trek. The environment, however, was different. They were in clean clothes and both were feeling great. It was a beautiful twilight scene. To their left and right were fields filled with white dots of cotton, and a warm breeze was at their backs, helping them along. Behind them, a car appeared on the horizon. They turned to look and stepped off the road onto the gravel shoulder, where they stood holding hands. The car approached and slowed. The 1950 gray Studebaker Champion stopped beside them, and a young man in the passenger seat asked them if they would like a ride. Another young man got out of the backseat and held the door open for them to get in. Ruddy and Layzee sat in the back. The boys were in the front.

One turned and introduced the driver. “That’s Corporal Anacudder. He’s PFC Bayou, and I’m PFC Tracer.”

Ruddy responded, “Me Ruddy Whore, and wife her Layzee Whore.”

The boys laughed heartily, and PFC Tracer announced, “We’re jarheads.”

The road led into a small rural community, which soon became a small town. They pulled into a dusty parking area in front of a block-long old dilapidated building. Many people were milling around, having much fun. “This is as far as we go.” Corporal Anacudder apologized. “We’re going to the concert. You can get tickets right up there.”

PFC Bayou nudged Corporal Anacudder hard. The corporal looked (kind of pissed) at PFC Bayou, but then he got the idea. He said to Ruddy, “You wait here. I’ll be right back.” Ruddy, still holding Layzee’s hand, wondered what they should do, which way they should go. Corporal Anacudder returned with two tickets for Ruddy and Layzee. “You folks enjoy yourselves. You enter at that door where the old fat guy in his undershirt is collecting the tickets.”

Ruddy thanked him—very much. “Thank good jar man much very.” The three jarheads laughed wildly.

Ruddy and Layzee entered the old building and were amazed at the huge interior. There was a fence right down the middle, leading to the stage. A big red-faced man pointed Ruddy and Layzee to the right side of the chicken-wire fence.

The building filled with happy, laughing people, with white people on one side of the flimsy fence and black people on the other side. They had traveled in dream time to a 1955 North Carolina.

The concert began, as a small black man with a high hairdo rattled the old building with a rousing “Long Tall Sally,” followed by “Slippin’ and a Slidin.’” PFC Bayou shouted, “That’s Little Richard, rock and roll.” As the glorious concert continued, Ruddy and Layzee had an out-of-body experience. They flew like doves up to the rafters and buffeted around on the rockin’ rhythms of LaVern Baker, Big Joe Turner, Jerry Lee Lewis, Chuck Berry, Smiley Lewis and the Coasters; and then they swooped down and landed among the black folks and felt the energy generated by the astounding Bo Diddley. And then they lifted off again. This time they landed back in their seats just as an anticipatory crowd began to roar. And then God came on stage. The audience jumped up in unison, and the roar became deafening. PFC Tracer, standing behind Ruddy, gave him a bear hug and yelled out like a gospel preacher, “Oh, Jesus, God, it’s him.” Fats Domino hit the keys and began, “Ain’t that a shame….” He did thirty songs. There was a huge ovation, and Fats came back and did ten more. He bumped his piano across the stage on his finale, “I’m Walkin’.” The crowd stood and cheered and chanted for Fats for 20 minutes. But Fats had left the old tobacco warehouse. Ruddy realized it was all worth it. Layzee looked at Ruddy and nodded her head. “Oh, yes.” Ruddy looked to his left and saw that the fence had come down.

That morning at breakfast Ruddy started to tell Layzee about the incredibly realistic dream. Layzee cut in: “I know. I was with you. What’s a jarhead?”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

the chip

After the night of the dream, Ruddy began to fade fast. Layzee was at his side constantly. Zip and Dollette were always nearby. Dollette became Swetty’s personal babysitter. She loved that baby.

Layzee held Ruddy’s hand tightly. Ruddy could only whisper as he asked for Butty. Ruddy was approaching the end. Zip had phoned Princeton, and they said Butty was on the way with Dr. Willie.

Butty and Dr. Willie were at Ruddy’s side an hour later. Dr. Willie carried a small metal briefcase. Butty hugged Ruddy and asked what seemed like a silly question: “Are you hungry, Daddy?” Dr. Willie opened the case and pulled out a plastic bag. Butty took the bag and opened it. He removed what looked like a potato chip. Butty and Dr. Willie raised Ruddy up with another pillow. Ruddy’s glazed eyes were half open, and he smiled at Butty and whispered, “You right always when do.” And with that Ruddy took a bite of the chip. It seemed to vaporize in his mouth instantly. He finished it and smiled. “Please now rock and roll Fats Domino.” Layzee couldn’t hear him, but she read his lips. She put a stack of vintage Fats 45s on the turntable.

This was the first test of Butty’s equation to cure the deadly disease. Not even rats had been tested with it.

The fourth day after Ruddy ate the chip, Layzee awoke to find him in the kitchen poking around in the refrigerator, asking, “Is where the butter is peanut?”

Ruddy was cured completely of the dastardly, deadly disease in just four days.

Other tests on desperate, terminally ill cancer patients were absolutely 100 percent successful. Mass production began, and the world was on its way to being free of cancer.

Butty stood on a table in front of reporters from every nook and cranny of the world and was asked, “How does it work?” “What’s in it?” “How much does it cost the patients?”

Butty answered, “My equation found a common denominator and told us how to destroy it with a corn by- product, although other crops can be used. And the cost is free. Thank you very much. I have to go now and work on other problems.”

Ruddy got his strength back and was most anxious to get back to work. He was on the job working full tilt within two weeks.

Zip did retire. Ruddy was chosen unanimously to be the top man of the company. The new name was emblazoned on the top of the steel mill in a molten red animated sign: “FROSTACELLI WHORE Steel Works.”

Ruddy still talked backwards and sideways, but he always made his point, and the company prospered. Ruddy never forgot the workers. Every chance he got he’d show up on the floor and help repair a greasy “behemoth,” and then clean up the area afterwards. He’d ruined a dozen suits. Layzee wouldn’t let him wear them if they had grease spots larger than his fist. When she insisted he buy new suits, he went to secondhand stores. Layzee had no idea he was wearing used suits.

Layzee became the chief goat herder. Ruddy’s time was limited to milking just 30 goats every morning before going to the plant. The herd had grown to 417 head. Ruddy and Layzee expanded their property. They bought another 45 acres that stretched though a woods behind their house and down to a small river. Layzee milked an additional 135 goats every day and was doing business with the Ahromah Brothers Cheese Company. She now spoke perfect English, and was getting quite a reputation as a sharp business person.

The day Butty turned five, he was in Berkeley at the University of California Laboratory of Medical Science.

Butty, with Dr. Willie Einstein Mississippi, made the earth-shaking announcement that Butty had done it again. This time Butty’s equation was short and sweet. It was the cure for AIDS. The medicine was tested on 1,000 full-blown cases and all were 100 percent free of the virus within a week.

A vaccine to prevent all viruses in general was also revealed.

It was dizzying to the public, as if God had suddenly made a surprise attack.

“I’m not God.” Butty spoke to the world press from his little second-floor apartment window on the Princeton campus. “But I do have ideas for some good things, and with the help of Dr. Willie Einstein Mississippi and the rest of these good, smart people, I will keep on working. I’m five now.”

“Butty Whore” became a magic name. Already schools, streets, hospitals and newborns were being named after him. There was a proposal to change Hoboken’s name to “Butty Whoreville.” Butty quashed that idea by telling the city fathers, “I love my Hoboken.”

Most of the diseases on Butty’s hit list fell to his ideas. His superbly complicated equations always came down to a simple, workable solution. The world took notice. Butty was an international celebrity, an enigma, a hero. Butty wasn’t interested. He and Dr. Willie remained secluded. Butty had many ideas yet to render, and Dr. Willie was his partner.

It was inevitable that Butty would be forced into a whole new arena: politics. The candidates, as well as the incumbent president, began to seek Butty’s endorsement in the coming election. Dr. Willie strongly advised Butty not to endorse any of them. Butty agreed with Dr. Willie. They kept working.

They went into seclusion at the Oxford University Laboratories in England. Butty was driven by an idea he had been thinking about for quite a while, ever since Miss MacPekkancy’s 100-megaton classroom breakdown.

Butty’s equation was 178 feet long. It dealt with mental illness—all forms, including schizophrenia, paranoia, bipolar disorder, dementia, Alzheimer’s and related disorders.

The equation took a mathematical tour through the brain, making use of neutrons by splicing them with photons and colliding them with the smallest particle yet found—so small, it didn’t exist, and that was just a start. It was a total abstraction to all. Except Butty. They named this particle that was so small it didn’t exist the “Butty Whore Particle.” After three weeks of 18-hour days, Butty’s 178-foot equation became a syrup in a medicine bottle: “One tablespoonful every 12 hours for a week.” It was a shock treatment for many mental institutions. They went out of business. Thousands of mentally ill people were treated and were sane in a week.

The Queen came to Oxford to meet Butty and Dr. Willie. Butty stood with the Queen in an open window of the laboratory and spoke to a large gathering of students and faculty on the lawn below. “We’re happy for those who are back with us today because of our efforts. Sanity has come to thousands. We must keep on working—all of us good, smart people. Thank you, Mrs. Queen, and all of the good English people.”

Later that day, the Queen got creative herself. In Oxford’s largest lecture hall, before a jam-packed audience, she broke tradition and knighted a five-year-old Yank, “Sir Butty Whore.” She used a wood blackboard pointer with a black rubber tip in lieu of the sword.

Back in the USA, the presidential hopefuls and the president himself gave up on trying to get Butty’s endorsement. Still, Butty was invited to come and address both houses of Congress. Dr. Willie thought that would be a good idea. Butty was fearless. He agreed to speak.

Butty and Dr. Willie met the president, and then Butty climbed the rostrum and stood on a specially made wood box. His head barely appeared over the top of the podium.

There was a polite chuckle in the crowded gallery. The gavel sounded, and a stentorian voice filled the great room: “Ladies and gentlemen, Sir Butty Whore.”

It took 10 minutes for the cheers and applause to cease.

Butty talked for a mere 15 minutes, during which he covered most of the world’s problems, and how he could solve them with his equations. It was like the Sermon on the Mount.

He concluded with “I love the USA. I love the Bill of Rights. I now will return to Princeton and work.” Butty left quickly as the room erupted in one explosive roar of approval; Butty had heard nothing, because he was in such deep thought about an equation in the making. Dr. Willie led Butty to a waiting cab and they were off to work.

Ruddy and Layzee with Zip and Dollette had just watched Butty’s big speech and were all stunned. Ruddy was proud of how well his son had spoken. “Little Butty learn how he what say.” They all shook their heads and laughed. Then they went back to their card game, Old Maid. Ruddy loved the simplicity of the game. “Someone lose always me not.”

Butty’s speech was the talk of the world. Ideas began to percolate about the five-year-old super genius. Both political conventions demanded that he be put on the November ballot. This was unthinkable to most of Congress, as well as the president and his supporters. “Absolutely absurd,” the president remarked. “A five-year-old physicist running for president. Hell, you have to be 35 to even run. It’s impossible.”

The attorney general timidly cautioned, “Well, sir, rumor has it that the house is going to propose an amendment for a no age limit.”

“Oh, for Kryssake. Have they gone bug-fuck nuts?” the exasperated president roared.

Relieved to be back in the lab and away from politics Butty got right at a problem that was crippling the USA and the world: expensive, dirty energy. His equation was a brain buster. It involved black holes, entropy, acid reflux, gluons and the Vatican. The result was what Butty named “Nano Juice.” It was a pure, clear liquid with a Nano engine in every molecule. It was easily produced and could power anything, and heat or cool anything. The tests were successful beyond the world’s wildest dreams. Butty was happy. “Nano Juice has fulfilled our expectations.” A Piper Cub flew around the moon and back, and landed safely at Newark Airport on a quart of Nano Juice. Butty went along for the ride. Seven million homes were heated for a month on a gallon of Nano Juice. Cars were getting a thousand miles to the ounce. The emission from Nano Juice was negative; it actually ate up any existing pollution and it restored the Ozone layer.

Nano Juice really captured the world’s attention. Butty’s computer burnt up from email overload. He received six million emails in the first hour after the announcement of Nano Juice.

Butty addressed the world via a new satellite powered by Nano Juice. “Nano Juice is a fuel for forever. As long as there’s a universe, we will have unlimited clean energy.

Thank you. I will go rest now and think of some more good ideas next week.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Silverback

Butty was flown to the Masai Mara in Kenya. He made it from MIT in three hours on a Nano Juice powered, high-speed, high-altitude helicopter. Dr. Willie had recommended a little rest and recreation, and Butty realized he had never taken a vacation. After looking at many brochures he decided on Africa. His first stop was Kenya’s great Masai Mara. He discovered his love for animals. He hugged a rhino, took a swim with a whole bunch of hippos, he kissed a crocodile on the lips and played flag football with 27 Masai warriors. The game was interrupted by a pride of lions who stole the ball (a stuffed warthog) and a half dozen of the players. In Rwanda, Butty climbed through the bamboo and sat with a 500-pound Silverback Mountain Gorilla. The Silverback’s family, four wives and a dozen offspring, all sat in a circle around Daddy Silverback and Butty. Butty and the magnificent gorilla exchanged ideas for more than an hour. Butty decided it was time to go. The big guy wanted him to stay and join his family. Butty stood to say goodbye. The big leathery hand swallowed Butty’s, and the family all gathered around and gently hugged him. Butty looked deeply into the eyes of the big daddy, and at that instant realized: “We have a long way to go to catch up with these folks.” Those two big black watery eyes were forever recorded in high definition in Butty’s memory. He turned to take one more look, and they were gone. Butty bawled like a baby as he walked back down the path through the beautiful bamboo forest. It was a good cry.

He left Africa feeling rested and “recreationed,” just as Dr. Willie had recommended.

Butty went home to Mom and Dad and sister Swetty. It was his first time home since Ruddy’s illness. Butty was not aware of the worldwide call for him to run for the presidency. His name would not be on the ballot. If anyone chose to vote for Butty, they would have to write his name on the ballot. Ruddy told Butty what was happening. Butty shrugged and said, “If the USA wants me, they will write ‘Butty Whore’ on the ballot. In the meantime, I have much work to do. I see the goat herd has grown.”

Layzee told him of the business they now had. “We’re selling 200 gallons of goat’s milk a week to a cheese maker, and a fertilizer firm buys the goats’ manure, 50 tons a month.”