Benny From Sandlot Novels & Stories

Benny frightfully replied to his buddy. "Calm down, Benny. Whatever killed him has long gone by now. Let's search for tracks first and scour the area around the body. We wouldn't want the chief to get angry because of our unprofessionalism, no? Hahaha!" Jack tried to lighten the mood of his bandit companion as he reminded him of their chief's love for irony. Benny was known for being a good hunter but when things go south, he was also first among the crowd to escape. He couldn't blame the man though. At least, that trait had made Benny survive until now. Low level bandits like them had short life expectancy. It was the nature of the job; a lot of them like to joke.

He wanted to know as much as he could about his fairy princess. "You must be stinkingly rich to afford this kinda gorgeous out-look... What do you do for a living?" Benny pressed. Jane remained silent and Benny realized he had taken things too far, "I am sorry for asking too much already... I thought getting to know each other would be cool, you know... By the way, you can call me Benny, I am Benny Bells." "Benny sounds nice... I am Janet Clinton... you can call me Jane," Jane said and their order arrived. They had both ordered a drink.

The last few days, he'd been preoccupied with Wendy, and now the work had piled up. That evening, Benny showed up. He flopped down onto the couch, complaining, "Stanley, I can't believe you've made such a mess of things with the Andrews family all for a girl like Wendy. I swear, I think you're under some kind of spell." Stanley looked up from his paperwork and cast Benny a cold, disinterested glance. Benny immediately shut up. Though he wasn't afraid of anyone, he certainly feared Stanley. Even so, Benny couldn't let it go. He pulled up his game and tagged Wendy, challenging her to a game. After being knocked out by Wendy last time, Benny had upgraded his gear and was eager to get revenge.

We found Benny in his usual spot at the docks, perched on a stack of crates with a cigarette dangling from his lips and a flask in his hand. His wiry frame was silhouetted against the setting sun, his face shadowed beneath his ratty old ball cap. He looked up as we approached and killed our bikes, his eyes narrowing slightly before recognition kicked in. “Talon Nash,” he drawled, “to what does this old man owe the pleasure?” I dismounted my bike and walked over to him, Dex and Norris flanking me like shadows. “Benny,” I said, nodding. “We need to talk.”

“If it isn’t little Roland Graham.” Roland looks up, genuinely surprised. “Benny wasn't sure whether you'd be in.” as delighted as his words sound, there's only a little show of the emotion on his face . But it's more than I've gotten to see regularly I guess “Been years,” Benny continues, grinning. “You disappear and suddenly you’re too important for my food?” Roland chuckles. “I wouldn’t dare. I just got busy.” Benny’s gaze shifts to me, curious but warm. “And who’s this?”

I affirmed. Once he drifted off to sleep in his seat, I stood up and moved toward the rear of the cabin to meet Benny. "Benny!" I crouched beside him, lifting his head slowly like it was going to fall off. His skin was clammy and with my heart racing, I watched as his eyes fluttered open. "What happened?" I muttered. Right now, I could see through him, he wasn't pretending. He grimaced, grabbing my arm so he could prop himself up, "There was a rod back at the tunnel, it caught my side but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to delay the plan..."

Benny is sitting on Roman's left, Andrei is sitting on his right, the twins are giving Coach hell, and Slate is tucked away in a corner with his own laptop. Benny keeps asking me questions about my classes and being his normal sunshiny self while Roman grunts along. He's got everyone else fooled with his tough guy attitude, but I'm learning it's because if he lets too many people in, then he has more people that he'll care about and worry over.

It was a video call from Colton. I smiled and accepted. His face filled the screen, looking softer than usual, but tired. His curls were messy, and he was in a dark hoodie, sitting somewhere quiet. “Hey,” I greeted. “Hey,” he said, voice low and warm. “You home? How was dinner?” Before I could answer, Benny leapt into the shot like a squirrel, pressing his whole face to the screen. “Who’s that?” he asked, nose practically smushed against the camera.

He said, “Is this your daughter, Cynthia Larson, whom Silva tried all means to marry into the Berry family?” Hogan nodded quickly and said to Cynthia, “Cynthia, greet your fifth grandpa quickly.” Cynthia got up, bowed respectfully to Benny, and said, “Fifth Grandpa.” Benny’s eyes flickered and his eyebrows twitched as if he saw something. He looked at Hogan and said, “They say you’re dumb, but I don’t think so.” Hogan broke out in a sweat and said, “Fifth Uncle, you must be kidding.” Hogan knew that Benny had seen through Cynthia’s life.

The crowd made way for Roxanne and the others to reach Benny’s side. “Mommy!” Benny jogged over happily with the microphone in his hand when he saw Roxanne. She bent down while beaming and pulled Benny into her embrace. “You scared me, Benny. Luckily, you’re so smart.” Benny gently patted his mother’s back and said, “I’m sorry, Mommy. But don’t worry about me because I’m very smart. I will not follow the bad guys.” When Benny realized he had gotten lost just now, he had immediately run toward the band, following the music, because he thought he would be safer there. He had planned on borrowing the microphone from the band to find Roxanne.