by Doug Draper
Eager to see the dispute end, Ben snatched the broom off the floor and demonstrated how a boy with enthusiasm sweeps the floor. The entire time he kept an eye on his father to make sure the lit fuse had been pulled out of the dynamite and the house would be safe. While sweeping, he wondered if his mother’s new no-hit rule applied to both her daughters and sons.
A few days later, Rachel caught Joe and Ben teaming up against Debbie with name-calling and jabs to the ribs because she had done something to annoy them. Instead of telling them to stop, she calmly posed a question. “Are you being mean to Debbie because your dad treats you that way?”
Swallowed up in immediate and deep regret, Ben decided to start treating Debbie the same way he wanted to be treated—with kindness and respect.
CHAPTER 29
Ben’s decision to show his sister kindness and respect didn’t change how others treated him. He still had to endure frequent bullying at school and home. A speck of hope came through an experience created by his seventh-grade science teacher, Mr. Gaufin. It gave him the strength to keep going.
Mr. Gaufin offered all students in his classes the chance to do extra credit science projects. Most of them ignored the proposal while a few selected a project to boost their grades. Ben signed up for three projects because they looked fun.
The projects required learning more about biology or geology, conducting experiments, and preparing a report. Ben selected topics that blended science with his love for the mountains. They included tracking wildlife, analyzing water samples, and documenting tree species.
“I usually don’t have a student eager to do so much extra credit,” Mr. Gaufin said. “Perhaps you should start with one project and then see if you still want to do all three.”
Having more ambition and confidence than normal, Ben promised his teacher that he would do all three—and planned to give each one of them his best effort. When he showed the project requirements to his mother, she praised his initiative and told him that she would be excited to see his research results.
The first project focused on tracking wildlife by searching for signs of animals traveling along streams and other places. Ben documented footprints found in muddy or sandy soil, recording when and where he discovered the footprints, and sketching them in his “scientific journal.” Even though the journal was only an inexpensive, spiral-bound notebook, Ben pictured himself as a serious scientist.
After a couple of trips into the mountains, he decided to work on all three projects at the same time because they overlapped. He could document the trees he passed when collecting water samples and looking for wildlife footprints.
Eight weeks later, Ben went to his science class a few minutes early and submitted his reports to Mr. Gaufin who reviewed them with a smile.
“Impressive work, Ben,” he said several times as he turned each page slowly and pointed out observations that he found “scholarly.” Ben never expected his reports to receive such a careful and positive review.
“What amazes me is that you’re already getting an A in class and don’t need the extra credit,” he said. “Why did you put so much effort into these projects?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sure, you do. Go ahead and tell me. I’d like to hear what motivated you.”
“Well, it’s what I love doing.”
“OK. That’s a good start. Why?”
“I like hiking in the mountains. That’s how I spend my free time.”
Mr. Gaufin smiled and asked Ben to elaborate.
“I might be weird, but learning more about the things around me is fun—like the names of the trees and animals out there. And the wildlife tracking project made me look for signs that I never noticed before.”
“You’ve applied one of the keys to scientific research—observation!”
The teacher’s dramatic statement became the end of the conversation and the beginning of the classroom discussion. “Let’s talk more after class,” he said while pointing at Ben’s desk as a cue to sit down.
“I’m pleased to report that through extra-credit work, Ben Baker has shown the potential to be a scientist,” Mr. Gaufin said, holding up the projects as he strolled across the front of the room. “He has combined his love of nature with science to produce outstanding work. I can see him someday working as a botanist or biologist for the National Park Service or a wildlife group dedicated to protecting our environment.”
Ben wished his dad could hear this. He would be shocked that someone who had graduated from college with a science degree thought that Ben could become a scientist. He might be “stupid and lazy” in his dad’s eyes, but a science expert could see him getting a respectable job.
After Mr. Gaufin delivered his encouraging remarks, the boy behind Ben blew a dark cloud his way. He leaned forward, punched Ben in the back, and whispered, “Quit wasting your time sucking up to the teacher. You’ll never be anything but a chicken farmer.”
Mr. Gaufin heard the whispering and turned to face the class, but Ben’s antagonist quickly leaned away and held his tongue. The moment of glory for Ben had turned into another reminder that the wolves in the class still viewed him as the weakest lamb—and they wanted to make sure he remembered it.
A few other adults encouraged Ben to dream of a better life. They included the man who served as both his Sunday school teacher and scoutmaster, Gene Augustine—or, as the boys called him, “Brother Augustine,” in line with their Mormon traditions. He led the Boy Scout troop on Wednesdays and for occasional weekend camping trips. On Sundays, he traded his scout uniform for a business suit and tried to teach a class of sullen teenage boys who deliberately made it an unrewarding task.
Behind his back, the boys criticized him for being a “nerd” and looking geeky, wimpy, and scrawny. Gene stood only five-feet, five-inches tall, weighed about 125 pounds, and wore thick glasses. He didn’t look like an outdoorsman or someone who could do physical labor. He spoke softly, and his demeanor oozed with insecurity. He projected a sense of weakness that made him a “target.”
Because Gene demonstrated a willingness to report unruly behavior to the boys’ parents, they used sneak attacks to torment him. And when caught pulling a prank on him or making a rude comment, they would blow it off by saying, “We were just kidding.”
The ridicule included his old tattered Sunday suit that was at least one size too large for him. The boys laughed when saying he must have bought it secondhand and that he looked like a beggar. They also joked about his suit being stained and smelling like vomit. With his four small children always clinging to him and spitting up, the observations about his suit were unkind but accurate.
Ben joined the jeering, not as a leader in spewing out the insults but as someone who laughed behind his back. Instead of taking a stand against disrespectful behavior, he chose the easier, less honorable route and played along with the cruel game.
When Gene tried to teach the boys in his Sunday school class, they leaned forward with their elbows on their thighs, staring at the floor and never volunteering to read or answer a question. They went overboard in making it clear that they had no interest in anything “Brother Augustine” had to say. Wanting to fit in, Ben followed the crowd with his actions, but he found it impossible to ignore his teacher.
Gene talked about treating others the way you want them to treat you, forgiving people who had offended you and honoring your father and mother even when it wasn’t seen as the “cool” thing to do. He read verses from the Bible and Book of Mormon to support these ideas and used examples from his life that illustrated the advantages of taking the right path in life.
At the end of every class, Gene asked one of the boys to pray. He occasionally could convince someone like Ben’s big brother to pray, but he usually ended up praying because all his students refused. When one of them agreed, the words shot out like a machine gun firing a blast of memorized expressions. When listening to Gene pray, Ben had the sense his teacher was talking to someone real, not an imaginary characte
r. And his prayers touched on challenges in life that Ben understood.
The disinterest displayed in Gene’s Sunday school class usually didn’t rattle him and he only expressed frustration with his students on a few occasions. On one Sunday, they burned through his patience by going too far in demonstrating their apathy. He criticized the boys for ignoring him and said they had fulfilled prophecy—the same as people had done nearly 2,000 years ago.
He quoted Acts in the Bible, saying that their ears were dull of hearing and their eyes were closed. “If you would only listen, open your eyes and understand with your heart, God will heal you. How can you know what God wants to do for you if you continue to ignore what scripture says?”
Even though Ben continued to stare at the floor, he listened and thought about this message. He wanted to encourage Gene to say more. At the same time, he knew the other boys in the room would mock him for trying to be the teacher’s pet.
Gene’s passionate plea left Ben wondering about the promise—“God will heal you.” He wanted to know what that meant because he had some sort of sickness. He couldn’t easily describe the symptoms, but he knew that deep inside of him something wasn’t quite right. And he desperately wanted to fix it.
CHAPTER 30
The “fix” didn’t come through Boy Scouts, but Ben received comfort from the applause and compliments that accompanied his advancement through the ranks and collection of new merit badges every month. After two years of steady progress, the requirement to earn the lifesaving merit badge stood as Ben’s only roadblock to becoming an Eagle Scout. He had already received the swimming merit badge, but the requirements for lifesaving went far beyond his skills. Excited about being so close to his goal, Ben enrolled in a lifesaving course at a pool in Provo shortly after his fourteenth birthday.
On the first day, Ben’s instructor, Cliff Barrington, a student and swim team member at Brigham Young University, looked at him with concern and asked, “How much do you weigh?”
“Sixty-eight pounds,” Ben said with assurance, having been weighed a week earlier. On each birthday, Ben’s mother measured his height and weight, keeping track of the information in a scrapbook.
“Well, here’s the problem. I don’t know how you’re going to be able to demonstrate a cross-chest carry on me. I weigh three times more than you.”
“I can do it. Trust me. I’m much stronger than I look.”
“We’ll see. Keep coming to class and I’ll test you in the final week.”
Three weeks later, the door for Ben to become an Eagle Scout opened much wider. All his lifesaving badge requirements were completed except for the cross-chest carry. He faced his instructor poolside—ready for the final challenge.
When standing next to Cliff, Ben understood his instructor’s concern about their size difference and recognized that this test presented a physical challenge beyond anything he had ever tried. But he had no choice. His mother believed that he could earn this merit badge and sat nearby to watch him.
“OK, lifeguard, save me,” Cliff said as he jumped into the pool. “I’m a tired but cooperative swimmer and need you to get me to dry ground. To earn your merit badge, you must carry me to the far end of the pool and back without stopping.”
“Got it,” Ben said, joining him in the pool.
While Cliff imitated a tired swimmer, Ben played the lifeguard role and went through the procedure that he had learned. He began by making sure the person to be rescued was calm and ready to cooperate. Then, he swam behind Cliff and reached his arm across his muscular chest. Ben struggled to complete that step because his arm needed to be at least six inches longer to do the carry correctly.
“That’s good enough,” Cliff said. “Let’s get going. I won’t fight you unless you slow down or stop—and then you’ll have a problem because I’ll pretend to panic.”
With one arm wrapped over the chest of the “tired swimmer,” Ben used a side stroke with his free arm and a scissor kick to create momentum. The journey began slowly because of the weight issue. It took all of Ben’s strength to move Cliff and the man’s bulk pushed Ben down so that he had difficulty breathing without swallowing water at the same time.
When Ben choked and started coughing, Cliff asked, “Hey, lifeguard, are you all right?”
“Yep, don’t worry about me. Lay back and relax. I’ll get you to shore in no time.”
Ben solved the breathing problem by taking a deep breath and then swimming slightly below the water’s surface. This tactic made it much easier to tow Cliff.
When Ben neared the turnaround point, Cliff rolled over and lifted him out of the water. “Hey, are you drowning? You’ve been under the water a long time and are worrying me.”
Ben took a few deep breaths and said, “I’m fine. Underwater swimming works better for me. Let’s finish this. We’re almost halfway there.”
Cliff smiled and rolled back into his floating position. “OK, you’re the boss.”
Ben resumed his underwater technique and soon reached the wall. He popped up for a deep breath and spun Cliff around for the return trip. Toward the end of that lap, he started to feel a bit lightheaded and his body craved oxygen, but he swam the entire length of the pool without taking a breath. At the wall, Ben came up and pushed Cliff toward the pool ladder.
“There you go,” he said while drawing in several deep breaths. “You’re safe.”
Cliff laughed as Ben clung to the side of the pool panting.
“Ben, there’s no way I’m going to approve you to apply for a lifeguard job until you’ve grown about a foot taller and put on more muscle, but I’ll definitely sign off on your merit badge. What you lack in size, you make up for in heart. Congratulations!”
They shook hands and climbed out of the pool. Ben’s legs and arms trembled as he followed Cliff along the deck to where Rachel waited. Despite the fatigue, he felt great.
“Mrs. Baker, your son shows a lot of determination. I’ll approve his lifesaving merit badge. Let me dry off and then I’ll complete the paperwork.”
Rachel congratulated Ben and handed him a towel. He dried himself and then slipped on a shirt and sandals for the trip back to Alma. “I’m very proud of you for setting a goal to become an Eagle Scout and doing what you needed to achieve it. This is something you’ll value for the rest of your life.”
Ben gushed with excitement when telling Joe that he had earned the lifesaving merit badge and now had all Eagle rank requirements completed except for his service project, which he planned to finish in a few weeks.
“That’s not fair,” Joe said. “I couldn’t get time off work to take that course.”
When Joe had joined Boy Scouts, he plodded along at a sluggish pace with the rest of the scouts in the troop for eighteen months. That’s when his little brother entered the troop and launched a zealous pursuit of the Eagle Scout honor. Joe noticed the results and a race between the brothers began. Soon, Joe and Ben were advancing through the ranks as fast as the guidelines allowed.
Ben welcomed the competition, having finally found something that required his big brother to keep up with him. “The next course starts on Tuesday,” Ben said. “You can sign up and still get it done this summer.”
Motivated by Ben’s proximity to winning the race to Eagle Scout, Joe took the next course and passed without any challenge, but the delay allowed Ben to qualify for his Eagle Scout award first. Even though Ben could have received his badge at an award ceremony before his brother, Rachel thought it would be special to have her sons receive their badges together. Ben reluctantly agreed to wait a month.
Joe and Ben received many compliments for their perseverance in earning the honor to be called Eagle Scouts. Ben especially enjoyed the moment of recognition because it provided proof that he wasn’t stupid and lazy—he could accomplish an important goal. And he loved doing something that forced his big brother to scramble to keep up.
CHAPTER 31
Until Ben earned his Eagle Scout award, he needed to g
o on campouts to meet the requirements for certain merit badges such as camping and cooking, but he quickly lost interest after achieving his goal.
“Ben, I noticed that you haven’t signed up for our campout next week,” Scoutmaster Gene Augustine said at the end of a weekly troop meeting. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’re not planning to go. As an Eagle Scout, it would set an excellent example for the other boys. Can I count on you to be there?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Ben said. “We’re swamped getting the farm ready for winter.”
“I understand, but it’s only an overnighter and would be a perfect opportunity for you to teach the younger scouts their essential skills.”
“I’d be glad to do that, but I don’t think any of them would listen to me,” Ben said, wondering why his scoutmaster thought he had the ability to teach other scouts when they viewed him as the prime target for pranks and teasing. When cooking over an open fire, Ben’s mess kit would “accidentally” get tipped over or a handful of dirt would be added to his meal. At night, his tent collapsed when the stakes mysteriously disappeared.
Due to the scoutmaster’s pleading, Ben signed up to go. Joe also agreed to attend even though he worked at a store in Payson on Saturdays and would miss the chance to work a full shift. The loss of wages would impact his goal of saving money to attend Utah State University as soon as he graduated from high school. While packing for the campout, Joe grumbled about it being a waste of time and vowed that it would be his final scouting activity.
Al also complained about the trip because he would have to take care of his sons’ chores, and with snow in the forecast for the weekend, extra work would be necessary to protect the animals. He still gave the boys a ride to the church where the troop gathered for the trip. Joe and Ben jumped out of the truck and grabbed their gear from the back as soon as Al stopped.
“Be quick about it,” Al said. “I don’t have time to waste chatting with Brother Augustine and the other parents. I have the job of three men to do and need to get out of here fast.”