Author's Note: Once again I want to thank Techsan for taking time from his busy schedule to edit this story for me. This is a lengthy story so I have divided it into four parts. All four parts were submitted at the same time but may not be posted the same day.
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Chapter 1 - The Beginning
On February 17, 1970, Catherine Butterfield, with her mother Jean at her side, gave birth to a healthy baby boy. There was no birth announcement in the Lexington newspaper and there was no celebration when Catherine and her baby came home from the hospital. Catherine, better know as Kate by her family, had been in a car accident when she was fifteen years old and had suffered a head injury that left her with some minor physical impairments and some not so minor mental problems. Basically, Kate was left with the mental maturity of a ten year old and was never able to progress beyond that. Kate was able to keep up in school but she just wasn't very wise in the ways of the world and when she was seventeen years old one of her classmates took advantage of her and got her pregnant. It was at the end of the school year and the boy that had impregnated Kate had joined the Army and was gone before anyone knew that she was pregnant.
My name is Warren Butterfield and I am Kate Butterfield's son. I was named after my grandfather who had died in the car accident that had caused my mother's injuries. Kate was not capable of being a mother so my grandmother had to take care of both of us. For Grandma Jean it was like having two young kids in the house. I loved Kate but she was more like a sister to me than a mother.
When I was in the fifth grade some of the kids at my school found out about my mother and began to tease me about her.
"Was that your baby sister I saw you with last night? Oh, no. That was your mother, wasn't it?"
I heard something like that almost every day, along with many other stupid comments. I tried to act like it didn't bother me but it did.
Bill McCarty and Craig Mason were in my class at the time and they lived in my neighborhood but I didn't know them very well. Bill was the biggest kid in my class and Craig wasn't much smaller. I was a big kid too but I was a little intimidated by them so I avoided them as much as possible. On my way home from school one afternoon I saw Bill and Craig standing in front of Grandma Jean's house talking to Kate but they left before I reached them. When I asked Kate what they wanted she told me that they were her friends but I didn't trust them. I figured they were making fun of Kate and she just didn't realize it. The next day at school I confronted Bill and Craig. I was really hoping that I wouldn't have to fight Bill because I knew he would kick my ass but I would stand up to him if I had to.
"Stay away from Kate," I said.
"What if I don't, what will you do about it?" Bill McCarty asked.
"Whatever I have to," I said.
Bill just smiled and said, "Don't worry, we're not hurting your mother. She's kinda cool."
"What do you mean by that?" I said.
"She's what? Twenty-eight years old but she acts like one of us. That's cool." Bill said.
"We aren't making fun of her, if that's what you're worried about." Craig said.
"You better not be," I said.
"We better get out of here before he kicks our ass," Bill said and the two of them walked off and left me standing there with my heart pounding so hard that I could feel it in my throat.
A few days after my confrontation with Bill and Craig I finally lost my temper when three other boys from my class started calling me, "the bastard child of a retarded whore."
I lit into them and was able to land several punches before I found myself on the ground with all three boys punching and kicking me. I had curled up into the fetal position to protect myself as best I could when suddenly the attack stopped. When I looked up I saw Bill McCarty and Craig Mason slapping two of my tormentors around and the third was running down the street as fast as he could. When Bill and Craig let the other two go, they were both crying as they ran away.
Bill extended his hand and helped me up and said, "Nice try but maybe you should have tried fighting them one at a time."
I was grateful for their assistance but when I asked them why they came to my aid Craig said, "How would it look if we let those punks beat up a kid from the neighborhood?"
That was the last that was ever said about it except for when Bill or Craig occasionally teased me about my strange fighting style of falling to the ground and rolling into a ball. They never once acted like I owed them anything for their assistance and from that day on the three of us were inseparable
Every night after school and on the weekends we would get together at one of our houses to play. Bill and Craig both had very nice parents, who accepted me as if I was a member of their families. My Grandma Jean treated my friends as their parents treated me, so we all felt welcome in whichever house we happened to find ourselves.
Often on Saturday afternoons in the summer Bill's father would play baseball with us. One day he was hitting fly balls to us and I made a pretty nice diving catch. Bill's father yelled "Nice catch, Butter," and from that moment on my nickname was Butter. Soon after that Craig's nickname became Mace and Bill's became Buck. Those names have stayed with us all these years.
*****
When I was seventeen Grandma Jean's health began to fail and she was having a difficult time taking care of Kate who had developed some slightly more severe mental problems. I wanted to help more but Grandma Jean insisted that I concentrate on my schoolwork so that I would be able to go to college. In the end we had to have Kate institutionalized. It broke Grandma Jean's heart to have to send her daughter away but she just couldn't take care of her anymore.
I didn't know how to feel about my mother being sent away like that. I was relieved that I didn't have to worry about her anymore but I felt guilty at the same time. I hated the idea of visiting her at that mental hospital but I forced myself to go and I always felt better afterward. Kate was perfectly happy with her new surroundings. The drug therapy they were using on Kate had relieved the anxiety that had been the cause of her recent problems. Seeing that Kate was well taken care of and seemed to be happy relieved my guilt and I was sure it eased Grandma Jean's mind.
I tried to visit Kate at least once a week at 'The Home,' as most people referred to the mental hospital, and often either Buck or Mace or both would go with me. Kate thought of Mace and Buck as her friends so their visits always made her happy.
*****
In May of 1988 Buck, Mace and I graduated from high school. We had talked a lot during our senior year about what we wanted to do but I was the only one of the three of us that had a definite plan. I was going to attend the University of Kentucky to study Marketing. The only thing I knew for sure was that Buck and Mace were not planning on going to college.
On graduation night the three of us were at an all night party at the Radisson Hotel with several other friends. We were drinking beer and having a pretty good time when Buck suddenly became serious.
"Guys, I have decided what I am going to do now that I am out of school."
"I know, drive a truck for the sanitation department," Mace said.
"Come on, I'm serious. I am going to join the army," Buck said.
Mace and I were stunned. Buck had never mentioned joining the army before. "Are you shitting me?" Mace said.
"No. I have been thinking about this for more than a year but I never wanted to tell you guys because I knew that you would try to talk me out of it," Buck said.
"Of course we would, you asshole," I said. "You can't run off and join the army. You belong here with us."
"Yeah, right," Buck said. "You're going to college and who the hell knows what Mace is planning. School's out and it's time for us to become men. Besides, I already signed up. I leave for basic training in two weeks."
We were all quiet for a few minutes.
"Listen, you jerk," I said. "If you go off and get yourself killed in some far off place, I'll come over there and kick your ass."
"How you going to kick my ass when you are rolling around on the ground like a big ball?" Buck replied.
We all laughed at that memory.
"All right, so our man is going off to join the army," Mace said as he stood up and climbed onto the bed. "Could I have everyone's attention," Mace shouted.
The rest of the partiers in the room turned to see what Mace was shouting about. When everyone was looking at him he lifted his beer bottle into the air.
"A toast," he said. "Our good friend Buck is going off to join the army. Let's all wish him well and ask that he return to us with lots of medals and no battle scars. Buck, keep your head down low and your ass lower and come back to us in one piece."
Everyone drank to Buck and then went back to their previous conversations.
"Okay, Mace," Buck said. "It's your turn. What are your plans?"
"Long term? I don't know. For now I am going to work for my uncle," Mace said.
Mace's uncle owned a small but growing trucking company and had offered Mace a job in their dispatch office up in Covington. To Mace it was just a job so he wasn't very excited about it.
"Maybe in a couple of years I'll go to Lexington Community College but for now I'll just work for my uncle.
*****
That June, Buck left for the army and Mace moved to his uncle's house in Covington and started working at Bluegrass Transport. I ended up getting a job waiting tables at Applebee's working six to closing. It felt strange not having the guys to hang out with on those long summer days and nights.
When classes started that fall I quickly got into a routine. I attended classes during the day and studied at night except when I was working at Applebee's on Wednesday, Friday and Saturday nights. On Saturday afternoons I visited Kate at the home but in spite of my busy schedule I managed to keep up with my schoolwork and get good grades.
In the fall of 1990, just after I started my junior year at UK, Grandma Jean died of cancer. The cancer had been discovered when I was a senior in high school and she had fought for her life for nearly three years. Living at home, I helped Grandma Jean around the house as much as I could. The hardest part for me was trying to explain to Kate why her mother was no longer able to visit her. I got Kate out of the home and took her to the funeral. She cried the whole time.
After Grandma Jean's death my time was taken up by my schoolwork, my job and my visits with Kate. The doctors at the home told me that Kate was stable now and that she could leave the institution if there was someone to take care of her. As often as I could I would take Kate out to a movie, for a picnic or for dinner at Applebee's but I wasn't in a position to take the responsibility to care for her full time. Grandma Jean had left me the house and enough money to cover the cost of Kate's care for as long as she needed it. I felt bad about leaving Kate in the home but she seemed to be happy there so that relieved some of my guilt.
