The Benny Chronicles

Just to be perfectly clear, I own no rights to Benny Southstreet, or most any other character (other than the original character from Benny's early life) in the story. This story is based on a character from the Musical, Guys and Dolls, whose characters were conceived by the Genius, Damon Runyon.

This is my very first story. I chose Benny because he has been my favorite part that I've ever played. His past has always intrigued me, so I decided to make him one. It includes his family life, his love interests (Nicely being the main one), and how he gets into his line of work. I'm not sure how hot-and-heavy this will get, so I'm rating it M, just in case. Here goes it.

Chapter one: A Tragic Beginning

"Get your ass in here, boy", said Pa. I knew I'd done something stupid again. It was practically second nature to me by now.

"Leave him be, Ernest", Momma pleaded. "The boy's only eight. In another month, he'll be out of your hair and in some teaching girl's."

"I don't give two shits, Carolina! He knows better'n ta get inta my room!"

I crept silently away. The argument was sure to last another hour or so.

I snuck out of the ramshackle hovel Momma and Pa called Home. I ran to a stream that was about an acre away from the house, which was shaded by a small grove of trees. I took off my shoes and pants and just kicked my feet in the water. After about a half an hour, I found a nice long stick, a sturdy piece of string and tried to catch the minnows swimming around. The summer was nice and warm. That little meadow was where my heart lay, and it would for many years to come.

Momma and Pa were still in a huge fight. I could hear them loud and clear, even from this distance.

"I don't care if he's two! He needs to get his shit in order!"

"Ernest, please. He's probably already gone down by the creek. Let's just both calm down, and I'll fix us some supper."

What neither of them knew was that the stove had been left on, unlit. After an hour or two, the gas leaked all over the house. When Momma went to light the stove, an explosion was heard all across the small town of Easton. When the sound wave hit me, I tensed up. I knew it was my house. I ran.

When I got to the house, a gaping hole was where the kitchen should have been. I saw Momma lying still in the middle of the floor of the hole; only she didn't look like Momma anymore. Pa was slumped over in a corner with a Frying pan sticking out of his skull. My stomach emptied itself onto the grass.

When the volunteer fire department finally arrived, they found me huddled on the ground, crying my eyes out. I was now an orphan, and nobody wanted me.

I looked up at the men who were grabbing at me and ran from them. I ran to the meadow, the only place I had ever felt at home, and I cried.

When the sun hit my face the next morning, I was still crying. I thought I would die from all the liquid I had been letting out. My stomach growled in protest. I ignored it.

A boy came through the clearing in the trees. I hid in the tall grass because I was afraid he would make fun of me. Unfortunately, the boy saw me before I could be hidden.

"Are you the boy my dad has been looking for all night?" he asked me. "Is your name Benny Southstreet?"

"What's it ta you?" I didn't care if it sounded rude. I was hurting.

"Well, he wishes me to extend an invitation to you," The boy replied. He was very well spoken for an eight year-old, although given his parentage, I wasn't too shocked. "He would like to know if you would live with us, seeing as you have no family left to take care of you. If you don't want to, the orphanage in New York City would be happy to take you."

I was taken aback at this. Not even my own Pa had wanted me, and here is a man I didn't even know asking for me. "What's the catch, Bozo?"

"My name is Anthony," He replied sorely, "And there is no 'Catch'. We Johnsons give to the needy out of the Kindness of our hearts." The tone of his voice dripped with snobbery and familial pride. Suddenly it hit me.

"Wait, you're Tony Johnson?" His was a name that everyone knew, on account that his parents were Demetrius and Estelle Johnson, the richest folk in all of Rural New York. Some of the kids called him Tony 'Nicely-Nicely' Johnson because of his social standing.

"Like I mentioned before, it's Anthony. Now are you coming or aren't you?"

To live in the lap of Luxury in the Johnson Mansion was every boy's dream! "Of course I'm comin'. Lead the way, Anthony." I managed to add plenty of mocking to his name.

We walked toward the house of the illustrious Johnson family at a quickened pace. My stomach was finally getting to me.

"You must be starved," Tony said with a smile. "We'll have Jessica bring you some Waffles when we arrive."

After my breakfast, Mister Johnson came to speak to me.

"Hello my boy. Benny, is it?" I nodded. "I take it Anthony has explained your living conditions within the house?"

"No, sir, he hasn't." I began to suspect that Tony hadn't told me everything.

"Ah. Well, you should know that you'll be sleeping in the servant's quarters. In the mornings, you will rise and help the Chef prepare breakfast. After that, you will do whatever Anthony has in mind for you to do. We will pay you as we pay the rest of our servants. Is this clear enough to you?"

My jaw immediately fell. I had been tricked into becoming the grand family's servant!

My heart sank lower than the floor.