The Climb,
Luna,
& Other Stories
Creative Writing
Period 1
Spring 2010
Mr. Zervanos
Marina Crouse
The Climb
“Can’t we just take I-95 south to get there?” Paige asked her friend, Lauren, as
they stared at an unfolded map of the east coast. Lauren shrugged and combed her hand
through her hair.
“I dunno, Paige. We could but then again, this is a road trip, so we should just go
with the flow. Take back roads. That sort of thing.”
“True. But, I don’t want to go into this thing blindly. Let’s make up a list of towns
we want to stop in and things we want to see,” Paige suggested as she flipped open a
notebook marked “road trip 2009” to a fresh page. In neat block letters she designated a
space for cities and another one for attractions/activities. It had always been this way.
Paige was neat and organized and Lauren was messy and carefree. That’s why they
worked so well together – they could balance each other out. Their road trip was a perfect
example of this, neatly carefree. That’s the way things would always be, even as they
moved on to separate colleges and different lives. They would still be balancing each
other out in some way or another, because Paige would make sure Lauren was going to
class and doing her homework, and Lauren would most definitely call and check on Paige
and her social life. Lauren always brought out the best of Paige. Together they were like
yin and yang, push and pull, give and take.
“…there’s always going to be another mountain, I’m always gonna wanna make it
move, always gonna be an up hill battle…” Lauren began to belt out as they decided
where they wanted to go. She wanted to stop in Tennessee.
“…sometimes I’m gonna have to lose. Ain’t about how fast I get there…” Paige
sang back to her, in a soft voice.
“…ain’t about what’s waiting on the other side…” Lauren joined Paige and they
crescendoed as they reached the end of the chorus. “…it’s the cliiiiiiiimb.”
They ended the song in a fit of giggles and red in the face.
“Hey, Laur, remember when we came up with the idea to do this?”
“It was your idea, Paige. You had just gotten your permit and your dad was
driving you nuts with all of his fake-brake stomping and shouting of ‘give it gas!’”
Lauren laughed as she recalled Paige retelling her driving experiences each morning in
homeroom.
Paige smiled at the memory of it all, two years ago, when she first decided she
wanted out. Her dad was a hardass and a stickler for rules. Everything she did had to be
perfect or she’d have to start over and try again. Driving was really tough at the
beginning. She hated that her dad would yell the entire time in the car, shouting at her to
use her turn signal, to speed up, to start stopping sooner, to turn right. Just because he
was yelling didn’t make her hear him faster. If he wanted her to turn her signal on forty
feet from the stop sign, she would, all he had to do was tell her calmly. She knew she’d
eventually remember that when approaching a stop sign, she should turn on the signal
forty feet prior to stopping. Yelling just made her more nervous in her dad’s big hulking
mass of metal that he called a pick-up truck. One particular day, it had been raining and it
was the first time she’d ever driven in the rain. It was pouring and her dad was trying to
tell her to turn into an empty parking lot to wait it out, but as the rain thundered against
the windows and her wipers flew back and forth, her heart rattled and pounded in its
cage; she was freaked out and her dad’s stern voice was just nudging her closer to the
edge. She hit the gas and turned the steering wheel and almost hit another car as she
entered the exit of the parking lot. She parked, if you could call it that, roughly between
two lines far away from any other car, and rested her forehead on the steering wheel,
between her two hands.
Her dad yelled some more about how she should be more careful and pay better
attention, while she just listened. The next day, she announced to Lauren that she never
wanted to drive with her father again, and as soon as she could, she’d get her license. To
celebrate, they would go on a road trip and drive however they wanted, wherever they
wanted, whenever they wanted.
***
Days later, Lauren was sprawled across Paige’s bed reading a magazine while
waiting for her toenail polish to dry. Paige was browsing her closet and pulling shirts off
of hangers and throwing them onto the pile of clothes that accumulated next to Lauren’s
legs.
“Laur, are you all packed?”
“Uh, not quite.”
“So, you haven’t started yet.”
“Bingo!” Lauren exclaimed loudly has she brought her toes closer to examine the
polish.
“Lauren, you’re so predictable!” Paige huffed and bent to pull her suitcase out
from under her bed. Lauren smiled sheepishly and went back to her magazine. Paige
watched her flip through a few perfume ads and stop to smell one. She threw a balled-up
sock at Lauren and ducked behind her suitcase. Once Lauren retaliated, a full-on clothing
battle ensued and ended with half of Paige’s clothes lying on top of her fallen over
suitcase and the other half strewn about the room.
“Okay. I’ll help you clean up and pack, and then you come back to my house and
help me. Then we can cross packing off of your big to-do list.”
Hours later, after the two girls had finally finished packing up Paige’s stuff, they
drove to Lauren’s house and began packing. Paige started to organize Lauren’s clothes
into piles: clean, dirty, take, don’t take, cute, and don’t ever wear again. Lauren
rummaged around her room for a big duffle bag and then searched for her memory card
to go with her digital camera.
Paige shuffled papers around on Lauren’s desk trying to organize it or at least
make it seem less cluttered. She threw a few empty envelopes with their tops torn off into
the trash and lined up a pile of post-it-notes all in a row so that they’d be easy to read.
She came across Lauren’s calendar and stuck it onto the bulletin board with a pushpin.
On the calendar were Xs counting down to a circled day. The circled day, however, was
not the day they were leaving for their trip. In fact, the trip wasn’t even marked on the
calendar. The day encircled with bright red sharpie was July 10th. Two days after the day
they were supposedly leaving. On July 10th, however, Lauren was apparently starting a
new job at Fisher & Fisher Publishing.
“Lauren, what is this? Who are Fisher and Fisher?” Paige pointed to the circle on
the calendar.
“Uh, Paige, let’s go eat some ice cream! Packing makes me tired and my mom
just bought some Rocky Road!”
“Seriously, Laur. What is this? Why isn’t our trip marked down? Why didn’t you
tell me you were getting a job? Did that not work out or something? Did they not hire
you? What’s going on?”
“Paige,” Lauren sighed as she sat down. She paused for a moment, as if to gather
her thoughts. “ Mr. Fisher did hire me. I am starting a new job. I – I haven’t started
packing for our trip because…because I’m not going.” She picked at her comforter. “I
didn’t know how to tell you this because I know you’ve been planning this—”
“I’ve been planning this? No, Lauren, we’ve been planning this. Or did you forget
the last three weeks we’ve spent looking at maps and making lists.” Paige paced across
the floor and turned towards her friend. “ I thought you wanted to go on this trip. Why
did you lie to me this entire time?”
Lauren stood and threw her hands up. “I did want to go on this trip! I just can’t
go, okay? I’m not allowed. I have to start my job!”
“Then you shouldn’t have started to plan this trip with me! I can’t believe you!
This is so typical, you flaking out on me at the last second and only doing what you want.
You’re so irresponsible.”
“Irresponsible?” Lauren was seething. “Irresponsible? I’m not being irresponsible.
Not everyone has the luxury to gallivant across the country freeloading off of her parents
all summer!”
“ I’m not freeloading off of my parents! Once we convinced our parents to let us
go on this trip, I convinced mine to give me money for it as a graduation gift! It’s not my
fault you didn’t do the same thing!”
“This isn’t about money. This is about how you’re still leaning on your parents.
You’re the irresponsible one!”
“Shut up! I’m not irresponsible! If I were irresponsible, then I wouldn’t have
gotten straight A’s or a 4.0!”
“Yeah. Because following Daddy’s rules on being perfect is really responsible.”
“God, Lauren. Why are you being such a bitch? You know how I feel about my
dad and his ridiculous standards!”
“At least your dad has standards! At least he hasn’t given up on you and his
dreams for you!”
“What? Laur, what are you talking about?” Paige’s rigid posture softened slightly
as her friend choked on the last of her words.
“I have to pay for college. That’s why I got this job. I guess when I didn’t win any
scholarships or whatever my dad finally realized I’m not a super genius and I’m not
going to be a doctor or something unrealistically clichéd like that. He told me that he
wasn’t going to ‘pay my way through parties and beer’ so I’d better get a job if I want to
go to school. He doesn’t believe that I’ll work hard. He doesn’t believe in me.” Lauren’s
shoulders slumped as she said this, as though she gave up on herself as well.
Paige regarded her friend for a moment. It was unusual to see Lauren so selfconscious and insecure. Usually she was brighter than sunshine, confident and not shy
about anything. “Lauren,” Paige said softly, “it’s okay. We can work this out. We’ll show
him! I know how hard you can work and I have faith in you. Show him our plans for the
trip! He’ll have to be impressed with you after that. We’ve worked so hard to map out
routes and budget our money and find safe places to stay. And after we get back and you
start your job, he’ll –”
“Paige, stop!” Lauren interrupted loudly. “I can’t go on this trip. This job is more
important. I have too much at stake. I’m sorry.”
“But, Lauren, your dad will see how hard you’ve worked. He’ll let you go!”
“Paige, this is about me proving to him – and myself – that I can do this. I have to
earn his trust back and some silly little plans aren’t going to do that. I appreciate what
you’re saying but this isn’t something you can help me with.”
“I can help you. Just let me try! Just tell me what to do! We can still fix this and
make everything work!” Paige pleaded desperately with Lauren, her eyes frantically
searching for something to prove her point.
“No, Paige. You can’t fix everything. You can’t control how everything goes! I
have to do this by myself. It’s important to me, now more than ever, to stand on my own
two feet. We’re both going to college next fall in separate cities in different states. It’s
time for us to grow up a little bit. We can’t always rely on each other to solve our
problems.”
The two girls grew silent. Somberly, Lauren wiped her face and tied her hair back
into a ponytail. She stood up and looked around the room.
“I start my job tomorrow.”
Paige nodded quickly and stood up. She grabbed her purse and slung it on her
shoulder.
“I should be going then. You need to get a good night’s sleep,” she said quietly
and slipped out the door without saying anything else. Lauren stood and watched Paige
close the door, and a minute later she watched her exit the front path and get into her car.
The tires squelched against the newly wet road, and Lauren realized it had been raining.
***
Paige used her legs to rock gently back-and-forth on her ancient porch swing. The
crickets were out and she listened to their melodic chirping as she sipped on sweet tea. It
was just after dusk and a slight breeze waved through her hair and chilled her skin. Two
weeks had gone by and Paige and Lauren had barely talked. It’s not that they were mad at
each other; when they spoke they were civil but quiet. The spark in their conversation had
died and there was no laughter, no amusing words or quips. The aftermath had left only
distance. Each girl was hurt by what happened; Paige was hurt because for once in their
history of friendship, Lauren hadn’t told her something really important –her first big job.
For once in their friendship, Paige couldn’t fix it. It hurt her to hear those words, ‘You
can’t fix everything. You can’t control how everything goes!’ She hadn’t realized that she
turned out just like her father. An eager Mr. Fix-it who tried to control the world. She
didn’t want to be like her father, constantly yelling, pushing, disagreeing. All of that
confrontation and conflict made her sick to her stomach and she didn’t want to be
nauseous for the rest of her life. ‘I have to do this by myself.’ Paige didn’t want to be by
herself. She and Lauren had been inseparable since the sixth grade, when they stood up to
Tori Spencer, the meanest girl in their homeroom. They’d done everything together
because that’s how they worked best. They were strong as a team.
The dusk filtered into dark, the sky filled up with stars. The chains that held up
the porch-swing creaked as she pushed back. Her glass was empty now, just left with
half-melted ice cubes and bits of tea leaves.
‘It’s time for us to grow up a little bit. We can’t always rely on each other to solve
our problems.’ Lauren was right. Next year Paige couldn’t count on having Lauren there
when she was upset. Sure, she could call her, if Lauren weren’t busy, she’d pick up the
phone, and Paige could cry and tell her what was wrong, and Lauren would listen, but
things wouldn’t be the same. There would be less giggling and random phone calls and
fewer late-night sleepovers where they would stay up, painting their toes while sharing
their secrets, hopes and silly dreams.
It wasn’t that their friendship was over - it was just changing. Each girl had to
face new fears and new demons and be able to handle it without the other. They could
make new friends, and share their new friends and new stories. They’d work it out. But
first, they had to stand alone.
Paige put her foot down to stop swinging and picked up her glass. She opened the
screen door and walked into the kitchen. After putting her glass in the dishwasher, she
made her way upstairs. She was going to look at her map again – but this time, she wasn’t
going to have Lauren to help her read it or suggest places to stop. Paige was going to
circle her house and her college town and leave the rest unmarked so she could discover
the best path, on her own.
Ashleigh Donovan
Short Story
Tina’s Life
The rain was the only thing hiding her from the car. It had been slowly drizzling
all day but the moment her mom escorted her into the alleyway behind Mr. Pizza’s Pizza
Palace it started to pour. Tina Goosen could just barely see the black sedan idling ahead
and she knew what was expected of her when she got into that car. The young girl of only
fourteen glanced up at her mother with what she wasn’t sure was tears or rain in her eyes
and saw only a cold expression. She felt like a little kid again and she couldn’t help but
want her mommy to just throw her arms around her and say, “I’m sorry, baby girl. How
about we just go home and I’ll fix you some ice cream,” but Tina knew that this was
impossible. There was no home anymore because they had recently been evicted.
Luna Goosen used to be the type of woman that could make you smile the
moment she entered the room. Luna was Tina’s sunshine and Tina was Luna’s little
angel. At one point the two of them had one of the best mother daughter relationships
despite the roughness of their life. Luna met Tina’s father in a local McDonalds, and for
Luna it was love at first sight. It only took them a month to leave town, without so much
as a goodbye to their families, and upon arrival in Las Vegas they eloped. It took only a
few weeks for Luna to realize that her beloved Arthur was a devout gambler and they
were almost drowning in debt. Luna spent the next three years moving from trailer park
to trailer park until she discovered she would soon be a mother. By the time Tina was two
Luna and Arthur both had steady jobs and they were living in an okay neighborhood right
outside of Reno. Tina was eight when Arthur started abusing her. Over the years Arthur
developed a love for alcohol, crystal meth, and his daughter’s flesh, and Luna felt herself
slipping farther and farther away from her beloved husband. Tina was eleven when Luna
first discovered what was happening, and for the love of her husband, she turned her back
and slipped into a severe depression.
Tina watched her mother the best she could through the curtain of rain as Luna
walked up to the car. She saw the window slowly lower and heard the muffled sound of
“how much?” Tina realized this would be the perfect moment to run, but she couldn’t
find the strength. Tina was aware that her mommy needed her to do this, and she would
do anything for her mommy. Luna walked over to Tina with a perverted smile on her face
and gave her shoulder a squeeze as if everything that was happening was normal and fine.
As Luna guided Tina into the front seat of the car she lowered her lips to her daughter’s
ear and whispered, “Make me proud, baby girl.”
Tina sat as still in the front seat as possible and did her best to hide her chattering
teeth and her slow nervous breathing. She promised her mom she would be brave, but in
all honesty, she was terrified. Her mom told her that if she could do it with her dad, then
she could do it with anybody, but Tina knew that wasn’t true at all. She knew her daddy
loved her and this man was just some stranger she had never met before. She took a
chance and looked over at the man while he drove to find a spot to do this forbidden act
and her breath caught in her throat. This man did not look gentle at all. He looked old
and haggard. A cigarette hung from the man’s mouth and his face was rough looking and
stuck in a scowl. Tina couldn’t stop staring at the man and did not even notice when the
car finally stopped behind the local supermarket between two big tractor-trailers. “How
old are you?” the man said in a rough scratchy voice.
“I’m twenty-four.” That was the age her mom told her to say.
“You certainly don’t look twenty-four; you don’t look a day over sixteen.
Honestly, though, miss, I don’t care how old you are, but you better make this worth my
while.” In one motion the man unbuckled his seatbelt and undid his zipper. Before Tina
could even say a word to protect herself, the man cupped his hand on the back of her
head and started to bring Tina’s head down towards her future.
After what seemed like an eternity of random hard slaps all over her petite body
and a very painful cramp in her face, the man finished, and with a rejuvenated grunt he
grabbed Tina’s hair and threw her off of him. The man didn’t say one word to her the
entire ride back to the alley, and when they arrived, all he did was lean over to open the
passenger door, then shove Tina out of the car. The stunned girl sat in the puddle she fell
in with rain cascading around her and tears swelling in her eyes. She just kept replaying
in her mind all that just took place. The man threw a twenty-dollar bill onto her, and
before slamming the door and speeding away, he said with a sneer, “Don’t spend it all in
one place.” Once she was sure the man’s car was gone and not coming back, she crawled
to find shelter. Tina huddled in a doorway half in the rain and half out of it. She pulled
her legs up to her chest and sobbed harder than she ever had in her life. It wasn’t the first
time she was forced into doing that foul act, but there was a very distinct difference: her
daddy loved her.
****************
It was like being electrocuted. One minute Tina was dead asleep and the next, like
a bolt of electricity, she came to life in a mixture of body spasms and a scream. She
screamed for what seemed like an eternity; she screamed until her throat ached, her jaw
ached, and her whole body ached. Finally, she couldn’t scream anymore and she
collapsed back down onto the beat up couch with her whole body shaking. Tina looked
around at all the bodies lying around her. How did she not wake them up? Soon, she was
overwhelmed with panic, what if she was lying in a room with dead people. What if she
too was dead, but then how was she moving and breathing? She walked over to the
person closest to her left and bent down closer to her; it was a girl, probably around her
age, seventeen and she was breathing; she was asleep. Tina sat down on the floor; she
now knew she was in Dante’s apartment, but how long had she been here? She sat on the
mildewed floor for what felt like hours just trying to remember what happened but the
only thing she could remember was Dante’s gentle hand inserting the needle into her arm
and a kiss on her cheek as she was lifted higher and higher away.
She was fifteen when she first met Dante. Tina had slowly been working the
streets for three months and could barely make enough money to afford one cracker; she
was becoming desperate. She had not seen her mom since the night this all began and she
had not had a decent meal for even longer than that; all her mom cooked in the end was
dry cereal, raisin bran. It seemed like she would do anything for at least one bowl of that
flavorless cereal, it would sure beat the second-hand food she had been getting out of the
dumpster and she would also do anything to just see her mother again one last time. She
could forgive her for doing this if she just could see her. Lost in thought, Tina wandered
around the dark streets and was almost oblivious to the man in a dark coat hurrying in her
direction until she slammed into him at full force. Tina was getting ready to start yelling
at this stranger for not watching where he was going, until she saw his face in the
streetlights; he was gorgeous. The man standing in front of her had the total package; he
was tall, young, built, and breathtakingly handsome. He had a dimple in his chin and his
right cheek, his eyes were a sparkly blue, and even in the dark she could tell this: she was
in love.
A few weeks after she met Dante, she had started to stay with him in his little beat
up apartment in one of the worst parts of town, which didn’t matter to Tina, for with
Dante she always felt safe. Dante was one of the leading drug dealers in the city, dealing
crack cocaine, meth, heroin, and a variety of prescription pills. He slowly rose to the top
at the age of nineteen and he was no one to mess with. It was there in his little blue tiled
kitchen that Tina sat in the middle of the floor and snorted her first line of coke. The
sensation she received on her first line is why she became instantly addicted. All of
Tina’s problems melted away faster than a moving train, and all her bad thoughts were
replaced with no thoughts as she let herself escape into the feeling of Dante’s lips on her
neck.
She was in that same kitchen now, only it was no longer blue; the tiles were so
dirty from lack of care that they were a greenish brown color, and there was such a thick
layer of dust that you could not enter the room without choking. Her headache was at full
force now but she was trying her best to ignore it and focus on what happened. Tina still
could not remember how long she was passed out for, and she needed to know where
Dante was because she knew he would be furious. She kept silently looking around, but
she didn’t want to move, she was frozen in fear and she wasn’t sure why. Tina just knew
that something was wrong in the room around her, she just couldn’t figure out what. She
started to stare at a vomit stain near the pale blue dirt-smeared refrigerator when she
heard a creak from the floor boards behind her, and instantly a sense of panic arose
within her. As she started to turn and face the mysterious guest, an icy hand wrapped
around the back of her neck and her face impacted with the counter top. The last thing
she saw before her vision went fuzzy was the sadistic smile of Dante.
**************
When Tina awoke in the wooden rocking chair, it was different than when she
woke up earlier that day because now she was completely aware of what was going on.
Her head was pounding more than ever, and she was sure her nose was broken and her
jaw shattered, but everything was surprisingly clear for her. Suddenly, Tina could
remember everything from her past; the first time her father put his hands in her panties,
her mother’s frequent looks of disgust and hatred towards her innocent daughter, every
line snorted, every hit taken from the pipe, every needle inserted into her veins, and every
strange man inside her. She hated herself and she hated everyone in her life. She was
going to change it no matter what it took. She would get away from all this and never
look back, and she would start right now. The moment she stood up to prepare for her
journey, a strong fist slammed into her right cheek and she was thrown backwards,
flipping over the chair and landing with her arm twisted behind her back.
Dante stood above her shaking body, continually kicking her and yelling, “Get up,
bitch. Get the fuck up before I make you get up.” With all the strength Tina could muster,
she got to her feet, only to be thrown back onto the rocking chair and slapped across the
face. “Where’s my money, hoe?! Do you realize what your drug binge cost me exactly,
you bitch? You have been messed up out of your mind for six days and passed out on the
couch for four of them. Now, explain to me, you dirty smut, how am I going to get the
money you owe me?” Dante continued to deliver painful blows to her chest and face as
he screamed in her ear. “You won’t screw with me again you little bitch. I’m going to
teach you.”
Tina kept her eyes glued to the 9mm pistol Dante was removing from the waist of
his jeans and watched as he lifted it towards her face. Tina never could have imagined
what would happen to her on this night because of the complete and utter horror of the
events. In one moment she went from staring down the barrel of the silver and gold
finished gun to feeling the cold surface being drug from her cheek to her chest and
showing no sign of stopping. Dante brought the gun down to Tina’s knees and slowly
started forcing the gun up her skirt. Tina could feel the smooth surface of the gun on her
thighs, and all she could do was clamp her eyes shut and pray. Soon, without hesitation,
the weapon was inside her, ripping the flesh as it traveled in and out. Without opening her
eyes, Tina felt around her for anything to help her get free from what was happening to
her and felt the pointy end leading up to a syringe. With all the power she had left inside
her, she wrapped her fingers around the body of the needle and thrust the point into the
front of Dante’s neck and let the heroin seep out into his Adams-apple. Tina opened her
eyes just in time to watch the look of sick pleasure drain from his face and panic rise on
it. Dante let out a yelp and jerked back with gun still in hand. Dante tried desperately to
grab the needle out of his throat, but it was deeply penetrated and the pain was too much
for him. As Dante collapsed backwards he let his finger squeeze the trigger of his gun.
One single bullet pierced Tina’s left side and a scream escaped her lips. She began
slipping in and out of conciseness and knew she had to get out of this room and as far
away as possible. She knew that if she stayed she would be dead; even if Dante didn’t
survive, she would still be marked for death and someone somewhere would kill her to
avenge him. With her legs wobbling and the blood oozing down from her stomach and
between her legs, she walked to the door. Taking a last glance at the man she looked to
for the past two years and now on the ground gasping for air and tripping from the heroin,
she walked out the door and into what she thought would be a start of a new life.
She had never felt so low. Tina had been through so much over the last seven
hours that all she felt like doing was lying down on a bench and never waking up. She
simply just could not understand how such a miserable life could possibly get worse, but
it did, and how exactly could she keep living like this? Tina always knew that she had no
choice, she was thrown into this life but she has done it for so long she couldn’t imagine
doing anything else. She continued to walk down Valley Road, and she couldn’t even
imagine how horrible she looked to a normal person but what kind of decent human
being would be out at this hour? As she walked past the local dry cleaners she caught a
glimpse of herself in the window. She looked absolutely haggard; although the bleeding
had managed to stop between her legs, the pink skirt her mother had bought her all those
years ago was now so shredded and stained that it was a miracle it was even covering her.
Her favorite black tank top had the whole bottom ripped off and was tied around her to
help with the bleeding in her side, and she was missing one gold high heel. She took
awhile and just stared at her outfit when the sharp pain sounded in her eye again. She was
afraid to look at her face; she felt the swelling, she could tell there were bruises, and she
knew she did not want to see it. Tina used to be beautiful. She was daddy’s little princess.
What would daddy think of her now?
She walked for what seemed like days only the sky never changed colors and the
cold never ceased. She passed her old corner where she would pick up the men and the
motel she would bring them to. She passed Dante’s alleyway where she would buy her
drugs and bring them back for her and Dante to use. For Tina all these memories felt
normal, like childhood hopes and dreams, and she knew that the memories would be
disgusting to others. She couldn’t help but laugh when she thought about her childhood
because all that happened to her back then was fun compared to what Dante had done to
her; at least daddy was gentle. She needed to find somewhere to go, somewhere to hide
until the heat died down, and then who knows, maybe she could turn her life around. She
took a break from walking to think, but she could not think of any place to go. All her
friends were prostitutes and they all wanted to hurt her. She had no family and no money
left. She tried to think about the last place she felt safe.
Tina turned right on East Ashvan Road and began looking for the bright windows
of the St. Paul’s Church. She roamed that road for an hour trying to find it, but with one
eye have swollen shut and all the lights on the entire street turned off, it was very hard to
tell what was what. Suddenly a feeling crept up on Tina; she had to pee and there was no
holding it. She wobbled over to the closest bush she could find and started to pull down
what was left of her underwear. For Tina, peeing in a bush was as low as she could go.
She had vowed when she was younger that she would never pee outside, and no matter
how bad things got in the past, she never had. Tina felt more violated than she ever had
squatting in that bush, exposed, but she couldn’t deny that despite the burning and the
pain, the relief her bladder got from peeing helped ease her. Once she stood up and pulled
up her torn panties, she started again on her walking journey to the church.
She started to walk up the church steps but had to stop half way when the pain
kept her from moving any farther. Although she fought as hard as she could, she felt
herself collapse on the church steps. Tina’s breathing became so heavy it was hard to
catch her breath; she reached a hand down to the bullet wound in her side. She still could
not believe she made it as far as she did, and she knew that all she needed for her
salvation was to call for help. Tina opened her mouth and was about to yell when a
thought stopped her; maybe things would be a lot easier if she just gave up and died. She
knew that if she survived Dante would never stop looking for her, and where could she
even go to try and get away from him? She also knew that there was no chance to turn
her life around. She never made it through high school, and the only thing she was good
at was pleasuring strangers. Tina shifted her attention to the sky where the sun had just
begun to rise. She searched around in her purple bra for her very last Newport Menthol
and her blue crack lighter. Tina lit the last cigarette she would ever smoke and inhaled.
She was ready for the next step in her life, the last step. Her mother used to tell her that
dawn, when the sun rose, was the only time you could glimpse into heaven and see the
beauty that awaited you. Tina sat on the church steps watching for the sunrise trying to
find her heaven hidden in the clouds. For the first time in years, Tina smiled. She was
alone on those steps waiting for her fast approaching death and she had never felt so
happy and safe. For the first time in Tina’s life, everything was okay.
Melissa Butkus
Short Story
Friendly Fire
I woke up to a bright room with a splitting headache. It was quiet, aside from the
beeping of a monitor next to me. I looked around and then I realized where I was.
I was in a hospital.
But how did I get here? I couldn’t remember anything. I tried to sit up in the bed,
but it just hurt too much, so I gave up. Why was I in so much pain? I looked down at my
hands. They were covered in scrapes. Did I fall down the stairs again? I tried to lift my
arms to get a closer look but excruciating pain shot through my left arm when I tried.
What happened to me?
“Gunshot wound,” a voice said.
I sat there in silence. Questions started running through my head at a mile per
minute. I was shot? When? I don’t remember it. Why was I alone? Where were my
parents? Where was Jake? I wouldn’t think he would be here; he is always there when
something goes wrong like this. I looked at the man, the only other person in the room,
standing in front of me with a puzzled face.
“A woman found you on the ground on 5th street Saturday night. She saw you
lying there and you were bleeding pretty badly. She called 911,” the man told me.
“Who are you?” I asked, barely able to get the words out.
“I am Detective John. I am trying to find out what exactly happened to you. Do
you remember anything that happened to you that night?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Do you remember how you ended up on 5th street?” he asked me.
I shook my head no.
“What were you doing earlier that night?”
“I don’t really remember,” I answered.
“Okay, well, I can see this is going to take a while. I am going to get some coffee.
I will be back,” he told me.
I just nodded my head and tried to comprehend what I was just told. I couldn’t
remember anything that had happened on Saturday night. I tried again to get a good look
at my hands, this time lifting my right arm. It hurt, but not as much as the left. Before I
got a look at my hands, I saw the bruises in the shape of a hand on my arm.
Everything became clear in my mind.
*****
It was about 8 o’clock on Saturday night when I got to Jake’s house. I was home
for the weekend from college and I hadn’t seen my boyfriend in over a month. I was so
excited to finally see him. As I turned to corner onto Peach Street, my happy mood
suddenly changed into a disappointed one. Parked outside were a bunch of cars. I should
have turned around right then, but I went inside anyway.
“Well, there goes our romantic night together!” I told myself.
I continued up the path to his front door, the music getting louder with each step. I
opened the door to see Jake and all his friends sitting on the couch, each of them with a
drink in his hand. I went and sat next to Jake, he wrapped his arm around me. For the
moment I was perfectly content sitting there next to him.
Around midnight, however, things started to change.
One of his friends pulled out some weed.
“Get out of here!” the voice in my head was telling me. I ignored it at first, but
then the mood in the room started to change. Things started to get a little bit hostile. They
started pushing each other and it was getting really rough.
“All right, that’s enough. I’m out of here,” I said as I stood up and started walking
toward the door. As I was reaching for the doorknob, I felt something grab my arm very
tightly.
“Aw, come on, Norah. Don’t leave! The fun is just getting started,” Jake slurred.
“And I never get to see you anymore. Don’t you want to spend time with me?”
“Not if you are going to act like that,” I told him.
“What are you talking about?”
“This isn’t you Jake, What the hell are you doing to yourself?” I asked him.
“This is me, Norah. And don’t talk to me that way,” he yelled back at me as his
pushed me hard into the door.
I just stared at him. For a moment I didn’t know what to say. This was not my
Jake. I didn’t even know who this person was.
“I am out of here,” I said as I turned back toward the door.
“This isn’t over and you are not leaving!” he yelled as he grabbed my arm again
and pulled me closer to him.
“Get the hell off me!” I yelled as I pulled my arm from his tight grasp. I turned
again and ran out the door toward 6th street.
*****
I was still looking at the bruises on my arm when Detective John walked in. He
had a cup of coffee in one hand and a notepad in the other. He pulled up a chair and sat
down next to my bed.
“Where did those bruises come from?” he asked me.
“They are from before I got shot,” I told him.
“Do you remember what happened?”
“Yes.”
There was silence between the two of us.
“Well… what were you doing?”
“I was at my boyfriend’s house,” I told him.
“What’s his name?” Detective John asked.
“Jake…,” I said hesitantly.
“And did Jake give you those bruises?”
“Yes. But I don’t think he meant it,” I told him.
“Why did he do that to you?”
“I didn’t like what was going on at his house, so I was leaving. He didn’t want me
to leave.”
“What was going on at the house?” he asked me as if he already knew the answer.
“They were drinking and getting high,” I told him as if there was nothing wrong
with that. Obviously, it meant something to him because he was scribbling notes
furiously on his notepad.
“So what happened when you left the house?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Try. Do you remember where you were walking? You were found on 5th Street.
Why were you there? How did you get there?”
Everything clicked again. I was once again watching a replay of that night as if it
were a movie in a theater.
*****
It was dark and cold outside. I slowed to a walk as I turned the corner onto 6th
street. Tall buildings lined each side of the street, unlit windows decorating the walls.
There was no light except for the flickering streetlight at the end of the street.
As I walked, I thought about what had just happened. This wasn’t the first time
that Jake had snapped. He’d gotten physical with me on other occasions as well. He got
pissed at me one time and broke my arm. It didn’t matter though. I knew that Jake and I
belonged together and nothing was going to change that.
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Let him cool down a bit. It will be like nothing even
happened,” I told myself. Just like every other time Jake became a jerk, I would forgive
him.
I wasn’t too thrilled about walking down this street alone in the dark. All was
quiet except for the sound of footsteps. More than one set of footsteps. I turned around,
but nothing was there. I started walking faster.
Suddenly the crack of a gunshot broke through the silence. I turned around again,
but still nobody was there. I began running. Another crack slashed through the silence.
“Where are you going, Norah?” a voice said through the darkness. It was a
familiar voice. I had heard it before. Several voices started laughing. He wasn’t alone.
Another gunshot. This time I fell to the ground. I was hit. I wanted to scream out
in pain, but I didn’t. I lay on the ground silent. I opened my eyes to see Jake and his
friends walking toward me. A gun was in Jake’s right hand.
“Now she can’t run away from you,” one of his friends laughed.
They all started laughing.
“That’s true,” Jake said. “Let’s get out of here.” He said, and they turned and
walked away.
As they walked away I touched my arm. It was bleeding really badly.
“I have to get home,” I told myself as I tried to get to my feet. I was only about a
block away from home and I thought I could make it. I stumbled down the street. I was
really dizzy, probably due to the loss of blood.
As I turned the corner onto 5th Street everything started spinning. I fell to the
ground.
*****
“Do you remember what happened to you after you left your boyfriend’s house?”
Detective John asked me, pulling me from my trance like state.
“Sorry, what?” I asked.
“Do you remember what happened after you left your boyfriend’s house that
night?” he asked me again.
“No,” I stated as if it were true.
“You don’t remember anything?” he asked again as if he knew I was lying.
I had to keep up the pretense, “Nothing,” I said without looking at him. “All I
remember is leaving his house and then I woke up here.”
“Okay. I will come back tomorrow and see if you remember anything else,” he
told me. He put a card on the table in front of me. “I will leave you my number. Call me
if you need anything or remember anything else.”
“I will,” I told him as he turned and walked out the door.
I put my head back on my pillow and stared up at the ceiling. I tried to think of
something else besides the current situation. I didn’t want to think about it anymore.
“Norah?” a voice said from near the doorway. I knew this voice. I’d heard it
almost every day for the last two years. It was Jake.
“What?” I asked. I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.
“How are you feeling?” he asked me. His voice was a whisper.
“How do you think I feel, Jake?” I said, finally looking at him. “You shot me!”
“I’m so sorry, Norah.” Jake said as he started to walk across the room. “I can’t
believe I did this to you. I hate myself for doing it. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have invited
all those people over Saturday night, and I shouldn’t have listened to them when they told
me you should pay for talking to me the way you did. Can you ever forgive me?” he
asked me. I could hear the pain in his voice.
“Seriously, Jake?” I yelled back at him. “You are asking me to forgive you?” I
asked him.
He just stared at me and I stared back at him.
“Are you going to tell them that it was me?” he asked me.
I paused. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I loved him enough not to want to
ruin the rest of his life. Seeing Jake rot away in a jail cell would kill me. I couldn’t do that
to him. But at the same time I knew that he had gone too far this time.
“No,” I stated.
“Why not?” he asked me, confusion marking his face.
“Because I don’t want to watch you rot away in jail,” I told him.
“Oh… Thanks.” Jake said without looking at me. The relief I was expecting to see
didn’t come across his face.
It was quiet for a few moments, both of us thinking about what we should do next.
I knew what I had to do. I also knew that it might kill me doing it.
“I don’t want to see you anymore, Jake,” I told him, looking him in the eyes.
“What do you mean?” he asked me, trying to sound confused, but he knew
exactly I meant.
“I mean, I want you to stay away from me, Jake. I don’t want to see or hear from
you ever again,” I told him without looking at him. I didn’t need to look at his face to
guess his reaction. “If you don’t stay away from me, I will tell them that it was you.”
“If that’s what you really want,” Jake said, reaching for my hand. I pulled it away.
“It is what I want,” I told him with tear filled eyes.
“Ok. Then I will leave,” He said. I could hear the pain in his voice as he said it.
“Just know that I am really sorry about everything and I love you,” He told me in a
whisper. I leaned my head back against the pillows and closed my eyes. Tears started
running down my face.
“Don’t say that,” I whispered.
When I finally opened my eyes, he was gone.
Anna Lee Donahue
Mr. Zervanos
Pd. 7
4/24/09
Saying Goodbye
You sit on the hardwood floor of your bedroom, holding your favorite black
lighter and a pack of Marlboro menthols. Gently, you take out a cigarette and pop it into
your mouth, inhaling as you touch the small flame of the lighter to the tip of your cancer
stick. You blow out a white puff of smoke, feeling a wave of relief as the nicotine
stimulates your brain. Casually, you glance down at your arms, which are covered with
cuts and bruises. You’ve grown accustomed to Marcus’ drunken beatings. Initially, you
wanted to call the cops and have him incarcerated for domestic abuse, but without
Marcus where would you go? Besides, you’ve found ways to release the pain and
depression of your new life.
It seems like you’ve lived here for years, but you know it’s only been a few
months. You remember the night Marcus found you well.
*****
You stumbled across the trolley tracks pushing your hands deeper into your
jacket pockets in a useless attempt to stay somewhat sheltered from the pouring rain.
Lightning illuminated the dark night sky allowing you to read the rusted station sign.
“Morton.” You’ve made it to Chester; the only question is “where to now?” Your mom is
still at home in Barbados, your aunt and uncle kicked you out months ago, and you’ve
been asked to leave all of the houses that you’ve crashed at. You don’t have any money,
and you’re exhausted from walking all day without any food. Just as you’re about to plop
down on a bus bench and embrace death, you see a man with an umbrella approaching
you.
“Are you all right, miss?”
“I’m f-f-fine,” you stutter, teeth chattering.
“No, you’re not. You’re soaking wet and you’re so cold you’re shaking. Do you
live near here? Or do you at least have a place to stay?”
“I’m fine. I’m just gonna lay down for a little while.”
“Come on, you can stay with me for as long as you need to. I just have one
stipulation. I’ll give you food, clothes, a bed, anything you need; all you have to do is
work for me. Is that okay?” the man says, giving you a warm smile.
All you manage to say is a soft “mmhm.” You know this seems crazy, but he
seems nice enough. Besides, your only options are to trust the kind, seemingly caring,
stranger or die out here on the streets, and you can’t die yet.
“By the way, my name is Marcus,” the man says softly, as if he’s telling you
some dire secret that he doesn’t want anyone else to hear. You don’t say anything as the
man wraps his arm around you, sheltering you with his big, black umbrella, and walks
you down the street.
*****
“Genna…Genna!” The sound of Jasmin’s voice whips you back to the present.
“Huh? Oh, hey, Jasmin, I was just…uh…”
“Daydreaming?” Jasmin suggests. You don’t respond; you just smile at her
sweetly. “Come on. We have to get ready. It’s almost eleven.”
“All right, all right. So, what do we have in the way of drugs for this evening?”
you ask inquisitively.
“Coke or smack. Take your pick.”
“Hmmm…,” you mutter, tapping your index finger gently against your lips. “I’m
gonna have to go with coke...we did smack last night.”
“Works for me,” Jasmin replies cheerfully. Carefully you pour out a small pile of
coke from the miniature bag, while Jasmin grabs a razor and two pieces of straw. Slowly,
you cut the pile in two and form two thin lines, each about two inches long, in the center
of the night table. You lower your head, placing one end of the straw up into your right
nostril and the other directly above the white line of coke. You press your finger against
your left nostril, holding it closed as you snort. Then, you slowly sit back, as the drugs
begin to take effect, and wait for Jasmin.
“Ready?” you ask her after a few minutes of silence.
“Let’s go,” she nods in response. Jasmin jumps up and grabs your hand, pulling
you to your feet. You grab your fake Coach purse and stumble down the stairs and out the
door.
It’s a warm, clear night, perfect weather for prostitution. You make more money
when the sky is clear and you can see the stars. You stop under a street lamp and decide
to make it your post for the evening. Jasmin is down the block on the other side of the
street. She’s been doing this for the last year, so she has a set of regulars. Somehow they
all seem to know where to find her, even though she covers a one-mile radius. You’ve
only been doing this a few months; you have a few regulars but not many, so you don’t
make as much money as Jasmin, but you make out well on nice nights like tonight.
You’ll never forget the first time you went out with Jasmin. You were terrified;
all you could think about was the fact that you were getting paid screw strangers. At first
you felt dirty and worthless, but gradually you’ve grown accustomed to the idea of
trading sex for money. Most people would rather die, and it is an all time low for you, but
on the bright side, you do get paid quite a bit. Besides, most of the guys aren’t that bad
looking; they’re just lonely. In some ways they’re a lot like you, lonely drug addicts who
are full of pain; they just want to be accepted and loved for who they are.
A car coming down the street slows as it approaches you. The window rolls down
and a familiar voice greets you.
“Hey, Genna. How’s it going?”
“Hi, John. I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m peachy,” John replies as he leans over and pushes the passenger door open.
You just smile at him as you climb into the car and he hits the gas.
You arrive home around four, tired and feeling drained. Marcus is waiting for you
in the living room. You hug and kiss him before handing him the money you earned. You
don’t see Jasmin, so you assume she’s already upstairs.
“Is this everything?” Marcus asks you while counting the money.
“Yeah,” you reply in a bratty voice. Marcus looks up and smacks you hard, across
the face. Your cheek stings and the pain seems to radiate through your face.
“Don’t give me none of that damn attitude.” He glares at you, letting his anger
subside. “You gotta nice face; it’d be a shame if it got ruined.”
“Sorry.” You try to sound sweet and sincere.
“Four hundred. Not bad for a Tuesday night. You know, Genna, you got the
makings to be a great whore. Stick with me and in about a year you’ll be making a
thousand dollars a night,” Marcus whispers to you, gently caressing your face where he
hit you just moments ago. “Once you get a little more…experience, we can get out of this
dump. We’ll get a place in New York and get you a job as an escort for rich lawyers.”
“That sounds nice,” you whisper back, trying to sound pleased.
“Now, why don’t you go on upstairs and get ready for bed. Put on that little red
dress I love. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
“Okay, sweetie,” you say, walking slowly towards the stairs.
You sit outside the Acme taking the last few puffs of your blunt, while Jasmin
makes faces at the puppies in the pet store next door. You used to spend a lot of time
here; you got your first job here working as a bagger and later as a cashier. You have
another job now; a less respectful job, but a better paying job. You haven’t come to
revisit the past, though; you’ve come to say goodbye to two friends. You flick the end of
your blunt into the street as Jasmin makes her way over to you. Then, you pull yourself
up off the bench and follow Jasmin into the store. The inside of the store looks about the
same as when you left it.
“Genna!” you hear a girl exclaim and look to see Zoey checking out a customer.
“Hey, Boo!” you call back as your run towards her. You practically knock her
down as you jump on her.
“Where have you been? I’ve missed you. I came back from the beach and you
were gone.”
“Hey, I’ll be right back. I gotta grab a few things and then I’ll come through your
line.”
“Okay, Boo,” Zoey replies cheerfully. She’s so happy to see you. Jasmin is
standing in front of the banana table, so you walk back over towards her.
“Who’s that?” Jasmin asks, gesturing towards Zoey.
“That’s Zoey. She’s my boo.” Jasmin gives you a questioning look, but you
ignore her and continue walking towards the back of the store. You scan the seafood
counter, searching for Rob. He’s the only guy you ever truly fell in love with. You want
to see him one last time, to say goodbye to him, but he’s nowhere to be found.
Disappointed, you trudge back over to Jasmin, who is still staring at you, waiting for an
explanation. “Let’s go,” you mutter. Jasmin follows as you rush towards the door, not
wanting to have to say goodbye to Zoey. She’s a sweet girl and you know she’ll always
love you, but you can’t bear to say goodbye, to see the sad, puzzled look on her face, nor
to hear her confused questions.
Marcus isn’t there to pick you and Jasmin up yet, so you tell Jasmin to wait for
you there and that you’ll be right back. She just shrugs and plops down on the bench you
were sitting on earlier. You walk the familiar path that leads from Acme back to your
former house. You only lived there for two years, but it was like your second home. Your
mom had sent you there to live with your aunt and uncle so that you could attend a
“decent” high school and get a “better” education. You resented her for it at first. You
didn’t want to go to the states, the so-called “land of opportunity.” More like the “land of
judgmental people.” You’d never even met your aunt and uncle before, but once you
moved in with them, they started to grow on you.
You stand out front of your house, contemplating whether or not you should
knock. You want to see them one last time. Give your cousin a hug and tell him to stay
strong and never stop being himself. You really loved them and you thought they loved
you, until they showed their true colors and kicked you out. You’re still not sure why
they kicked you out. Maybe you went over on your texting one too many times, maybe
you partied a little too much, or maybe it was because you decided to stay in the states to
go to art school rather than going back to Barbados.
Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter; you’re not their problem anymore and
tomorrow you won’t be anybody’s problem. “Soon this will all be over,” you say quietly
to yourself as you turn away from the house and begin down the familiar path back to
Acme.
You sit quietly on the floor in the living room with your back up against the sofa.
Jasmin and Marcus are seated on the couch on either side of you. They’re both quite
drunk, but you’re just buzzed. You crawl over to the television and pop your favorite
movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas, into the DVD player. As the previews play you
go upstairs and grab two needles and a lethal dose of heroin from the medicine cabinet in
the bathroom. You go downstairs to find Jasmin and Marcus passed out on the sofa. You
return to your place on the floor between them and fill the needles with heroin. As the
movie starts you sing along with the characters, tapping your veins and preparing
yourself for death. Carefully you pierce the vein in your arm and push the drugs into your
bloodstream. Once the needle is empty, you pull it out and insert the second needle. Once
again you push the drugs into your bloodstream and then pull the needle out, laying it on
the floor beside the first needle. You lean your head back as the drugs rush through your
body. Finally, you let your eyelids fall and surrender to the unfamiliar darkness.
Alex Fabris
May 15, 2009
Short Story
Period 7
The Lottery
Anthony woke up to knocking on his car window. He opened his eyes and was
blinded by the light for a second and sat up to see what was going on, only to feel the
worst headache he had ever felt. Anthony saw that there was a cop knocking on the
window, and when he looked down, he saw a bottle of champagne on his lap that he
quickly threw to the ground, hoping the cop had not noticed it.
“Excuse me, sir, you’re going to have to get your car off the side of this road and
keep moving,” said the officer. “Oh and one last thing, you might want to get rid of that
bucket of fried chicken cause that’s looking pretty gross.”
Anthony rolled his window back up and was so surprised that the cop hadn’t said
anything about the champagne. Anthony was close to arriving at his mom’s house and
thought that it would be sanitary to brush his teeth to hide the smell of alcohol. He
grabbed his toothbrush, which was on the floor, and cut his finger on his disposable razor
that was also on the ground.
“God damnit!” Anthony exclaimed. His finger was bleeding pretty badly and he
needed to stop it. Anthony was trying to look as good as possible for his mom, and so far
things weren’t looking too good. He grabbed his New Year’s Resolutions paper and
wrapped it around his finger to stop the bleeding. He knew he would probably never
achieve any of those resolutions, so he didn’t care that he was using it as a band aid. After
he brushed his teeth, Anthony found two paper cups to rinse his mouth out with, but
realized that he didn’t have any water, so he poured some champagne in the cup and
rinsed his mouth out with that. Anthony grabbed his zipped up gym bag with the few
clothes that he owned and put it on his lap just as he pulled into his mom’s driveway.
Anthony stepped out of the car and walked up to the door. He slowly opened the door and
looked around. The last time Anthony had been here was when he just up and left about
three years ago. Anthony walked around the house looking for his mom but didn’t see her
anywhere. The phone had a message on it, so he played it to hear his mom’s voice saying
that if Anthony arrived before she got home, there was food in the fridge and to make
himself feel at home.
“I’m not a kid anymore; I don’t need her to tell me things like that,” said Anthony
to himself. He felt like shit so he went upstairs to the empty bedroom and passed out.
All throughout the day Anthony would look up at the clock, counting down the
time until he got to leave. This job sucked to begin with, but having no customers
whatsoever made it even worse. There was still an hour left of this boring work and he
just wanted to get out.
“Yo, Anthony, there’s nobody here so you can leave an hour early if you want,”
said his boss Mike.
“Are you sure?” Anthony asked.
“Yeah, it’s fine. If somebody comes in, I’ll be able to handle it cause it’s so slow
today,” said Mike.
Anthony walked out of that god-awful store, happy to be outside. He had to walk
to work earlier because his mom was still asleep and the damn car wouldn’t start.
Anthony passed a drug store on the way home advertising the lottery that had grown to
one hundred and sixty million dollars. He thought that there was absolutely no chance
that he could ever win the lottery, but he decided to buy a ticket anyway.
“What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll lose like five bucks. Who cares?”
Anthony walked into the store and asked the cashier for five tickets. He left the store
thinking about how cool it would be to win the lottery, but didn’t let himself get too
excited because he knew that winning it would never happen.
When Anthony got home about an hour later, he gave his mom a big hug because
this was really the first time he had seen her since he arrived at his mom’s house
yesterday.
“Hey Anthony, how have you been?” asked Anthony’s mom.
“I’ve been all right I guess. Work kind of sucks, but whatever. At least I’m
actually doing something now. Has everything been good around here?” he asked.
“Yeah everything’s fine,” she replied.
They talked for a while about many different things. Anthony looked over at the
clock to see that it was five o’clock, so he turned on the TV to wait for the lottery
numbers. After about ten minutes of lying on the couch waiting for the numbers, he fell
asleep and woke up to be able to see the winning number on the screen for only about
five seconds. He quickly tried to memorize the five numbers and grabbed a pen and paper
to write the numbers on. Anthony checked his tickets and the last ticket he checked had
the exact same numbers as what he had written. Anthony had no idea what to do. Before
he could get too excited he started second guessing the numbers he wrote down and
thought he could have possibly messed up when recording the numbers. Anthony quickly
jumped into his mom’s car and drove to the store where he bought the tickets. When he
saw the winning numbers, he stood there in shock. He had actually won the lottery.
The next morning, Anthony woke up at the crack of dawn, and he and his mom
drove to the lottery commission center. The initial jackpot was one hundred and sixty
million, but after taxes and all of the other deductions that were probably added just so
they didn’t have to pay as much money, Anthony received ninety-seven million dollars.
It’s a lot less than Anthony thought he would receive, but winning ninety seven million
dollars was still sufficient. On the way back home Anthony was thinking hard about what
he was going to do with the money.
“So I guess you’re not going to be living with me anymore?” his mom asked.
“Yeah probably not. I think I’ll be able to support myself for a while,” Anthony
said. His dream had always been to live in a big penthouse in the city, close to
everything. The good thing about it was that money was not a problem anymore.
Anthony didn’t even care how much a penthouse would cost because money was not
really an issue anymore.
Two weeks later, Anthony was officially an owner of a home for the first time in
his life. He had already said goodbye to his mom and was driving to his very own
penthouse in his new BMW M5 Sedan. Even though Anthony’s mom told him not to, he
planned on sending her some money every month or so just to make sure that she was
never in financial trouble. Anthony stood at one of the many windows in his penthouse
and looked down at the city. There were bars and strip clubs all around, and he knew
what he was going to be doing that night and probably every night for the next month or
so.
For the next few months, Anthony would go to strip clubs and bars almost every
night. He started drinking a little more heavily than before because he was always in that
kind of atmosphere. The people he started to talk to on occasion were drug dealers and
mobsters. Although he went out every night, he became lonely not having a family or
even a wife of his own. To compensate for his loneliness, Anthony would hire prostitutes
and blow a great deal of money on drinks and at strip clubs every night. His drinking
eventually lead to experimenting with drugs, and soon Anthony was making deals with
his friends and buying cocaine and mushrooms.
Anthony never questioned what he was doing, until one night when he was
driving home from a club. He got into his eighty thousand dollar car and started driving,
although he was hammered drunk and pissed off from gambling away twelve thousand
dollars in less than two hours. He was way too drunk to be driving and couldn’t
concentrate because of how angry he was, so he didn’t see the couple walking across the
street at the upcoming traffic light. Once he was about twenty feet away, he noticed the
couple, but it was too late. He slammed on the brakes but not enough time elapsed for it
to make much of a difference. Anthony’s car hit the man and the woman, propelling both
of them thirty feet or more, and causing Anthony to lose control of his car and hit a fire
hydrant.
“Holy shit,” said Anthony as he sat there in shock. After about a minute of just
staring out the window, he realized what just happened and stumbled out of his car,
looking for the people and to see if they were all right.
Anthony opened his eyes and was on a bed inside of a hospital. He had no idea
what happened from when he hit those people to now. Anthony was still drunk when he
woke up, but at least he was able to function. He looked around and saw a few cops
inside of his room and a doctor talking to them. One of the cops noticed that Anthony
was awake now and so they approached him.
“How are you feeling, sir?” asked one of the cops.
“Uh, I guess I’m all right. What’s going on?” Anthony asked the cops.
“I’m sorry to tell you that hit two pedestrians while driving. We would also like to
inform you that we have evidence that you were drunk while driving and driving way
over the speed limit,” the cop said. The only thing that was going through his mind at this
point was hoping that he didn’t kill either of the people because he would be going away
to jail for a long time.
“How are the people that I hit?” Anthony asked.
“One of them seems to be doing pretty well, just a few broken bones. The woman
is not doing so well. She’s in critical condition right now, but it is looking like the doctors
will be able to get her into stable condition. You’re lucky, well in the respect that you
didn’t kill anyone,” they said to Anthony.
Anthony didn’t know what to do. He knew he was going to get in a lot of trouble.
A few weeks later Anthony was in court for his DUI, speeding, and reckless
driving charges. He was sitting near the front of the room with hand cuffs around his
wrists. Anthony turned around and saw his mom in the back of the room with the most
dis-heartened look on her face. He could tell that she had been crying and that’s when
everything hit him. He couldn’t believe that he let his mom down so much. One week
prior to his court date, Anthony had to take a drug test, which he knew he would fail
because up until the accident he had been heavily using many different drugs. He looked
down at the desk in front of him and tears came to his eyes.
“Ok Anthony let’s get started. You are being charged with DUI, speeding, and
reckless driving charges,” said the judge. “The two pedestrians you hit while driving
were somehow lucky enough to still be alive. Had they not been so lucky you would be
looking at ten to fifteen years in jail.”
The judge looked down at some paperwork and started flipping through a few
folders looking for something. Anthony started to think about how awful it would have
been if he had killed one or even both of the pedestrians. He had been given the
opportunity to do something good in his life, and temporarily through it away.
“Ah, here it is,” said the judge. The results from your drug test are back and you
tested positive for marijuana, cocaine, and many prescription pills. You can either choose
to go to rehab for six months and then serve your year in jail, or just go straight to jail.”
Anthony knew that he needed the rehab but he wanted to get his life back on track
as fast as he could. He decided to go to rehab because his drug problems were getting out
of control.
At the end of Anthony’s trial, it was decided that he was to go onto probation for
a year after rehab for six months and a year in jail, pay multiple fines, and pay for the two
pedestrians’ medical costs. After Anthony started going to rehab and started getting his
life back into line, he realized how stupid he was. He had always been pretty levelheaded, but after he got all that money, everything went downhill.
In a weird way Anthony thought that hitting the two pedestrians helped him out
greatly. The woman that he hit wouldn’t ever be able to walk again because she became
paralyzed from the waist down, so Anthony sent her two million dollars, trying to make
up for what he did. He started supporting and joining groups and organizations against
drunk driving. Also, for the first time in his life, Anthony held a job for a while that he
liked. He worked at a rehab center, helping people with drinking and alcohol problems
similar to those he used to have. Winning the lottery was the best thing that ever
happened to Anthony, but it took him a while to become responsible enough to handle it.
John Flowers
Short Story
It was just another routine day for Jimmy. He’d get up at six, brush his teeth, get
dressed, eat breakfast, and then catch the bus. He had been accustomed to this routine for
as long as he could remember. In forty-five minutes, he would be standing outside his
house, pacing back and forth, waiting for the school bus. Giving himself plenty of time to
get ready wasn’t a bad idea, for Jimmy often times moved at an iceberg’s pace and
always seemed to take longer than the rest of his family.
Jimmy woke up at six o’clock; the same time he woke up every morning.
Sluggishly, he rolled out of bed; he was extra tired today. His physics test the night
before kept him up until well past his average bedtime. It took him five minutes just to
walk to the bathroom across the hall. He reached the sink after what seemed to be
forever, turned on the hot water, and began to get ready. He brushed his teeth, washed his
face and hands, and then dressed. He began heading down towards the kitchen, being
careful not to trip over himself on the steps. His almost-closed eyes altered his view him
as his attempt failed and he was at the bottom of the stairs quicker than he anticipated.
“Damn it!” he yelled.
Startled, Jimmy picked himself up off the floor and finished his walk to the
kitchen. His breakfast his mother made was waiting for him, as always: two scrambled
eggs, a blueberry muffin, and a glass of orange juice.
“I’m starving, “ he said to himself.
He wiped it down in five minutes. Looking at the clock, he realized he only had
ten minutes before his bus would be there, so he quickly stood up from his chair and
kissed his mom goodbye and headed for the door. He closed the front door behind him
and walked to the end of the driveway. Five minutes later, the bus pulled up. He started
towards the bus and suddenly realized he forgot his backpack in his room. He was angry
at himself and at the physics test for throwing off his routine.
“Hang on for a minute. I forgot my backpack,” Jimmy told the bus driver.
By the time the bus driver made an annoyed reaction, Jimmy was already opening
his front door and running up the stairs.
Jimmy ran up to his room as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to keep everyone
on the bus waiting. He went into his closet and turned on the light. He began to dig
underneath his dirty laundry to look for his backpack. When he found it, Jimmy threw it
on his back and closed his closet door. Before it was completely shut, he caught sight of
something out of the corner of his eye.
“Hurry up! I can’t wait for you much longer!” he heard from outside.
This something was shining brightly through his dirty laundry. Forgetting about
the bus waiting outside, he began to explore the depths of his closet, searching for the
light. He continued to explore until he found the cause of the light. He had no idea what it
was, so he carefully pulled it out from underneath the clothes. It was a knife and there
was blood on it, still wet.
“What the hell is this? It’s still wet!” he exclaimed.
He heard the bus engine rev and pull away. He had no ride to school and was
stuck home for the day, but for once, he did not care that his day wasn’t routine.
Jimmy tried to go back to bed, but for the first time he could remember, this was
not possible, not after what he saw this morning, anyway. He sat in his bed for what
seemed like forever, just thinking about what to do. If he kept it to himself, there was the
possibility of his solving this mystery on his own. There was also the possibility of his
parents finding out somehow. They would eventually find out anyway, just hopefully not
by someone else. This was why he had to consider his other option. He didn’t want to
create any extra problems, which is what would probably happen. He would have to sit
on it for a while, but for right now, he would try to get back to sleep.
Jimmy woke up to the sound of the front door closing. It was his mom. The
television was still on from earlier this morning. He looked up at the clock hanging from
the wall, and it read three thirty. On a normal day, he would have already been home
from school, so he knew that his mom had no clue about him skipping school. He had
been asleep on the couch for nearly five hours before being woken.
“Hi Jimmy. I’m home. How was our day at school?” his mom asked
“It was okay. I’m just really tired now,” he answered.
Jimmy tried not to act too suspicious; he didn’t want her to know anything just
yet.
Jimmy’s mom was a nurse at the hospital down the street. She only worked for a
couple of hours each day, but it kept her occupied. His dad was a lawyer, on the other
hand. He had his own firm in the city and was very successful. He had taken part in
some of the biggest cases in the last twenty years, including several murder trials. Jimmy
knew he would be able to do something about the knife he found in his closet earlier; he
would know what to do. If there was one person that would be able to find out how the
knife ended up in his closet and where it came from, it was Jimmy’s dad.
Dinner tonight was fried chicken and mashed potatoes, his favorite. As Jimmy,
his mother, and his father sat around the dinner table, Jimmy listened to his mom and dad
talk about each of their days. Jimmy tried not to get into this conversation because he
knew that if he said one thing out of line, he would have to tell them the rest of the story.
He chipped into the conversation where he could so that they didn’t think there was
anything too out of the ordinary going on, but at the same time, he didn’t want to say too
much. As he was talking, Jimmy could see from the corner of his eye his mom staring at
him. It was the kind of look where she knew that something was wrong, but he wasn't
saying anything about it. As soon as he looked at her, she asked, “How was your day,
Jimmy?”
He hesitated for a second, but recovered quickly enough to save himself from any
further trouble.
“It was good. Nothing really interesting happened. Boring as usual,” Jimmy
replied.
He could feel his nose growing longer by the second. He wondered if they knew.
He couldn't keep the secret from them any longer; he would have to tell them. He was
feeling way too much pressure right now and if he didn't tell them, he would feel guilty
for holding something this important back from his parents. What if someone actually
broke into the house and left the knife in the closet? There was always the possibility
that this was just the beginning of several things to come, as much as he didn't want to
believe it.
Jimmy took a deep breath and began to tell them all about his day. The sooner he
told them and got it off his chest, the better. At least that's how he felt. He told them all
about skipping school, finding the knife in his closet, and how he had been keeping this
from them. He was glad that he told them; now he didn’t have to worry about it
anymore, or at least feel that it was all his responsibility. Something wasn’t right,
however. His parents didn’t seem to show much interest. They were usually the type of
parents who, if something was wrong, would be the first ones to try to fix it. This was
different, though. He didn’t know what, but they just acted differently around him after
he told them he found a knife in his closet. They didn’t seem like they wanted to talk
about it too much, so he let it go. He finished dinner and went up to his room to work on
his homework. By the time he finished his homework, it was getting late. Three hours of
homework was a bit much. He turned on his TV, went to lie in bed, and started watching
SportsCenter again. He was asleep within minutes.
Jimmy was once again awoken by a noise. This time, it was not his mom. It was
coming from his closet. He was scared. He looked up, careful not to move any other part
of his body except for his head. He didn’t know who it was or why they were here, but
the more he looked at the figure, the more familiar it became to him. Whoever it was,
they were kneeling in the closet looking for something. For what, he had no idea. The
figure got up and turned around. Jimmy could see a knife in his hand. It was the same
knife that had been there the morning before. Jimmy noticed something else that he found
strange. They were walking with a limp. There was only one person he knew that
walked this way and it was his father.
That morning at breakfast, Jimmy decided to ask his father about the knife.
“Dad?” Jimmy asked. “What were you doing in my room in the middle of the
night last night?”
His father was slow to respond. Surprisingly, his father didn’t deny the fact that
he snuck into Jimmy’s room. In fact, he was completely open to talking about it. “I
didn’t know you saw me. When I walked in, you were still sleeping, so I tried to clean up
the rest of…” His father stopped. Jimmy sat up in his chair. He suddenly grew very
curious and wanted to know what his father was talking about.
“What is the rest? You’re telling me you know where this came from? Why
haven’t you told me?”
The only thing his father could think to do was to tell him what had really been
going on. He hesitated for a while, contemplating on whether or not t tell Jimmy the
truth. After a long pause, he began. “I’m actually in the mafia. I’m a lawyer, yes, but
I’m also the leader of the mafia. The knife came from me. I had nowhere to put it, so I
threw it in your closet until I could find somewhere else to put it, thinking you wouldn’t
go there.”
“What!” Jimmy exclaimed. “What the hell are you thinking? Why would you
ever do something so stupid?”
Jimmy was not ready for anything like this. At the most, he was expecting his
father to admit that he was in his room, but not all of this other stuff. He didn’t know
how to deal with it right now. He was shocked, surprised, and scared all at the same
time. Maybe after a while, all of those feelings would settle down.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve killed someone. I’m only telling you this because I
was already under the impression that you suspected that I was involved somehow. I
want you to be able to trust me and not look at me any differently. You’re still my son
and I’ve never done anything to hurt you before, so why would you think otherwise right
now?”
“You’ve been hiding this from me for all of my life! What else are you hiding
from me? This is ridiculous. I can’t believe it. I don’t know what to say.”
The truth was that Jimmy had plenty of reason to think otherwise. His father
turned out to be the leader of the mafia; he was responsible for the murders of several
people and has been hiding this from Jimmy for all of his life.
“I didn’t want to tell you yet because I didn’t think you were ready to know,” his
father told him, “but since you found the knife and saw me in your room, I figured I had
to tell you at some point.”
Once again, Jimmy couldn’t fall asleep. This time, however, it wasn’t because he
was scared to go to bed. It was because he couldn’t stop thinking about his conversation
with his father earlier that morning. In a sense, Jimmy knew his father was right. Why
would he treat Jimmy any differently now if he hasn’t been for the last sixteen years?
Jimmy couldn’t think straight anymore; there were too many thoughts running through
his mind at one time. He wanted to maintain a close relationship with his father, but
would this still be possible? Jimmy would try.
When Jimmy woke up, it was Saturday morning. He woke up extra late today,
eleven o’clock. Today would be a long day. He needed to figure out how to deal with
his dad and just try to get through the day. His dad was off from work today, so he
expected to spend the day with him. When Jimmy woke up, he didn’t want to go
downstairs, so he stayed in his room and watched TV. Not long after, his father knocked
on the door.
“Can I come in?” his father asked from the outside of Jimmy’s door.
Jimmy didn’t answer, so his father just walked in.
“I want you to come out to breakfast with me,” his father told him. “I want to
show you that I still care. Just telling you I care doesn’t really do anything, so I want to
show you; I want you to trust me again.”
At lunch, Jimmy sat across the table from his dad. It was awkward because
Jimmy didn’t want to say anything, but his dad wanted him to talk to him.
“Talk to me,” his father begged him.
That was the icebreaker. Something needed to be said by either to loosen the
tension.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m confused,” Jimmy told him.
Jimmy realized that he had no other option but to talk to his father. It was the
only way Jimmy would be able to trust him again. As Jimmy started to talk to his father,
he could sense the trust rebuilding between them. Hopefully, they would be able to get it
back to what it once was just a couple of days earlier. To Jimmy, it wasn’t so much
rebuilding the trust between his father and him. Jimmy wanted his father to be more like
a typical father: one that he could talk to if he needed, one that had a normal job and one
that didn’t hide things from him.
This morning was Monday morning. The weekend flew by. Jimmy began his
routine all over again. He got up, brushed his teeth, and got ready for school. He ate his
breakfast: two scrambled eggs, a blueberry muffin, and a glass of orange juice. Today
before he left for the bus, he was sure not to forget his backpack.
“Bye, mom. I love you,” Jimmy told her.
He set out for what he hoped to be another routine day.
# 14 / best scene
Allison Grosenkemper
The story machine
Doctor
Burning shirts
Their Spot
He is amazed how quickly her shirt was engulfed. He stands just watching. That’s all
he could do. He feels the heat from the burning blood-covered clothing. She was younger
than him, David Spencer thinks with tears in his eyes. He just watches the orange yellow
flames grow into the dark almost completely black cloudless sky. He thinks back to this
morning. it had been the last time he saw her alive. She was still in the clothes that lay
burning in a pile. There now melted to her burnt skin. The smell of burning rubber fills
the air, and standing on the side of the highway, he sees the fire trucks and ambulances
coming to put out the wreck. By the time they get here it was too late she is gone. Before
the ambulance speeds away, he takes one last look at his love. As the trucks pull away he
says, “Goodbye, I love you.”
He stands where minutes before he had watched the firefighters rip the huge SUV’s
door from its hinges while attempting to save Etta. The mangled car still sitting there in a
pile of burnt scrap metal twisted around the tree. David slowly walks to his silver Malibu
and cautiously pulls away, as the tow truck pulls up to clear the mess. He can’t bear=2
0staring at the wreck any longer. He drives back toward to their home; the usual ten-
minute drive seems to take about an hour. He drives through the little town where they
had spent their life together.
He starts off driving slowly down Main Street and stops as he arrives at the front of
Bryer’s local high school where he had first met her. It was tenth grade and David had
just moved to Washington State from Colorado.
“David Spencer?“ the older woman standing in the front of the classroom-taking roll said.
“ Here,” he replied softly. The class turned and examined their new classmate. He tried
to act cool, trying not to show that he saw the entire class had turned around to look over
at him. Suddenly he heard a tiny “Hello” that came from his left. He looked up from his
desk to see a beautiful bright blue-eyed brown haired, gorgeous girl looking over at him.
“Hello?” she said again
“Hi,” he replied
“ I am Etta.”
“David,” he said, still feeling shy from all the eyes burning holes in the back of his green
Colorado State University sweatshirt.
“ Oh just ignore them,” she said, seeing that the other students were making him
feel uncomfortable. “ Where is your first class?”
“ Um…” He scrambled through his uncoordinated stack of papers given to him by the
office within the fi rst ten minutes he had walked through the front doors. “ Science with
Mr. Fredrick.”
“ Me too! Would you like company walking there?” she asked with a spark in her
voice.
“I’d love one,” he replied.
David finds himself sitting in the parking lot of Bryer’s High School with the same
smile that he had that first day that he laid eyes on her; ever since that day they had been
inseparable. He puts his car back in drive and pulls down the road, heading towards the
local theater. This was where they shared their first date. He parallel parks in the same
spot he had that night.
“She was so beautiful,” he says to himself as he finishes parking the car.
“Two for Forest Gump,” he said to the girl at the window. They walked into the theater
as her flowered pink sun dress blew in the warm humid spring air. There was a storm
blowing in, and by the time they left the theater the heavens opened up and there was a
downpour of warm rainwater. He took his jacket off and wrapped it around her slender
body, attempting to keep her as dry as possible; they ran to the car, where they sat for
about an hour waiting to the rain to die down. Once he thought it was safe to drive he
started off slowly down the road being cautious of the wet road that he was driving on.
As David sits in front of the now=2 0closed theater he thinks of her Forest Gump
would later become their favorite movie and they watched it on this anniversary every
year. He can’t picture watching it without her there next to him holding his hand just as
she had that day. He remembers his bright blue Chevy truck riding down that same road
where he had found her earlier that day. His mind flashing between images of those
wonderful years and her beautiful smiling face. He only thinks of the happy memories.
The next second his mind flashed to his last memory of her, her SUV wrapped around the
tree. Her body lay lifeless and only looked as if she was just sleeping and would awake at
any moment.
He starts the car and drives a mile down the road to their driveway. He pulls in to find
that her Ford SUV is not parked there. Then it hit him,“ She is really gone!” The thought
hits him like ton of bricks. His eyes swell up. He remembers those days walking through
the doors of their home and seeing her beautiful smiling face, which always seemed to be
waiting for him. He cannot imagine walking in to an empty home, the warmth will be
gone their life together is over.
He pauses in the driveway, his foot still stomped hard down on the break petal the
engine still rumbling, the head lights illuminating the house where they had raised their
children, grew old together, spent most of their lives in, where they were always together.
The tears streaming down his face,=2 0showing no signs of letting up, “ I can’t do it,” he
thinks to himself. “ she was everything, she was my world, and now she’s gone, stolen
from me.”
David sits there in his driveway for hours, sitting and crying remembering their lives.
The sun is coming out now. “The neighbors will be up soon. I can’t bear telling them
about where she was or what has happened.” He turns the car off and steps slowly out of
it. He takes small slow steps dreading getting to that front door. He pulls out his key,
sticks it in the lock, and slowly starts turning the key. He listens to the slow clicking of
the key turning in the rusted lock. He stopped half way. “ I can’t go in!” he says as he rips
the key out of the lock. He collapses on the front step, his hands clung to his face wiping
the tears from his eyes.
David then leaves and drives south, not knowing where he is heading or what he might
find, all he knows is that he is away from this place, their place. All the know is that he is
away from their place and that will never return.
I.
Main characters Steve and Mark are planning out their weekly fishing trip.
II.
Driving in car jamming out, smoking cigarettes, dressed in camo, and getting
all the noise out of them before they reach their secret spot.
III.
Arrive at secret location, named “ Lakes Mouth.” The secret spot is highly
patrolled by the gaming commission and it is posted that there is NO
Trespassing! NO Hunting! NO Fishing! And NO Trapping. Violators WILL
be prosecuted!
IV.
The two men begin their 20 minute trek through the woods till they hit the
crossing spot. The river is about 5 feet deep at the tops of the boulders, and
another 3 to the soft sand below.
V.
After the crossing, the guys sit down to enjoy one of the “Cancer Sticks” as
Ma’ called them. They arrange their gear and string up their lines. After tying
off the perfect fisherman’s knot, Steve picks up a giant 6 inch night crawler
and squares it onto his barbed fish hook. They behind to hike
VI.
The two men come to the point of which they call “bass beach.” This one
spot has pulled out some of the biggest fish either of the boys have ever
reeled in. Large Mouth Bass, Catfish, Coy, rainbow and brown trout. Then
there were the nonsense fish like sunfish, crappies, and carp.
VII.
After reeling in a few big ones, Mark sees something that he knows will get
Steve’s heart pumping. A giant Common Snapping Turtle. Steve dives into
the murky water and grabs onto the beast. He wrangles the 20 lb turtle onto
the shore and they both are amazed with the turtles prehistoric look. This was
common of Steve to do. Mark gets chomped and kills the 10 year old giant.
Dinner!
VIII.
The two men set up camp, eat dinner, tell old campfire stories, then plan out
the following day and lay down in their sleeping bags. God damn bugs.
IX.
Sunrise. The men stir up the fire and open a can of baked beans and pick at
the turtle shell and pack up their gear.
X.
The two men start their adventure by heading up a new trail. Stong odor gets
the mens attention. They explore around and find a thick, giant patch of
thornbushes and thin nothing of it. Mark notices some plastic soda bottles cut
up. Find pot field, cut plants in amazment.
XI.
Leave scene of the plants and begin to hear voices. Furious, the farmers begin
to shoot scream and they are heard running through the woods. The two
brothers scramble through the woods with a pack of freshly snipped nuggets.
The boys heats race as they hear gunshots behind them. They take cover.
XII.
Farmers walk right by the two men, with their thousands of dollars in
marijuana. The men don’t know what to do with the “grass” and they begin to
get their bearings and try to find their way home.
XIII.
Along the walk back to the bass beach, they laugh in amazement. Money!
The two men found out that they love being adventurous and daring more
than they could have ever thought.
Doing Right, by Doing Wrong
A Fictional Story by Nick Hetland
Brothers Mark and Steve are packing their camping bags as they prepare for
another weekend at Lakes Mouth. This journey is not a new one to them, it has been
taken often. Summertime is when the two brothers are free again and they return to
the wilderness. Mark is 23 and Steve is 20.
“Hey, Mark! You all geared up, man?”
“Yeah, I’m ready to go.”
“All right, we’re gonna hit up Lakes Mouth then hike to Bass Beach. We’ll set
camp at Bass Beach.”
“Sounds good, bro”
After driving for thirty minutes and getting all the noise and excitement out of
them, they arrive at the spot. They park the car where they have previously removed a
“No Parking” sign. The brothers quickly get their stuff together. Lakes Mouth. The
secret spot is not highly patrolled by the gaming commission, but it is under strict
rules. They have never been busted down there, and it has been a great spot for
fishing, hunting, swimming, and just chilling. It is posted that there is NO
Trespassing! NO Swimming! NO Hunting! NO Fishing! NO Trapping. Violators
WILL be prosecuted! They pay no attention.
Steve leads the way through the thick forest as he ducks and hops over sticks and
sticker bushes. It’s about a twenty minute walk down the riverbank to where they
have to cross the river. The two brothers remove their boots and take their socks off.
They look at the water. It’s moving pretty fast, but it is still crystal clear. The brothers
begin to unbuckle their belts and turn slightly away from each other as they drop
trow. As they step into the water, they let out their cries and moans as the freezing
cold water takes hold of the men’s bodies. They hold their gear up above their heads
as they step across the five foot deep water, carefully stepping on the giant boulders
below making sure not to sink to the bottom of the river. This is the most logical
place to cross taking into consideration that the river is at least seven feet deep and
these boulders are good stepping stones.
As they come to the shore on the other side of the crossing, the two brothers jump
out of the water back onto the sun-warmed sand. They dig their feet into the sand and
take in the ninety-five degree weather. They sit down and spark up one of their
“cancer sticks,” as their mother called them, and take notice of the weather.
“Such a beautiful day,” Steve says.
“Yeah. What kind of bait are you going to use today?”
“Think I’ll stick to the night crawlers, plain and simple.”
“I don’t know what lure I’m going to use yet.”
“Hopefully, they’re biting today.”
“I know, right.”
The brothers assemble their fishing rods and begin to string them up. They
carefully pull the twenty-eight lb. test through the poles’ holes. After they both
simultaneously tie off the perfect fisherman knot, making sure that it was tight, they
turn the weights. The boys don’t mess with bobbers or anything like that, even though
they work. They’re more into the basics and the essentials. Anyways, they start their
hike down the river, heading toward the spot they call “Bass Beach.”
On arrival at their spot, the two brothers see all sorts of wildlife. Red eared sliders
and painted turtles line the riverbank and begin to slide abruptly into the water. The
two men watch the turtles swim on top of the water. They pop their heads out of the
water to take one last deep breath before diving to the bottom of the river to feed.
Almost a year ago at the same spot they are headed to, Steve caught the biggest fish
he has ever caught in his life. It was a three and a half foot coy fish. It was gold,
white, and black. It took the two men twenty-five minutes to reel the monster fish in.
Mark had to dive into the river and wrestle the clunker before he snapped the line.
The giant weighed in at forty-three pounds and the men only fish with twenty-eight
pound test; it’s a miracle that his line didn’t break. They’ve pulled out large mouth
bass, small mouth bass, stripped bass, rainbow trout, brown trout, coy, catfish, perch,
crappies, and worst of all… sun fish.
“I’d rather catch no fish than sun fish,” says Mark.
“Same,” replies Steve as he grabs a five inch night crawler and feeds the hook
through the worm.
The men cast out, while sparking cigs up. They sit and occasionally give the rod a
little tug and reel it in a foot or so just to get the worm moving again. Mark using one
of his favorite minnow lures, watches it bob on the surface of the water and wiggles
as he reels it in.
“FISH ON!!” yells Steve as he is overcome with joy as he fights with the fish.
Almost at the same time a giant bass comes to the surface and swallows Marks
lure with a big gulp.
“Ohh, yeah!” shouts Mark as he begins to fight with his catch.
The guys laugh and joke while they fight together, side by side, bringing in the
clunkers, as they call them. When they finally got them on shore, they see that Mark’s
bass is bigger than Steve’s catfish. The catfish was cooler, though. Releasing the fish,
they cast out again. One fish after another, they keep reeling them in. Big, small,
giant, medium sized, and then just god damn huge! The catch was enormous.
Laughing harder and harder, rods bending and reels winding, Mark screams…
“Snapper! Right there, Steve! You see him?”
Steve immediately starts getting undressed down to his boxers with no hesitation. “Where
is he?”
“Right there next to the fallen down tree.”
“Got him”
Steve jumps into the water in a split second and begins to swim after the monster.
He dives, disappearing into the depths below. Bubbles start floating to the top like a pot
of boiling water. After about forty-five seconds of this hectic battle, Steve comes bursting
out of the water with a giant common snapper turtle. It fights and snaps at Steve as he
struggles to get back to the shore where Mark is standing.
The turtle is old and prehistoric like a dinosaur. It is covered by a layer of black
and green muck that has been growing on its shell since it hatched. It smells like the pond
scum and attracts flies and other little insects that love that stuff. The beast is pissed off.
It growls and hisses at the men as they stare above it. Mark picks up a stick and begins to
poke fun at the snapper. He lets the turtle bite hold of the stick as they watch with
amazement as the turtle snaps the stick like a toothpick. Steve picks up his knife and
starts scrapping his initials into the large animal’s shell. Tracing over and over again,
until the initials are to his satisfaction. He is about to finish and about to let the exhausted
turtle go, when Mark picks up the knife and begins to scrape his initials into it. As soon
as he has the “M” done, the beast lunged to the left and chomps onto his forearm. He
screams as the turtle pulls his arm into the giant protective shell. Steve doesn’t know how
to react to the situation and stands there watching his brother scream in agony. Steve
knows that if he tries pulling the turtle off, he may damage his brother’s arm for the rest
of his life. Almost as soon as this happens, it was over. Mark had taken the knife that he
was initialing with, and stabbed the turtle way down in its shell. He severed its spinal
cord saying…“snapper soup anyone?”
Later that night after the fire has been lit, and camp set up, Steve brings over the
turtle that he has been cleaning for the past hour. The turtle probably weighed twenty
pounds. Now having been cleaned and gutted, they were looking at about six pounds of
meat and plenty of bait for tomorrow. Putting the turtle shell onto the fire, and using it
like a pot, Steve dumps the turtle meat in, followed by a trout and a 16 inch catfish. Steve
doesn’t mind doing the dirty work like cleaning the fish and getting the meal ready. Mark
reaches into his pack and pulls out 2 lemons, garlic, onions, peppers, and an assortment
of spices topped off with a half can of beer. As the guys sit around the fire, they spark up,
inhaling deeply, just enjoying the moment.
“So where we off to tomorrow?” asks Mark as he gazes at the stars.
“I don’t know, man. I was thinking about taking a new trail or something. I kind
of want to explore a little. We could walk down to Devil’s Rock and rock climb up to the
top.”
“Yeah,” Mark says as he takes another drag.
“I always wondered what’s up there. We definitely got to do that. Are you up to
it?”
“I’m down for whatever.”
After about an hour of watching the food simmer in the turtle’s shell, dinner was
done. They take out their sporks (a spoon and a fork at the same time) and dig in. The
snapper has a spicy taste to it, but it’s good meat. Somehow, catching your food for
yourself and then preparing it only seems to make it taste better. The smell from cooking
the food has attracted many animals. They hear fox crying; it almost sounds like a girl
getting raped, it’s a very scary sound when you’r not familiar with your surroundings.
The raccoons as well, made an appearance.
Mark turns around and sees a big ‘coon not ten feet away from them “fearless
little bastards. I wish I had my .22”
“Yeah they wouldn’t be within a hundred yards of us right now if we did.”
Continuing to chow down, the men settle back. Steve lays back and loosens his
belt buckle. After kicking off his boots and removing his socks, he looks over at his older
brother. Mark was passed out with a cigarette still burning in his lips. Steve walked over
to his brother and gives him a good smack.
“You better get to bed, man. I’ll take care of the fire. Catch you in the morning,
and you’re making breakfast!
There’s a thud as Mark falls onto his sleeping bag. Steve stirs the fire up while
picking at turtle meat.
The next morning Mark catches breakfast before the sun came up. He cleaned the
fish, got the fire ready, and opened a can of baked beans. Mark wakes his brother and
they eat together like always. After the meal, they strip down and jump in the cold water;
they call this their “Polar bear swim.” It shocks their bodies and gets them ready for the
day.
Sunrise.
“Ready to go?”
“Hell, yeah.”
The brothers start their trek down the river. They don’t do too much talking. It’s
all business. They check out their surroundings, making sure not to miss anything,
which also includes keeping an eye out for snakes, turtles and other wildlife, Steve
picks up long straight stick, and as they walk, he begins to sharpen one end. His
brother does the same as he sees the weapon that was made.
“All right...” Mark pauses. “We’re here.”
The men look up at the giant cliff that they call Devil’s Rock. They call it this not
just because it is huge, but because it is deep red with dark veins in it. It looks like it
rose straight out of hell. Steve, being the more adventurous one, gets up close to the
rock and checks it out. They have never climbed Devil’s Rock, but over the years, the
two brothers have become more and more daring and adventurous.
“There’s definitely some good footholds on this thing.”
“As long as you climb it first then give me a safety rope, Ill do it.”
As soon as those words are out of Marks mouth, Steve dropped his pack and
began to scale the nearly vertical cliff. Once he reached the point of no return his
brother shouted up some word of encouragement.
“You got it, man! If you fall now, you’re done!”
Steve grins, knowing that his older brother is just breaking his balls, but he
continues scaling up the cliff with ease. Steve knows the danger that he is in. He’s
about forty feet off the ground and he’s almost at the top, at least that’s what he tells
himself. He doesn’t think about the chance of him dieing. Steve isn’t afraid of much.
He’s more afraid of his older brother than anything else in the world. Steve doesn’t
like disappointing people so he pushes on until he reaches the top. As he crawls over
the top of the cliff, he’s in unknown land. He ties the climbing rope to a tree and
throws the other end to his brother below, hoping that it is long enough.
After both the brothers reach the top and managed to get their gear up, they begin
to explore. This is completely new to them. The walk about fifty yards and come to a
dead end. There is a wall of thorn bushes that seemed to be never ending. Walking up
and down the trail there seems to be no way around this. Mark kneels down with a
puzzled look on his face.
“You smell that?”
“Yeah, I smell that”
The smell that the two brothers are talking about is the smell of marijuana. This is
not the smell of burning M.J., this is the smell of freshly growing marijuana. They
both know this smell, it is very distinct.
“You go that way, and I’m going to go check out this side.”
“All right.”
The men split up, determined to see if their noses are correct. Steve sneaks around
looking for the forbidden crops, while being aware that farmers could be around. This
could be bad… really bad. Illegal farmers are usually heavily armed and ready to do
battle to protect their precious crops. The brothers meet back up and they discuss
what they saw.
“It’s a giant ring of thorn bushes; we got to get inside there.” Mark looks to the
sky and notices that there is a hole in the canopy of the forest. Staring into his
brothers eyes, they realize exactly what they have found, and also knowing what they
have gotten into.
As the two brother’s army-crawl through the thick thorn bushes, getting cut up
and stuck every two seconds, they see the light up ahead, glowing green, the smell
only gets more and more pungent. Excitement overwhelms the two brothers as they
crawl faster and faster, until they finally pop out the other side of the natural fence.
They stood up.
“Holy shit.”
There must have been over a hundred cannabis plants that were all as tall as the
brothers. The brothers run into the circular field and come to realize again what they
have found.
“This is big, real big Steve. Get the knives out of the bag, start cutting, we’ve got
to get as much as we can!” Mark exclaims.
Steve throws his brother the same knife that was used to kill the turtle the night
before. Mark begins hacking the buds off the plants and continues to throw them in a
pile. Minute by minute, the pile gets higher and higher. The two brothers giggle as
they run around this pot field and harvest someone else’s plants. They stuff their bags
with as much pot as possible and slowly come back to reality. As soon as they put the
last bud in their bag, they hear something; it is a deep voice coming from outside the
natural fence. The sound of a razor sharp machete slashes through the thorn bushes.
“Hide!”
The brothers scramble to get out of the open as they watch the 6’7’’ man come
barging through the sticks right next to them. It takes him a minute to take in what he
sees.
“FUCK! You cock-sucking little bastards! Where are you!?” screams the burly
man. He is furious as he runs into his field to assess the damage.
Mark hands Steve his bag and tells him to take it and run. Steve hesitates but he
knows what he has to do. He takes the bags and begins to make his way through the
thicket. As Steve approaches the end of the fence, he hears something behind him. He
looks and sees his brother scrambling toward him.
“Get back here you son of a bitch!” The angry farmer had seen Mark in the
bushes and begins cutting his way through the thorn bushes. Steve hunkers down next
to a rotting log and makes eye contact with his older brother. They both know what
will happen if the farmer catches them. As Mark comes barreling out of the thorn
bushes, the farmer is right behind him. Steve sees the event unfolding right in front of
him. He needs to act. Steve looks down at the ground for some kind of protection.
The only thing in sight is a log about the size of his leg. He grabs it, holds it tight and
prepares to do battle with the oversized, pissed off, farmer. Mark stops and begins to
plead with the angry farmer.
“Where’s my shit!?” screams the farmer at Mark.
As soon as the words come out of his mouth, Steve stood up behind him. With
blood in his eyes, he looks at his brother from behind the giant farmer. The farmer
yell, “Where the hell are my buds!”
Mark slightly nods and gives Steve the signal. The farmer is puzzled. Steve winds
up right as the farmer is raising his machete. He swings with all his might; THUD!
The farmer takes a blow to the top of his cranium, falling instantly to the ground. The
brothers scramble and begin to run back down the trail, repel down the cliff, and take
off down the bank. As the two brothers begin to run back to their car, Steve
remembers something.
“The rope! If that guy wakes up, he is going to know which way we came.”
“Just leave it.”
“No, if he knows where we came from, he’s going to know about our spot. Who
knows, he might even wait for us to come back. We’ll never be able to come to our
spot ever again.”
In an instant, Steve runs back to Devil’s Rock. He begins free-climbing the cliff
with intentions of cutting the rope. He gets a little more than half way up when he
hears the farmer groaning in agony. Steve slices the rope and begins climbing back
down like a monkey. Once he meets back with his brother, he breaks him the news.
“I couldn’t get all the way to the top. That guy is going to know that we came
down here.”
“Shit. Well, whatever, man, we got to get the hell out of here.”
The brothers looking down the river bank at Devil’s Rock, see the farmer standing
at the top of the rock looking for them below. Steve pushes Mark into the brush, and
they take cover. Steve takes out his binoculars and takes a look.
“Ohhh, no.”
“What’s up?”
“He’s trying to climb down the rope! I don’t think he knows it’s cut.”
As they watch the farmer attempt to catch them, he reaches where Steve had
sliced the rope. Without noticing this, the farmer keeps descending hand over hand
until he reaches the end of the rope. He panics and lets go of the rope, falling about
thirty feet onto sand. The brothers think about the situation for a second. They look at
each other puzzled, then look back at the man just in time to see him moving.
“I got an idea!”
Steve takes out his cell phone.
“Hey, 911, I was about a mile upstream from Husky Bridge, there is a man in
need of help, I think he is seriously hurt.”
The 911 dispatcher informs Steve that help is on the way so the brothers take off.
When they get back to their car and get on their way, they begin to laugh, looking
up into the sky seeing a helicopter trying to find the hurt man.
“I hope he’s all right” says Mark
“Yeah, at least we got away. And we got all his crop!”
The two adventurous brothers laugh with joy and excitement as they take the
drive home once again. After watching the evening news, the brothers find out that
that farmer was doing a lot more than just growing pot. Rescue helicopters saw
strange fields of light green plants and called in the Drug Enforcement Agency. When
the DEA was called to the scene, they ventured back into the woods and found four
more fields and a meth lab. Apparently, this man had been doing his fair share of drug
trafficking, but for now, he’s going to jail. As for the two brother’s, life goes back to
normal. They still take fishing trips every week, but they will always remember the
adventure up Devils Rock.
The Kali Monster
I sit in the back seat, hands shaking, nervous of the task ahead. I should have a
settled stomach because I have done this before. I’m a monster hunter, and I have
recently gotten a contract with Animal Planet. I cuff my hand in front of my mouth.
“Are you okay man?” The cameraman asks me in a thick Hispanic accent.
“Just feeling a little car sick, this isn’t exactly a paved road.” I lie to him. The
cameraman nods his head and falls for it. How would it look if the man believed to be
afraid of nothing is nervous? This could cause hostility in the group. “How long will it
take to arrive at the town?” I ask.
“Very soon,” the guide replies.
My crew and I are in India driving to a small town located along the Kali River.
The case that I’m trying to solve is of the Kali Monster. The Kali Monster has been
terrorizing to town. The monster has already taken two children, a twelve-year-old boy
and a nine year old girl. My initial thought was it was probably an alienated alligator, but
studying the river current proves a gator was highly unlikely. So, going in I have little to
no guess the true identity of the monster.
All my life I have been fascinated by unexplained happenings. At age ten I left
my family on a hike on the Appalachian Trail. I didn’t want to go down the dangerous
trail. Four hours later I met back up with my family. They had been looking for me the
entire time. I never went to college rather toured the world for three years. My parents
always wondered why I never turned out “normal” like them. This always made for a
strenuous situation with my parents. I had lost contact with his parent after I became a
bounty hunter. I have come to realize most of what I accomplished is to gain the respect
of my parents. I have always wondered if our relationship would ever improve.
We arrive at the town at nine. The town is dead, but with no men out on watch I
got the sense that the town must have been safe. I would have been a little worried if they
had been because it would have been a land monster. I’m willing to bet it is a river
monster my specialty.
“Set camp along the river,” I said.
“If this is an alligator couldn’t it attack us?” a cameraman replied.
“We will have a watch all night, but if I had to guess I would say our monster is in
the lake. Besides I need to get close to the monster if I’m going to catch it,” I replied.
After an uneventful first night, we made our way into the town. This poor fishing
town is connected by a strong culture base, and I fell I must be careful not to disrupt any
of the emotions of the town. With my guide as my mediator, we went house to house
asking about the monster. All the townsmen pointed us to the two families of the victims.
I knew I had to be incredibly sensitive because the deaths were only two months ago.
“Are you here to kill the monster,” a little towns girl asked me through the guide.
“Well I promise you I will try my best to find out what it is,” I replied
As the guide and I entered the first victim’s house, the nine year old boy, I got
chills running up my back. I felt like I was going to throw up again. This is what I hate
most of this job. Also, the lack of sleep, and constant camera in my face is bothersome.
For a second my mind wondered off into possible retirement for bounty hunting, but then
we were greeted by what I would expect, the boy’s father. His mother was cooking in the
tiny kitchen. We went outside of the tiny shack to ask questions so as not to upset the
boy’s mother. The guide began to talk to the father. I couldn’t help but get that stomach
cramp I can only remember getting at a funeral. The father begins to cry, and I can’t help
it and I begin to as well. The guide gives me a stare of disbelief. It just hit me that my
team holds me to this superhero stature. If only they knew of the feelings I have had only
one day into this trip. The father shakes the guide’s and my hands, and then goes into the
hut. We started to walk to the second victim’s home. On the way the guide explained to
me what the father told him.
“The father was a fishermen like most of the men in this town. He was fishing one
day while his kids were swimming in a calm section of the river, when all of a sudden he
heard screaming. He rushed to the river. What he saw was a little unclear, but basically
he saw a pool of blood, and the while he was pulling out his other kids, he saw the
monster.”
“What did it look like?” I fired at him.
“That was a little unclear, but basically it looked like a shark. It was giant too. He
said the massive size of the monster thrashing in the water created a whirlpool of sorts
causing the water to get even murkier. The town had a search party in the water only
thirty minutes after the attack. They were unable to find anything.”
The rest of the walk was silent. The next attack was the same story different
victim. We went back to camp to discuss our findings.
At camp I gave a video blog of what happened at the town that day. After, I
walked over to the fire where I met my team.
“What are we dealing with, man?” Steve, who is the head cameraman, asked.
“Well, we have an idea, right? It is a fish of some sort. It is probably not a shark
because this is an impossible living environment for them, but it can be mistaken for a
shark. Do you have any idea, Jamaal?” I had just learned the guide’s name is Jamaal.
“Um, well, I agree that it is not a shark, but logically there is no fish in this entire
river that would have the size to eat a human,” he says.
“Okay, well, I’m thinking the fish must be about the size of a human to take down
one. I will throw out a line tomorrow where the two attacks were committed.”
“Realize we have about four days before the monsoon season begins. If we don’t
get out by then the roads will be not drivable. We could possibly be stuck here for
months.”
The next day I set out my line with a live fish, which only a large predator would
be able to consume, and played the waiting game of fishing. I sat on a rock for what
seemed to be hours, thinking about how I hated this place. Also, that this isn’t the legacy
I want. Suddenly, the line began to move. I jumped off the rock and began to reel in. The
fish was massive and it began to swim up current. Almost as suddenly as I hook it the
line snapped under the immense pressure. I tossed down my rod in disgust, and at the
same time I heard a screech. Upstream there was another attack. Only this time it was no
child, but our guide, Jamaal. He must have been washing himself when he was attacked.
By the time I got there, I saw the beast. The monster was a giant catfish called a goonch,
the local bottom feeders. I froze in fear. My research led me to believe these fish can only
grow to three feet max. That is why I didn’t suspect them, but this one was a man size
goonch. As the team dragged out Jamaal, I stood at the bank speechless. His leg was
shredded off. He was bleeding all over the sand as the goonch swam back into the deep
murky waters of the Kali
“Mother of God.” It was all I could get out.
The funeral was two days later. At the request of Jamaal’s family his body was to
be burned by the Kali River, which was tradition if possible in India. At the funeral, I
couldn’t even look at Jamaal’s mother, whom I had met about a month earlier. I had
never witnessed a fire funeral before. It seemed barbaric to light the body on fire. I
couldn’t stand the sight, but I watched out of respect for Jamaal. I found one thing
interesting about the funeral. They don’t burn the body to ashes. They throw the burnt
carcass into the river after about an hour of burning, which, the more I thought about it
makes sense because to burn a body to ashes the temperature must be in the thousands.
We had not hunted the monster for the previous days leading up to the funeral.
We are sitting by the camp fire pondering the risks of this hunt. “Well we have one last
day before the monsoon season. My vote is to pack up and go home tomorrow morning.”
I broke the silence knowing there were others who thought the same.
“You have got to be kidding me. Jamaal’s body is floating down the river, and
you just want to cut our losses and leave. No way. I vote to stay until we capture this
thing. This could consume an entire town. I don’t care how long it takes, even if we have
to stay in the town until after monsoon season,” Steve announced.
The team shook their heads in agreement with Steve. I was in too deep. There was
no way to leave now. I had to do what I do best, investigate. “Well, we know the monster
is a goonch, and it is human size.”
“How is that possible?” the team asked.
“Well, that is a good question. The goonch is a bottom feeder that usually is about
three feet long. The one that attacked Jamaal was six to seven feet. I understand how the
town’s people could have believed it was a shark. It looked very much like one. I believe
the more immediate question is how many of these monsters there are?” I said.
“You’re telling me there could be more than one of these things?”
“It’s a possibility that this is a mutant fish, but I would suggest not. The other
attacks with the kids suggest this fish must be at least ten feet long with probably a three
foot wide mouth. So I believe that all the goonch in this area grow to be in that range of
eight or nine feet in length.”
“Still doesn’t answer how they could become this big,” Steve said.
“Bottom feeders can become immense in size as long as they have a food source
that they can survive on. Much like people suspect that Big Foot is not possible because
where they are sighted there is not a large enough food source for an animal that size to
live on. So how are these fish getting that big?”
“What are the sizes of the fish around here?”
“Not big enough. It has to be something else.” My eyes wander over to the burnt
wood, which was Jamaal’s funeral bed. “That’s it,” I exclaim. “This town is giving them
the food to grow. These monsters are getting big off of human bodies. The people just
drop the bodies, and these fish finish the job.”
“That’s pretty gruesome,” the team replied.
“I bet that the kids were attacked maybe a day or two after a funeral, and that is
why they were attacked. These fish are not typically predators. They feed literally off the
bottom.”
“ Well, why did it attack Jamaal?” Steve asked. There was a pause, and I felt like
the team was thinking just as hard as I was.
“The fire!” I yelled. “These fish are attracted to the fire we have because they
believe there is a meal to come. Jamaal was attacked only feet from the fire. I guarantee
right now that these fish are attracted to the fire as we speak. Okay, I’ll catch this thing
under two conditions; we leave tomorrow and no one goes into the water.”
I cast out the line as soon as the sun broke. I figured there would be little time
before the first bite. I cast the line right next to the fire. I thought to myself that I’m
partially to blame for Jamaal’s death. I decided to camp right by the river and not the
town, which consequently lead to the fish attacking him where the fire was and where he
bathed. Suddenly, the rod begins to bend. This fish is more powerful than the first fish I
hooked.
The fish must have been huge, and it began to run upstream. I was going to lose
him again. I had to do something drastic, or it was all for nothing. I hesitate, but before I
think over my actions, the fish pulls me into to the river. I let my adrenaline take over,
and I finally have no fear. My feet skim the rocks on the bottom of the river. I ramp up
the shore, fish still on the line. The current is weaker, and I begin to reel the monster in.
As I’m reeling the team is knee high in the water to pull the fish onto the beach. I see one
member of the team grab the tail of the fish. It is massive. It takes four men to bring it up
to the beach. I’m speechless. This goonch is massive. No one talks. We just get to work
weighing it and measuring it. The goonch is seven foot nine, and two hundred and ten
pounds. We took pictures, and videotaped our monster before putting it back into the
river.
“So what is next on the list?” Steve asked while we were driving away from the
town.
“This is it for me,” I confessed. “This work is not for me. There must be
something better out there for me to do.”
“This has to be a joke,” Steve replied.
I didn’t answer, and kept my mouth shut for the long ride back. My team
wouldn’t understand. It would be the last time I ever talked to any of them. All I can
think about is how I could be responsible for a man’s death, and how I have to change
who I am before my life is over.
Nicole McClennen
Short Story
Sweethearts
It was about two months from her senior prom, Riley still didn’t have a date. She
wanted to go with her ex, Anthony, whom she was still madly in love with, but she didn’t
think that would happen anymore since Anthony had a girlfriend now named Kaylee
whom Riley wasn’t very fond of. Anthony and Riley had been together for about a year
and six months and they were both now seniors in high school and were ready to
graduate, but little did they know Courtney, Riley’s best friend, and Vince, Anthony’s
best friend, both had something up their sleeves because they were both tired of hearing
them talking about how much they missed and loved each other.
Riley and Courtney hung out every weekend with each other to figure things out for
prom and whom they were going with. But one Friday night changed everything. Riley
and Courtney were sitting on Courtney’s bed talking and all of a sudden there was an IM
from Vince.
Vinceman3487: Yo court what you doin next saturday night?
XoCoUrToX3649: umm I think prob just hanging out with riley why what’s up?
Vinceman3487: Bc im havin a party and u and riley should go. Ant will be there and
maybe him nd riley can talk bc I didn’t invite kaylee I don’t like her ha ha.
“Ry, Vince wants to know if we want to go to his party next Saturday night.”
“Are Anthony and Kaylee going to be there?”
“Vince said that Anthony is going but he’s not inviting Kaylee because he doesn’t like
her,” Courtney said to Riley while she started laughing.
“Yeah, let’s go; I wanna hang out with Vince and Anthony like the good old days,” Riley
said while she started smiling.
“Yeah, they were some really great times; we always had fun together all four of us
always laughed so much.”
“Yeah, we did. Do you remember that one day when Vince and Anthony dressed up as
girls and we went to the mall?” Riley said as she started to laugh.
“Oh my goodness, yes, I remember that and everyone was looking at us like we were
crazy.”
“Yes. They were it was the greatest.”
Vinceman3487: yo u there
XoCoUrToX3649: yea srry im here. I was asking riley if she wanted to go.
Vinceman3487: nd?
XoCoUrToX3649: yea we’re gonna come, it should be fun.
Vinceman3487: ok cool nd na it will b fun lol
XoCoUrToX3649: ha ha right
Vinceman3487:iight well im out ima go tell ant that riley is comin and we’ll see wat
happens
XoCoUrToX3649: ha ha okay by vince
Vinceman3487: late
Riley was so happy about how she would be able to see Anthony again and Kaylee
wouldn’t be all over him like she was every day in the hallway, especially when Kaylee
saw Riley walking down the hallway. Riley just figured that Kaylee did that because she
knew that what she and Anthony had was nothing like what Riley and Anthony had. Just
by the way that Anthony and Riley looked at each other, you could tell that something
was there, something different then from the way that Anthony looked at Kaylee.
Everyone said it was because Anthony still loved Riley deep inside but didn’t want to
admit it to anyone except Vince. The only way that people could tell was by the fact that
Anthony always talked about Riley or asked how she was doing and what she had been
up to and stuff like that.
Riley and Anthony really did have that connection with each other; they were like the
high school sweethearts type. They barely fought or if they did they made up minutes
later, and they had this little thing where it seemed like they knew what the other one was
thinking. Riley could be talking about a topic and no one could tell where she was going
with it, and then Anthony would just pick up right where she left off, talking about the
same thing, or better put they finished each other’s sentences.
The next couple of days at school seemed a little weird, just for the fact that Riley knew
she and Anthony would be with each other at the party. She was already getting nervous
for some odd reason. She didn’t know what to expect since it had been so long since she
and Anthony actually had a conversation with one another since they broke up months
ago. Her feelings were a mix of excitement and nervousness. Courtney and Vince both
told her to just relax because she had nothing to worry about and that everything would
be fine. She just needed to take things slowly and see what would happen and hope for
the best because at that moment that was the only thing that she could do.
Vince had talked to Anthony about Riley one day at the gym and Vince wasn’t shocked
at all with some of the things that Anthony told him. He told Vince how he still loved
Riley so much and he didn’t know why he went to Kaylee. He thought it was because at
the time Kaylee was the only one that acknowledged him since Riley was upset with him
for breaking up with her. But he told Vince not to get him wrong, that he did like Kaylee
and everything, but she just wasn’t Riley. Riley made him a better person; she always
made him smile even if he didn’t want to. She knew the right things to say or do. And it
wasn’t so much big things either; it was mostly the little things that proved to him how
she really did care about him.
That Friday at school Riley and Courtney were standing outside of Riley’s locker talking
about where they would go shopping to get new outfits for the party tomorrow night.
While they were standing there, Anthony and Vince walked by and Anthony looked and
smiled at Riley and gave her a head nod. She smiled and waved back to him with a shy
look to her. She didn’t want to come off too strongly, but she wondered why he was
acting like that because he had always ignored her after the breakup. She didn’t seem to
care much, though she was actually happy that he finally noticed her again. But she
thought it was strange that the day before the party was when he came out of his shell
with her.
At two o’clock the bell rang for the school day to be done. Riley and Courtney went to
Riley’s car and they found a note underneath the windshield wiper. Riley grabbed the
note and opened it with the biggest look of shock on her face.
“Court, it’s from Anthony!”
“You’re kidding me! What does it say?”
Ry,
I know we really haven’t talked much in awhile but I wanna start again. I can’t wait to
see u at vince’s tomorrow night. I really have missed that big smile of yours. The party
will be so much better now that your gonna be there. I’ll see you tomorrow night.
Ant
“Wow, that is a shocker,” Courtney said to Riley.
“I know, right, but what do you think this could mean?”
“I have no idea.”
“Hey, I’m really not complaining though; it’s actually nice, I think. This was such a
surprise, ya know?”
“Oh yeah, I know.”
The girls got in the car and headed to the mall and went in and out of many stores to
find the perfect outfits, but when they were just getting ready to leave they both spotted
these really cute ones in the window of DEB. They both went in and found their sizes of
the skirts and tops. Courtney got a dark pink top with a jean skirt, and Riley got a baby
blue top with a jean skirt also.
The time finally arrived for the girls to head over to the party and Riley had more
butterflies in her stomach that she had had in a long time. She was so nervous again. She
tried telling herself that everything would be okay, but now that the time had come, the
nervousness came back and wouldn‘t go away.
When the girls got to the party Vince answered the door and told the girls that Anthony
was in the living room. The girls headed to the living room to see Anthony, but when
they walked in he was standing there flirting with some girl that Courtney and Riley
never saw before. But when Anthony saw Riley were there he gave one of the girls a hug
and a kiss on the forehead then headed over towards them. When he went over to Riley
he gave her a big hug. As he hugged her, her face lit up with a big smile and all of the
nervousness went away to a point. She was now concerned about that other girl and who
she was and what Anthony thought of her. Riley was thinking being in his arms felt
normal again, somewhere that she had missed so much, somewhere she had loved. But
the one thing that surprised her was when they pulled away from each other; they just
stared into each other’s eyes like the old times and they both liked that. But there was
something that was eating Anthony up inside and he needed to get it out in the open.
“Riley, will you go to prom with me?”
“Wait. What about Kaylee?”
“I don’t want to go with her. I want to go with you.”
“Well, of course I’ll go with you. But aren’t you guys still together?”
“No.”
“Since when?”
“Since earlier today. I knew I wanted to take you for the longest time so I told her how
I still have feelings for you and I said how I thought it would just be better if we were just
friends.”
“Wow, you did all that for me?”
“Yes, babe, I still care about you a lot . I never really stopped.”
“Aww, I never stopped either,” Riley said with the biggest smile on her face.
“So then you won’t get mad if I do this?” Anthony said as he leaned in and kissed
Riley.
“No, I didn’t mind that at all,” Riley said with a big smile on her face.
“Good, well get used to them again because your finally mine again,” Anthony said as
he leaned in for another kiss.
“Who was that other girl that you were flirting with earlier though?” Riley said in an
innocent voice.
“Oh, Jenna? She’s like a sister to me. Our moms grew up together. Babe, remember I
used to talk about her? She is the one that went away to college and now she‘s home for
the weekend.”
“Oh yeah. I remember her now. Sorry, baby, I was just worried that you liked her or
something and you were going to end up with her.”
“Of course not, baby. There is only one girl in this world that I want and that’s you and
only you,” Anthony said as he leaned in for another kiss.
Riley was so happy that she was speechless for a couple of minutes. She always
thought in her heart that they would get back together, but she never thought that it would
really happen. But now that it did, she was more excited about prom than she had been in
the last couple of months. She was so even more happy due to the fact that she and
Anthony got back together and would be going to their last prom with each other.
Emma McNamara
May 13, 2009
Mr. Zervanos
LeRoy
When he woke up, he was walking. He didn’t know how long he had been
moving before he came to. He looked down at his shirt. There were two smeared
handprints and red splatter on it. There was a splitting pain on the side of his face. He
continued to stumble down Fourth Avenue, vaguely aware of the shocked faces of those
who passed him. He caught his reflection in a car window. He bent down to look at his
face. Only then, did he realize he was holding a t-shirt up to his nose. Apprehensively, he
lowered the shirt in order to assess the damage. His eyes were practically swollen shut.
His face was covered in blood from the cuts on his forehead. LeRoy gasped in horror as
he saw his nose; it was completely parallel to the ground.
“Don’t be a hero, son,” he heard an old man yell from somewhere behind him.
Being the boy full of pride that LeRoy was, he straightened up, held his head high, and
tried to walk as proudly as he could home.
This was the tenth fight LeRoy had gotten into this month. Only this time it was
in Fishtown. As he walked the twelve blocks back to his own neighborhood, he tried to
piece together what had happened. He remembered walking down the street with his
girlfriend, Natalie, and her friend Jackie. He saw the group of guys up the street towards
them.
“Get out of here,” he told the girls. His palms started to sweat. He knew he was
going to have to fight this one alone; there was no way his crew could make it there in
time. He braced himself as the crowd circled around him. He saw the first fist fly towards
his face. He remembered trying to stay standing, but it was so hard when they hit him in
the stomach. He dropped to all fours. He felt feet and knees smashing into his side and
head. Then everything went black.
LeRoy pulled the now blood stained shirt away from his face; his nose had not
stopped bleeding for blocks.
He fell to the couch, exhausted. Tim leaned over top of him.
“What the heck happened to you?”
“It’s nothing, man. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he whispered. All LeRoy wanted was
sleep.
“Dong, tell me you didn’t go to Fish today.”
“Tim! Shut up! Say anything to anyone about this and I’ll beat your face in.”
Tm was LeRoy’s best friend. He tried not to be too mean to Tim, but sometimes
he really deserved it. Tim had a good heart, but LeRoy had tough skin and didn’t need
anyone to take care of him. They had been best friends since grade school. Tim was the
one who fed LeRoy didn’t have any food. Tim took LeRoy in when his family got
evicted when he was ten; LeRoy’s mom spent all their rent money on drugs. They had
done everything together, from play backyard basketball, when they were eight, to
joining AJ’s gang, when they were sixteen.
Heavy footsteps stomped up the stairs. LeRoy stopped breathing. AJ. The door
swung open with a swift kick. AJ was powerful, strong, intimidating. All the guys knew
not to cross him. AJ was built like a fighter, covered in tattoos and scars. His eyes were
permanently mashed together in a glare. He wore his usual black shirt. LeRoy noticed the
slight bulge on his right hip where his gun hid. When AJ walked into the room, the boys
stiffened a little. They wanted his respect more than anything because respect was
everything.
“What the…?” AJ laughed, “What happened, Le?”
“It’s really nothing, honest. J-just g-got into it with some kids,” he quivered.
“Who?” AJ’s joking tone started to face.
“Andre’s gang,” Tim blurted out.
“WHAT?! Andre’s gang? From Fishtown?”
LeRoy nodded his head, fearing the worst from AJ. He had been warned not to go
back to Fishtown, but he couldn’t help it. Natalie lived in Fishtown.
“You’ve got to be kidding me! You got a death wish, kid? You know Fish don’t
like Port, simple as that. You know what we gotta do now.” AJ reached into his back
pocket and pulled out his cell phone. In one swift moment, he was sending out the
message. LeRoy had gotten AJ’s group messages before. They were always short and to
the point. When you got the text, you obeyed. Leroy’s phone buzzed in his lap a few
seconds after AJ shut his.
It read, “HOUSE NOW EVERYON.”
Ten minutes later, the previously empty apartment was packed. There were about
thirty guys trying to fit in a room only big enough for ten. AJ stood up when everyone
was there. The chatter stopped dead.
“Yo, LeRoy, stand up, man. Show ‘em what Andre did to ya.” LeRoy did as he
was told. He was still dizzy from the fight and the blood flow from his nose had just
started to slow. No one made a sound.
“Ya’ll know what we gotta do. I can’t be going around looking like a chump. My
crew – our crew – can’t let Andre get the last hit. He’s tried stuff before. His boys got
some of you already, but none this bad. This is it. He’s gonna pay.” AJ moved closer to
LeRoy. He put one hand on LeRoy’s shoulder. “We gotta do it for Le here. He’s family.
Family don’t let nobody hurt family.”
Revenge. It was the sweetest word LeRoy had ever heard. Family was the
prettiest. He ad never belonged to anything before. He never had anyone who truly had
his back. LeRoy had been passed around from relative to relative most of his life, pretty
much taking care of himself since he was eleven. His dad bailed when his mom was
pregnant with LeRoy. His mom was too into drugs to care about him. Being in AJ’s gang
gave him a home, a family, a place to belong.
The plan was set into place. The gang was going to have a drive-by of four cars.
They would wait until Andre and his thugs walked outside their house and then let fire.
Andre left his house every Friday at nine o’clock on the dot to go patrol the
neighborhood. AJ wanted to get Andre, to prove he was more man. Killing was the only
way to prove that you were best in this war.
The bus doors opened with a hiss. He looked her up and down. She was the
prettiest girl he’d ever seen. He loved everything about her. Her long brown hair, her
haunting green eyes, the way she looked at him. She had the build of a dancer, strong legs
and lean arms, although she never liked dancing much. She and LeRoy were complete
opposites. They disagreed on most subjects, but they complimented each other perfectly.
He was a thug and she was a good girl. She told him when he was being an ass, and he
told her when she was acting crazy. They loved each other. She was his angel. Sometimes
he swore she glowed.
She stopped at the last step and smiled his favorite smile.
“Hey, big man.” She jumped off the step and wrapped her farms around him. The
feeling of her in his arms made his mind go blank. Other than the gang, Natalie was the
only good thing he had. He had liked other girls before, but this was different. LeRoy had
never been a believer of love, or “the one,” but the first time he kissed Natalie, he knew
he would do anything to be with her forever. She stoked his face where his cuts were
starting to scab. She kissed his cheek and sighed. Something seemed weird. She looked at
him strangely, not because his face was smashed in, she was used to seeing that, but
because something was on her mind. LeRoy didn’t know what was wrong but he knew it
couldn’t be good.
“Le, we have to talk,” she whispered when they were alone in his room. He hated
those words. They meant he was about to get a lecture about something stupid he did.
“Oh god. What did I do now?”
She looked away, “I’m late.” The words meant nothing t him for a few minutes.
Then it hit him, like a ton of bricks. He stared at her, his mouth slowly falling open.
“LeRoy, I’m pregnant.” She wouldn’t look at him. Natalie’s body slumped as if
all her energy had been sucked out. She looked helpless. LeRoy had no idea what to say,
do, or even think. He was numb; only the words ‘LeRoy, I’m pregnant,’ floated around in
his head.
He slid closer to her and pushed her head onto his chest. Her body started shaking
as she cried.
“What are we going to do?” LeRoy knew the answer. He knew where Natalie
stood on abortion.
“I think I’m going to keep it,” she whispered. LeRoy’s heart dropped. He was
going to be a father at eighteen and there was no getting around it.
LeRoy didn’t know what to do, or whom to talk to. So he turned to AJ. LeRoy
looked up to AJ the way a boy looked up to this older brother. He walked up to AJ’s
door, hesitated, then slowly knocked.
“Yeah?” a sleepy voice answered.
“Uh, AJ, it’s LeRoy. Can we talk?” The door opened and LeRoy walked in.
“What’s good, homes?”
“Nat’s pregnant. I don’t know what to do. Like, I want to take care of her and the
baby, but I’m crazy scared and I don’t think I can do it.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up. Don’t be jumping ship because one chick got
knocked up. If I did that, I would have been tied down for a long time now. I’ve got a few
kids floating around. It ain’t no big deal.”
“But I think she’s the one.” LeRoy looked away, embarrassed.
“Please tell me you don’t really believe that! There ain’t no such thing as ‘the
one’. I thought this one girl was the one. She got knocked up and I was going to marry
her but right before I bought the ring I found out that the hoe was sleeping around. The
kid probably isn’t even mine.”
“I just don’t know man. I love her.”
“Just remember Le, girls can get up and dick you over any day but your family
will always have your back.”
LeRoy was stuck. He sat up all night looking at his gun. Family. Revenge. Love.
Family. The words floated in LeRoy’s mind as he contemplated what he was going to do.
LeRoy wanted to take care of the baby and Natalie, but he knew he couldn’t turn his back
on his crew. He knew that if he went on the drive by tomorrow, he could get locked up or
killed, then Natalie would be all alone to raise the baby. But if he didn’t go with his gang,
he would be kicked out or killed.
“Family doesn’t turn its back on family,” he asked himself, “but what family is
more important to me?”
LeRoy slid into the driver’s seat of his car. It was unnaturally dark on busy city
block. His hear thudded heavily in his chest. Tonight was the night. His heart was torn,
take care of his gang or Natalie. Run with the gang or run away. He knew what he had to
do, and there was no avoiding it.
Fishtown. He pulled off the road, in front of the house. His hands were coated in
sweat; he had to wipe them off before he could grab the key and twist it. The engine
sputtered to a halt. He waited, nervously. He knew that the next few minutes would
change his life forever. He would either get away with it or not. It he didn’t there would
be extreme prices to pay.
The door creaked open. One black silhouette appeared in the doorway. LeRoy
reached into his pocket. This was it, nine o’clock on the dot. The figure walked slowly
down the stairs, towards his car. LeRoy’s eyes were locked on the face. The silhouette
looked up, saw LeRoy staring, and stopped.
“Hey, big man,” her velvety voice filled the gap between them. Natalie climbed
into his car and kissed his cheek. “What are you doing here?”
“Eh, nothing really. I, um, just have a, a question for you.” He reached deeper in
his pocket, the pocket that should be holding his gun, the pocket /that new held the ring
box. His sweaty hand opened the small box. Natalie’s eyes stared into his as the emotions
changed on her face, confusion, shock, then finally and most importantly, extreme
happiness. LeRoy knew, no matter what the repercussions he was definitely about to face,
he had made the right decision.
Final Copy
Matt Milling
Short story
4-14-09
It seemed like forever ago that Jaiden had left to go to the Wawa. I was getting
scared because it was right down the road and it had been over twenty minutes. I picked
up my lighter and grabbed a Newport from the open pack sitting on the coffee table. I lit
it and began to inhale the smoke. As I took my second drag my phone began to ring. My
phone said that the number was private, so I didn’t pick up because it is usually just
someone playing a prank on me. I proceeded in watching the television and my phone
vibrated. It said that I had one new voicemail. As I picked up my phone to check it, my
phone rang again. It was the same private number, so I answered. “Hello?” They
answered back and said that it was the Middletown Police Department and I was
speaking with Officer Carmichael. I asked what the problem was and he said that there
had been an accident. I dropped my cigarette in the middle of Jaiden’s living room and
sprinted out of the door. I pulled up to the Wawa and saw Jaiden’s car, which had
tumbled a few times into a telephone pole. I pulled up to speak with the officer and he
began to question me, asking if my friend had been drinking or been doing any drugs. I
replied that he had a few beers before he had left. He asked if I had anything to drink or
any drugs. I told the officer that I had in fact been drinking some Budweiser and I had
smoked a marijuana cigarette. He told me to sit in the back of his car and I told him I
wanted to see my friend first. He told me no, everything would be fine. I heard someone
radio in to the trooper, saying that they had a fire emergency on Bloomer Street. This
seemed strange because I had just come from Bloomer Street. The officer jumped in his
cruiser with me in the back and raced down the street back to where Jaiden lived. We
pulled up to Jaiden’s house and I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. His house was
up in flames with fire pouring out of each and every window.
“Oh my god, that must had been from my cigarette I had thrown,” I thought to
myself.
The officers ran out of the car up towards the house and waited for the fire
rescuers to get there. They took only about three or four minutes to get there and
immediately began spraying water onto Jaiden’s burning house. I felt so bad because I
couldn’t help but think that this was entirely fault.
While I was inside the cop car, I heard someone yell, sounding like they were
very anxious to get ahold of the trooper. I heard them say that the kid in the accident
wasn’t doing so well and they were going to transport him to the nearest Philadelphia
hospital by helicopter. This is not what I expected to happen. All we had done that night
was normal kid stuff, or so I thought.
I had to spend a night in a jail cell by myself behind a giant, sliding, titanium door
with only one small window. In the morning they came over to my cell and said that my
parents had arrived to bail me out so that I could be a free man until my court date. When
my parents arrived they looked a lot more upset than angry. They told me immediately
that Jaiden was in a coma and they did not know when he was going to come out of it, or
if he even would come out of it.
The officer took off my shackles and made me sign a whole bunch of paperwork
before they would let me leave with my parents. The papers said that I would report back
for court in about seven or eight weeks.
This was all happening so quickly I didn’t even know if it was reality or not. I felt
like everything in the room was spinning and I was going to wake up from my horrible
dream any minute. But, no, as much as I would like this to be a dream, this was reality.
The car ride home was mostly silent except for my father lashing out at me because I had
let my friend drink and drive, and for drinking and driving myself. We pulled into a
driveway that didn’t seem to be mine. We were now at Jaiden’s house, or at least what
was left of Jaiden’s house.
“Now get out, walk up to the front door, and apologize to Jaiden’s family,” my
father screamed at me. I hopped out of the back seat of my parent’s Volkswagen Taureg
and slowly paced up to their brown and white front door. I rang the bell. Soon enough, I
heard a woman’s footsteps. I took a deep breath. The door slowly opened and it was
Jaiden’s mother. She stood there staring at me and tapping her foot with her arms
crossed.
“Well…” she said with a sigh. The cordless phone she had in her hand began
ringing. The phone only went for half of a ring and she picked it up. She seemed to get
wide-eyed when she answered the phone. She must have been on the phone for only five
seconds and she dropped the phone and passed out. My parents jumped out of the car and
ran up to Mrs. Benson. My arm shot down for the telephone. I answered it and asked who
I was speaking with, and they said they were from the hospital and they had just got the
news that Jaiden wasn’t doing well on his respirator and had passed away. Now I was
wishing more than ever that this could be a dream but sadly enough, it wasn’t.
I was lost for words. “What did they say, Evan?”
“……I’m not really sure…. Jaiden is dead,” I replied softly.
There was nothing but silence. It felt like everyone in the world had stopped
talking for one moment in time and there was nothing but an utter silence that almost
chilled the skin. We had to stay until Mrs. Benson was revived from her deep,
unconscious nap. She was out cold for a good twenty-five minutes. She woke up with a
blank expression on her face, and it didn’t really look like she knew where she was or
even who she was. “My poor child...dead. Why me? First my house and now my child.”
I didn’t even want to bring up the fact that I had been responsible for their house burning
down also. I had no idea what to say to the woman. I was so upset over Jaiden’s death
that I seemed to convince myself that he wasn’t really dead so I wouldn’t break down in
front of my parents.
Once Mrs. Benson started to feel able to work, she sped off to the hospital where
her husband and son were. We went along with her just in case she had another nervous
breakdown or fainted. We all arrived at the room where Jaiden was lying, and his father
was sitting next to him in a computer chair holding his cold, lifeless hand. “What the hell
were you thinking letting him drive, Evan! Look what happens!”
I didn’t respond I don’t think I could even talk at the sight of my dead friend. I
had to get out of that room. I was feeling sick to my stomach. My parents figured that
they would leave Jaiden’s parents to be with their son. We got out of the room and
walked to the car. It was the most quiet car ride I’ve ever been in with my parents. The
silence was eerie and unnecessary. I couldn’t even think of anything I could possibly say
to lighten the mood, so I just kept my mouth shut. We pulled into the driveway and there
were several state troopers parked with their lights off. Godamnit, I thought to myself,
they were definitely here to question me. I got out of my backseat and one officer walked
up to me and asked if my name was Evan Holmes. I replied that yes, in fact I was.
“Get on the ground!” the cop yelled at me with his gun drawn.
“What did I do? What did I do?”
“Don’t ask questions, scumbag.”
After several cops got on top of me and beat me senseless with their nightsticks,
they jumped off and the same officer, Officer Carmichael, grabbed my hands and cuffed
them tightly and threw me in the back of his car. “Where are you taking my son?”
The police didn’t respond and they took off with me in the back of the car. Being that I
was eighteen, my parents really had no say in what was going to happen to me. I knew
something was up the second I got to the station because several detectives immediately
started questioning me about the arson at my friend Jaiden’s house. I told them that I was
a little shaken up about the loss of my friend and I would prefer to talk later, but they
wouldn’t take no for an answer. They told me that they had enough evidence against me
to put me away for a few years. They said that I had a mandatory three months in jail for
my DUI and if I got charged for arson, then I would be doing five months upstate or three
years in a juvenile corrections facility. I wasn’t looking forward to either, but I figured
that I would just admit that I was responsible for my friend’s house being damaged. I told
them the story of my entire night, and they wrote it all down and made me sign the
document. They told me that I could go home around 3:15 in the morning. I called my
parents for a ride home, but nobody answered. I was forced to walk three miles back to
my house at three in the morning. I finally got back to my house and laid down for some
much needed rest. I sat in my bed and stared at the ceiling. My best friend was dead. I
couldn’t believe all this had happened so fast. Also, I was a wanted criminal. I never
thought I would see the day.
I woke up the next morning and flipped over on my right side and stared at the
alarm clock: 4:56 A.M. It was still really early, but I couldn’t sleep. I kept having
recurring dreams about different ways I could’ve stopped all of this from happening. It
hadn’t even kicked in yet that my best friend’s funeral was soon to come and I was
probably going to get some jail time. I turned over on my left side and fell back asleep. I
woke up to a loud yell coming from my kitchen.
“You moron, I got the call from the police station. If you get charged with arson,
it is coming out of your paycheck.”
“Obviously Mom, just stop yelling. You don’t think I’m worked up enough over
losing my friend.”
I walked downstairs and poured myself a bowl of Fruity Pebbles, my favorite
cereal, and sat in front of the TV and put on whatever corny, MTV reality show I found.
It was around 11:45 and I could hear a knock at the door. I was afraid it was going to be
the police, but I walked over to open the door anyway. I opened the door and was
pleasantly surprised. It was only the mailman. He had a package and said it was for
Dianne Holmes. I was relieved.
“Oh and here’s the rest of your mail.”
He handed me several envelopes. I flipped through each one to see what was
there. I got down to the last envelope and it was addressed to me. It said it was from the
Pennsylvania Corrections Department. My heart sank. I opened the envelope to see what
they were going to charge me with. I read through the first several pages about pleading
guilty, my rights, and all the time I had. Once I turned to the page with my charges I was
taken over by a stream of pain running down my spine. It said on the paper that they were
giving me a DUI, failure to cooperate with an officer, arson to a residential building, and
involuntary manslaughter. I was thinking to myself, why would they even want to charge
me with manslaughter. It was my best friend. I was shaken up enough. I couldn’t believe
this. I was so mad I wanted to punch the mailman in the face for giving it to me. My court
date was rushed because I was charged with several crimes and I only had four days until
my sentence. If I didn’t show up I would have a bench warrant and a mandatory two
years in the county prison. I was hit hard hearing this because Jaiden’s funeral was also
on that day. Court was at 9:30, and the funeral was at 11:30.
Four days passed and I had already gone to several of my relatives’ houses to say
my goodbyes just in case. I woke up at 7:30 A.M. I had all of my dress clothes sitting out
and ready to go. I hopped in the shower and got dressed and I was ready to go at 8:15.
Court was at 9:30 so I had some time. My mother made me a bowl of Fruity Pebbles
since I might not be eating Fruity Pebbles for a while in my future. I couldn’t even eat my
food I was so nervous. Thirty minutes passed and my mom and I went out and sat in the
car, both of us seemingly lifeless; not a word was said from our house to the courtroom. I
was in courtroom 3A. “The judge won’t be here until 10:30,” the lady at the desk
informed us, just have a seat and be patient.” I could not sit still. I was nervous. If I went
in and they sent me away, I wouldn’t be able to go to my best friend’s funeral. My lawyer
said if I got placed on house arrest I would be able to go, but that was the only way. We
were sitting in the waiting room for what felt like an eternity, but finally Judge Harris
showed up.
Me, my lawyer, and my mother entered the courtroom and we took our seats. “All
rise for the entrance of Judge Harris.” I gulped and it felt like I had just swallowed an
apple. I had never been in this kind of situation before. “Looks like you were at the
wrong place at the wrong time, Mr. Holmes,” said the judge. My lawyer stood in my
defense and talked with the judge to figure out some sort of agreement. I was surprised
that the judge was so nice. He said that charging me with manslaughter was very unfair.
Everything seemed to be going great until the arson charges were brought up. Even if I
didn’t intentionally do the crime, I still had to do the time for it. The arson I had
committed was a year prison sentence, plus the DUI added six months. This had turned
from what I thought was going to be a good outcome, to one of the worst days of my life.
If this had happened before I had turned eighteen, everything would be fine, because then
it would not be stuck on my permanent record. My mother began to cry. “I’m sorry this
had to happen, Evan,” said the judge. “Come this way.” They shackled me up and put me
on a van with bars over the windows. This was the start of my new life. My bet friend
was dead, I had no friends, my family was disappointed, and I was a wanted criminal
who was going to spend the next year and a half behind bars: all over a couple beers.
Matt Munin
Train Tracks
My name is Parker Bond, and my dad is in jail. We were about to be evicted from
our nice suburban home, so he went out doing everything he could for us. It’s not his
fault, anyway; his friend betrayed him, set him up, told him everything would be fine,
and all he had to do was stand there and watch the transaction. For the favor, he’d get just
enough money to save our house. It turns out his friend was working with the cops. My
mom, faced with a dire crisis, did what she usually did and drove to the liquor store.
But I’m done with all that bullshit. It’s always bullshit. Earlier today, my friends
whom I used to consider family ditched me in the city so they could get a ride. I guess
there weren’t enough seats in the car for everyone. Bullshit. So I call up my mom to try to
get a ride home. But she’s drunk and still on probation from her last DUI. Bullshit. My
phone died after that call, and I didn’t have any money. I had to rip off a taxi to get home.
I made sure not to thank him. He deserves to think I’m just some poorly raised
delinquent. Bullshit. My mom and I argued for a while, but she was too drunk to make
any sense. She just kept calling me a “mooch” and a “parasite.” I snapped. After putting
several holes in the walls of our apartment, I went to my room and started packing my
backpack.
I brought beef jerky, water bottles, toilet paper, lighters, cigarettes, and two
sweatshirts. It’s a three-mile walk from my house to the abandoned train tracks. I didn’t
waste any time.
I’ve been walking now for about a half-hour. These train tracks are amazing.
They’re completely secluded from the rest of the world, extramural of society. There are
only a few spots where you can get to the tracks easily. It is really a beautiful scene. It’s
one straight path that cuts through dense woods for miles. The tracks are hidden by
overgrown grass. Speaking of grass, I’m pretty sure there’s a group of kids smoking pot
up ahead. I’ll keep my distance, though. I didn’t come down here to get high and
socialize. I’ll cut through the woods and come out on the other side of them.
I’ve been gone for about two hours now. Nobody knows I’m gone yet, but they’ll
find out soon enough. My mom will think I’m at a friend’s house. My friends will think
I’m at my house or another friend’s house. Allison will just think I forgot to plug in my
phone. They’ll find out soon enough. Someone’s going to mention suicide and everyone
will probably jump on the bandwagon. They’ll call the cops, and it’s going to be a huge
deal. Allison won’t take it well if she thinks I killed myself. For all I know, she’ll go
Shakespeare and kill herself. She’s probably asleep now. My cell phone probably has
unread messages from her. Maybe she won’t believe the suicide thing. Maybe she’ll be
the one who denies it while everyone mourns. Maybe she’ll get so sick of all the bullshit,
she’ll run away. Or maybe she’ll just get over me and move on. For me, at least, that’s
the only choice.
The sun starts to rise, and I think it’s about time I try to sleep. It’s not until I lie
down that I realize the tracks aren’t as quiet as I had thought. I can still hear the low
rumble of interstates in the distance. Now that the sun is rising, the birds and insects are
starting to make a lot of noise. Sleeping is difficult, and I’m constantly drifting in and
out. It’s starting to get frustrating, so I just get up and keep walking. No sense trying to
sleep when I can’t.
I try to pass the time by thinking about stuff, but I usually get distracted and start
humming songs. After ten or so hours of walking the tracks, I decide that it’s about time
for a change of pace. I veer left into the adjacent woods and start wandering wherever I
see a path. There’s not much choice of where to go; I just follow the path with the fewest
branches in the way. I feel like an animal, relying on instinct alone to determine my path.
I’m not following any roads, sidewalks, alleys, nature trails, or even train tracks.
The world would be a very different place if people acted more like animals.
Everyone would be focused on his own survival. I imagine there would be steep
reduction in bullshit. Animals don’t care about emotions and money and relationships
and love. If a wild animal went off to explore some train tracks, it wouldn’t make a big
fuss about it. They wouldn’t call the cops or cry. Animal mothers don’t care for their
young out of love, but out of instinct. That means there’s no strings attached. If a child
dies, there’s no sadness. No matter what, everyone keeps on doing what it was meant to
do from the start. They don’t let bullshit get in the way.
I can only see woods in every direction. I’m pretty sure I know which way the
tracks are, but I could be disoriented. The sun is at the top of the sky, so it must be around
noon. I still haven’t really slept in two days. There’s a small pile of leaves that looks
quite comfortable, so I think I’ll try to get some sleep. It’s dark and quiet in these woods.
I put down my bag and crash in the pile of leaves. I have no trouble drifting off to sleep.
I’m back in my hometown, at the local park. It’s snowing on the ground. I walk
around and see a dog with her puppies. The animals look like they’re freezing. I yell at
the dog, “You need to eat or you’re going to die! You need to leave and find some food!”
The dog just sits there. I walk up to it. One of the little puppies tries to walk away from
the warmth of its mother, but the mother picks it up and puts it back. Her eyes close. I
turn around and see my ex-girlfriend and my elementary school principal making out.
My eyes open suddenly and quickly, which is unusual for me. I have to remember
where I am. The sun has set already, so I must have gotten a decent amount of sleep. I
still feel tired, so I don’t get up. I remember my dream really well, and I can’t stop
thinking about that mother dog. I bet if she left her puppies she could have found some
shelter or food. Why wouldn’t she just leave the puppies? She’s not attached to her
puppies emotionally, so why didn’t her instinct for survival take control? Sure it’s also in
her instinct to take care of the puppies, but she still has the option… Does she have the
option? What if her survival goes along with survival of the puppies? If that’s true, then
she was doing everything she could for her puppies.
I stand up and stretch. I still can’t stop thinking about the dog from my dream. It’s
mostly just a jumble of random ideas, but I can’t help but think that she did the right
thing by not leaving. I have to remind myself that dreams don’t mean anything.
My eyes go wide, and my breath stops. I can’t find my bag. The same bag that
had another week’s worth of food and water is not by my side. I get frantic. I start
digging up leaves in a futile attempt to unearth my lost lifeline. In my thrashing, I hear a
rustle that sounds out of place. Something is there. Something is watching me. I hear
another rustle. I turn around just in time to see a tall shadow move back into the darkness.
My instinct takes over, and I sprint after the shadow. I jump over logs, smash through
bushes, and endure many scrapes, scratches and bruises. I’m following the figure on
sound alone, but I still haven’t lost it. I hear a thud; the figure falls to the ground.
By the time I reach him, he’s screaming for me not to hurt him. I don’t. He gets
up and brushes himself off. I haven’t let my guard down. I can tell it’s a man, and by the
sound of his voice, he’s black. He’s short and reeks of filth. “Where the fuck is my
backpack?” I demand.
“Shit, man, I’ll give you your backpack, man, but just don’t hurt me.” He mutters
something intelligible, but I hear “white people” in there somewhere. I haven’t let my
guard down.
“Who are you?” My voice is not inquisitive. I’m pretending not to be extremely
confused.
“Wizard. Your bag’s back at the camp.” His voice sounds friendly now. “Psh,
you’re probably like, ‘what the fuck is this creeper doin’ in the middle of the woods?’” I
don’t disagree. He starts laughing. “Come on, boy, let’s go.”
Wizard starts walking in the same direction he was running. I don’t have a choice
but to follow him. He wants to chat. I don’t.
“I tell you what, man, I ain’t never thought I’d find someone else out here. First I
thought you was a dead deer or something. You’re lucky I didn’t throw a rock at you
first. So what, you runnin’ from the cops?”
“You could say that.” I hope he thinks I’m some dangerous criminal. He just
laughs.
“Well, I won’t tell no one you’re here, if you don’t tell no one I’m here. You’re
the first thing I’ve talked to that ain’t a tree or somethin’. Yo, what’s the date?”
“October 3rd, I think.”
“No shit! I’ve been out here almost a year. Man, that first winter was bad, but I’ll
be all right this time.”
I still haven’t let my guard down. We arrive at his “camp.” My eyes go wide as I
gaze upon Wizard’s little haven in the woods. The camp is bordered on all sides by thick
thorn-bushes. There’s a big fire pit in the center, next to a tent. Scattered around are
various piles of useless crap, the kinds of things you’d expect a guy named Wizard who
lives in the woods to have. Next to the tent is a large barrel full of water. There’s a log
next to the fire-pit to sit on. Wizard invites me to sit, and I ask for my bag. He grabs it
from inside the tent. I open it, and everything is still there except one of my lighters. I
don’t say anything about it. I sit down on the log, and Wizard makes a fire. He pours
some liquid, probably gasoline, on the logs already in the pit, and lights it with a match.
His whole camp is filled with dim light.
I can finally get a look at the man named Wizard. His face is scraggly and
unshaven, and his hair is long and matted. His teeth, however look white.
“So how do you like casa de Wizard?”
“It’s all right. You’ve been here for a year?”
“Just about. I’m kinda surprised I made it this long. I figured I’d be bear food by
now.”
My adrenaline starts to wear off, and I realize the surreality of the situation. I’m
sitting in the woodland camp of a skuzzy old black guy who stole my backpack while I
was sleeping in the woods. I’m almost waiting to wake up. In the meantime, I know
eventually I’m going to ask Wizard why he’s here. I figure I might as well get it over
with.
“So why’d you come down to the woods?” I ask it casually, as if it were
something everyone talks about. I’m sure the answer wouldn’t be so causal.
“You goin’ anywhere anytime soon?”
I shake my head no. Wizard starts his story immediately, and in thick slang. I try
to keep up, but it gets difficult at some points. Wizard grew up in the inner city. His dad
was an alcoholic, and his mom was usually at some other guy’s house. His mom went to
other guys because his dad drank, and his dad drank because his mom went to other guys.
Wizard dropped out of high school when he was sixteen, and started his career as an
“independent pharmacist.” He was locked up for three years after selling to an
undercover cop. After getting out, he decided to turn his life around, so he cheated his
way through community college and got a job, wife, son, and house. Things weren’t too
bad until his son started getting into trouble with the cops. First it was just a curfew
violation, but it became possession and shoplifting. His wife started getting on his case
about his not being a good role model. However, his son wanted nothing to do with him.
Any attempts to talk to the boy were met with anger and rebellion. Every now and then,
his wife would take his son to her mom’s house for a couple of days. Things were getting
heavy for Wizard, and they got worse when he lost his job. When his wife wasn’t yelling
at him, he was getting calls from every bank in the city. Wizard left for the woods the day
he got his eviction notice.
I don’t say anything, and neither does he. We both just sit there and stare at the
fire. I guess it’s been a long time since he’s thought about why he left. “So what do you
think they’re doing now?”
“If I cared, I would’ve stayed, man.” There’s an awkward silence.
“So nobody knows where you went?”
“Nope. They probably think I jumped off a bridge or something.” He cracks a
giddy smile. “So they’re not my problem anymore, so problem solved!”
“That’s a dick move, man. Things were bad, so you just abandoned them? So
your wife had to deal with your son, finding a job and feeding her family without you?”
Wizard cracks the same giddy smile. “Not my problem, problem solved!”
This strikes a nerve. “But the problem isn’t solved! You just left the problem!
Your wife and kid are probably living the shittiest life ever, and you think the problem’s
solved?”
Again, he cracks that toothy smile. “Boy, you got a lot to learn.” His voice trails
off and he stares at the fire some more. I hold my tongue for a minute. I want my next
point to sting.
“So it doesn’t bother you that the woman you married might be walking the
streets at night to feed herself and her son?” Wizard’s smile goes away. His head turns
slowly towards me, and he makes eye contact.
“Listen up, boy. You’re about to learn somethin’. Life is full of bullshit, from the
beginning to the end. It don’t matter who you are or who your daddy is. Most people let
that bullshit ruin their lives, and they die miserable assholes. So you got the choice: you
let the bullshit ruin your life, or you get the fuck out. Man, how do you think I’d be doing
right now if I stayed with them? I’d be working some bullshit job for some bullshit boss,
and my life would be shit. So I did something about it. I solved the problem.” I’ve just
about lost it. I start to giggle, and it turns into a full-out laugh.
“You, you think you’ve solved the problem? You’re just a little kid, man. You’re
acting like an immature little kid. I remember, this one kid from my old town, when we’d
play baseball, would always go home when we started to lose. You’re that kid. The other
team knocked in two runs to take the lead, so you just went home.” Neither of us says
anything for about a minute. I take the initiative.
“Which way are the tracks?”
“Man, you gonna come up in here calling me out, and you think I’m about to—“
“I said, where are the tracks?” I’m not feigning anything at this point. I’ve already
stood up and grabbed my backpack. Wizard just points his thick finger. I walk out, and I
don’t say goodbye.
My walk back is plagued with various thought-fragments of Wizard’s family. It’s
odd. He didn’t describe how they look at all, yet I have an idea in my mind. I can picture
her wearing some brightly colored uniform behind a cash register. I can imagine him
lying to his friends about why they can’t sleep over.
I know it won’t be long until I hit the tracks. I still don’t know which way I’m
going to turn. A right turn means I continue, and a left turn means I go home. Neither
seems like a good option right now. I can’t imagine making those same mistakes as
Wizard, but going home means I’m just a teenager crying for attention. Maybe I should
just flip a coin, since either way leads to more bullshit. It’s always bullshit. Wizard
showed me that. Bullshit is just unavoidable, and running away from it doesn’t make it
go away.
Patrick O’Hara
Short Story
Almost Summer
It’s disgusting, Groping hands and slewed eyes. They ensnare young girls hearts,
body’s, cheating them out of their wits, sense, and dignity. I don’t know why I come to
these places. The people, the food, it all sucks. Why spend every night wasted away, lost
in fake perception? When they wake up they will have no memories of this. All that will
be left is dead brain cells and a mess of past passions. It’s lame.
“Jewl? Jeeeeewwwwll... my gosh, I knew you were here.” There was Stacey
Lanbern, the girl that only knew me through math class.
“Me too.” I paid no attention to her reaction. She was just one of those girls that
knew everyone but didn’t know anyone. Besides, she was drunk.
“Oh, I just found out and was like, wow, I have to go talk to her.” She was
looking past my eyes, as if some halo shrouded my head. Then, just like that, the shitfaced pep-girl stumbled away from the couch.
“I have to go pee.”
Great conversation... That’s what these people live for. They intend to make their
nights more interesting by retarding themselves until their conversations allude to nothing
more than bodily functions. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Liza. She somehow
convinces me to come to these things to be more “social”.
There is something genuine about this, though, something not fabricated or
conceived, something not debated or questioned. These kids do not stop and observe the
world around them. They just live. Maybe that’s my flaw. Maybe this life isn’t worth
questioning. Maybe I should join the crowd, get a drink, and see what happens.
Spinoza’s my favorite. I can read him all day long while I can’t even spend a
wink on other philosophers. I put my philosophy book into my book bag.
The bell rang for the start of lunch. People poured out of the classrooms in pairs,
side-by-side, chatting on about the bleak existence of classroom study. Sometimes, like
right now, when I walk down the hall people say hello to me and go out of their way to
compliment me. I never talk to these people and I’m not very popular, so I don’t know
why they continue with these gestures. I mean, I believe myself to be cute, but it’s not
just boys who do this. My suspicion is that they’re just trying to get props from the smart
girl so that they themselves feel as if they share some knowledge with someone who is
relatively successful. I walk to lunch.
Chad and Liza were talking to each other.
“I’m always grounded on the days when I’m actually doing something.” She
noticed my presence as I passed by and looked up to great my smile.
“Your parents really suck”
“Uh… duh, I know, but what am I going to do? Even if I sneak out, I don’t have
the keys. I can’t drive.”
“So we’re all screwed?”
“Pretty much, unless someone else gets their license before Friday.”
“I can’t even back out of the driveway so…”
“I know, Chad… I know.” I returned with my lunch and sat next to Liza.
“Jewl can drive!” Chad had a clever, intuitive, expression as he thought he had
found the solution.
“Uh, no, she can’t. She doesn’t have a license.”
“She’s got a permit.”
“What are you children spittin’ about?”
Liza turned to me and spoke. “Chad wants you to drive to Greg’s tomorrow”.
“Chad wants me to drive?” As if I would ever even consider that.
Chad and I worked at the local Wawa. The shifts were bad, but the pay and
simplicity made it a worthwhile job. We were currently at lunch break. Chad was
snacking on McDonalds, as he refused to eat anything from Wawa.
“So guess what I was doing last night?”
I didn’t bother thinking about it; in fact, I never bothered thinking when talking to
Chad.
“What”
“I was watching episodes of Ninja Turtles online!”
“Incredible.”
“Remember Donatello! The one with the blue shorts!?”
“No.”
“Aw man, I’ll give you the website if you want. You can watch too.”
I looked up at the clock, five more minutes of hell, then two more hours of
purgatory.
“What’s the matter, Jewl?”
“Nothing, Chad.” I went back to the cash register. Charlie Denton, my lab partner
in chemistry, was first up in line.
“Hey, Jewl, what’s going on? How’s work?”
“Charlie! What are you up to?”
“I’m getting snacks for later tonight. You coming?”
“Oh, yeah, that thing, no, I can’t come.”
“Why not?”
Personally, I didn’t want. “We don’t have a ride.”
“What time are you done work?”
“Me and Chad are both done at seven.”
“Well, I could pick you both up if you want.”
Damn. I didn’t want this, but I saw Chad’s encouragement from the deli. “Yeah,
that would be great, but could you pick up Lisa too?”
“Sure”
“Great, I’ll see you at seven then.”
“All-righty, have fun at work.”
Drumbeats, giddy gestures, and charity cups filled with keg-pumped beer
intercepted us as we walked in. There were a lot of boys there; each seemed to be
directing their eyes at us if only for a fraction of a second. Quickly I slipped by with Liza
through the kitchen to the patio, avoiding attention from those kids who sat around the
foyer. It was warm outside, a nice May night with a refreshing breeze, one of those nights
where the stars captured eyes and the fireflies winked for attention. I stood back with
Lisa, leaning on the rusted wood reminiscent of that on the boardwalk, peeking at the
kids who floated around. Charlie Denton stood across the way and waved to me. I gave a
small giggle and a gesture back.
“So, what do you think?”
Honestly I wasn’t thinking about much. “Eh, I don’t know. It’s okay”
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic…”
I was uncomfortable. “I don’t know. It’s early and we just got here.”
“True, well, lets go mingle with the crowds.” She raised her cup in the air.
“Cheers!”
With a gasp, I took a sip of my cup which I so loosely gripped. This was the start
of the night. I told myself it was all for the better.
Smoke escaped through the windows and doors. Joints were being rolled and
shipped out through the house. Lisa already hooked up with two different people, and I
was on my sixth beer.
The kid stood in front of me, taking a step away from the crowd. I did not know
him, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
He touched me, with groping hands and slewed eyes, hoaxing my heart, but
invigorating my soul.
Adam Panichi
Big Paper
The Great Chase
As John sat at his office desk looking down at the contract, many things ran
through his mind. How can his life change? What can he do with his family? Is the pay
increase really worth it? The sweat runs down his forehead and drips off. He is filled with
anxiety and uneasiness. John takes the pen and taps it across his forehead a couple times
hard enough to make little red bumps, but not hard enough to break the skin. After a
couple of minutes, sitting there and looking at the contract, then his wife, the contract, his
wife. John looks down and lightly puts the pen to the paper and lets it glide across the
line asking for signature. After signing the contract and making it official, John looked
over to his wife, and a smile from ear to ear came over not only her but him. John got up
from the table, knowing that he had made the right decision, and all his fears left him as
the pen touched the paper.
John grabbed his wife’s arm as they left their new training facility. He looked
over to her and said, “This is going to be a big change; I hope you are willing to be along
for the ride.” She replied, “I would have it no other way.” John gallops over to his
brand- new Ferrari and grabs the door for his wife. That acclimates an already big smile
bigger. He slams the door shut and waltzes over to his door. He gets into the car, situates
himself, and turns the key. As the key turns and the engine starts, the car screams to a
loud idle. John presses his foot against the clutch and slams the car into reverse. After
reversing he does the same thing to put it into first gear.
Now on the street John lets the car unwind. He begins to rip through the gears,
going from first to second to third in a matter of seconds. While doing all this, John still
has to weave his way through the traffic. He looks over to his wife, whose smile has
disappeared, now to be replaced by a huge frown. John’s smile turns even bigger as he
exclaims to his wife, “This is why they pay me the big bucks, honey.”
His wife storms from the car after the shaky ride home and, John sits back and
wonders to himself how is he going to break the news to his children. Noticing his wife’s
hairpin on the front seat, he picks it up and puts it into his pocket. He likes to keep his
cars neat. John leisurely gets out of the Ferrari and walks into his house. To see his
children, sitting on the floor of the family room, watching the newest episode of
Spongebob Squarepants. He walks up to the T.V. and turns it off, and exclaims to his
children, “ We need to talk for a minute, kids.” John then goes into detail about how he
had signed a new contract an he will be playing professional football in Philadelphia and
explains all the things that will change. He informs them of how they will need to move,
they will have to change their school, and the worst thing for any little child, they will
need to make new friends. This news sets off his children. They begin to complain and
whine about how unfair it is to have to give up all their connections for their father. The
whole situation turns worse and escalates into an argument. After ten minutes of arguing
John instructs his kids to go to their rooms, saying, “ I am the father and the boss; I can
do whatever I want to.”
After the argument John is very upset and mad at himself. He decides he has to
get away and do something. He dedcides to go for a boat ride. He runs upstairs to inform
his wife of his plan for the afternoon to cool down. He enters the bedroom only to find
his wife lying in a puddle of blood. John’s reaction is too run to his wife and to see if
there is anything he can do. John takes her head and feels no pulse from her carotid
artery. At this point John’s 6-foot, 3-inch bodybuilder frame is huffing a mile a minute.
With each breath every muscle in his body begins to flex. He looks from the corner of his
eye and spies the murderer running out the window to the deck. John, at this point, has a
smirk on his face (knowing that this guy will pay for what he has done.)
John runs down the front steps of his house and out onto his deck. He still has the
man who has killed his wife in his sight. He sees the murderer jumping on the back of a
brand-new 42-foot Top Gun. After making a six-foot leap the murderer is on the boat; at
that point the driver slams the throttle into full gear. As that happens, the exhaust spit out
black smoke while the boat speeds away, making a screaming sound comparable to
nothing John had ever heard. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, John runs back inside
and grabs the keys to his boat. As he does so, his kids run down and start yelling for their
father. Knowing what had just happened, John decides it would be in the interest of his
children to come with him. He throws the life jackets their way and tells them they are
going for a boat ride and had better put the lifevests on very quickly. John hops onto the
boat and rips off the cover, the other boat still in sight but falling out quickly. He slides
the key into the ignition and turns it on. When the motor kicks on, the twin thousandhorsepower mercs are rumbling a mile a minute. John jams the throttle and feels the boat
take off.
Now the chase is on with the kids crying in the bolsters. John’s son, Adam, is
bleeding; the murderer had hit him on the head with a stick as he was running out. The
blood begins to stain the bolster where the Scarab insignia is located. Today the water is a
little bit choppy. The condition didn’t affect the murderers’ boat because they had a
double-step hull. Johns boat, on the other hand, was a single-step hull and it didn’t ride as
smoothly. With each wave he hit John had to let up on the throttle to make sure the
engines didn’t blow up; if so, he would really be out of luck. In a matter of seconds, as
they passed from the ocean into the bay, the chop went away. With the smooth-as-glass
water now in front of them John knew he could kick it up a notch. John whales the
throttle all the way up, and his boat shoots out as a rock from a slingshot would. The
forty-five foot Scarab at this point is moving at upwards of a hundred and thirty miles per
hour. Each second that goes by, John was making it that much closer to catching up to the
murderer. He looks back to his once crying kids and sees them cheering their father on
and singing, “Get him, Daddy; get him.” The look in their eyes is one of hope and
confidence.
As the chase heats up and the boat gets closer, John sees the murderer and the
driver pull into a marina and get off the boat. He follows behind them and pulls right into
the marina and to the dock, where he sees the gentlemen running away from him. He ties
his boat up and follows behind them, yelling at his kids to stay where they are. He
rummages through his pocket and pulls out hundred-dollar bills and throws them towards
the gas attendant, proceeding to tell him to keep an eye on his children. John sprints off
onto the main road and realizes that he might just be too late as the murderers are pulling
away in a brand- new Renntech Mercedes. With John’s keen knowledge of cars he knows
he would never be able to catch up to the race car. With a feeling of failure, his heart sank
to his stomach.
With a cloud of disappointment hanging over his head, he turns around to walk
back to his children, when he sees a brand-new Ferrari 430 Scuderrera. John, working off
his impulses, smashes in the driver’s side window and hops into the car in a split second.
He takes the hairpin he has in his pocket and jams it into the ignition. In a matter of
seconds the car comes to a screaming loud rumble. John rams the car into first gear and
slams on the gas pedal and speeds away. He follows the guys on pure instinct, and a path
through the sea of scared drivers opens before him. His face is all smiles at this point just
because the chance of catching the murderers is still there and he is driving his favorite
car.
As John speeds up to get onto the highway and follow behind them, he clips a
water barrier, and it looks as if a geyser of water has just exploded. He still keeps the
pedal to the metal and continues pushing. He reaches upwards of 175 miles an hour.
John, thinking he is in the best position he can be, hears a ding go off in the car and to his
surprise he notices that the low fuel light has come on. John, very nervous now, knows he
is going to have to come up with something fast, or else he will fall behind and lose them
for good. He will never be able to find the killer of his wife. This thought kills him inside,
but in a matter of seconds and completely based on impulse, he puts his foot on the clutch
and downshifts to fifth gear and just launches off the line. He reaches speeds of over 200
miles per hour.
With the speedometer climbing up the miles per hour like a squirrel up a tree, the
car begins to scream, and John thinks to himself, “This is how you are supposed to drive
a Ferrari.” After about two minutes of driving at this speed, weaving through traffic like a
police car in a high-speed chase, John sees the Mercedes ahead of him. The killers for
some reason slow down, becoming almost even with John. John looks over, hoping to see
the killer’s face, but the windows are tinted jet black. The passenger side window rolls
down and a face with a phantom mask pops out the window.
“I am the one who took your wife’s life,” the killer says.
“Why the hell would you do that? Who do you think you are?” John retorted.
“I am your worst nightmare, and I will not stop until your whole family is dead
and you agree not to come and play in Philadelphia.”
“ You will never be able to get to my children. I love them to much and I will
never let you near any of them.”
Oh my god, my kids, I have just left them with a complete stranger. That is
horrible, only a bad father would do something like that. That is not the father that I want
to be. At that moment john slams on the brakes and does a complete one-eighty, and
speeds back to his kids. John leaves the men behind and thinks to himself that his kids are
more important them getting revenge right now. He stops at a gas station on the way
home and puts in ten bucks worth of premium.
John drives all the way back to marina thinking to himself that he needs to change
his ways and become a better father. After driving for about another ten minutes he ends
up back at the marina and runs to find his kids. To his surprise they are still sitting in the
boat talking to each other with the gas attendant sitting, in a ratted old chair, right next to
them. The kids hop out of the boat and run towards their father. They begin to exclaim to
him how much love they have for him and how they never want to lose him.
John proceeds to grab his kids up and bring them back to the boat after their sprint
to give him a giant hug. John looks down at his children’s now smiling faces and
proclaims to them that they will be staying right here in San Francisco. John feels that it
would be unfair to take his kids away from the environment they have grown up in, and
move them somewhere completely different.
The family then hops back into the boat, and the key turns and the engines comes
to a screaming roar that shook the dock from left to right. John grabs his son Adam and
tells him to take them on home. Adam sat on Johns lap the whole way home with Adam
steering and John controlling the throttle. The whole way home the members left of the
family rode with a smile from ear to ear on, even though they all knew that their mother
was gone and it will never be the same. They all knew that what they had left is better
then having nothing left at all.
Basketball
The lights streamed over the court. It was midnight and Terrence was still playing
ball. He was playing on the court right around the block from his home in the Bronx. He
could hear a few gunshots ring off in the distance, followed by the noise of the police
sirens. He figured it was one of the many gangs that has been running his neighborhood
for his whole life. One of the gangs came by his house last night trying to get him to join
their gang, and in the meantime they stole food and other items from his house. He tried
as hard as he could not to let this bother him. All he tried to do was stay focused on his
basketball. He was the best player in New York. He knew if he could just avoid the gangs
for one more year, he could get a scholarship and go play at a top-notch division 1
school, or just go right to the NBA. Just as he was thinking about getting out of this place
and getting to college, he heard the gang coming towards the court. He knew it was them
because no one else was out this late at night. He went to get his bag and get out of there,
but he was too late. The gang came around the corner and pulled up next to him. They got
out of their car and walked up to Terrence.
“Where you going, Terrence?” one of the gang members asked Terrence.
Terrence tried to ignore them and walk away, but they blocked his path.
“You trying to ignore us?”
“Just get the hell out of my way.” Terrence pushed one of the gang members out
his way, and began to walk faster.
“You messed with the wrong people, Terrence. We know where you live. We’ll
be seeing you again soon.”
Terrence ignored them and kept walking home. Terrence didn’t have much of a
home. He had two brothers and a sister, all-living with only their mom in a two-room
apartment. They barely made it by. His mom worked three jobs just to be able to get the
basic needs for them to live on. His only ticket out of this place was basketball.
He unlocked the door to his apartment, and walked in. As soon as he closed the
door, he locked all three of the locks on the inside. All of the lights were turned off. He
set his gym bag down and got a Cup-O-Noodles out of the cabinet. He basically lived off
of microwavable foods. His mom had heard him come in and came out to talk to him.
“You know it’s 12:30, and you can’t afford to be late for school again. Another
lateness and you get suspended.” she said.
“I know, Mom, but if I want to get to the NBA, I have to practice my game.”
“About your basketball, two more coaches called today. I think it was Kansas and
Memphis. They both said that if you decide to go to one of them, they would give you a
full scholarship. What school do you want to go to, Terrence?”
“I don’t know yet, Mom. I have to think about it more--“
“Well, you are running out of time to choose. You only have one month of high
school left.” His mom said interrupting Terrence.
“Just get off of my case, Mom. When I am ready to make a decision I will tell
you. Now just leave me alone.”
“Is something bothering you, Terrence?”
“No, Mom, everything is fine. Now just leave me alone for a little while.”
“I do so much for you, Terrence, and you still treat me like crap. You could go far
with your basketball; you just have to stay productive in school and not get distracted.
You may not see it, but basketball is your only ticket out of here.”
“How would you have me stay focused when there are gangs and drug dealers
running our neighborhood? The same ones that came to our apartment found me again
tonight. They said that they would be visiting me again soon.”
“All I’m saying is that you need to graduate high school and choose your college
soon, and don’t get mixed up in all this gang stuff. It will ruin your life if you do.” With
that his mom left him alone in the kitchen.
The next day Terrence attended school. All day he only thought about what
college he would want to attend next year, or if he wanted to go straight to the NBA. He
had his choices narrowed down to Memphis and Kansas. Both schools suited his needs.
They were both far away from where he was now, they were both offering him full
scholarships, and they would both give him full starting time on the basketball court. He
made it through the day with no trouble and his college choice still undecided. He wanted
to consult his best friend, Jamal, before making his choice. Terrence figured he would see
Jamal at the courts after school. After school he headed down to the court. The usual
people were there, including the normal team that he plays with. Terrence’s team
basically never loses. People try and put teams together from all over the city, in order to
beat him and his team. Even some professionals have come down to take on his team. As
Terrence sat down, he realized that his best friend and long time teammate, Jamal, wasn’t
there.
“Yo, Walter, where is Jamal at?” Terrence asked another one of his teammates
and friend.
“I don’t know. He hasn’t been down here all day,” Walter replied.
“Well, if he doesn’t get down here soon, we are going to have play with a man
down, or pick someone else up. Give him a ring and see if he answers,” Terrence told
Walter.
“Terrence, Jamal didn’t answer his phone.”
“Something isn’t right. Jamal never misses our games, and if he does, he
would’ve called someone.”
“Well, we got a game to play, Terrence, so we can’t do nothing about it now.”
“Screw the game. I’m going to take a run over to his house to find out where he
is. I’ll be back in a little.” With that Terrence left the court and began making his way
towards Jamal’s house.
As Terrence turned the corner on Jamal’s street, he could see that there were a
few cops parked in front of his house. Terrence made his way up the front steps of
Jamal’s house and knocked on the door. A police officer came and answered. Terrence
could hear Jamal’s parents crying in the back. The police officer knew who Terrence was
right away.
“Look, Terrence, why don’t you take a step down here with me.” The cop closed
the door and walked down the front steps with Terrence.
“What happened?” Terrence asked the police officer.
“It appears your friend Jamal was involved in some gang business, and it caught
up with him. He was shot by a rival gang member today and died instantly. Any
information you have on Jamal’s gang involvements could help us greatly in the
investigation.”
Terrence just stood there and didn’t say anything. What could he say? His best
friend and teammate was dead. Terrence didn’t say one word to the cop. He just walked
away and began making his way back to the courts.
Terrence got back to the courts and went and sat on the bleachers. He didn’t say a
word to anyone.
“Terrence, where is Jamal? What did you find at his house?” Walter asked.
Terrence stared at him blankly for a few moments before he finally said, “He’s
dead, Walter. He got shot by a rival gang.”
No one said anything back. Everyone just stood there and didn’t know what to
say. They all knew that Terrence and Jamal were best friends and that they were
considering going to the same college to play together.
Finally, Walter asked, “Terrence are you ready to play. We still got a game today?
We can’t lose this one, either.”
“Are you serious, Walter? Our friend and teammate died today, and all you care
about is playing this dumb game,” Terrence responded.
“Look, it’s sad that he died, but there was nothing you could’ve done. We can’t
just sit here and cry for the rest of our lives. Now get up. We got a game to play.
Basketball is the only thing that will take your mind off what happened today.”
“All right lets play,” Terrence said and got up.
The whole game Terrence didn’t think about what happened. Walter was right,
basketball was the only thing that could take the bad things off of Terrence’s mind.
Terrence reminded himself that this still didn’t take away what happened to Jamal.
After the game was over, Terrence stayed at the courts. He knew who killed
Jamal; it was the gang that had dropped by the courts the other night. He had seen Jamal
fighting with them before. Terrence couldn’t let them get away with it. Terrence went
home and grabbed his gun from his drawer. Terrence had never had any other us for this
gun other than to protect his family. This was the only time he ever planned to use it
without defending himself. Terrence hurried back to the court. Terrence knew even if he
turned in the gang that killed Jamal, they would probably get away with it because there
was no proof that they did it. Terrence thought about his uncle. His uncle was sentenced
to life in prison for murdering a rival gang member.
Terrence’s thoughts were interrupted by the yells of a group of people coming
down the street. It was the gang that was here the other night, the ones that killed Jamal.
Terrence quickly tucked his 9mm handgun into his waistband and stood up.
The gang noticed Terrence and began to walk towards him. When the gang got to
him there was complete silence between them.
One of the gang members finally said, “It’s a shame your friend Jamal had to get
in the way of our deal. Everything was going fine, until he showed up and screwed
everything up. If he didn’t run his mouth so much, he might still be alive--” Terrence
dropped him mid sentence with a right hook. He quickly pulled out his gun and pointed it
right at one of their heads. They all quickly backed up and tried to tell him to put it away.
“You should have thought about it before you killed Jamal,” Terrence told them.
One of them tried to talk, but Terrence told him to shut up. Suddenly, one of the
gang members rushed Terrence.
A shot rang out and the gang member dropped to the ground.
Terrence couldn’t believe what he had done; he didn’t think that he had pulled the
trigger. He began running. He heard more gunshots fire behind him, but they weren’t
coming in his direction. Terrence looked over his shoulder and could see someone he
thought was Walter lying on the ground trying to get up. There were also two gang
members who were lying completely still. Terrence checked his gun. Not a shot had been
fired from it.
Terrence ran over to Walter’s side. Walter had been shot twice and was seriously
wounded. Terrence began yelling for help. No one was around to help him.
“Stop yelling,” Walter told him.
“Walter what were you doing here? I meant to handle this on my own.”
“I saw them coming this way, so I went and got my gun. I knew you would need
some back-up.”
“I got to get you to a hospital. I’m going to help you get up.”
Terrence attempted to help Walter get up, but the pain was too much.
“Just leave me here and go and get some help.” Walter ordered Terrence.
Terrence ran back past the courts and onto Jefferson Avenue, where he knew
there was a telephone booth. Terrence called 911, and the operator told him that someone
would be there shortly. By the time Terrence got back to Walter he was dead. Terrence
couldn’t take the sight of his second friend who had died today. Terrence headed home.
Terrence got to his apartment and realized he left his bag out at the courts. He
couldn’t unlock the door to his apartment because his keys were in that bag. He sat down
in the hallway and began to cry. In one day he lost both of his best friends and hadn’t
done anything about it. Terrence could here noises from downstairs. Terrence looked
down the stairs and saw three police officers coming up the stairs. Terrence figured they
were just coming up to question him, but what happened next really took him by surprise.
“We are going to have to take you into custody for questioning about a shooting
that occurred tonight,” said one of the officers.
Terrence didn’t question the officer. They handcuffed Terrence and took him off
to jail for questioning. They told Terrence he would only have to spend the night. Once
Terrence got into his cell he realized that he can’t go to college. He realized that he has to
go right to the NBA and sign a huge contract, so he can get his family out of this place.
In the end, Terrence made it out of the Bronx. He was drafted first overall by the
Philadelphia 76ers, and signed a huge contract. He used a lot of his first year’s money to
buy a house for his mom and siblings outside Philadelphia. He also paid for each of his
brothers and sisters to go to a private high school, where they could get the best
education.
Jim Resnick
Short Story
Family Cuts
I was about five years old when my father ran out on my mother and me. My
father had caught my mother cheating and was just fed up with her, so one day he just got
up and left. Although it seemed out of the blue for me, my mother, Mariel, seemed to be
expecting it. What I did not know is that they had been fighting over me for a long time.
My father did not want to deal with me and very rarely helped out in raising me. My
mother would never tell me anything that was going on, because like any mother, she did
not want me to blame myself. Like any other kid, my immediate reaction when I realized
what was going on was to kind of give up. I only had one older brother and just looked to
him for help. Our only source of income at the time was my mother who was a barber at a
local shop. I was about twelve years old when it really hit me that I did not have a dad. At
that point I had four younger siblings and one older brother who had just turned eighteen.
We were struggling to keep our family together. So that brings me to where I am now, a
twelve-year-old boy trying to help raise a family.
My mom came home from work last Friday crying hysterically. My brother and I
had no idea what was going on and immediately asked. That is when she responded with,
“Them assholes down at the shop fired me.” When we asked her why, she quickly
snapped back with, “Because they are inconsiderate jerks. They don’t care about me and
what I want.”
So my brother and I, both wrapped up in our emotions, ran down to the shop to
see what was going on. When we walked in we were immediately met by the manager.
“Why did you fire our mother?” we both screamed almost simultaneously. The manager
then told us the full story of why he fired her. He told us that she did not show up for over
a week straight and when she finally showed up she tried to take everyone’s business.
Any time any customer walked in, she immediately grabbed her and tried to cut her hair.
We explained to the manager that we needed the money, and we promised she would
work harder. He just walked away, caring very little about what we had to say. It was at
that point that we realized that there was nothing we could do about it. My mother was
jobless and we had to find a new source of income.
So about a week went by and my mother still has not gotten off of her Lay-Z-Boy.
I am waiting for the bus with my brother Tyrone when I see a random middle aged man
walked up to him very cautiously. “Do you got the stuff?” the man asked my brother.
Tyrone then handed him a small bag that consisted of some kind of green stuff. It was at
that point that I realized my brother was a drug dealer. When I saw this deal go down I
immediately ran inside screaming to my mother. When I asked my mother if she knew
about this she responded saying, “Yeah, we need money wherever we can possibly get
it.” My mother has completely lost her mind. I tried to explain to her that drug dealers are
killed every day. She did not seem to understand how dangerous the drug dealer lifestyle
really is.
After about three months of steady income via drug dealing, another disaster hit
my family. My mother received a phone call from the Miami Police Department. They
had just picked up Tyrone. He had been set up by one of his closest friends and tried to
deal to an undercover police officer. His friend told him that there was this guy who was
interested in buying anything he could get. My brother should have known right there
that it was some sort of set up, but Tyrone just ignored that and all he thought about was
the money in his hand. He walked up to the cop, handed him the bag, and just walked
away. When he was two blocks up the street he thought he was free, until a police car
came flying around the corner with a cop screaming out the window, “Get down on the
ground!” Tyrone’s immediate reaction was to run, and run he did. He full out sprinted for
about a mile with cop cars following him the whole way. Then out of no where one of the
cop cars released a tazer which instantly stunned Tyrone. It was all over; he dropped
straight to the ground and was temporarily paralyzed.
When my mother received the phone call, she dropped straight down to her knees
and tears ran down her face. “Why? Why? Why? Why do you have to keep doing these
things to us, God? Is this hell? Why must we suffer? Please just let us be!” My mother
cried for almost about an hour straight until she finally got up and said, “We need to do
something big. Something needs to happen in this family.” My brother was, of course,
stuck in jail because we had no money to bail him and we had no idea how we would
afford a lawyer. My brother was in big time trouble and all because my mother just
wanted money.
It was at that point that I realized I was the man of the house. I now had to do
something to support my family. At twelve years old it was my time to take over. I had
seen so many movies about this, so I figured it could not possibly be that hard. I went
right out to all the restaurants in our area and filled out job applications. After being shut
down by all the jobs I now I realized that I have to find something on my own. What is
one thing I love to do? I then realize that I love to cut and style hair. I have always loved
cutting hair, but was always afraid to come out and say something, because I feared that
all of my friends would call me gay or a homo. I never really had the chance to practice.
It was always my dream to become a hair stylist, and at this point I really do not care
what people think about me. All I and the rest of my family knew is that we need money
and we need it as soon as possible.
So I start practicing on all of my siblings and because they were all under ten
none of them cared about their appearance. I was so nervous as my little brother sat
down. I felt as if I was standing on the sideline of the Super Bowl waiting for my chance
to make an appearance. It was like no feeling I ever had in my entire life. I knew that if I
was not good I was going to have to look for another profession, but this is all I wanted to
do. Cutting hair is my natural calling. I have never wanted to do anything so much in my
entire life until now.
When I cut my first snip of hair it was like heaven had given me a calling. I know
it sounds kind of weird, but it was just the best feeling in the world to cut that hair. By the
time I was finished my first haircut I realized that I could actually do this. My brother’s
hair was perfectly executed and shaped up in only five minutes. This was incredible. My
dream could actually finally become a reality. If I could do this for a living it would be a
real dream come true. I finished each of my family members, one after another, girl and
guy. After they were all finished my mom looked at me completely astonished. “Where
did you learn to do this?” she asked.
“I guess it is just a natural gift. Either you have it or you don’t,” I told her. I then
realized that I definitely want to do this and I will do whatever it takes to make it a
successful business.
So I start to running my business in my very own living room. Business is tough
and I have not had a customer since I cut my brother’s hair. This is not what I expected it
to be like in any way. That’s when I am playing basketball with my friends and offered to
cut their hair for them. They all looked at me as if I had just had a monster pop out of my
head, but I just kept talking about my haircuts and ignored any looks they gave me. Then
out of nowhere my friend Sean says, “Yeah sure, I’ll give you a chance to prove
yourself.” Sean has always been the conservative kid who would never try anything new
and rarely even got a hair cut. I couldn’t believe he was going to let me cut his hair.
I hesitated then responded with, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah why not?” Sean said.
“Well, I don’t know. I just thought, maybe, you were joking,” I said still stuttering
and shocked that anyone would ever want to do business with me.
“How much do you charge?’
Wow, money. I was actually going to make a profit off of cutting hair. “I don’t
know, five dollars?’
“Okay, sounds good. I’ll be over your house at seven.”
When I was walking home from the courts I could not stop smiling. I just could
not believe I was going to make a profit for doing something I love to do. When Sean
arrived at my house I showed him to my work station and went to work. When it was all
set and done, Sean stood up and said, “Wow, this is better than my real barber’s cut!”
This was one of the most satisfying moments of my life, and a moment that I will
never forget. I grabbed my little brothers and told them to go tell people about my
haircuts. I personally made signs and put them all around the town. I was doing anything
I could to try to gain some business. Before I knew it people were lining up outside of my
house waiting for their haircuts. The only problem was, most of them could only afford to
give me a dollar or two for the cut. This was not going to help my family enough to eat
and live.
As I was walking, putting up more flyers around town, a man in a shirt and tie
approached me. Not knowing what was going on, I said, “Can I help you?”
“Actually, I am here to help you,” the man responded.
“What? How are you going to help me?”
“I am the head of my business which finds small businesses and tries to make
them bigger,” he told me.
“Are you lost? Do you need directions to a business or something?’
“No, I am not lost. Actually, I have found my destination. Are you Jamal?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Well, I want to try to make your hair cutting business something official. I
believe that you have the kind of determination that you need to make it big. How does
that sound?’
I was speechless until I mumbled out, “Thank you, sir. You might have saved my
family.”
“Good, well, I just need to see you cut, then I can get you off and going.”
I brought him to my so-called shop, where he met my family. Then I went to work
on my next-door neighbor. After only doing one haircut he told me that was all he needed
to see. He told me that he knew right away that there was big money in my future and if I
keep it up, the sky’s the limit for what I can do. He then tells me to come up to his shop
the next week so we could discuss a business deal.
So that Monday I went up to his business in Miami and it was like nothing I had
ever seen before. They had a water fountain in the front yard and a chandelier as soon as
you walk in. I just stopped as soon as I stepped foot in the building. I could not help but
just sit and stare at some of the things they had there. Then, as I took a step a secretary
asked me if I wanted anything to drink. This was the first time anyone has ever asked me
if I wanted something. My immediate reaction was to say no because I thought that it
would cost something. So finally I just told her I was here because I was going to start a
hair-cutting business. She brought me right up to his office where he was sitting, smiling,
in his huge wooden desk. When I walked in and sat down he handed me a contract. “I’m
not much of a talker. I usually really like to get down to business right away,” he told me.
“Yeah, me neither,” I responded nervously.
“So here’s the basic idea of the contract. You sign it and it allows me to get your
business up and going. You will be given 100,000 dollars just for allowing us to do this.
After that you will receive any profit you make at the business. How does that sound?’
“Th..Th..Thank you, sir. I can’t believe this is actually happening. This is more
than I could ever dream about.”
“No, son, thank you.”
So I walked out wondering if it was all real. I was just waiting for my alarm to go
off and me to move on with my regular, crappy life. As weird as it may sound I actually
pinched myself multiple times, trying to wake up before I got too into the dream. Luckily
I never woke up. It was all real and it was all great. I walked back into my house with a
huge smile on my face. My mother approached me, “Well, how’d it go?’
“How does 100,000 dollars sound just for signing the contract?” I asked her. She
fainted right on the spot. It looked like a corny movie, but it actually was real. This was
easily the greatest thing to ever happen to my family. We were going to make it. We were
going to be ok. This was the greatest feeling in the world.
I now own my own chain of barbershops called “Family Cuts”. I own four stores
in the state of Florida and currently am next-door neighbors with dolphins great, Dan
Marino. All of my siblings are making it well in school. As for my brother Tyrone, he
refused to move with us because he claimed he did not want to live off of his little
brother. Unfortunately the week he came out of jail he was shot and killed in a drive by
shooting. Money? Well let’s just say that will never be a problem again.
Marissa Sharpless
Changing
“Ahh, not again!” I yelled with frustration.
The car over-heated and we were now stuck on the side of the road in the middle
of nowhere. I could see Danny, my best friend and passenger, just as frustrated. But he
was used to it by now. We’d been friends since we were in diapers and we always would
be. Whenever we would go out, I’d drive my old pick up because he lost his license
before he even got it. This was a usual diversion on a long trip in the truck. I would get
out of the truck to pop the hood to see if I could do anything to get it up and running
since we had our New Year’s party in an hour. Smoke was rolling out from the engine
and it hit me in the face. The sun was setting and it was becoming darker. I looked briefly
up the road to see nothing, then back down the road to see nothing again. I got back into
the truck.
“Is there anything we can do?” asked Danny.
“No, I think she is done for good now,” I responded, kind of upset that we would
be out of a car.
“Damn, what are we going to do?” I sat there thinking of what we were going to
do; neither one of us had a cell phone and it was almost dark; we were not about to go
hitch-hiking. The best friends and party people we were grabbed my zipped-up gym bag
from the bed of the truck and got ourselves two paper cups of champagne.
“Let’s cheer to many more years of our crazy adventures together!” Danny
screamed with a following, “Wohoo!”
We sat there in the truck, drinking champagne and eating the rest of our bucket of
friend chicken from KFC. We had always made the best time of a bad situation. Danny
was like the brother I never had, not just my best friend, my brother; he was family to me.
As we sat in the truck together we talked about everything and anything we could think
of. As we saw fireworks in the distance we knew it was the New Year. I found the receipt
from KFC and we wrote down our New Year Resolution’s. My resolution was “to do
well in college.” Danny’s resolution was “to live life to the fullest,” a typical response
Danny would say to anyone about anything. We stayed up all night and when the sun
came up we saw a police car coming up the road. I ripped my toothbrush and toothpaste
from my bag and started to brush my teeth without water. I thought to myself what a bad
idea this was as the officer came to the window.
“What a great way to start our New Year,” Danny said with a sigh of “here it goes
again.”
“We got arrested together again,” I said as I looked over at Danny who was
lounging on the uncomfortable seating.
“Yeah, like the saying says, ‘Your best friend will be sitting next to you after all
the fun is over,’” Danny said with a chuckle.
I thought to myself what my parents would say about Danny and I getting arrested
again. My parents were always expecting me to be great at everything and be the all
American son. Instead, I had Danny who can talk me into doing anything with a little
convincing. The cop who arrested us earlier in the morning came to our cell.
“Let’s go boys,” she said with no expression on her face.
We both got up and walked down the long hallway to where my parents were and
Danny’s mother. My parents looked very disappointed and Mrs. Jenkins, Danny’s
mother, stood there with a half smile on her face.
Ever since Mr. Jenkins died, she didn’t care what Danny did; as long as he was
okay she was okay. My parents had such a look on their faces that I would rather be dead
than listen to them for the next month. When we finally met them at the end of the
hallway, Mrs. Jenkins hugged Danny, then came to me and gave me a hug too.
“You boys need to get hobbies, something constructive,” Mrs. Jenkins said in a
joking tone.
“It is good to see you again, but I wish it wasn’t here,” my mother said as she
hugged Danny’s mom.
“Yes, it was good to see you but we better be going,” my father said lightly,
pushing my mother before him out of the double steel doors.
I followed behind them, not too close but not far away. It was the walk of shame
leading to hell. I hated whenever I would get these talks about how I needed to grow up
and get my life together. It was the same thing every time. I got into the back of my dads
freshly washed and waxed Cadillac. My father had money and he was proud of it. As his
son I had great expectations to live up to, but they were never me.
“So, what do you have to say about yourself now?” my father said in his
degrading tone.
“Nothing, I guess,” I said shortly.
“Steven, I don’t understand why you keep getting in trouble like this?” my mother
said in a caring voice that sounded like she was about to cry.
My mother was a very soft-spoken woman who always saw the best in people and
not the worst. She was the calm and collected one who never yelled. Whenever I would
get in trouble, she defended me. I had been the momma’s boy growing up. It didn’t
bother me because every one of my friends who met her understood.
“He is never going to get anywhere in life if he keeps this shit up.” My father’s
voice was like nails on a chalkboard to me.
“Don’t say that, Peter; he is just growing up and going through his rebellious
stage,” my mother’s sweet voice said, almost calming.
“He has been going through this stage for almost three years now!” my father
said, yelling as he was looking in the rear view mirror at me.
We never had a good father-son relationship. He was always hard on me about
everything. I could get a one hundred percent on a test and he would find something
wrong with it. When I realized that I was never good enough for him, I started to push
myself away from him. I looked at his success and money as a great accomplishment and
something I envied, but his poor characteristics over-powered the things I wanted. He
was a jerk and used people to get what he wanted. If it wasn’t his way, it was the
highway. He was a very demanding person. It made it harder to live with him.
“Are you going to say anything, Steven?!” he said, yelling again like I couldn’t
hear him.
“What do you want me to say? I’m never going to be like you!” I was yelling
back not caring what I was saying.
“This conversation is over. Peter, he knows what he did was wrong. Just leave
him alone,” my mother said in a sweet tone. My father never stood up to my mother, no
matter what. He took what she said and ended the conversation.
A couple of months went by without Danny and I getting in trouble. It was a
record for us, until Danny came up with a plan. Like always, it seemed good at the time,
but we both knew it was most likely going to end badly.
“I can’t believe we already have warm weather!” Danny said as he was hanging
out of the passenger side window of my mother’s Mercedes. We decided to go to my
beach house to sit back and relax. We were surprised that my mother let us take her car.
She is the only person I know who trusted Danny and me together. She also gave us the
key to the beach house. My father would never trust Danny and me in my mother’s
Mercedes or in the beach house alone.
“I know. It’s great,” I said, letting the warm salt-water air hit me in my face.
We were almost to my beach house at the very tip of California. Danny and I
were mapping out what we were going to do first. We were going to go to the beach to
surf and later on throw a party since we had made friends with locals over the years.
“How about we invite that girl Sarah and her friends to the party tonight?” Danny
said with a grin on his face. He had always had a crush on her, and she never gave him
the time of day.
“Yeah, that sounds good. Maybe she’ll finally talk to you,” I said, making fun of
him and his puppy love for a girl who has never talked to him.
“Whatever, man, she is hot,” Danny said, laughing and smiling an ear-to-ear
smile.
When we arrived at the house, we jumped out of the car into perfect sunny, warm
weather. You could see the excitement on our faces because this was exactly what we
needed. We got into our bathing suits and went surfing for a few hours. When we got out
of the water, we ran into Sarah, the girl we were talking about on the car ride here.
“Hey, Sarah, what’s up?” Danny tried to be smooth, but wasn’t at all.
“Hi, Danny,” she said kind of shortly and harshly.
“Sarah, what’s up?” I said, still laughing at Danny and his pathetic attempt while
giving her a little hug.
“Hey, Steven! How have you been? I haven’t seen you since last summer.” Sarah
seemed happy to talk to me and seemed to ignore Danny. It was a shame because Danny
really liked her and he just wanted her to give him the time of day.
“I’m good. I know it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you. How about tonight we get
together and have a little party; you can bring some of your friends”. I was always so
much better with the girls than Danny would ever be.
“Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll come by around nine.” She turned and walked away
without looking back. She was the type of girl who teased guys, like Danny. She knew
she was good looking and she made guys drool over her. I was never into her like that. I
had known her for a long time and she was a good friend to me, but nothing more.
Later that night, Danny and I were sitting in the living room, waiting for everyone
to show up. Danny and I were tired so we sat in silence. I noticed that Danny was in his
usual attire, a plain t-shirt, khaki shorts, thong flip-flops, and his baseball cap that his
father had given him. He was a really laid back person and I envied that about him.
Growing up in my household, I was more scheduled and early for everything. I decided
to wear my usual outfit of a collared t-shirt, plaid shorts and perfectly white shoes. The
doorbell rang and we jumped up to race to the door. The party was about to start.
Sarah had invited a lot of people. The majority of them were girls, so I didn’t
care. We all went out back and started a fire. Danny and I had put it together with rocks
we had found early before the party. Sarah was walking towards me with a blond haired
girl at her side. She was a very good-looking girl and I liked blondes.
“Hey, Steven, what’s up?” Sarah smiled and giggled.
“Nothing really, enjoying yourself?” I said to play it cool around this beautiful
girl.
“Yeah, of course I am. Hey, this is my friend Lauren.” Sarah smiled and walked
away. I watched her walk away to see where she was going and I couldn’t believe she
ended up by Danny’s side.
“Hey, I’m Katie. Nice to meet you,” she said, with a perfectly white smile while
holding out her hand.
“Hey, I’m Steven. It’s nice to meet you too” I tried to play it cool around her, but
I couldn’t. She was beautiful and I felt sweat start to form at the top of my forehead. I
held out my hand and it met with hers. She had a little grip on my hand, which was cute.
It actually made me say aww in my head. I actually didn’t know what to do around a girl.
I was always the smooth one and I didn’t know what to do. She was different than any
other girl I have ever met before.
“So, is Sarah interested in my friend Danny or no?” I became very nervous and
was trying to think of something to talk about without embarrassing myself or sounding
stupid.
“I actually think she is.” She had a cute laugh; “She only acts like that when she is
around a guy she likes.” She turned her head in the direction of them, and her scent was
breathtaking.
“Are you shy?” Katie said while slowly losing her smile,
“No, not usually,” I said without realizing how terribly that came out.
“Oh, really.” She had lost her smile and I didn’t know what to do.
Later that night after mingling around with the other people at my house, I began
to think about Katie and our awkward conversation earlier that night. I hadn’t seen or
talked to Danny all night. He was all over Sarah and she seemed to like it. It was weird to
be on the other side of things for a change. Danny was usually the one awkwardly
walking around a party because he wasn’t smooth with the girls. I was usually the one
with girls flocked around me with no trouble at all. Everything was backward and I didn’t
like it. I was upset about this; I was mostly upset about Katie. I couldn’t get her off my
mind and everything went back to her. I started to look for her to make things right, but I
couldn’t find her.
The next morning Danny and I cleaned up the house and backyard then headed
home. We were still in school for a few more weeks and my parents hated when I missed
school. We didn’t really talk much when we were cleaning up because we had woken up
around four in the afternoon and we were in a time crunch.
In the car on the way home Danny talked about Sarah a majority of the time. I
was glad that she had finally given him a chance, but I was mad because I blew my
chances with Katie.
“What happened with Katie and you last night? I didn’t see either of you much.”
Danny tried to seem interested but I knew he didn’t really care.
“I don’t know I kind of blew it.” I didn’t really want to talk about it. I tried to
brush it off, but of course Danny wanted to know what had happened.
“You blew it with a girl?” Danny seemed as shocked as I was last night.
“Yeah, she was different. I got nervous around her and didn’t know what to say or
do.” It frustrated me to look back on it. I should’ve put some moves on her like I did with
every other girl.
“Really? Well, we should come back when we get out of school in a few weeks so
you can try again and I can see Sarah.” Danny always made the best of a situation even if
it was a bad one,
“Yeah, maybe we will.” I didn’t know about that because it was going to be weird
trying to talk to her again.
A few weeks had past and Danny got the idea in my head to go back to the beach
house. At first I wasn’t into the idea, but Danny being Danny talked me into it. In a few
days we would be in the car again and I would be the not so smooth talker. I hated the
idea and I was hesitant to even think about getting into the car.
The weekend came. Danny and I got into my mom’s Mercedes, and we hit the
road. I was nervous and he could tell. Danny and I knew each other very well; we were
brothers.
“Steven, I’ve never seen you like this before.” Danny knew I was thinking about
her.
“I know. She is different from any other girl I have ever met before.” A little
smile came to my face.
“Well, then do something about it. If you wait too long, she isn’t going to be
waiting around for you.” Danny looked serious and I didn’t know where he was going
with it.
“What do you mean, Danny?” I was nervous to hear what he had to say.
“You know and I know you know she is the one for you…” Danny trailed off and
left me hanging.
“And…?” I couldn’t wait to hear what he had to say because it was probably
something outrageous and stupid.
“Ask her to marry you.” Danny said it like it wasn’t a big deal and a life changing
thing.
“Danny! I’m eighteen years old about to graduate from high school!” I started to
yell and lose my mind. How could he even think I would do something like that. I was
the responsible one and he was the irresponsible one. That is something he would do and
regret it later.
“Whatever, man, I mean when you look back on this you’ll probably regret it.
I’ve never seen you like this with any other girl.” Danny never pushed me to do things.
He just gave me really bad advice that I usually listened to; for some reason I thought he
was right about this. I had never done anything spontaneous like this before. Danny was
the one who made mistakes and I kept his secrets. I knew he would do the same for me,
but my parents would freak out when I told them what I had done. Yet again, it wasn’t
anything that bad. I would be getting married, not sentenced to ten years in jail.
We sat in silence for the majority of the car ride and we passed a shopping center
that was on the way to my house. I knew there was a jewelry store in there, and before I
could even think twice, I pulled the car into the parking lot.
“What are you doing?” Danny had no idea.
“I’m getting a ring.” I didn’t look at him or anything to see his reaction. I just got
out of the car and walked into the store. I didn’t know if he followed me; I assumed he
did. Danny always had my back and I knew he did now. It was his idea.
“Steve, you never do stuff like this. You always think about he pros and cons.
You think about what your parents think.” He made a good point but he knew I was set
on doing it.
“I know,” I said, short and sweet.
We were in the store for about ten minutes until I saw the perfect ring. It was a
little pricy, but I took my mac card out that my parents gave to me for emergencies only.
To me it was an emergency. I swiped the card and walked out a different person. I was
molding myself into the person I wanted to be, not who my parents wanted me to be. For
the first time in my life I didn’t care what they had to say.
Danny and I drove right from the jewelry store to Sarah’s house. Danny knocked
on the door. Shortly after he was followed by Sarah to the car. She had a shocked look on
her face. He told her and I don’t think she could believe it.
“I hope you know, Steven, she hasn’t been the same since she met you.” Sarah
was actually telling me to do it. I was shocked.
“Well, where does she live?’ I asked Sarah so I couldn’t talk myself out of it.
Sarah took me to Katie’s house and I was ready to do what I came to do. When
we got there, I put my car in park and turned it off. I hesitated for a moment but got out
of the car. I walked up to her front door and rang the doorbell. She answered the door
with a surprised smile on her face, like a little kid on Christmas. I knelt to the ground.
“Katie, I can’t stop thinking about you. You are the only girl who has ever made
me feel this way and I know you’re the one. You might think I am crazy for doing this,
but will you marry me?” I was so nervous that I couldn’t breath.
“Yes, Steven, I will,” she said with no hesitation.
Now it is two years later and I am standing at he alter with my best man, Danny,
by my side. Looking back on all the things we’ve done, I am glad he was always there for
me. If it wasn’t for him, we would never be here. Danny was my best friend and brother.
That would never change.
Margot Sica
4-16-09
Short Story
“Alex, God damnit, I could crawl into a hole and you would still bother me!” my
mom’s shrill voice screamed as I asked her to hand me my eye drops from the bathroom.
I was used to this, her psychotic, verbally abusive personality. This was definitely one of
her most charming traits, especially first thing in the morning. I snatched the eye drops
from her hand and ran into my room. The old wooden door creaked as I shut it, a casualty
from my constant string of punches and sudden bursts of anger. I was afraid the thing
wouldn’t hold up long enough to endure a few more hits. I guess I should start on the
wall next. I threw the little bottle onto my desk and rubbed my head. It was starting to
hurt badly. My phone suddenly started buzzing, and I looked lazily at the screen. My face
instantly lit up as I recognized the name; Norah was calling. Norah was the best friend
every guy wished he had. She was the , considerate, and easygoing girl who could always
keep up with the guys. Her soft voice cheered me up instantly, and I smiled widely when
she asked me to come over to her boyfriend John’s, who was also my good friend. I got
ready quickly and opened my door to the back yard.
I walked through the woods despite the muddy ground and the tremendous swarm
of hungry mosquitoes. The only bad thing about summer time is those nasty mosquitoes;
those things love me. John’s house was about a five-minute walk through the woods
behind my house, and conveniently, the nasty wooded shortcut led right to his driveway.
As I emerged through the trees, John was waiting for me on his porch with a yellowtoothed smile and a burning joint. Norah smiled at me and waved. John’s arms tightened
around her waist as she started to move towards me.
“Hey Al, John has his mom’s car and he wants to make a drug run”
Norah rolled her eyes at the word “drug run”
“Uh alright man that’s cool with me…Norah you really shouldn’t come with us”
“She’ll be fine man, it’s just Chester.”
I scowled at John’s answer. A beautiful girl like Norah should not be brought into
a drug deal with a Chester low-life.
“It’s alright Al, I’ll be fine”
Norah’s smile still didn’t put me at ease.
I sat next to John in the passenger seat of his mom’s Nissan.
“So, Ice said he’ll meet us at the Sunoco in about ten minutes and we’ll pick him
up. You got the money?”
I looked at John and smiled at his question.
“I always have the money man.”
“You know how he gets pissed when we don’t, Alex.”
“I said I got it.”
If anyone knew how Ice, the crazy Chester crack head and part time drug dealer
got mad, it was me. I wasn’t messing anything up. Especially with Norah in the back seat,
I wanted to make this smooth and easy. We pulled around to the Sunoco and right on
time, Ice strode lightly across the parking lot and got in the back. His eyes were
yellowing around the edges and he was missing all but three teeth that dangled uselessly
in the back of his mouth. He was so tall he could barely fit into the back of the miniature
sized Nissan. He opened the door and sat next to Norah. She squirmed and moved as far
away as she could get.
“What you want boss?”
Ice said casually to John, his gums mouthing his letters.
“Two eighties,”
John replied, handing back the money.
“Actually make it three, man.”
I handed over the extra cash to John.
As the exchange took place, I couldn’t help thinking about when I finally got my
hands on the pill, I would feel so good. I glanced at Norah’s uneasy face, why would
John ever bring her with us?
After our little trip to Chester, we all went back to John’s. Norah and I talked for a
while. She was holding a beer in her hand, but not really drinking it. Her eyes were bright
and clear as she looked into mine.
“Alex, can I vent for a little?”
I hesitated. I knew what this was about.
“Sure, Nor go ahead.”
“Well John has been acting so weird lately, like he never seems to want to hang
out anymore, and he never even calls me back most of the time.”
John was a low-life druggie and the fact that Norah even liked him was something
astonishing. He was a jerk; I tried to tell her that from day one.
“Norah, I told you John is just like that. He’s not really the best with girls. Plus,
you guys have been hooking up for only like two weeks now.”
“So what does that mean?”
“Nor, to be totally honest he doesn’t keep girls around for long, so have your
guard up.”
I watched her face fall as my words sank in. Her beautiful mouth started to curl
downward into a frown. My thoughts turned dangerously on me. She was too good for
him; he didn’t deserve such a good girl like Norah. She was just so sweet; she deserved to
be loved the right way. I shook my head at my thoughts. What was I doing? Norah was
my best friend! I finished my beer quickly embarrassed at my thoughts.
By the time I walked home from Johns, it was about one thirty in the morning.
My stairs creaked noisily and I groaned. I had just woken up my mom. She was the
lightest sleeper. As expected, she staggered out of her room probably still as drunk as I
was, mumbling to herself.
“Alex, what the hell are you doing home so late?”
She wagged her finger at me and than stumbled into the bathroom. I thanked God
for this chance to escape, and then rushed into my room. Man, I hated her. I just wanted
to yell in her face what a real bitch she was, but then almost instantly; all my anger had
dissipated into fatigue. Just an overwhelming sense of being way too tired. My room
started swaying a little with the combination of beer and pills in my system. Suddenly, I
started to think about Norah. It is always dangerous when I’m alone to think. I started
thinking about our endless talks and the way her face looked when I made her laugh,
really laugh. I fought for awhile but then I finally gave in to my thoughts, and let my
mind wander around Norah. I smiled as I lay on my bed, drifting to sleep with her in
mind.
I woke up the next morning to find that I still had all of my clothes and my shoes
on. I was sprawled across my bed and man; I had one wicked hang over. My head
throbbed as I sat up and with difficulty. I tried to recall the events of last night. I
remembered my dangerous thoughts about Norah, and the way she looked when I told
her about John. I rubbed my head and looked at the clock; I realized I was really late to
pick up John.
I showed up at John’s right after twelve in my famous blue, 1999 Ford Explorer.
When my mom left for her water aerobics class, I took the old car out to make a much
needed beer and alcohol run. It was one of the most gorgeous summer days yet and even
better, it was a Saturday and John was having a huge party. I honked my horn as loud as I
could. All my windows were open, letting the sun seep through them. I blasted “Forty
Below summer” and smiled.
“Come on already, John!” I said to myself.
Then as if on cue, John came tumbling out of his house with the usual boys. The
boys consisted of Corey, Chris and Mike. They all hurried out behind John.
“Hey, man!” John said, slapping my hand after he took shotgun.
“Johnny, what’s up, man?”
He smiled at me and said:
“Tonight will be a good time. Norah’s coming and she’s
bringing one of her friend’s; I think you know her? Sarah something?”
I smiled. Of course I knew Sarah, we had been in band together way back. She
was a really cute little blonde, conservative, and I couldn’t really see her coming to any
of John’s parties. I was mildly excited all the same; the scenery would be changing up a
little. I whipped the old Explorer into the Wine and Spirits parking lot and waited for our
first round of purchases to be over. I thought about Norah again as Mike lumbered into
the store. What was wrong with me?
Later that day, I popped a couple tens and took a shower. I was more excited
about tonight than usual, though I couldn’t really figure out why. I tried to pretend like I
was excited about seeing Sarah, but from what I remember she was way to shy for me. I
got out of the shower and hurried to put on clothes. I eluded my mom on the way out and
made my way through the muddy path to John’s.
I showed up at John’s house a little after eight thirty. He had sufficiently built a
bonfire at the very beginning of his woods. The cleared off patch was out of sight and
perfect for us to bring our plentiful cases of beer, and bags of weed. The glinting fire
danced around John’s face as he came up to me with a Natty in his hand.
“Hey, Al, it’s about time”
“Sorry man, showering and stuff…” John laughed at me.
“All right well, whatever, at least you don’t smell so bad now. Sarah’s here
come see her. She looks real good.”
I walked closer towards the fire and saw my stupid friends doing beer bongs and
smoking blunts. I looked a little to the left and saw two girls standing close to the fire
despite the heat outside. I first saw Sarah, and she did look good. Her short blonde hair
was clipped up off her face and her nose ring glimmered in the luminous firelight. I
smiled and started walking towards her. I stopped suddenly as I saw whom she was with;
Norah.
“Hey Alex!” Sarah said a little too eagerly. I could tell she instantly regretted her
greeting, and that her nerves got the better of her. I smiled and responded but her nerves
continued to be overactive, making her sink farther away from the fire; from me.
“Hey, darling” Norah stepped forward and gave me a huge hug.
“Hey, Norah! How are you doing?”
She frowned.
“Well I guess you didn’t hear me and John ended it. It’s not a big thing but it just
wasn’t working out, I just came here tonight because nothing else was going on.” She
threw in her explanation quickly at the end, almost to justify herself.
“Well honestly Norah, I’m glad. He didn’t deserve you; he’s a jerk with girls.”
I couldn’t believe my own bold words. I smiled.
“Aw, thanks Al. You’re the best.”
She hugged me tightly.
“Well, I’ll let you and Sarah talk, I’m sure you haven’t seen each other in awhile.”
She gently pushed Sarah towards me, and then smiled. I looked closer into her
face and realized Norah was trying to make Sarah more comfortable around me, less
nervous. I smiled at her efforts, although Sarah seemed to shrink further into the
darkness. I really did forget how incredibly shy that girl is. Norah hurried away with a
smirk, and shoved Sarah closer towards me still. It really didn’t make the situation any
less awkward.
“So Sarah what’s up? How have you been?”
She looked up at me, seeming to choose her words carefully, she responded,
“Oh, I’m good I just got back from like a little family vacation…not too fun, you
know?” I nodded, trying to seem interested. I reached over next to her and grabbed a beer
bong and a forty.
“How about we do a beer bong to start the night off?” I smiled and held it towards
her.
“Uh…I’ve never done one before I don’t know if I can do it!”
“Sure you can! It’s so easy just chug the tube until you get to the foam than hold it
straight up again.” She laughed and shrugged.
“Okay I guess I can try it!” I held the tube as she slurped down the Old English
and helped her stop it after the foam came back up.
“Wow that comes up fast!” She wiped the beer off that spilled out on her shorts.
It didn’t take long for Sarah to loosen up after a couple beer bongs. She quickly
confided to me that she was sort of with someone, but didn’t want to be. I listened and
nodded but all the while looking at her lips. Suddenly, her phone beeped loudly. She went
for it but I snapped it up and smiled at her.
“Oh, a text from Norah! It says, did you get with him yet?”
I shook my head, at least I was drunk.
“Ah, oh my God, Norah! I’m going to kill her!” She turned ten shades of red.
I sloppily grabbed her face gently and pressed her lips into mine, all the while
thinking of Norah.
About a week later, John had another party. Sarah and I had ended things the
same night we began them. Neither of us was interested, and that was fine by me, just
another drunken hookup. I had been hanging around with Norah so much lately. We were
always together. Our personalities just clicked effortlessly and we spent our time together
laughing and smiling. We took long drives in the summer heat together and talked about
everything from my summers spent in Maine to how the world was supposedly ending in
2012. We became inseparable; I eluded hanging out with my friends and hoped I would
spend the day with her. She made me happier than anyone ever had, she effortlessly made
me smile and laugh and I just loved it, I needed it, I was addicted.
Towards the middle of the summer, Norah and I showed up to a party together.
We both walked side by side into this kid Steve’s house. The backyard was lit up and the
pool water glimmered. It was a small crowd but by the looks of it, just as much fun.
Norah and I walked up to the bar and suddenly, she stopped and rolled her eyes. John’s
arm was around a trashy looking blonde with a cigarette hanging out of her teeth. She
turned to me.
“John, can we just get out of here for a little? This looks a little boring.”
I didn’t even hesitate to answer her.
“Yeah, I wanted to run to Wawa anyways.” I started towards my car and she
grabbed my arm, I shuddered. Her hands were freezing, and so soft. We both climbed
into my old Explorer and I started the car.
“Wait, can we just sit here for a little?” She asked quietly.
“If you want to, what’s up?” She started to talk almost as soon as I finished my
last syllable.
“Alex, I just want someone to love me, to appreciate me. All I want is to feel
loved, is that too much?” My eyes got huge and I hesitated for a minute. This was it. I
couldn’t believe I was hearing these words out of her mouth. The past few weeks brought
me to the irreversible conclusion that I liked Norah, so much. I had kept it quiet, never
expressing my thoughts, and just growing fonder of her every day. I didn’t want to ruin
our perfect, effortless friendship but I realized, now was the breaking point. This was it, I
had to tell her. I took a deep breath, and then replied:
“Norah that’s all I have ever wanted to give to you. From the first time we went
driving all I wanted to show you is real love, but we were such amazing friends, there
was no was I wanted to ruin it.”
I swallowed hard. Finally, I said what I had been thinking since the first time Norah and I
really talked. Even if she didn’t respond in the way I wanted, I finally said it.
Her face lit up and she started to bite her lips with excitement, one of her cutest
traits. She responded confidently, taking my hands.
“Alex, all I want is to be with you! I never wanted to say anything to ruin our
friendship either!” She beamed and laughed.
“Alex, we are so good for each other don’t you see?”
I smiled bigger than I think I ever have. I felt infinite. I grabbed her hands too, and held
them so tight.
“Norah, we are so good for each other. Let me love you the way you deserve.”
She smiled, and then her eyes suddenly flickered to the clock.
“It’s eleven eleven, make a wish!” She suddenly said in true Norah fashion.
I looked closely into her eyes and grabbed her chin lightly.
“I really did get my wish Norah, I don’t need to make another one.” I smiled,
then pressed my lips into her perfect ones; she didn’t know how long I had been waiting
for her.
Period 2
That One-Day
By: Tyler Ardary
I woke up that morning with the feeling of uncertainty. There was dried blood on
my hands and a small pool of blood on the side of the mattress. I had no recognition of
how that got there or what I did last night. The last thing I remember is being wheeled
through the emergency room doors with the chatter of doctors in the viewing room
looking at me with a glaring stare. When I woke up I felt like I was Bruce Willis from
Striking Distance and Harrison Ford from The Fugitive when they both found blood in
their rooms on their beds for that moment. There were a bunch of questions running
through my mind and no answers.
I knew I was in my house, but I was confused more than that kid who had autism
that was in the Mercury Rising. I wondered to myself where I parked my car. What did I
do last night? What was the date? I felt scared, and confused and started to feel
claustrophobic in my own house. Not before long, I was thinking of something else.
Trying desperately to recall yesterday, only movies from the 1990’s came to mind. If I
was confused about everything, there was one thing that I was certain about and it was
the fact that I loved my movies. I was obsessed with good films. Two of my favorite
movies of all time are Forest Gump, and the Shawshank Redemption. I can remember the
instances of when I saw both of them for the first time.
It was August 13, 1994, when I took Emily Malis out to the local drive-in movie
theater where we saw the premiere of Forest Gump. She wore a short jean skirt and a
tight white shirt. She was so stunning that night that I could barely keep my eyes off of
her. I was such a movie fanatic that I refrained from making out with her in efforts to
watch the movie in its entirety. I have never shown more emotions during a movie than
that one. I was happy, laughing, and sad all throughout the movie. It was hard for me to
deny such a hottie, so as soon as the movie was over we made love in the back seat of my
El Camino for hours.
There I was, in the same drive in theater when I saw Forest Gump but three
months later. It was a cold November night, but this time I was with Devin instead of
Emily. Emily and I did not last too much longer after our date to see Forest Gump
together; I guess sleeping with Emily’s best friend on the red Ikea futon in Emily’s house
was a bad idea. Who would have known? Well, ever since I met Devin, I have never been
happier. She is perfect. She and I sat through and watched Shawshank Redemption. We
both agreed it was a spectacular movie. Movies were the one thing that helped me dream
and think in solitude. Devin and I connected unlike any other girl I have met. She had
everything Emily did not. The more I hung out with her, the more faultless she became. I
would have never forgotten that night even if I tried. Everything about it was perfect. We
watched the sun set beforehand, saw an excellent film, and then had our first kiss in front
of her house before I said, “goodbye.”
Those memories were always so clear to me. I can still picture them in my mind
as if they just happened, but I cannot recall what I did yesterday. I still contemplate about
that blood on my mattress and my hands. Was it my blood? Was it someone else’s? Was
it something’s? All these questions ran through my head but had no answers. I don’t
know why, but I kept thinking of my past memories. Since I didn’t know what was going
on around me at that moment I just looked at my past memories that brought me solitude.
Devin looked stunning as she walked down her driveway to me with the air
blowing in her face, causing her light brown hair to flow freely in the wind as I came to
pick her up. It was as if for one second in the world, at least, all evil and hardships
seemed to disappear. I became locked with her eyes as she was walking down to me. No
matter how hard I tried, if I wanted to, I couldn’t turn my head from her
incomprehensible beauty. She ran gracefully to me and jumped in my arms with just the
joy and excitement of seeing me. She climbed in the car and we drove west. It was hard
for me to drive with her clinging all over me, but I enjoyed it. We drove for an hour till
we reached a deserted beach with the sun shining brightly on our faces. Even her shadow
on the pavement as we walked to the beach was astonishing. As soon as our feet hit the
sand, we took off our sandals and felt the warm sand sizzle between our toes. We talked
for hours on that beach about everything; we talked about family matters and religious
philosophy to the joy of skipping rocks. We were deep in conversation until we realized
that the sun was a few minutes away from setting and a dead silence just broke out. That
was the most perfect night I have ever experienced.
There was a brief smile that appeared on my face until when I got a glimpse of
reality and the smile soon faded. The whole blood situation was still so curious to me. My
house seemed a little strange. There were a few things that I had never seen before; there
was something on my table that was white and looked like a new laptop but very thin
with a bitten apple as the logo. I was not used to something that thin being a laptop; the
only one I remember having was a few inches thick with a dull 10’’ screen on it. I did not
touch anything. Walking to the kitchen, I saw two notes on the counter. One that read,
“Go to Dr. Graff’s Office,” and the other was a note trying to tell me something. It was
not making much sense to me. The note told me that I had a memory loss problem, but
did not think much of it. It seemed like it was in my handwriting, but I did not recall me
writing any sort of notes. It felt as if I was in someone else’s house. Confused, I
proceeded out to the driveway where I saw my old-faithful Mazda Protégé.
There I was on the roadside of a late spring in 1999, sleeping in the front seat in
my Mazda Protégé with the moon radiance seeping in from the open moon roof. There
was an empty bottle of champagne on the passenger seat next to me with two paper cups
one of which was used. I had everything ready; there was a straw basket with a soft
blanket, sandwiches, a bucket of fried chicken in it, and even KY 2 in 1 warming body
massage gel in it, in the back seat. I was preparing for this moment for almost a year now.
My zipped-up gym bag had been sitting in the trunk next to a recently crumbled slip of
paper with “new year’s resolutions” written at the top. My top and only resolution was to
ask Devin to marry me. I did not know what to do with my recent rejection; all I could
think of was to drive. And driving is what I did. I didn’t know what to do with myself.
Thoughts of suicide had run through my mind, along with running to Zimbabwe, where
my thirteen dollars I had in my back pocket would be worth billions in their currency. I
have traveled from Maine to Florida and everywhere in-between drinking endless bottles
of alcohol.
I got in my Protégé that was parked under the large oak tree and drove to the
doctor’s office that I have been going to for the past ten years. Dr. Graff could always tell
me what was wrong with me and had solutions for everything.
There was one time when I was little, I was sick for days thinking to myself that I
was going to die, when I went to Dr. Graff, He diagnosed me with food poisoning and
prescribed antibiotics, and I was better within a day.
I got in the office and not soon after getting there, I was called back to see Dr.
Graff. Dr. Graff pulled out my file and papers were overflowing from it. It was about 6
inches thick and looked like it weighed a ton. Dr. Graff sat me down on the table and
began to speak very slowly and firmly to me.
“Okay, listen very carefully Tom. You have Traumatic Amnesia,” he said.
“WHAT!?”
“You got in a major car accident four and a half years ago while you were
intoxicated, and you have had memory problems ever since.”
“I’ve had this for four and a half years? How come I don’t remember?”
“Traumatic Amnesia is caused by a major blow to the head, in your case it was
your head slamming against the steering wheel going from 75 mph to a dead stop by
running into a tree. This type of amnesia causes short-term memory loss of everything
after the accident, but memory from before the accident should be very clear. Bleeding
from the nose at an intense rate may occur every now and then for you in the middle of
the night, you hav……..”
In the middle of his sentence, when he was about to tell me that I came to his
office several times a week for the past few years, I walked out and ran down the stairs
petrified and jumped in my car. In the front seat I pondered to myself, then looked in the
rear-view mirror and saw some old scars on my forehead. A flashback ran through my
head of me getting put on a stretcher and wheeled into the ambulance. I did not believe
what he told me until everything kicked together. The date on the green and white sign in
front of the TD bank said it was September 23, 2004. The last date I remembered was
that night in my car drinking heavily in 1999. I have not been living for the last five
years. I tried to think but the only thing I could think of was everything prior to 1999.
I felt like Brad Pitt and Edward Norton portraying Tyler Durden with the multi
personality disorder. I could only try and imagine what I did the past few years but
nothing came to mind. I was like someone trapped in another body. I ran to my
trustworthy Citizens Bank ever since my childhood and withdrew some money for some
food on the way home. I got to the ATM, punched in my information, when the amount
that came up read “$3,450,904.16.” “What the Hell!” I thought to myself. I withdrew $50
then continued on my way back to my home.
I walked in the door just to see my mother, who seemed much aged, with now
gray hair, from the last time I remember seeing her waiting by the kitchen counter
holding my mail.
“Hello, son,” she said to me in a calm voice.
She sat me down on the sofa, and started telling me the story. “You must be very
confused right now well let me explain. You were nineteen. That was about five years
ago now, and you had been drinking and driving due to your break up with Devin
O’Connel. She was your soul mate, you said, and you couldn’t deal with the rejection.
Well, anyway, you were driving down Rt. 34 when you ran into a large Maple tree. There
you suffered from major head injuries, giving you Traumatic Amnesia. When you were
in the hospital, the doctor prescribed Xanax because of your anxiety from the crash. That
drug, along with the Traumatic Amnesia, caused serious memory problems. You may
have seen a lot of money in your account, which is from us suing the doctor because of
him prescribing you those drugs that furthered your memory loss. You wake up each day
thinking it’s the day before you got into your car accident. It has been almost five years
since, and you do not remember anything of that. I have been coming here every day for
the past sixty months explaining this story to you, just for you to wake up the next
morning to forget it. What do you think?”
Horrified, I pondered then came to the conclusion that all these things that people
were saying to me had been true. I still had the scars from the accident, and the only
things I remember are old memories now. My mom and I talked for a little, and she
basically filled me in on the headlines from 2000 to 2004, and I was stunned to hear that
we went to war with Iraq and all about 9/11.
Before long I was getting tired and headed up to bed. I fell asleep within a few
minutes. I woke up the next morning with the feeling of uncertainty. There was dried
blood on my hands and a small pool of blood on the side of the mattress. I had no
recognition of how that got there or what I did last night. The last thing I remember is
being wheeled through the emergency room doors with the chatter of doctors in the
viewing room looking at me with a glaring stare.
Nick Barbieri
Short Story
4/13/09
Heart of a Champion
On October 6th, 2008, the Penncrest Lions football team was preparing for the
second biggest football game in school history. I couldn’t believe our football team was
in fourth place in the Super Seven in the Daily Times with a 5-1 record. That Friday
under the lights on October 10th, 2008, at Lewis W. Scott Field, the Penncrest Lions
would take on the 5-1 hard-nosed, dirty Ridley Raiders. All of us knew what kind of
football team Ridley was, so we gathered together for a captains meeting (involving Rick
Bailey, Tyreek Kershaw, Chris Quintans, and me) Monday after school at 2:15 P.M. in
the football locker room.
I was the first of the group to speak up, telling the others flat out, “Fellas, all of us
here know Ridley is no joke, and that is why we must have the most physical up-tempo
practice we have had all year.” Chris Quintans, my best friend and a co-captain, became
extremely angry with me when I spoke first and stole his thunder. It was tradition for him
to speak first, but since I was so fired up, I just had to have the first word.
The rest of the captains agreed, and Rick Bailey chimed in and quickly said
something before we headed out: “Guys, we can beat this football team; it’s a matter of
who makes the least mistakes and who controls the football.” The Lions football team, as
well as the captains, all looked at each other and said, “Let’s bring it in, have fun today,
and run a perfect practice.”
I told the captains when we stepped onto the practice field that we should start our
calisthenics before the coaches came out not only to impress them and show them that we
were ready for this week’s game, but to have more time for play installation and
defensive keys and reads. Chris gave me a dirty look and called me a kiss ass as if I were
out to put him down or outsmart him. When the coaches trotted out onto the field they
saw the look in our eyes, and Coach Cun yelled, “The Green Mystique (the Ridley
football nickname) does not come into our house and push us around. You all know
that!”
I screamed in a very exciting, bone-crushing manner, “It’s go time, boys; bring it
in, and let’s come out here, fly around, and have a perfect practice today!”
Usually Chris and I break the team down before we head in, but when I yelled for
him to break us down, he sarcastically said, “It’s all you, Captain Barb; you got it!”
This was by far the best practice week of the whole season we as a squad had yet.
Not only were our heads completely in it and focused the entire time, but we also got a
lot of work done and remembered everything that was coming our way on defense. We
installed new run/pass plays on offense to throw Ridley off guard. This week of practice
was so successful and up-tempo because we highlighted our best scout
defensive/offensive players, such as Matt Snow, Drew Snow Joe Bentevoglio, Mikey
Stephens, and Kevin Cosgrove, who mimicked their studs and lined them up against our
aces, such as Chris Quintans, Phil Barbieri, John Young, Jerry Boyer, Tyreek Kershall,
and me to better us for Friday’s game.
Friday was here; it was October 10th, game day. This was probably the worst day
of school for me because I couldn’t focus on anything the whole day besides the game,
and my best friend/right-hand man on the football field was holding a grudge. I kept
having visions of myself making a game-changing play or one of my teammates doing
something spectacular. On top of the game Chip Olinger had put together a pep rally for
our school to get us all pumped up and rowdy for that night’s game. It was so special
because all of the students and faculty I talked to throughout the day told me that they
would all be attending the game that night to see the Penncrest Lions whoop the Ridley
Raider’s asses for the first time in fifteen years.
I was so happy that we were going to have a good crowd for the game, because
not only does it mean a lot to the players how much everyone cares, but it really makes us
play that much better when the school and the community come out to support us. About
four hours before game time I was heading home to go out to lunch with some of the
guys from the team. Mr. Olinger pulled me aside and told me that the game that night had
been sold out and that we would be having a packed house. I couldn’t believe my ears
when he told me the news; I was almost in shock because I couldn’t believe 1,300 people
would be coming to see one of the biggest games of the whole year played at Lewis W
Scott Field.
I called my dad right away once I heard the news, and he only said one word,
“Woooooow!” I told him it amazed me how every year the Penncrest Lions have an
average record at best, like, 5-5 or 4-6, and other years Penncrest was lucky if we had
five hundred people come see us play. My dad told me in a serious football tone, “When
the team plays well, people care, and they want to watch you guys play because the
Central League is a very competitive league and the community members love seeing
their team on top for once. That is why it is important for you to go out there tonight and
make a statement. Go show these fans, especially Ridley, what you and your team are all
about, and just have fun and go win yourself a football game tonight.” When I heard
those words come out of my dad’s mouth, I had goose bumps shoot down my entire
body, which made me more and more anxious for the game. Right after I got off the
phone with my dad, the very first person I called was Chris. I called to fill him on the
news since he was always so interested about facts, news, and statistics. I unfortunately
got his voice mail and left him a detailed message about how sorry I was; I told him I
didn’t want tension during that night’s game.
It was just about ten minutes before game time, and we all sat in the locker room,
dressed and waiting for the coaches to come in to give their final speeches before we
headed out to battle. I slowly looked around the room, containing a raging anger and with
an aggressive look on my face. I looked into my teammates’ eyes and saw the war paint
that they had sketched on their faces, and I said to myself under my breath, “We are
ready!”
The coaches came in, clapping their hands, yelling, and getting us hyped for the
game when Coach Graham said a phrase that caught our attention immediately: “Heart of
a Champion, fellas, Heart of a Champion!” Since Monday’s practice our quote or saying
for the week was “Heart of a Champion,” and we all found it very ironic Coach Graham
said, “If you have the heart of a champion, you will come out victorious tonight on that
field. We were all silent, kneeling down, bowing our heads, and praying the Our Father
before it was time to fight against the undisputed Ridley Raiders. Two minutes before
kick-off all I could hear was the stadium roaring like a pride of lions, excited and anxious
for the game to start, with butterflies flapping their wings in my stomach, making me
more nervous than I ever had been before. I was upset that my best friend, Chris
Quintains, still didn’t look my way after I had apologized and left him a message telling
him I was sorry for my selfish act.
The Raiders were set to kick off since we won the toss and chose to receive the
ball first so we could shove it down their throats on the first drive to really shut them up.
We really wanted to kill their swagger. On the first play we took the ball out to the
twenty-five yard line, which put us just where wanted to be, and Matt Atkinson, our
quarterback, faked veer and took off running down the center of the field, giving a head
fake to the corner back and taking the ball into their forty-five yard line. The stadium
screamed in amazement, and I looked to my partner in crime, Chris Quintans, and said,
“Holy shit, bro, I can’t even hear myself talk right now; this is unbelievable!”
I saw him glance at me and smile, and he bobbed his head up and down, saying,
“We got this, baby; we got this. Let’s just punch this bad boy in for six and shut them and
their fans up.” Right after he said that to me, a big question mark sat on the top of my
helmet. “What made him say that to me, especially since in the locker room he didn’t
even acknowledge me?”
On the next play Jerry Hammer Boyer was able to barrel himself into the end
zone to give us the lead, 6-0. Unfortunately for how hard our defense worked that week,
Ridley drove right down the field on us in eight plays and put seven on the board with the
score standing at 6-7, Ridley Raiders. As soon as the defensive unit trotted off the field, I,
as the captain of the defense, got a whole mouth full of criticism from our defensive
coordinator, Coach Cun.
We had 1:00 left until half time, and the score stood at 6-13, Ridley Raiders, with
Ridley in our red zone about to punch it in again if we didn’t shut them down. The worst
part about it all was they would be getting the ball again in the second half, so that meant
that the defensive unit that we needed to stop them here. The Ridley quarterback slung a
bullet into the stomach of Troy Foster, a 6’1’’ wide receiver, and gave his team the
astonishing lead of 6-19. As a team we walked into the locker room, and I saw that some
of the guys had their heads down as if the game were already over and the Ridley Raiders
had come in and beaten the Penncrest Lions for the sixteenth year in a row. I screamed at
the top of my lungs in complete anger and said, “LET’S GO; THESE KIDS ARE NOT
BETTER THAN WE ARE, FELLAS. WE MADE TOO MANY MISTAKES IN THE
FIRST HALF, AND WE’LL ELIMINATE THEM ALL IN THE SECOND.
REMEMBER WHAT COACH GRAHAM SAID BEFORE WE STEPPED ONTO
THAT FIELD: ‘HEART OF A CHAMPION.’ WELL, I HATE TO SAY IT, BUT WE
ARE NOT PLAYING LIKE CHAMPIONS AT ALL RIGHT NOW. SO PICK IT THE
HELL UP!!” After I yelled for a good three minutes straight, I looked around and saw
everyone staring directly at me as if my head were going to explode.
Right after I said my words, Coach Graham came in and said, “I overheard what
Barb said, and he is right; you guys are making too many mistakes, and they are
capitalizing on all them. This can’t happen in the second half, so buckle down and come
out and smack them in the mouth as you did all week in practice, which impressed the
hell out of us coaches.”
Chris grabbed my arm before I walked out and said, “Let’s get this win, and we
will settle our problem after the game.” I gave him a high five and a little love tap on his
rear end and then trotted onto the field for the second half.
The second half kick-off landed the ball on the fifteen yard line, and we came out
flying around, shutting out the powerhouse Ridley offense in three plays every time they
tried to drive on us. We got the ball back on our forty-five, and I told the offensive unit in
the huddle with apprehension, “This is our time to make a statement and show how much
heart we have, boys!” We drove the ball all the way down in five plays, and Matt Bundy
scored on his famous straight away route, which he worked to perfection. During that
play a sneaky Ridley linebacker blitzed on Chris from his blind side and was about to
demolish him, since Chris was battling with the Ridley nose guard. I sprinted and laid out
right in the path of the Ridley linebacker, saving Chris before he had his head taken off.
Chris turned and saw out of his peripherals what I had done, and he said gratefully,
“Thanks for looking out, bro; I appreciate it!” The crowd roared in a frenzy, and the
Penncrest Lions were right back in this, 10-19.
The third quarter had come to a close and the fourth quarter was just about ready
to begin when Coach Graham said, “Keep your composure out there, and keep doing
what you are doing, because you are wearing them out and they are having trouble with
our run game.” In the second half it was our defense that was winning the game for us,
since we were shutting them out every time they received the ball, and there was nothing
they could do about it. With three minutes left in the fourth, the score remained 17-19
with Ridley on our forty-five yard line. Their high hopes that drive ended really quickly
when Tim Masterson, Ridley’s quarterback, aired one out to Pat Mill and in the blink of
an eye Tyreek Kershall stole the ball in air as if he were robbing a bank. I had never seen
Tyreek jump so high in my entire life; for a quick second I thought Tyreek was Superman
jumping through the air and snagging the ball away from Pat Mills before he could even
get his hands on it. This play changed the game dramatically because not only did Tyreek
intercept the ball, but he also returned it to our twenty-five yard line with a lead block by
me, running people over like a tank along the way. I turned to look up at the crowd and
just pointed and saw the Penncrest fan base in a wave of black, red, and white jumping on
their feet, waving pom-poms and shouting.
We were still leading 26-19 with two minutes left in the fourth, and Ridley had
the ball on their own thirty-five. Coach Cun immediately called time out to come talk
strategy in the huddle and let us know what to expect with two minutes left. Ricky Bailey
and my younger brother, Phil, told the team to think pass first and watch the screen play.
As we all knew, Ricky and Phil nailed it right on the button; Ridley tried to pass coming
out of the gate. It was fourth down and their last chance to make a play in just about
midfield before the Penncrest Lions would take the victory, 26-19, for the first time in
fifteen years. Masterson hiked the ball, and I sneaked off the edge into the Ridley
backfield like a bolt of lightning, sacking Masterson in the act of passing the football to
his number-one receiver, Pat Mills. The ball flew into the air in the backfield as I laid my
shoulder into the back of his vertebrae, snapping his head backward and chopping down
on his arm like an ax, making it look like a dislocated limb. That was it; the referee blew
his whistle, indicating the end of the game. I was amazed at all the people from the stands
emptying onto the field, because it looked like a giant flood just letting loose. Friends and
family were running right at players, giving hugs, kisses, and congratulations.
The team gathered around in our end zone, as the coaches and captains said what
was on their minds at the end of every game, and the first individual to speak was Coach
Graham. The first phrase that ran from his mouth in complete excitement and happiness
was, “That’s heart of a champion, fellas. The second-half football I saw from this team
tonight was as nothing ever before. If you play football like you did in the second half of
this game for the rest of the season, you will be a force to be reckoned with.”
After all the coaches said their words of inspiration and congratulations, I was the
first of the captains to get up and say some final words before we walked off the field for
the night. I jumped up from my knee and just said, “Clap it up!” and the whole team as
one big unit just followed my lead and clapped it up and gave a big loud Penncrest Lions
roar. After the team clapped, all I could say without crying in tears of sheer glory was,
“Thank you, guys, so much for pulling together and believing in one another and beating
an extremely physical football team tonight. Winning this game tonight feels as if we
have just won a championship, especially with all the fans and action that happened in
this game tonight.”
I was walking up the steps heading to the locker room, and Chris yelled from
behind me, “Barb, wait up!!” I didn’t know what he was going to say, but he told me he
was sorry for over-reacting and being selfish. I told him it was no big deal and just to put
it behind us so we could be best friends again. He gave me a friendly, sweaty hug and
said, “You’re my boy for saving my ass from that linebacker that almost ended me.”
One of the best nights of my life from a football stand point was coming to a
close, and as I walked off the field that night, filled with success and delight, I thanked
every Penncrest or Ridley fan who came to see us play. Just as I was about to leave for
the night, I saw Coach Cun walking to his car; I sprinted over with an ice bag on my
shoulder and just shook his hand and said, “Good things are down the road; we just set a
high bar for ourselves.”
He replied in crazy state of mind, “THAT IS WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR,
BARBS. BY THE WAY, THAT WAS A BONE-CRUSHING HIT TO END THE
GAME TONIGHT, BROTHER!”
I really felt as if I had the heart of a champion on the night of October 10th, and I
couldn’t wait to wake up the next morning, feeling like a winner and seeing Penncrest
Lions football highlighted in big bold print all over the Daily Times.
Monica Bautista
A Change in Her Live
When Annie wakes up every morning, all she feels is sadness and emptiness. She
thinks that the best solution for her is being herself. It is not a good idea to tell anyone
about her problem, especially her family. She does not feel brave enough. She hopes that
everything will be okay, she will be happy again. She just needs more time to think,
maybe to forget. But, does she really want to forget? She avoids being alone with
someone in her family. They know that something wrong is going on with her, but she
does not talk to anyone, not even with her friends. She makes excuses. She says that she
has a lot to do; she is always busy. Annie has experienced a huge change in her life. She
can’t stand it anymore. Five years have passed. All she has done is go to school. She
always thought that she was going to be able to handle it, but she was wrong. Now that
she is almost ready to work, all her fears have come back. It is always tough on her when
she has to make decisions. She likes to please everyone that surrounds her. She doesn’t
want to hurt anyone. That is why it is always that hard for her when she has to make
serious decisions. Annie always puts people that she loves before her own happiness;
however, she needs a change in her life. If she never thinks about herself, she will never
be happy again. She wishes everything would be easier. Would her life be completely
different if nothing had happened? Does she regret her past?
When Annie woke up, the first thing that she saw when she turned the light on
was the picture frame that was on the corner table of her room. She never used the table
to study; all she used it for was to collect things on it. All the junk that she wanted to
keep but she didn’t know where to put it. She was so used to having million of papers and
thing on the table that she never looked at the picture. In the picture there was a tall boy.
He looked happy; a big smile showed his teeth. His name was Mark. Mark was one of the
tallest boys of the senior class. He was a good-looking teenager, a good athlete, and had
one of the most perfect smiles in the entire high school. But what made him stand out
from the rest were his eyes. He had unique green, almond shaped, big eyes.
Annie stared at the picture for a couple of minutes before she got up. She was
tired, but she was also excited because she was going to see Mark at school. He had been
absent from school because he went to a tennis meeting and he missed two days of
school; he also was away for the rest of the weekend. That was the first weekend that
Annie didn’t see Mark since they started to hang out together. She was having a great
year with him. They were together in Math and Physics classes and they usually helped
each other.
They tried to find all the excuses that they could have to hang out. Sometimes
they said that they had to work on homework, some random days they went to have
dinner with their families, and even some days they stayed after school and Mark gave
Annie a ride home. In the beginning they were just friends; they talked about everything,
their families, hobbies, what they liked or hated, religion…. After some time they started
to feel stronger feelings, even though they didn’t want to have a relationship.
The problem was that Annie was there for a year and then she had to leave and go
back to her country. However, they couldn’t avoid it. Annie learned English really
quickly, but she kept making some little mistakes. She said ‘on love,’ and ‘esplain.’ Mark
thought that it was really funny. That was the interesting part of their relationship;
everyday they had something new to learn. They hadn’t grown up in the same country,
and they had a different culture. For that reason, they decided that they were going to
follow their hearts. Mark liked to tease Annie with her mistakes. Mark didn’t have any
idea about Annie´s language because Italian wasn’t a really important language. He could
take Spanish, German, or French at school, but no one could teach him Italian. Annie was
clear about something; she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but that was
impossible. That´s why she decided that she was going to enjoy the time she had left and
spend the most time possible with Mark.
Annie realizes that she cannot be happy until her situation changes. She doesn’t
feel brave enough, but she needs to talk to someone. She cannot hold everything inside of
her. The person that she can trust the most is her older sister, Sally. She sees Sally every
Friday. Years ago they decided that they had to see each other at least once a week.
Because of Annie’s state of mind, she hasn’t had lunch with her sister for six weeks.
They always go to the same Italian restaurant, a little pizzeria situated in one of the most
beautiful places of Florence, the city where they live. After ordering their food, Annie
starts talking.
“What would you do if you have to make a decision, but you know that the
decision that you make would hurt a lot of people that you love and would make you the
happiest person at the same time?” Annie says, sounding confused. She doesn’t want to
tell anything about Mark to Sally.
“Annie, I have been worried about you lately. You don’t look happy; you don’t
have any plans for your future. What are you thinking to do after you leave college? You
don’t have a lot of time left and you should stop thinking about the others and look into
yourself.” Sally sounds sure of herself. She doesn’t know her sister’s problem, but she
knows that Annie needs her help and she is there to offer it.
“I am sorry for not telling you what my problem is. Thank you for being worried.
That means a lot to me. I only need a little bit of time to look at myself and make a
decision. I am going to follow your advice. Thank you, Sally.”
They have a good time together. Annie doesn’t remember the last time she has
had fun talking to someone. Her sister means a lot to her and Annie feels hopeful again.
When Annie gets to her house she starts to look for a job. She sits down with the
computer. She spends hours and hours, but she doesn’t find anything that she really likes.
While she is in front of the computer, she remembers something that Mark told her once:
“I’d rather do something that I like than something that I don’t love.”
Annie has refused to think about Mark for two years. She thinks that forgetting
him and the year that they spent together would help her in her life back to Italy. She
needs to focus on her professional career. She has to study and forget all her dreams,
because she knows that none would ever come true. But she didn’t know that she was
going to be miserable making such a decision. After talking to her sister, she starts
opening her mind, looking to other solutions, and thinking about Mark again. For two
years she has never been able to see or do anything that would remind her about Mark
and their great moments. But at this point, she feels brave enough to do so.
She goes to her room. Behind her bed she has some boxes with memories. Each
box is labeled. Her eyes go through all of them looking for one. She reads them out loud,
‘Beach memories,’ ‘High School projects,’ ‘College applications,’ ‘United States
memories,’ ‘Family pictures…’ ‘United States memories.’ The second time she says that
one, she has a different voice; her heart starts to beat rapidly. She exactly remembers
everything she has in that box. She could never forget a second spent in the United States.
Each day was a day full of surprises, a new adventure, something different to live. Annie
starts to take the stuff out of the box. She has a bunch of maps from the cities that she
visited, some Christmas presents, birthday cards, notes, and an envelope with pictures.
She opens the envelope nervously, slowly. She remembers each one of the pictures that
she has there. They are not simple pictures; each one reminds her of a different whole
story that she lived. She knows that everything actually happened, and she feels that it
was real, part of her. She cannot avoid it anymore. She has some pictures with her
friends, her host family, a couple pictures of beautiful cities and places that she visited,
and many pictures with Mark. She keeps looking at them. Why did she let this happen?
She was forcing herself to forget something or someone that was going to be part of
herself for her entire life. For a moment she hates herself. But she is ready to change; she
is ready to be happy. She only has to wait for the right moment.
“You know that I love you, right?” Mark said. He didn’t say it loud. He was
almost whispering. They were really close so Annie heard it easily.
“Yes, I do…” She also whispered.
After a pause of uncomfortable silence, Mark continued, “I don’t want you to
leave. You only have four months left and I am worried about the future, our future. I
can’t help it. I think about this every day. It is really hard to get to sleep every night. I
hope to feel better talking to you about it.”
“What do you want me to say? I feel the same as you do. We have talked about
this before. We are going to try, of course, but we don’t know how everything is going to
end.” Annie talked honestly.
“Please, don’t say that word, end. We are not going to have an end. Right?” Mark
was confused.
“Don’t get confused. By end I mean a resolution. How is this going to be
resolved? I just don’t know….”
“What I know is that I would never be able to move to Italy. I don’t know a word,
plus my parents…they would never support me with this idea. They want me to be
successful and go to college here in America. Believe me, I wish I could leave everything
right now and run away with you, because you are everything to me. I also wish my
parents were like yours. They would let you go.”
“Are you saying that this depends only on me? Do you think that it is that easy? I
guess it is extremely easy to say: hey, leave everything you have for me because I cannot
do it for you, but don’t worry, I still love you.” Annie started to raise her voice.
“Please, don’t say that. You just misunderstood. I have just told you that I would
leave everything I have for you because you are everything to me, but the situation does
not let me do it.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry. I always get frustrated with this. It is going to suck.”
“If you decide to come back here to live with me, I promise you that no one will
ever love you as much as I will. And I will make you the happiest person in the world.”
Annie didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t promise that. She wished everything were
easier. She knew that if she was supposed to spend her life with Mark, time would tell.
But she would have to wait.
Two months haves passed since she opened the box. She has been thinking about
writing Mark an email. She hasn’t talked to him for two years since she decided to call
him and tell him that it wasn’t working. She literally broke his heart and hers at the same
time. But she was not coming back to live with him. That was for sure, or what she tried
to convince herself of. She told him that she didn’t want to talk to him anymore. It was
the best solution for both. She had to forget him.
The box and the pictures have given her a new solution for her life. She knows
that no one else can make her happy. However, she doesn’t know if he is going to forgive
her. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to her, maybe he forgot Annie, or he is dating
someone else. But Annie knows that if she doesn’t try, she is going to regret it the rest of
her life.
Dear Mark,
Probably you are wondering why I am writing you right now. Yesterday I was
cleaning up my room and I found a box where I had all my stuff from United States, our
pictures and stuff…you know. I just wanted to know if everything is going well. What are
you up to? Last time I talked to you, you were still at college, but I am sure that you are
done with school by now. I bet you have a great job. I really don’t know if you are mad at
me. Maybe you don’t even want to answer me back. And you don’t have to, but it would
make me really happy to hear from you.
Yours,
Annie
Annie decides to go for a run. She doesn’t want to stay in front of the computer
wanting to see Mark’s name in her inbox. She is not even sure if Mark is going to answer
her.
After running, she goes home. She still doesn’t want to check her email. She calls
one of her friends to go out for dinner. She doesn’t want to be at home.
When Annie wakes up the next morning, she cannot move. She drank so much the
night before that she doesn’t even remember when she got home or how. She remembers
that she had a lot of fun, but now she has a huge headache. For a couple of hours she
doesn’t even think about Mark or the email. When she finally gets up, she goes to the
kitchen. She is really thirsty, but she doesn’t want to drink anything. She feels like
throwing up.
When she turns around, she sees her computer. Suddenly she thinks about Mark
and the email. She moves really slowly and turns the computer on. She cannot believe it.
Mark has answered her. She starts reading it.
Dear Annie,
I am so glad you wrote me. I really wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t know how. I
remember that you said you didn’t want to talk to me anymore and you also wanted to
forget me…
Annie is feeling really bad; she stops reading the email and runs to the bathroom.
She wishes she hadn’t drunk the day before. She can’t wait to read the rest of the email.
She is really excited but she really feels miserable. With all the energy she has left, Annie
goes to the kitchen; she takes one of her medicines and goes back to the computer.
…I know that you made a decision and I am not going to change anything. I only
want you to know that no matter how much time passes, three, five, ten years, I would
never forget you. I will never be “on love” with another person, because I know that you
are the one. I really miss teasing you when you “esplain” things to me or say “I am in my
way home.” I haven’t heard that for a really long time. I just want you here with me, but I
know that it is going to be impossible. Maybe you were right and I should forget you, but
it is just impossible. I still love you and I will always love you.
Yours,
Mark
Annie is anxious and nervous at the same time. She doesn’t know how her family
is going to react, but she has made a decision. It is time to follow her heart. After having
dinner with her family she is ready to tell everyone. She gets up saying that she has to tell
them something.
She doesn’t know how to start. It is not easy. She takes a deep breath and she
starts. “You all know that these couple years I haven’t been really happy. I was confused
about my future. First, I didn’t know what to study. Once at school I was better, but still
sad because of the situation with Mark. I have tried to forget him so hard. And you all
have been witnesses of that. The reality is that it is not working. When I lived in the
United States, I had the best time of my life and I owe all to him. Mark made me happy;
he taught me English and the meaning of the word ‘love.’ If I tried to forget that part of
my life, it was because I didn’t want to hurt you. It was you or him, a tough decision huh?
Now I am clear. Finally I know what I want. I love you all, but I need something else. I
need Mark with me. And the only option is moving to America.”
Annie's father gets up and leaves he doesn't even look at Annie. There was an
awkward moment lurking in the room. Annie's mother is the only that talks to Annie, "I
really don't know what to say. We are your family, and we want you with us. Your father
doesn't really understand. I know your heart is split in two places. You know we love, but
it is also clear that Mark loves you too. I can't tell you what to do, but my only advice is
to follow your heart even if it is in America." Annie's eyes start to water, and she drops
her head. She slowly looks up to see her mother now in tears. Annie walks over and
throws her arms around her mom, now knowing that her mother truly cares.
“This is going to be a long day,” Annie says when she wakes up. She is going to
take a plane to Amsterdam from Florence. She has to wait three hours in Amsterdam. At
5:45 pm, the flight to New York leaves. She cannot sleep. She called Mark´s mom a
week ago to tell her that she was going to visit them. Mark´s mom didn’t say anything to
him. It was going to be a visit and a surprise for Mark. But no one knew that a huge
surprise was coming up. This is the fifth time that Annie is going to United States. The
day is going too slow; she cannot wait to see Mark. How is he going to react? Will he
look the same? Will he have the same smile?
They should be waiting for her at the airport; Mark´s mom probably told him that
she needed a ride to the airport to pick up one of her friends that was going to spend the
weekend with them. She told Mark that her friend had gone to Europe for a vacation and
she was coming to visit them from Amsterdam, the last place where she was.
The plane should land in five minutes. Annie imagines Mark in the airport.
Maybe he is tired and he wants to go home because the plane is an hour delayed.
Annie finally gets to the waiting room, where Mark and his mom have been
waiting. Annie can read Mark´s mind, the moment she spots her long-lost love, because
she feels the same way. They get closer and Annie runs into his arms. Both are crying.
Annie has never felt this happy before. Now she knows that she was right. She will never
regret what she just did, she will never regret leaving her family and everything she had
because she wasn’t happy with that.
“I really don’t know what to say. I am surprised. Seriously, you don’t know how
much I love you. Thank you for coming to visit me. By the way, Mom, you did a really
good job. I completely believed you,” Mark says.
“So Annie, for how long are you going to be here?” Mark says, sadly.
“Well, that is something that I don’t know yet. We have to talk.” Annie smiles.
Mark looks confused. After a pause she says, “I hope you have room for someone
else…because I am not going back. I have been miserable without you. I thought that the
solution was trying to forget you, but that is impossible.” She says this crying.
With tears in his eyes, Mark says, “I have been dreaming that you came back to live with
me so many times that I don’t know if this is still a dream. I love you, Annie. I promise
that you will never regret this. I am going to make you happy.”
Annie knows that. After living the way she lived, she knows that this is what her
heart wants. She doesn’t say anything. They both know what they feel. They hug each
other; finally after all the obstacles they are together. Love has changed their lives.
Mike Feeley
Period 4
5/18/09
Short Story
Final Draft
Caguas
The alarm went off as I walked through the security terminal at 8:15 A.M.
Everyone around started staring at me with eyes like hawks, wondering what I had done.
The security guard pulled me off to the side into a small room. I was at the Philadelphia
airport with eight kids total, including me, and then two adults from my church. We had
our plane to catch at 8:48. One of the adults, Tim, said with confidence, “Just go with
him, Mike. Everything will be all right. You’ll be out in a second.” His assurance made
me less nervous. However, I didn’t know why I set the alarm off.
The security guard said, “So, kid, what you got in here?”
I replied nervously, “A DVD player, Sports Illustrated, ipod, and camera.”
“That’s the problem,” the guard said. “You have to take the camera out of the
walk on bag.” I left the interrogation room relieved that it was nothing and I could get on
the plane with my seven friends and the parents from church. As I met back up with my
group I told them it was just the camera and everyone started to laugh that I didn’t know
a camera would set off the alarm. This was only the third time Id been on a plane in my
life. The only other time was when I was three years old and my family went to Disney
World and seven days later came back on a plane. My dads a pilot in the Air Force and
flys C-130s, so he is used to flying on a regular basis and someone would think that,
being his son, I would have been on a plane more often. What I didn’t know was that
setting off the metal detector at the airport was just one of the many crazy things that
would happen to me in the next seven days.
I got on the plane and was just as excited for the plane ride as going to Puerto
Rico. I made sure I got a window seat so I could look outside and see how high up we
were. It was about a two and a half hour ride, and everyone except for me decided they
were going to try and take a nap. I would’ve taken a nap, but I was too excited to even
think about sleeping. I was like a little kid the night before Christmas, waiting for Santa
and my presents. We were about five minutes away from taking off, and I dozed off into
a daydream thinking about how in two and a half hours, instead of being in the polluted
air of Philadelphia, I would be in tropical Puerto Rico where temperatures were in the
high 90s, twenty-five degrees hotter than Philly.
The plane started to move and startled me out of my daydream. We were finally
taking off. The plane started to move faster and faster, and I felt the wheels take off from
the ground as I looked out the window. Everything began to look as if it was tiny, like
ants on the ground. First I was able to see the people, but then they vanished. Suddenly,
the cars that were once bigger than me were as small as my fingertips. Once we got up to
the clouds, there was nothing interesting to see. When you look out the window, all you
see is the white clouds. After being excited to fly on the plane, my level of adrenaline
dropped and I was able to take a nap for about half the ride.
I woke up about thirty minutes before the plane was ready to land in Caguas,
Puerto Rico. I looked around to remember where I was. While I was asleep, I had a
dream about being back home, so it startled me to be flying on a plane when I woke up.
For some reason the person I was sitting next to on the plane was nowhere to be seen
when I woke up from my nap. It was an old man who looked to be in his 80s that had
disappeared. Tim, an adult from my church, came and sat next to me and started a
conversation.
“You look pretty tired there, Mike,” Tim stated.
I replied by just saying a simple “yeah.” Tim then started to talk to me about the
plane, but we were interrupted by the pilot announcing that there was going to be some
strong turbulence ahead due to the aftermath of a hurricane and a storm developing over
Puerto Rico. I didn’t think anything of it because I’ve seen the pilot say that a million
times in movies. I fastened my seatbelt as the seatbelt light came on and pulled out a
Sports Illustrated with Brett Favre on the cover with a question mark over his head. I was
tired of listening or reading about the debate whether Favre was going to return to the
NFL. The NFL was by far my favorite sport to watch because football was the only sport
I played.
I turned the pages of the magazine right past the pages about Favre and got to an
article about the Phillies, another hometown team, when suddenly the plane dropped
drastically and everyone let out a scream of horror. To make everything worse the
oxygen masks fell out onto everyone’s lap. This caused everyone to panic and get out of
their seats to stir up more chaos. I looked to my left to see a couple flight attendants
trying to hold a passenger from entering the cockpit. The man looks familiar and I just
couldn’t think who it was. He was about 6”2 and over 300 pounds. Then in the blink of
an eye, I pictured this man standing at a podium being drafted by the Philadelphia Eagles.
It was Broderick Bunkley, the Philadelphia Eagles rookie defensive tackle. Bunkley was
huge and was moving two or three flight attendants like they were little flies. The plane
was still free falling due to the turbulence, when all of a sudden it started flying more
gracefully and began to rise.
I sighed in relief that I was going to live and the plane wasn’t going to crash. The
commotion on the plane settled down but was still more than normal due to the
Philadelphia Eagle, Broderick Bunkley. Bunkley finally calmed down a little and was
sitting in a chair being held by three men. I saw a burn that looked like a vampire bite on
Bunkley’s shirt, and using common sense I figured it was a taser mark. I then noticed on
the side of one of the men restraining Broderick and saw a taser and a badge. This man
was a U.S. air marshal. He was a big African American man who was in good physical
shape. Besides the badge and taser, he looked like any normal passenger and had casual
clothes on. He made eye contact with me and started to make his way over to me, after
taking his hand off Bunkley. He said something to me and I wasn’t paying attention, so I
had to ask him to repeat himself.
“Sure,” he said impatiently. “Do you have any idea who that man I was
restraining is?”
“Yeah. Broderick Bunkley, the defensive tackle for the Eagles, right?”
“Yes. I’m going to have to talk to you someplace secure, young man.” He led me
to the cockpit and there was a room connected. I went into the room and sat on a chair as
he said to sit tight and he would inform me shortly as to what was going on. I sat in the
room for about ten minutes with a lot of things going through my mind. I had no idea
why a U.S. air marshal wanted to talk to me in a secure area. I was still day-dreaming
when the door opened and the marshal walked in. However, he wasn’t alone. He was
with a guy that I was pretty sure was Puerto Rican and looked to be very wealthy. They
started the conversation by telling me their names. The African American U.S. marshal’s
name was Tyreke, and the Puerto Rican’s name was Esteban. Then Tyreke asked if I’m
eighteen and why I’m traveling to Puerto Rico. I told him yes and that I was going on a
mission trip in Caquas with my church. They whispered something to each other and
agreed on something. Tyreke asked if I would be able to handle something pretty intense.
I told him with confidence that I definitely could. He came off as if he was pretty
confident in me and told me that what he was about to tell me was confidential and I
can’t let anyone know. I agreed and started to become curious about what I was going to
be told. Esteban came off as the person that was all about business and that this was no
joke and was a matter of national security. Tyreke then filled me in and told me that for
three years they’ve been investigating a drug cartel that had been importing drugs into the
United States. I also found out that Esteban wasn’t just a normal Puerto Rican citizen. He
was a DEA (Drug Enforcement Agency). Agent Esteban then proceeded to tell me he has
been undercover for two and a half years and was deep inside their drug organization. I
asked them both why they needed me here because I’m only a eighteen year old senior in
high school. They both said that I was their last resort and they needed me to help them
make the big bust to shutdown the whole drug organization. At first, I was nervous and I
thought there was no way I was going to do it. Then after thinking about it, I realized that
I was traveling to Puerto Rico to take part in a mission trip. I came to the conclusion that
I was going to try and help people in Caguas or I could help my country and save
millions of lives by helping to shut down a violent drug ring.
I turned to them and told them both I agreed to help them anyway I could. They
took no time and started explaining to me that since Broderick Bunkley had been in
college, he had become a big part of them importing the drugs into the U.S. They
informed me that Bunkley had a twin brother that not a lot of people knew about. His
name was Reggie and most importantly he is identical to Broderick. Since college
Broderick has been taking trips to Caguas, Puerto Rico, to “visit” his brother. The DEA
found out that it’s been more than visits and every time he visits he picks up hundreds of
thousands of dollars in cocaine. Broderick then brings it back to Philadelphia and sells it
for double what he got it for, making millions. They needed my help because they need
someone who could recognize what Broderick looks like and someone the drug ring
won’t expect to be an undercover agent. I agreed to help because I would be the last
person they expected to be a cop. I asked what I was going to tell everyone from my
church about where I was going, and they said that they would handle it and tell them I
had a family emergency. Broderick was arrested because he somehow found out that the
DEA was watching him and was with him on the plane so he was trying to get to the
cockpit to crash the plane, and get a parachute and jump off. The only problem about
arresting Broderick now was that we couldn’t get his brother unless someone went
undercover. This is why they needed me.
We came off the plane and they took me to their headquarters in Caguas where
this sting was being planned. It was brought to my attention by DEA agents that two
million dollars worth of cocaine was trying to be shipped on a regular commercial plane
like usual. We got there and right away I was being fitted for a wire and told the
procedure if anything happened. During this time Broderick was being interrogated for
any additional information that would be useful to the agents. Esteban made the call to
Broderick’s brother about getting the two million in cocaine. Reggie seemed cautious
because he couldn’t get a hold of his brother. Esteban told Reggie that he talked to
Broderick and everything was still supposed to go as planned, but Broderick wouldn’t be
able to make it. Reggie agreed to still drop it off, but he was beginning to become
suspicious.
There’s an airport in Caguas, Puerto Rico and Reggie is one of those people that
load the passengers’ luggage onto the plane. The DEA wanted me to act as the same
thing that Reggie is but to keep an eye on him. Tyreke told me that he just brought a bag
with him that was filled with cocaine and he puts it on the plane with all the other bags
and someone else just picks it up at baggage claim after they land. I thought about it and
that sounded almost foolproof. Tyreke said to just keep putting the bags onto the plane
and when I saw Reggie reach for his own bag to alert the agents. It was a rushed sting
because we couldn’t change the time the plane was leaving, and it was scheduled to get
the bags on in about ten minutes. Esteban gave me all the clothes that those workers wear
and headphones that they usually wear because it’s too loud, but mine would have a mic
connected to the DEA surveillance team. I was nervous at first, but my body was filled
with adrenaline. This was something that I was and still am considering doing after
college. I loved the rush that comes with being an undercover DEA agent. Now I got to
see how I like it before I made up my mind. Esteban and Tyreke dropped me off by the
plane where I would be loading the bags and wished me luck and said thanks for helping
them out.
I was there for about five minutes when two men came to help me do the same
job. I heard through the headphones that one of the men was Reggie. It was easy to tell
which one because the other man was about 5 feet and 10 inches and was Caucasian. I
told them my name was Rick and that I was new on the job. They both greeted me and
told me their names. I could tell that Reggie had no idea what was about to happen.
Reggie’s phone rang and I heard him say, “Don’t worry, Esteban, it will be on the plane.
You just better be there to pick it up in Philly.” This was how I knew that it was
definitely going to happen. I asked Reggie why he decided to get a job here and he
responded by telling me that he was abandoned by his father when he was only three and
his mother died when he was ten.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I responded. This tore me up inside because I felt bad for this
man and I was about to send him to prison for a long long time. I stopped feeling bad for
him when I just thought about all the lives that would be taken because of these drugs.
We started to put all the bags on the conveyer belt, and I noticed that Reggie reached
behind something and pulled out a black travel bag. He looked around for a minute, and I
whispered into the mic that something was about to happen. He put it on the belt and I
took off my jacket. This was the sign that the DEA agents came up with to show them it
was time to raid Reggie.
“Get down! Get down!” was all I heard, and no more than three seconds passed
before there were around twenty DEA agents all around Reggie. He had no idea what hit
him. I showed Tyreke the bag that I suspected had the two million worth of coke. He
pulled the bag onto a cement block and opened it. Inside was exactly what we were
looking for. This was one of the biggest international cocaine busts that the DEA had in
more than ten years. Millions of lives were saved from not having all these drugs on the
streets. I thought to myself that this was definitely what I wanted to do for the rest of my
life. I could save lives and make our country a better place by stopping criminals and
gangs trying to import drugs. I sat on a plane back to Philadelphia the next day and
thought to myself, “Maybe if I didn’t decide to help Tyreke and Esteban, then there
would be two million worth of cocaine on this plane.” I didn’t have to worry about that
anymore.
Hauser, Billy, To learn to learn
To Learn to Learn
I had always loved climbing ever since I was little. Most of the people in town didn’t like
that I, John Snyder, was good at something. Maybe it was because of my constant laidback and non- caring attitude towards life. I really don’t know why people always wanted
me to joke around and never be serious with anything. I always joked around in school
and never seemed to pay attention to the daily lessons, but for some reason I had always
been an honors student. My mom always said that I had started climbing at the age of two
when I fully climbed out of my crib and began to crawl around the house. I guess from
that day on I have been hooked on this free and open exploratory sport of climbing. I
knew that I was the best climber in the town. That’s definitely not what Elliot, the pro,
thought. Elliot had been training to be a top-notch climber for his whole life. We never
really talked in school and I never really felt threatened by his climbing. The thing that
pisses me off is that the whole school counted me out when it came to climbing. They all
looked at Elliot when it was anything to do with my life and my dreams of climbing.
My friend Jack and I decided to go climbing one day. “Jack, does Elliot seem like a jerk
to you?” I was climbing on the rocks at Simsbury State Park.
“Uhh, yeah, that kid’s full of himself.” Jack was taking the easier route to the top of
Simsbury Cliff. “ He thinks he’s all that, and a cup of piss!” We both erupted in laughter;
it was a joke we had said in Mrs. Boiler’s class almost every day. Jack normally loved to
come climbing with me because of the amazing exploration that came with it. “Everyone
thinks that kid’s great at climbing, but in reality he ain’t shit.” Jack had always supported
me and I have always supported Jack. “ All I know is that all that training and being on
the climbing team means jack shit. You got natural talent.” As I approached the peak of
the cliff, I saw that there was an awesome banyan tree for me to climb. Jack had already
reached the top of the cliff and was sitting on a log a few feet over in this dense forest. I
began to quickly to climb the tree. It was so much fun because of the immense difficulty.
I got about ten feet high and oddly slipped on what turned out to be some sap that I
couldn’t see. I plummeted straight to the ground leaving me with a sprained ankle and a
strained back.
I lay there on the ground. “Shit! It’s broken, dude.” Jack’s mom was an EMT and had
taught him some medical facts.
“ Does this hurt?” He slowly pushed my ankle back.
“Yes. Yes!”
“How about this?” He locked his hands on my ankle and swayed it side to side.
“Uhh, not really, actually, no, it doesn’t hurt.”
“ It’s just an anterior sprain of the Achilles tendon.” He was confident and I knew he was
right. His medical terminology always came out at the right times. I was so happy that I
didn’t break any bones. I had fallen right into a pile of shrubs that somewhat relieved the
impact.
“ I hope, dude.” I began to push myself up. “ Shit. My back, dude.” Jack began to push
on my back and found the spot that I had hit.
“ So that’s where it hurts, right?” I nodded. He began to feel around it. “ Dude, it’s a
minor sprain.” He felt again. “ Yeah, don’t worry about the back. That pain is as good as
gone come morning.”
I woke up the next morning and felt incredibly sore. It hurt twice as bad as it did the day
before. As I arrived at school, I remembered that there was a huge climbing competition
that very day. Jack and I were in fourth period class when we were told that the school
was having a surprise pep rally. Everyone was ecstatic, including me. As Jack and I
approached the Peterson Gymnasium, we unusually noticed that they had a huge rockclimbing wall on the center floor. Elliot, of course, was warming up and was feeling
popular due to the whole school having to watch him climb on this professional looking
wall. As talking tuned down and the pep rally started to get serious, I heard them
announce that the climbing competition would be first thing. They introduced Elliot as if
he was a rock star. He was in the first group of climbers. As the start bell rang he took off
quickly. I watched him climb. Every single move, method, and technique that he had
learned seemed so sloppy. When he made mistakes, the crowd would go crazy as if he
was going to fall and die. He was winning. I guess he was so careless and made so many
mistakes because he never free climbed. He always had a support behind him to save his
mistakes. When I would climb with Jack, I knew that we were in the wilderness and that
any mistake could mean death. Jack looked at me and said, “ Elliot does suck.”
“ Dude, I don’t know how this kid is winning. Like, what would happen if we made those
mistakes out in Simsbury,” I said.
The final climb championship rolled around, and Elliot took off quickly. He ended up
winning again. He approached the small podium that our student leadership members had
made. They handed him the microphone. “I would like to thank everyone in the school
for letting this competition grow so much. Also I would like to thank myself and my
muscles,” he chuckled.
I finally arrived home from school. Jack took the bus with me and we began to heat up
some Lean Pockets. My mom was already home and was waiting for me to tell her about
my day at school. “ Hey, Mom,” I said.
“Hey, hunny, how was your day?” She seemed to be in an amazing mood for some odd
reason.
“It was pretty fun. We had a pep rally that wasn’t planned.”
“Oh, really? That sounds fun.” Jack raised his eyebrows and looked at me.
“More like agonizing for John. He had to sit there the whole time and watch Elliot climb
like a complete idiot.” Jack knew somebody had to break the ice.
“Oh, John. What is with you and that damn kid Elliot?”
“ I don’t know. I guess I just don’t like his attitude, or maybe because he is recognized
and shit.” She shook her head. “As a matter of fact, I’m going to the school right now to
see if I can beat his time on the wall.”
“ Jonathan Snyder! You are staying home today, and you’re in no condition to climb
today. You shouldn’t even be walking after falling off of Simsbury cliff.”
“Well, sorry, I’m going.” Jack and I quickly left the house. We got to the school in less
than five minutes and walked straight into the gymnasium. As we approached the wall,
we saw that it hadn’t been moved at all since the pep rally. I told Jack to start the timer
and began to climb.
“Dude, aren’t you going to put the harness on?”
“No, harnesses are for fags.” Jack was looking up as I was confidently grasping each rock
with ease. My ankle started to feel a little better because of the adrenaline. My body was
already dripping in sweat due to the high humidity and heat that always found its way
into the gymnasium. Maybe, it was due to the five hundred sweaty students that were in
there about an hour ago that made it feel extra muggy. I reached the top quickly.
“ Dude, what the hell? You just got a 23.73.” Jack seemed happy about my time. “Just
please make it down in one piece, dude, because Elliot’s time was like a 27.”
I had always loved everything about climbing. Whether it was something impossible to
climb or something easy to climb I would always try it regardless. I believe that my
attitude towards trying anything in climbing has made me much more natural and
embracing of my true abilities and weaknesses. I was always attracted to climbing
because of how free it was, how fun it was and how much skill I had towards it, but I
have realized that it has become a part of me. As I improve in my climbing, I feel like I
am improving in my entire life. Although the danger and the risk might make some
people not like the thought of climbing, I believe that the danger makes me improve
quickly and efficiently. I had always hated Elliot for his recognition and his attitude, but
there will always be one thing that we share. Both of our hearts are partly consumed by
climbing.
I woke up the next morning and saw the blue skies and the thermometer outside that had
already reached 67 degrees. I felt amazing and must have slept for ten straight hours. I
desperately wanted to skip school and go into Simsbury. I took a perfect shower and felt
amazing. My ankle must have slept along with me that night. I walked into my mom’s
room and politely asked, “ Mom, may I please stay home today.” She was sleeping on her
stomach and looked like a zombie after her second shift that ended at 1:00 AM.
“ No, you can’t miss anymore school.” She shimmied around in her bed and let out a
huge pissed off sigh. “ How can I get that through your head, John?” I turned around and
knew there was no room for a quick bribe or fuss.
I turned around and walked towards school extra early. I wanted to climb on the wall a
little before homeroom to make the best of the situation. Jack had met me at the main
entrance of the school. We parted ways after eating a Nutri-Grain bar. I sped to the gym
hoping that Mr. Jankowski wouldn’t be there because I knew it would have been a safety
hazard if I began to climb. The doors to the gym were already opened, which was odd. It
was 57 minutes before homeroom and the doors were open. I peered into the gym and
saw that the rock wall was still in place. I was excited to climb. I walked towards the
front side of the wall and could tell that people were already there. It was Elliot. He was
all harnessed and had just begun to climb. I had never really talked to the kids that were
sitting there watching him climb. Come to think of it, I never even said a word to Elliot,
but there he was, in his own element and in his own little world.
Without preparation or harnessing, I began to do what I did best. I climbed, like I always
did. I took off on the expert wall that was right next to his. I made absolutely no mistakes
and leisurely approached his position. He began to hurry. I could see the white of his eyes
as he would periodically glare over at me. More and more people began to stop in the
gym as the word had quickly spread. After a few seconds of immense chitchat, the gym
finally erupted into people cheering. The cheering fed me to try even harder. I reached for
an extremely difficult part of the wall. As soon as my hand touched this rock, it broke and
flew down to the gymnasium floor. The kids were all there. It became almost silent. I was
hanging by the three fingers on my right hand and was slowly slipping. I yelled, “Help!”
Elliot looked over in shock and jumped over towards me. He used his harness knowledge
and techniques to fasten my belt loop on my jeans to his harness.
Elliot whispered, “ Just hold on man. Please don’t let go.” He quickly lowered us to the
bottom. I was speechless. When we both safely reached the floor he said, “ That’s what
harnesses are for dude.” He quickly got me off of his harness.
I looked Elliot in the eyes. “ Thank you, dude. You literally just saved my life.” I reached
out and gave him an embracive hug.
Elliot said, “ Now lets get the hell out of here before Mr. Jankowski catches us climbing.
Its almost time for homeroom too.” We began to walk towards the exit of the gym.
Jack followed me and said, “ You are a stupid ass.
“ Dude, I just wanted to climb and Elliot was already here, dude.”
“ Liar, you wanted to beat that kid.” Said Jack
“ I guess you could say that.” I said
“ If you were doing it for fun, you would’ve strapped in.” said Jack
“ I was eager dude.” I looked over and saw at least fifty students leaving the gym.
Elliot was approaching the door and stopped. He looked at me and asked “ Yo, where did
you learn to climb like that, anyway?” Elliot asked.
“ I’ve been doing it my whole life. I’m way more into free- climbing though.” I couldn’t
believe Elliot wasn’t this stuck up kid that I had imagined for the past year of my life. I
guess I just saw a different side of him.
“ What’s your number, so like we could climb sometime?”
It was Saturday, finally, my day to be free and to enjoy. I ran down the stairs and picked
up my phone that was on charge all night. I saw five missed calls. One of the missed calls
we’re from Elliot. Should I call him? I had no clue what to do. Right as I had made my
decision, my phone rang again. I rapidly picked it up.
“Yo.”
“Hey, what’s up man? It’s Elliot. I was just bored as hell and wanted to go to some of
your climbing spots I heard of in Simsbury.”
“ That’s where Jack and I were headed in an hour. If you want to come, we ride bikes
there, so you could meet us right at the entrance of the park.”
“That sounds sick, man. You can count me in.” I hung up the phone and immediately
called Jack to tell him the event.
Jack came over and my mom made us scrambled eggs and sausage links. I felt perfect
again. The weather was perfect. We stepped on our bikes and began the fifteen-minute
ride to Simsbury. Each pedal made the day seem that much better. With the sun rising in
our eyes, we approached the destination. There he was. Elliot was sitting on one of the
big logs that were always at the entrance of the State Park. He looked up at us. I asked, “
How long have you been here, dude? “
He replied, “ Well, I’ve been on this log for about two minutes.” He seemed like a
completely different person from the times I had seen him competing.
“Well, the trail is right here.” We locked our bikes and walked to the hardest cliff first.
We all climbed for hours. Each one of us was having a complete field day of fun. We
continued to move to different parts of cliffs that we saw and as soon as there was a
possibility to climb something we had already begun trying it out. I reached the top of the
most difficult cliff and saw Jack and Elliot talking as they both climbed. Other than some
few words here and there, most of the time nobody talked. We were each climbing with
110% of our potential. The small breeze had made it cool enough so that none of us were
sweating. I was surprised that Elliot hadn’t said anything about not wearing a harness or
about the danger of free climbing. Nobody seemed to care about who was better. We all
just climbed and climbed until we were physically depleted.
From that day on, Elliot, Jack and I all became a best-friend trio. We would climb almost
every day, weather permitting. All of our competitive nature found a different route in
our lives. Rather than letting our competitive nature make us boastful, we learned to use
it constructively. This let us all improve immensely. After a few weeks of climbing with
the trio, I finally decided to join the climbing team. Elliot and I both began to improve so
much that we both made it to the state team. Although I was still better than Elliot at
climbing, we still both had found our places and worked with our natural abilities to
make each of us strive in the sport of climbing. That year I qualified for the nationals of
climbing and began to pursue it more as a career than a free- roaming sport. I thanked
Elliot for showing me a different side of climbing and being the spark towards my
improvement. Elliot also was thankful for all of the constructive tips and habits I showed
him through our friendship. As I look back, I now realize that grasping your surroundings
and staying focused will result in happiness.
Creative Writing
Amanda Lombardi
It was the beginning of a new school year, and Angela had been feeling lonelier
than ever. This summer had been the most heartbreaking out of any. She was always one
to stay in and relax but she didn’t intend on it being her whole summer, but I guess when
you’re in the midst of a heartbreak, you don’t really feel like doing anything other than
being alone. It had all started towards the end of her junior year, one of her tougher years.
She was dating a girl named Kate for what would have been three years in the upcoming
December of her senior year. During the years they were together, Angela always thought
she was happy with her relationship and ignored all the things that had gone wrong
because she wanted this relationship to work out more than anything. Unfortunately for
her, one bad thing after another kept happening. It seemed like things with Kate were
going downhill for a while, but Angela constantly put it off.
Her relationship with Kate ran deeper than it seemed. Not necessarily because of
how she felt about Kate, but because it was Angela’s first relationship that was capable of
lasting over three months, and not to mention her first out relationship. Coming out was
hard enough, but dating someone publicly was even harder. Of course it was Angela’s
decision to make it public because she felt like why should she hide her happiness after
wanting it for so long? Her relationship ended with Kate right before summer had begun.
Angela always had suspicions about Kate cheating because she had caught her doing it
before several times. Kate was always forgiven, until Angela reached her breaking point
the last time. When Kate and Angela met sophomore year, they were complete opposites
but as they got to know each other, they realized how alike they were in most of their
personality traits. Feelings started to unravel uncontrollably for one another, but there
was one problem. Kate had a boyfriend. She swore to Angela over and over again that
she was going to break up with him because she knew she didn’t love him. To Angela’s
dismay, it took her a year to finally break up with him. Before Kate broke up with her
boyfriend Angela got sick and tired of waiting around, promise after promise. It hadn’t
been the first time Kate led Angela on though. Kate took advantage of how much Angela
started to care for her and underestimated her intelligence. Sure, Angela wasn’t always
book smart but she had more common sense then most girls. At the beginning of Angela
and Kate’s junior year of high school, Angela had stuck around for Kate who still had not
dumped her boyfriend. Kate constantly complained about him and talked about how she
wanted to break up with him, but didn’t have the guts. Angela was used to hearing that so
she didn’t think anything of it. Angela had started getting really upset and thought maybe
she was doing something wrong that made Kate not want to date her. Maybe they weren’t
right for each other after all? Thoughts raced through Angela’s head day by day about
those kinds of things. Kate constantly told Angela to ignore those feelings and that once
her and her boyfriend were over, they would be together. She convinced her over and
over she had nothing to worry about.
Angela continued having those feelings, but no longer expressed them. It killed
her not being able to tell the person she loved about how she felt, but the more she held in
her feelings, the better things were between them because there was nothing to argue
about anymore. Kate started hanging out with Angela more than Jack and Angela loved
it, but there were still the few times Kate was with Jack and it killed Angela inside
because she knew it wasn’t just “hanging out”. It was horrible knowing Angela was
sharing the person she loved with someone else, but couldn’t stop. She was too
mesmerized by Kate’s persuasion to stay. There is no doubt Angela loved Kate more than
Kate loved her because of the sacrifices Angela was willing to make that Kate was not to
make things work between them. When she started holding in her feelings about Kate and
Jack it hadn’t been a problem in the beginning but as two months passed by Angela
couldn’t do it anymore. It was like a switch went off in her brain. “If she really loves me
like she says she does, and doesn’t love him, what is taking her so fucking long?”. When
she decided to verbalize it to Kate, she just didn’t seem to grasp it. “I do love you, I just
don’t have the guts to dump him.” She would say over and over.
A couple days after arguing with Kate terribly about it, Angela got an e-mail from
her friend Aubrey.
It read. “Hey Angela, well since you’re out now I was wondering if you would be
willing to give some advice. Not to me of course, but my friend Mel recently admitted
she was gay to some of her friends and just would like to talk to someone about it, and I
told her about you. Do you mind if I gave her e-mail or screen name so she has someone
to talk to?”
I felt flattered. It was something she had never done before, helping someone out
with those kinds of issues because she had only come out a year ago. She had waited
around for an e-mail that night but nothing came. She checked throughout the week but
still nothing. Finally about a month later, she got an email.
“Hey, I’m Aubrey’s friend Mel. She told me I could talk to you about the whole
coming out thing haha. Sorry if it is kind of an awkward situation talking to a stranger
like this but I think it’s cool you’re willing to do it.”
A smile spread across Angela’s face. It was going to be so nice to finally talk to
someone besides Kate about this stuff, it had never happened to her before. That night
she spoke to Kate on the phone, just like she did every night before bed, after she talked
to Jack of course.
“So my friend Aubrey told this girl Mel whose gay about me at her school, and
she wanted to confide in me about her situation with her family, friends, and girlfriend.
Isn’t that cool?” Angela said as she continued to tell her the rest of the things they talked
about.
Kate replied sternly. “Yeah that is cool. She had a girlfriend you said?”
Angela slowly said, “Yeah, why?”
“Just making sure she’s not going to end up hitting on you or trying to get in your
pants.” Kate said with a serious tone in her voice.
Angela hadn’t thought about the situation like that in the least bit until Kate
mentioned it.
“She doesn’t have intentions like that Kate, she has a girlfriend. We’ve only
talked one time don’t jump to conclusions right away like that. I barely even know the
girl.” She said in her defense.
“Barely know her? Angela you don’t know her at all you’ve talked one night. Just
be careful that’s all I’m saying, because I don’t trust this girl, or you. You let people in
way too easily and are too easy.”
Angela got quiet quickly. She hated when Kate didn’t ever try to be understanding
about her situations, or take the time to care, which happened often.
“I think I’m going to go to bed now. I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Angela said
quickly, trying to make it obvious she wanted to get off the phone as quickly as possible.
Kate could tell Angela was upset.
“What, are you pissed off at me now because I wasn’t interested in your
conversation with some random girl who probably wants you?” Kate said in a mean tone
of voice.
Angela hung up the phone without a goodbye, and waited for a text from Kate
after the call was ended. It was routine for that to happen. Whether Kate or Angela started
the fight, one of them would always end up hanging up on each other then finishing the
fight through texts, which Angela hated. She would always try to call back and finish it,
but Kate was always too stubborn to answer the phone after something like that
happened.
Like clockwork, Angela received a text, seconds after she hung up.
“I’m sorry if I was being a bitch, I just don’t want to lose you.” It said.
Angela replied. “Well you aren’t going to make me stay by acting like that,
especially on top of the fact you’re dating someone else.”
Kate responded with nothing but a sad face, and Angela wasn’t giving in. It was
complete bullshit to her that even if Mel was interested, which she wasn’t, why wouldn’t
she be able to date someone else if Kate has been for a year?
Angela continued talking to Mel despite the things Kate had to say. Angela was
finally getting a back bone and sticking up for herself. Her and Mel talked about their
relationships and everything wrong with them. It seemed as if there was more wrong then
right in the relationships for the both of them. They seemed to have a lot in common and
decided to meet up for dinner one day. They cracked jokes and told stories all throughout
dinner. Angela couldn’t remember the last time she actually felt listened to. As dinner
approached it’s end, Angela walked Mel to her car.
“Well thanks for coming out to dinner with me, I know you probably had a lot of
homework to do.” Angela muttered.
“It’s no problem really, I had a great time with you.” Mel said as she made eye
contact with Angela.
It felt so good to hear that someone liked spending time with Angela and Mel
could tell she was flattered.
“You know,” Mel started. “you deserve someone a lot better than Kate. Maybe
not someone better than Kate, but maybe she just needs to treat you how you’re supposed
to be treated.”
“Oh yeah?” Angela looked up with a sarcastic expression. ‘How exactly am I
supposed to be treated?”
As Angela reached the end of her sentence, Mel reached out to touch her hand and
replied. “You deserve someone who won’t make you upset more than happy, and you
deserve to be told your beautiful everyday.”
Angela blushed and leaned her back against Mel’s car. Mel looked down after her
statement with no reply from Angela, just a smile.
Mel headed towards the drivers seat, not knowing what to say.
“Well I better get home. My moms probably wondering where I am.” She said as
she took a step forward.
As she took a step forward, Angela reached out and grabbed Mel by her
sweatshirt, pulled her in, and kissed her. It was a soft kiss, not too intense since it was so
unexpected. When they pulled away, Mel looked stunned, but in a good way. Maybe Mel
did have intentions after all, but Angela didn’t care. It felt good to be wanted for once. It
was the first time she had kissed someone else besides Kate in a year, and it felt good.
Kate rarely ever even kissed Angela. She said it made her feel guilty because of Jack,
although she could have sex with her. It hurt Angela bad and made her self conscious, so
she stopped trying.
When Angela got home, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked to
see if there were any missed calls or messages. She had fourteen missed calls and eight
text messages, all from Kate. Kate knew that she was going out with Mel that night, so
was consistent on contacting her to make sure nothing would happen. Angela was
hesitant about calling her back because she knew she had to make up an excuse as to why
she didn’t answer the phone. She didn’t want to tell Kate they kissed because she knew
that she would freak out at her, even though she had no right to. She put off calling Kate
for about thirty minutes, then decided to call.
The phone didn’t even get through the first ring before Kate picked up.
“Why the hell haven’t you been answering my calls?! She exclaimed.
Angela was immediately racing through excuses to tell her why she hadn’t
answered. “I’m sorry, I thought it would have been rude to pick up during dinner. I mean
it was the first time I met her and everything, I didn’t want to be text messaging or on the
phone the whole time.”
Kate replied quickly. “So you saw that I kept trying to contact you and just
ignored me? That’s really nice Angela to do to your girlfriend. I would never do that to
you, I was so worried.”
Angela immediately picked out the two things wrong with that sentence. “What?
You never answer my calls when you’re with Jack, so you can’t say you’d never do that
to me because you always do that to me. Also, you’re not even my official girlfriend
Kate. You never referred to yourself as my girlfriend until I met Mel. It’s like you want
Mel to think we’re official so she can’t try anything with me.”
Kate got defensive. “You say that like you want her to try something with you! I
don’t get where all this is coming from. A simple ‘I’m sorry’ would have done.
Angela was done. She wasn’t going to argue against Kate anymore. It was time
for Angela to finally get what she deserved, and what she deserved was Mel. Angela tried
cutting off all communication with Kate, but Kate was persistent because she finally
wasn’t getting everything she wanted. Angela ignored Kate as much as she could which
was good enough for Mel. It was the beginning to a happy, and healthy relationship.
Kiera Lynch
The Tree
Conversation buzzed in Jackie Arwel’s ears like an annoying bug, its wings
beating hundreds of times a minute. He was just one of many agent wannabes sitting in
the sunny courtyard of the academy. A tall man in a black leather jacket who had just
entered the courtyard from the far end caught Jackie’s eye. The student agent’s severe
green eyes followed the newcomer as he strolled gracefully down the path, eyes scanning
the multitude of young men and women as he went. Jackie’s eyes darted to a flash of
color on the leather jacket the mysterious man was wearing. On the shoulder was a bright
red patch, in the shape of two interlocking diamonds. Jackie’s eyes narrowed slightly as
he tried to get a better look at the man. He was an agent. The red patch on his shoulder
said it all. That would explain the man’s graceful stride, the way he seemed to glide
across the ground instead of walking like the common person.
A ball of tension fell in Jackie’s stomach--the man was tall and skinny and didn’t
seem like someone one would call a legendary warrior. Jackie knew better. Beyond that
man’s placid, breakable exterior was a person who could take out a gang of bandits
without breaking a sweat. Somewhere on his person he carried a beam weapon that could
slice through the toughest metal. That was who Jack Arwel wanted to be.
“I think that’s the youngest agent, Master Iin,” someone said with a light, airy
voice. Jackie’s eyes shot to his left. How could he not have noticed someone standing
there? She was a petite young woman, with warm brown eyes and short black hair.
“He’s sort of a celebrity, in the women’s circles, anyway. They say he’s one of
the best.”
Jackie looked at the woman for another moment without saying anything, taking
in every detail. She wore light clothing for training, as they all did. She had freckles
across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones. Jackie looked away, returning his bottle
green gaze to the agent—Master Iin.
“A popular agent? I don’t know how you could do your job if everybody and their
grandmother knew your name.”
Jackie could feel the girl watching him. What did she see? The tough as nails
potential agent he wanted to be, or just a red-haired, green-eyed peasant boy who didn’t
belong in the great academy? Jackie kept his eyes glued to the agent, resisting the urge to
look back at the girl as she looked him over. Cool indifference--that was what he wished
to portray.
“I’m Liza Ulin, from Loret,” the small woman said, holding her hand out to him.
Jackie faced her, looking her straight in the eyes for a moment before taking her offered
hand.
“Jack Arwel, from Geeren. Friends call me Jackie.”
Liza Ulin gave him a small but bright smile, her teeth nearly perfect and pearly
white. Jackie fought back the urge to flinch—the contrast of the typical dark tan Loret
skin and the blinding smile was shocking.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jackie,” she said in her high, singsong voice. “I’m
sure you’re aware that we’ll soon be choosing training groups. We already have a group
of three, but we need one more. Would you mind joining us?”
Jackie followed Liza’s hand gesture and saw two guys talking animatedly to each
other a few yards away. They were the same, in one way: both were giant men, piled with
muscle. However, other than that, they looked nothing alike. One was a dark skinned man
with tightly woven dreadlocks. The other was a black haired, blue-eyed boy with beachtanned skin. Jackie figured he was also from Loret.
“The blue eyed one is Andre Valen, and the other’s Orion Forler. Andre and I
grew up together in Loret. We met Orion on the journey here. They’re both good,
trustworthy allies.”
Jackie shot a sidelong glance at Liza. Apparently she could read him better than
he had first thought-she spoke of them as trustworthy allies, and not just good people.
Just being ‘good people’ wouldn’t have impressed him in the least.
“I’ll join you, if you’d like,” Jackie said coolly, surveying the two other members
of the group. “You seem to know enough about the agents. Maybe I should pay more
attention to the gossip of women. Seems you can learn something from it.”
Liza gave a musical laugh and motioned for him to follow her, and then she
danced away, back to the two large men. Jackie followed cautiously, his eyes following
every movement the two larger men made. As Jackie came up to them, he felt like a child
looking up at two adults. He was only 5’9”, short for a man. These two both had to be at
least six feet tall. Jackie gave each a sharp nod when they introduced themselves.
In the time between then and when the first training session began, Jackie learned
a lot about his partners. Orion had grown up on one of the many coastal islands-- Jackie
had seen them before, as his hometown, Geeren, was a port city. Orion was the oldest of
four children, and his grandfather had been an agent. He wished to follow in the man’s
footsteps. Andre had grown up in Loret, born into a miner’s family. He was often teased
as a child about his father’s profession and wanted to prove his worth to his old village by
becoming a living legend. Liza had been friends with Andre since childhood, and decided
to become an agent in order to protect those like Andre from the wrath of others.
Jackie listened silently, taking in every detail. He was prepared to stubbornly
refuse to tell his own story--the reasons for his actions were his own-- but luckily the first
training session started before his partners had time to ask. Thankful for the easy escape,
Jackie followed the others to their first training mission.
An orange glow penetrated the inky darkness as Jackie crept forward from the
dense brush. Time seemed to slow as his stinging green eyes first caught the glimpse of
the flames through the thick, black smoke. The boy let out a fearful gasp as the
realization dawned on him--his house was engulfed in flames. Jackie lurched from his
crouched position in the shrubs and sprinted across the small clearing between the forest
and the burning building. He didn’t even make it halfway across when he saw them, their
faces ashen and blue. The eyes he knew so well, that used to burn with life, were glazed
and dull, staring off at nothing. A strangled cry echoed off the giant forest trees…
Jackie sat up in his bunk bullets of sweat trickling down his face. He clenched the
sheets in his fists and struggled to regain control of his breathing. He had that dream
constantly, and yet it still affected him like this. This wasn’t the way an agent reacted to
little things like a dream. Jackie snarled at himself and slammed his fist against the bed
board. He had been at the academy for months now. The tests were growing more and
more rigorous and realistic; most of the young people that had striven to get this far had
failed long before now. He was part of only six groups of trainees still left fighting their
way to the top, four to a group. Soon the graduation test would be coming upon them, and
he was still letting dreams wake him in the night? Jackie let himself fall back and stared
at the bottom of the bunk above him for a moment before closing his eyes again. Control
of his mind would come in time.
Jackie and Orion inched forward across the hard, dry riverbed. It was absolutely
silent—so far into the game, they didn’t need to speak to communicate. Hand signals and
quick looks were utilized at times, but mostly they just knew what the other person was
going to do. A few loose rocks tumbled down the canyon wall, and Jackie’s eyes scaled
the sheer cliff face, searching for the source of the disturbance. There was nothing there
that he could see, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been something moments ago. Bottle
green eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, Jackie resumed his silent trek across the dusty
red rock. Rock crunched behind him, and having a visual of Orion ahead of him, Jackie’s
mind and body went into the mode of fight or flight. His hand clutched the smooth, dark
black handle of his personal Avien hidden in the folds of his jacket. As he drew the
weapon into the open, the glowing silver beam grew out of the black handle like a ray of
sunlight breaking through the night at dawn.
Jackie swung around, his eyes meeting with the strange eyes of an enemy— a
bandit, a member of the particular group they were tracking through the canyon. As the
opposing man began to lift his own weapon--Jackie recognized it as a B-15 Phaser-Jackie flicked his wrist, disarming the man and taking off his hand in the same smooth
motion. There was no blood; the Avien blade seared the wound shut even as it was
inflicted. The bandit fell back, staring at his severed limb in shock.
“Jackie! Bogies over here!”
Jackie swung around at the sound of Orion’s deep voice echoing off the canyon
walls. Convinced the man who had attacked him wasn’t about to get up and try again,
Jackie took off toward the sound of chaos, intent on helping his partner. There were three
targets using their numbers to bear down on Orion. Hoping to even up the odds a bit,
Jackie growled and leapt into the fray, engaging the man that had been attempting to
attack Orion from behind. Thrusting the Avien blade through the gut of the man, Jackie
let his eyes quickly flicker to a large shape behind the now neutralized threat, and time
stopped. His jewel colored eyes widened in a state of blank fear and stayed glued to the
giant, gnarled tree beyond them--a lone standing giant, the only one he’d seen in the
canyon. From its barren branches hung four limp shapes, like giant misshapen pears.
Their eyes stared ahead, glassy and dead. Their bloated, blue faces stayed frozen in
expressions of peaceful rest--an eerie, misleading sight. Jackie stayed frozen in his half
crouch until he felt a thud and a sharp pain on the side of his head, then the brutal scene
faded to black.
Jackie stared at the bland beige wall, his bandaged head throbbing. He didn’t react
at all when he heard the door open and shut quietly behind him. The soft, familiar sigh of
his teacher didn’t even bring him to look away from the dull color. He could see the grey
tree, dusted in red.
“Jackie?”
He could see their lifeless eyes, still staring.
“…Jack.”
Everything, he could see it in the neutral colored wall. They had failed that
hologram mission because of that tree, those corpses. They had failed because of him.
“Jack Arwel, snap out of it.”
Jackie tore his eyes away from the wall and gave Master Iin a sidelong glance.
“Sir,” he said blandly. What else was there to say? Master Agent Nalen Iin looked
at Jackie for a long moment silently, his intense blue eyes seeming to bore into the
student agent’s mind. The silence grew until the sound of the agent’s voice almost
startled Jackie.
“What happened back there, Jack? I’ve never seen you let down your guard
before. Ever. Something spooked you back there, shook you to your core. What was it?
The tree?”
“It was nothing, sir.”
“It was obviously something…”
“I said it was nothing.”
Iin blinked in surprise at Jackie’s snarled response. The boy had never been one to
show a lot of emotion, let alone the obvious rage in his response. Master Iin looked at
Jackie for another moment before sitting back in his chair and sighing.
“All right. Don’t talk to me about it, but for your sake and the sake of your team
tell someone. Anyone. Let it out. Maybe it won’t haunt you during the real test, not quite
like it did today.”
Jackie finally turned to look his master in the face, his severe green eyes meeting
Iin’s intense blue ones.
“Yes sir.”
The evening was cool and comforting as Jackie sat in a tree above the
HoloCourse, the scene that had taken place there, only hours before, replaying in his
head. It was silent, too silent. The snap of a twig gave her away. He heard her swear
under her breath, and a small smirk slipped across his face.
“Better luck next time, Liz. Might want to avoid those dry sticks. Not the first
time they’ve given you away.”
Jackie glanced down from his spot up in a tree and found Liza looking up at him
from the ground. She quickly swung herself up into a branch close to his. Jackie turned
his eyes back to the training course.
“Not my fault you have the senses of a wolf. How am I supposed to beat that,
with or without dry sticks?”
Jackie gave an amused grunt, his eyes never leaving the course.
“Orion and Andre?”
Liza followed Jackie’s gaze down to the HoloCourse and leaned her back against
the cool tree trunk.
“Coming. Taking their time, as usual. What is it that you have to tell us anyway?”
“Something I should have told a long while ago.”
“Well then, Alpha, let’s hear it.”
Jackie followed the familiar jester’s voice to Andre, Orion only a foot or so
behind him. Andre perched himself on a rock overhang, jutting out above the cliff, and
Orion sat in the crook of the tree opposite Jackie and Liza. Jackie gave a long, shaky sigh
and closed his eyes, recalling the horrid memory.
Jackie had gone into town, in hopes of catching a glimpse of the War Barges
before they left for Orez. By the time they had gone out of sight, the sun was setting.
Jackie had the dagger his father had given him—he wasn’t worried about walking home
through the forest in the dark. He had done it hundreds of times before, after all. If only
he had known how different that night really was. It took him less than a half-hour to get
through the woods. The noise was what caught his attention first. The nine-year-old Jack
Arwel ducked into the bushes as a large group of loud rowdy men marched past, bundles
over their shoulders. They spoke of the pathetic fight their quarry had put up, and the
goods they had taken from the site. Jackie waited until their voices had faded entirely
before moving on--he knew nothing about the men, but he knew danger when he
encountered it. Whom had they hit? The only house this far out was…his own.
Jackie saw the glow of the flames before he saw them. The smoke stung his eyes
as he stared, helpless as his house crumbled under the heat. Jackie lurched from his
crouched position in the shrubs and sprinted across the small clearing between the forest
and the burning building, knowing there was nothing he could do, but not wanting to just
stand there and watch it happen. He had to try. That’s when he saw the tree-- the big,
ancient oak tree that had been there since he could remember and long before that. Four
lifeless forms hung there from thick ropes. Their faces were blue, from lack of oxygen. It
took Jackie a moment to realize who they were. There, hanging from the tree like ripe
fruit, was his entire family: mother, father, and two younger sisters. Jackie’s world
toppled on him at that moment, as his knees buckled and hit the dirt. Through hot, salty
tears Jack Arwel vowed to himself and the souls of his family that he would get revenge-he would find the people who did this and keep it from happening to others. Jackie cut his
family down and buried them alone. Then he vanished into the forest, turning and leaving
his home forever.
Jackie used the dagger to cut a chunk out of the tree between his branch and
Liza’s as he waited for some sort of response from his friends. It was a few more minutes
before Orion broke that silence.
“That’s what threw you off today then, I assume.”
Jackie turned sharp green eyes to Orion before quickly looking away again,
returning to his whittling on the tree.
“Your assumption is correct.”
“After all this time, it still burdens you so? You were nine years old, that’s a long
time to hold that inside.”
Jackie growled roughly, stabbing the tree with his blade, burying it deep into the
ancient wood.
“How could I not? Being nine only made it worse! I’m little as it is, think of how
I was when I was nine! I couldn’t fight. I couldn’t track, hell I could barely get up the
courage to wield my dagger, let alone use it in defense. I was a small, quivering, useless
lump of flesh, unable to do anything but watch my home burn and stare at the brutalized
bodies of my family. They took everything from me, those bastards. Everything.”
There was a long silence, which Jackie used to calm down. The rage and intense
pain he felt every time he even thought of his past rushed up, even as he tried to beat it
down. He felt a light touch on his arm, and his eyes snapped to his right. Liza laid her
hand on his arm, sympathy in her warm brown eyes.
“Jackie, I don’t think you’re seeing the real problem. It’s not the bandits you’re
really at war with; it’s yourself. You’re angry with yourself. You think you should have
been able to do something, to save your family and your home. The truth is, there was
nothing you could have done, Jack. You were nine. Even Master Iin wouldn’t have been
able to do anything when he was nine. I wouldn’t have, and neither would Orion or
Andre. Before you can control your feelings, you have to forgive yourself.”
Jackie looked at Liza with dismay, knowing she was right. He couldn’t have done
anything, even if he had been there. He just would have died with the others. He clenched
his eyes shut and let out a broken sob. Jack Arwel, the only survivor of the Arwel Family,
finally mourned.
Four student agents crept across the dried riverbed. Jackie was immediately on
high alert--this is where everything had started to go wrong in the test run. He held out
his arm, stopping Andre before he rounded the bend. Jackie slowly peered around the
bend, with his hand having a white-knuckle grip on his Avien. There were eight of them
sitting around their makeshift camp, talking and joking loudly. So far, he and his group
hadn’t been detected. Jackie began moving with his back tight against the canyon wall.
The others followed the unspoken command, sliding silently forward against the rock
face.
One of the bandits managed to catch a quick glimpse of movement in the
darkness, and the group of eight stood, phasers drawn, scanning the darkness with their
dark, cold eyes. The four agents activated their Aviens, and the battle began. Bandits
fired their phasers, and the agents blocked the shots with their Avien blades, rushing
forward at one time, in one, smooth movement. A shot hit Jackie’s arm and jerked him
sideways, and that’s when it appeared-the tree, the tree with the lifeless bodies hanging
from its branches. Jackie turned away, watching as his partners finished the last of the
targets. That hologram family was not his. This was not his house or the bandits that
caused him so much pain. There was nothing he could do about the past. He had to move
on to his future, and let his pain settle. Life would move on, with or without him. He had
to let it all go.
Jackie looked at his peers, and then at their teacher. They were the only team to
survive the last challenge: Andre, Orion, Liza, and himself. Only four of them had
survived the rigorous training, the constant testing and deadly challenges. From hologram
matches to true battles, they had prevailed. Orion glanced at him and winked as they all
powered on their Aviens. The beams glowed brightly, and the air seemed to sizzle around
them. Weapons of ancient power, as Master Iin had said. Jackie looked at Master Iin as
he went through the motions of the ‘graduation’ ceremony. The Master Agent laid out
four jackets, the jackets of Agents. Jackie looked at the one he knew was his.
The jacket was tough, black leather, with only the red, hard leather patch on both
shoulders to mark him as an agent. He tore his eyes from the jacket and looked at the
glowing saber in his right hand. Twelve months. Had it only been twelve months ago that
he had been just an outcast? From outcast to agent. From pauper to king. His grip on the
weapon tightened. Ever since the attack, he’d been dedicated to becoming an agent, to
fighting against those who had dared to invade his home and slaughter his loved ones.
Overcoming his pain, his rage at himself, had been the hardest task. One could not be an
agent if he had a heart full of fear. That had been the way before the creation of, and
during the reign of the Empire. It was still the way now. Jackie looked at Orion, Liza, and
Andre, and stepped up to the table with them. The four new agents donned their jackets,
and their training was over.
Andrew Mariani
The Boy Who Lived in a Shed
Tommy often looked in the mirror while getting dressed. His face did not change
over the years. He kept all eleven of his school photos tucked away in his wallet to show
people at random. He used them for story material. He bragged about his youthfulness as
he pointed to each photo. Tommy loved telling stories and was really good at it, but the
problem was nobody wanted to listen. Tommy buttoned his jeans. He wore kid size jeans
because other jeans were too big for his thin waist. He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short. He
tried to comb down his hair that was mangled and red, and it almost looked like it
belonged on a doll. He quickly put his bland shirt on over his blinding white body.
During the summer days he didn’t tan or burn much; he had a year-round pale glow
similar to a bright light bulb. The sun made him brighter which he thought was awesome
but the ladies didn’t really like it. He didn’t attract many ladies, but if he did he could
probably win them over with his sweet and sensitive personality. He slipped on his retro
Chuck Taylor converses, which were very off white with the occasional dirt and grass
stain. These shoes were his prized possession, not clean but very dear to his big heart.
Tommy grabbed his cologne and sprayed himself until his scent mocked an old man’s.
He stole the cologne from his Dad to in order to emulate his father. He was getting old
enough for girls to notice him, but not old enough to have a job and buy cologne. He
wore a strong scent, but many of the 10th grade girls did not enjoy it. Tommy took one
last glance into the mirror and was off to school.
Tommy was often excited for school. Just like every other high school student he
would rather be doing something else, but school didn’t bug him that much. Today was
the day that everyone found out the parts for the school’s play, Spiderman. Tommy
auditioned for Peter Parker, the lead role. He quickly jumped off the bus and scurried to
the auditorium. It was no short walk to the auditorium. There were a lot of distractions
along the way. He loved to stop and tell his friends about his latest and craziest ideas that
made no sense what so ever. Today, he stopped to tell his friend Mike about how he
linked his hand held Game Boy to a VHS camcorder to make it accessible to a video
audio input on all TVs. Mike didn’t really comprehend any of his ideas, but he usually
shook his head in agreement and went on with his day. Tommy continued down the hall
where he passed piles of cliques. Tommy wasn’t really into cliques; he was Tommy
Lampson, every day, all the time. A shining silver wrapper caught Tommy in his pursuit
to the auditorium. He watched as everyone walked by the piece of trash. Some kicked it,
while some totally blew it off. Tommy, however, maneuvered himself through waves of
people and picked it up and threw it out because his father always told him to be a model
citizen. He finally reached the school’s auditorium, which was big and could fit over 700
people. There was a semi-circle of people around the chart barricading Tommy from
getting even a little glance. The minute bell screamed in Tommy’s ear. He didn’t have
time to look, so he ran to homeroom.
Tommy sat at his perfectly square desk, frustrated with himself for not seeing the
parts. He slowly stroked the desk with his fingers to calm himself down. A fellow play
member approached Tommy without his knowing.
“Congratulations on getting the part Tommy!” Jenny said.
“Wait a second. What did you just say?” Tommy replied.
“I want to congratulate you for getting the lead role.”
“So you are telling me I got it. You better not be pulling my leg.”
“No, no, no! I wouldn’t lie to you; you and I both have the lead roles.”
Tommy sank in his seat at the thought of getting to work with Jenny. His pale skin now
matched his bright red hair. Jenny strutted off with a lot of confidence, and she had every
right to do so. She was the prettiest girl in the school with, her straight long blond hair,
her smile that let her perfectly white teeth light up the room, and her sea-blue eyes. That
is, the Caribbean Ocean, not the NJ Ocean. Tommy sat nervously in class and started to
daydream. He could not focus; everything his teacher said about physics had no meaning.
His life had meaning elsewhere now. He saw himself acting upon the stage. The dreaded
thought came to him: what if he had a kiss scene with Jenny? He had never kissed a girl
before. Tommy forgot about it right then and there and went on with his life. He never let
drama get to him.
Tommy quietly opened his door to his house and gently kicked his shoes to the
side. Tommy’s dad, Bruce was watching sports highlights on ESPN. Tommy peered over
and saw his dad on his left and his destination, the stairs, directly in front of him. He
tiptoed by his father as he sat mesmerized by the TV. Bruce was a stern homophobic nut.
He was as manly as man can get. Many people have mistaken him for a fit Colonel
Sanders. He was basically a sport-o-holic. He loved everything about sports and hated
everything about singing, dancing, and especially acting. Tommy ran swiftly behind his
dad and up the stairs. He only made it to the second step before his slick sock slipped.
Tommy fell forward like a quick-jetting spring. He forgot all about being quiet. He
couldn’t help but laugh at himself for falling up the stairs. Bruce snapped out of his state
of trance and walked over to talk with Tommy who was giggling at the bottom of the
stairs.
“So, Tommy, how was your day?” Bruce asked.
“Oh, all right, nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Is that right? That’s not what I heard.”
“Oh yeah… I got an A on my Biology test,” Tommy said, trying to make up a
quick lie.
“That is not what I am talking about. I was on the computer today checking your
schools’ online news, and I saw your name in that stupid gay play.”
“It is probably a mistake, Dad. I am not trying out for any play.” It was not often
for Tommy to lie to his dad, nor was Bruce the most naive person in the world either.
This time, though, Bruce took the bait.
“Okay, well, that is good because I don’t want you acting in none of them damn
gay plays. Only queers act, son. And if ya do, I will get one of your brothers to kick your
little gay ass.” Tommy had four brothers, and all of them were great well-known athletes
in the county. Three of them played football while one of them was a standout hockey
player. Tommy felt very out of place. He had the coordination of a newborn baby and the
build of a weak girl.
“Dad, I am fine. I am not gay; let’s just watch some baseball or something.”
Tommy said in effort to change the subject. Both Tommy and Bruce sat down to a heated
battle in a Yankees, Red Sox game. It was the 6th inning. Tommy had no clue what was
going on and sat confused. He was not sure if they were scoring goals or getting points.
He was getting frustrated because he couldn’t even follow the faster traveling white ball.
He sat in front of the TV bored out of his mind, all in an attempt to gain his father´s
acceptance. Bruce, however, sat oblivious that Tommy was even his son. The two boys
didn’t speak for the final three innings of play.
School went by so slowly. Tommy was so anxious throughout the day for his play
rehearsal that nothing else mattered. Tommy marched into the auditorium. He was fifteen
minutes early for practice because he really wanted to get started. To his surprise, Jenny
was already there, working on her part. He approached Jenny and before he could even
think of what to say, Jenny interrupted him. “Tommy! I am so excited to work with you.”
“Wow! You are everything I ever imagined about Mary Jane,” Tommy said
without really thinking about it.
“Is that a good thing?”
Tommy got his composure under control and shot back with, “Well of course,
Mary Jane is an incredibly beautiful character. Who else would date a guy like
Spiderman?”
“Aww, Tommy, you are a real sweetheart, Thank you.” Tommy took her words to
heart and went on with the practice. The entire practice he found himself unconsciously
looking over at Jenny. He was falling for her, and he didn’t want to. He had heard stories
about Jenny during gym class, and they weren’t stories Jenny’s mom would enjoy
hearing. Tommy didn’t want her to mess with his heart. Plus, he thought she might have
had an STD or two.
Practice became a habit for Tommy. Weeks went by, and day in and day out
Tommy practiced his parts at practice and at home. He really wanted to do a good job.
Tommy often thought a lot when he sat up late looking over his parts, in his room.
Tommy was getting frustrated with his parts. He sat puzzled and wished he could go to
his father for help like he used to. This thought sparks back a memory from when he was
eight years old.
"Hey Daddy am I doing this right?" Tommy questioned his dad on how to hit the
baseball.
"Well, almost, buddy! The key is keeping your eye on the ball." Bruce pitched
Tommy another ball in a gentle underhand motion. Tommy missed again and again.
Tommy was quickly getting upset, but Bruce was there to comfort him, "Hey, it doesn't
really matter. Just try hard and have fun."
Tommy snapped out of his dream. He wanted his dad to help him like he used to.
He was confused, and he questioned his Dad's personality shift time in and time out. He
felt terrible for lying to his father, but he had to keep the lie going. He would never gain
his father's acceptance if he acted. Tommy just wished his dad would actually come and
watch him perform, and then maybe he wouldn't think it was completely gay.
At dinner one night a couple of days before the play, Tommy sat with his mom
and dad. All his other brothers and sister were grown up and off into the real world.
Tommy’s mom, Grace, knew about the play and was constantly trying to make an effort
to keep it a secret. Grace wasn’t the most organized woman in the world, and it was only
a matter of time before she let the secret slip. Tommy sat and talked like he usually did.
He went on and on about his math grade and made up some story about how he enjoyed
football in gym class. After Tommy was done, Grace unconsciously turned his way and
asked, “How was play practice today?” Tommy turned to her and just dropped his jaw.
Bruce finally caught hold of what had just happened and he went on the offense.
“Tommy, how dare you lie to me! First you act in that queer play! Then you lie to
me?”
“I am sorry, Dad.”
“I will accept no sorry here, son. If you want to talk to me or even live in this
house, you will stop acting right away.”
“But, Dad, this is what I love to do. You are just an ignorant prick.”
Bruce lifted his hand to swing, but Tommy had already run out the door. Tommy
ran, blinded by the darkness. He was deeply upset that he had disappointed his father, but
more importantly he had no clue what he was going to do. He had no true friends to go
to. Tommy had never seen his dad like this. Drops of water started to roll down Tommy’s
face. He thought the drops were tears, but it was starting to rain. The hostile wind swung
open the shed door in Tommy´s back yard. Tommy ran towards the shelter before he got
soaked. The room wasn’t really big, but it fit a lot of yard equipment. Tommy moved the
old Schwinn bikes aside. There was landscaping equipment everywhere. Tommy went
through the room and saw rakes, shovels, pickaxes, handsaws, and even oversized shears.
All of the tools were outdated with worn out wooden handles and rusty chipped iron.
Tommy organized everything to calm himself down. He left some space to place one of
his old beach chairs. The seat went back all the way to a lying position, but Tommy
found it more comfortable to set it half way. Tommy sat in the chair and dozed off to the
beat of the falling raindrops.
Morning came and Tommy woke up to the sun hitting him in the face through a
tiny crack. He jumped up and panicked, but then saw the driveway was empty. His
parents were at work. Tommy felt good and enjoyed his sleep in his new little home. The
back yard was huge and was home to three sheds. There was one giant work shed and
two little tool sheds. These sheds were not the ordinary storage sheds. Tommy and Bruce
built them. All three had windows and doors with actual turning round doorknobs.
Tommy called his friend Mike. “Hey,” Tommy said with joy in his voice.
“Why the hell are you calling me? I am in school, you idiot.”
“Oh, well, I forgot, but anyway, guess what I am going to do.”
“Make it quick before I get caught using my phone.”
“I am going to make my shed into my own little shack.”
“Tommy, are you on drugs?”
“Absolutely not, I just want some freedom,” Tommy said trying to make up a lie.
“Well, suit yourself; nothing I say will change your mind,” Mike said with
basically no sympathy whatsoever.
“All right! Ciao!” Tommy hung up the phone and went to work. It was only nine
o’clock; he had seven hours to work his magic. First, he started by clearing out all the
tools from one shed. Then he transferred them to his neighboring shed. His work was
organized at first, but after awhile he just started to throw stuff into the junk shed.
Tommy looked at the floor and saw piles of grass and dirt scattered around his new
house. He grabbed a broom and gave it a quick sweep. Tommy had a free laying orange
carpet in his room. He ran into his room and tightly rolled it. He put it over his shoulder
and transported it into his shed. Tommy sat in his naked shed and saw that it desperately
needed furniture. For the next three hours Tommy worked like a machine. He didn’t stop
for food or even to use to bathroom. Things came together and Tommy was extremely
impressed with his creation. His work was done. The shed that his father and he put up
was made into a complete small bed room. It had electricity because years ago Bruce
taught Tommy how to run hard wire through walls. He put in drywall, a Futon, a radio, a
TV with a DVD player, and he even hung up some of his artwork. Tommy took a peek at
his phone to see what time it was. It was only 3:30, and he had enough time to get to
school for play practice. He strapped on his helmet and rode his motor scooter to school
for the final dress rehearsal for the play tomorrow.
“Tommy, you are going to knock the crowd dead tonight,” Jenny said.
“Why would I want to kill the crowd?” Tommy replied.
“Oh Tommy, I am so glad I got the chance to work with you.”
“It was a pleasure to work with you too, Mademoiselle,” Tommy said with a slick
wink. Tonight was a big night for him, but it was an experience he could only enjoy by
himself. Bruce and Grace never came to see Tommy perform. The play went according to
plan. Everything fell into place. Tommy swung around the stage singing and dancing.
Jenny followed his every move. They made a great team. Tommy occasionally peered out
into the crowd, but there was no sign of Mom or Dad. He never really got the chance to
kiss Jenny during practice. When the time came Jenny took the lead and planted one right
on Tommy. Tommy was proud of himself for not missing. Jenny, however, quickly
pulled back and left, what looked like, both of them wanting more. Tommy didn’t know
if she was acting very well or if she was serious. The curtains fell, and the play was over.
Spiderman saved the day and kissed his girl. Tommy and Jenny both went out to bow. As
the crowd cheered, Jenny looked over at Tommy and whispered, “Can we go back to
your place?”
“Uuuuh, what are you talking about?”
“You know, kind-a finish what we started.”
“OH! well… I sort of can’t.” Tommy thought to himself that if she knew he was
living in a shed, she would never do anything with him.
“Well… Why not?”
“I got kicked out of my house.” Tommy didn’t want to ruin things but he wanted
to be truthful with Jenny.
“So… where are you staying?”
“For now I am living in my shed. I made it into a little house,” Tommy said with
hesitation in his voice.
“Wow! That makes things a heck of a lot easier.”
“What exactly are you talking about?
Jenny reached out and put her hand on Tommy shoulder. Tommy forehead started
to suddenly sweat, “Just go home… ” Jenny said with a wink.
Tommy was getting ready to spend his third night out in the shed. He was about
to open his shed door when his mother caught him off guard from behind.
“Tommy… ummm… What have you been doing?” Grace said in a confused
voice.
“Well, I am being happy.”
“Well, your father isn´t going to be very happy.”
“I… I… just need some time alone.” Tommy said as he slammed the door shut
behind him.
Tommy lolled on his futon for about 30 minutes as he listened to his radio and
thought about Jenny. In his mind he pictured her dancing around the stage. He heard her
voice sing his name, “Tommy….Tommy what the hell are you doing?” Tommy then
realized that this was no dream. He quickly shot up to answer the door.
“Wow, this place is really nice. How did you do this?” Jenny asked.
“Well I, was bored and the rest is just history, you know.”
“All right… sooo…can I come in?” Jenny said with a plastered on smile.
“Oh, yeah, yes, of course. Come in, please!” Tommy opened the door and
gestured her to get comfortable.
“Thanks, Hun, you’re a doll.”
“I am no doll. I am Siderman!”
“Is that right? What special powers do you have?”
“I have spidy senses, and I can sense when a dangerous moment is getting ready
to happen.”
Jenny was done with the cheesy role play and almost tackled Tommy. Jenny
didn’t waste anytime. She got right to it. She kissed Tommy again, but this time she
didn’t hold anything in. She planted a long passionate one right on him. Tommy was not
experienced at all, but Jenny didn’t really care. She wanted him, so she took the lead.
Jenny didn’t hesitate and took her own shirt off without hesitation. Tommy never saw a
girl naked before and was surprised at first, but he quickly learned to get used to it. He
was really enjoying himself. He found himself learning very quickly. Somehow, Tommy
lost his shirt without having any idea of how it had happened. He was getting more
confidence and was ready to round the bases. He remembered seeing some guy
unbuttoning his pants in some movie. He didn't know the title, but followed and started to
unbutton his pant. The zipper´s teeth slowly detached one by one. Tommy was ready
release his man hood. He gave Jenny a quick look and she was shaking her head up and
down in agreement. Tommy was taking too long so Jenny started take off his pants. The
two of them look at each other now completely naked. Jenny´s hand started to head down
south as, the door quickly swung open. Tommy looked up and saw his dad with a
shocked look on his face. There was a moment of awkwardness in the room. Tommy
quickly covered up to hide himself in shame from his dad. Bruce nodded his head and
said, “Now that’s my boy! Thank God you aren’t gay!” He shut the shed door and walked
back inside with a smile on his face.
The following morning Tommy rolled over and saw Jenny asleep next to him on
his futon. He thought it was a dream. Tommy nudged Jenny to make sure she was really
there. She rolled over with a smile on her face. Tommy was excited that his father was
finally proud of him. He look and Jenny and said, "Hey did you see my dad last night, he
finally accepted me."
"Tommy, are you kidding me?" Jenny barked.
"What are you talking about? After all this time my dad never accepted me. I was
worthless. I was a nobody. I just wanted him to be proud of me."
" Tommy take a good look around you. All of this...." she said as she pointed her
finger around the clean well designed room. "...You did this all by yourself. You acted all
by yourself. Your dad never helped once. Now, why in God's name would you need his
acceptance?"
"Well to tell you the truth, I don't really know."
"Exactly, He just held you back from what you loved to do. You don't need that
Tommy. You got to continue to do what you love to do."
"Yeah, you are right; I got Mary Jane, who needs Bruce Lampson.”
A Perfect, Organic Circle
~~Christopher Parsons
The sun was setting now. Or was it rising? I was only conscious that I was lying
on the cold metal hood of the 1992 Ford Mustang, a black machine adorned with thick
stripes of gold rivers, seen only by a bird’s eye, down the length of the car. The icy steel
was a comfortable contrast to the desert’s summer night. Staring off into the infinite
beauty of the sky, I was mesmerized; pink flamingos swirled through orange roses, the
thorns cutting into the pollution’s flesh, spilling crimson blood across the azure
dreamscape, blending into wisps of saffron and double-helix ribbons of heliotropes and
amethysts. I had driven all day and there was practically no gas left in the tank, so I was
saving its transport until I was ready to return to sanity and have some sense of direction
and motivation. That’s all I could remember, driving, driving, and then wham! …desert
and nirvana consumed me.
I jumped off the hood of the car, trying to not lose sight of the sky’s immense
perfection, and walk to the passenger’s door; takes me a little while to fumble with the
handle but I get it open, then I fumble some more in the backseats and find the zipped up
gym bag. My hands sweat as they work with the zipper, until its intimidating teeth are
staring at me hungrily. Now I have the pair swimming through the deep waves of a
change of clothes, searching…searching. Finally, I grasp a small, glass vial—the pearl
from the sea. I also grab a plastic disposable razor and a smallish pocket mirror from out
of the bag.
I lay these treasures out on the passenger’s dashboard; I am the only passenger.
Life had gotten too much to handle back at “home.” It was time to get away—this was
the start. I watch myself through the mirror—a monster lost in a life of chaos and the
unknown—as I unscrew the top to the vial, full of what seemed to be solid milk. I pour
all of the ‘milk’ out onto the reflective surface; it’s more of a powder than milk—pixy’s
dust. My hands are rough and calloused; they work quickly and routinely helping my
body feed its craving. They struggle a bit with ripping apart the razor, separating the
plastic from the scarily sharp metal—I haven’t actually shaved in weeks. Using the razor,
I hack at the mounds of snow or pixy dust; I can’t remember what it was two seconds
ago. Now there are streaks of them across the mirror, like gunpowder running in rows
upon rows upon rows. There’s a piece of paper on the dashboard, next to my workspace,
and I snatch it hastily. At the top, it reads: New Year’s Resolutions, but that’s all that’s
written; I suppose for a fleeting moment that this is my resolution. I roll the paper up into
a long, hollow straw and lean up closer to the mirror. My fingers are shaking, but they
manage to press the roll to the edge of a row. The other end is in my nose…I breathe.
Fuck! It burns. It burns so bad—I always forget this part. But I’ve also known that
paradise only follows sacrifice, and it’s only momentary—one of the few truths of the
Bible. I move from one row to the next, barely pausing in between; use it all now, and
then there won’t be any more—but that’s exactly what I want, I want to stop—my dreams
are my reality and my reality, my dreams. It’s unbearable. That’s the plain fucking truth.
Warping out of reality again, I catch a glimpse of memory. It is a woman—my
Lady Madonna. Even the brief image in my mind’s eye instills a flooding in my face’s
eyes, traveling down across the creases in my face. She was the only one I truly ever did
love; I remember it wasn’t even that long ago—hours maybe— I tried to have her run
away with me. I thought she loved me just as much as I did her; we were perfect together.
But maybe that’s why she was screaming at me. I had truly metamorphosed into a breed
of Mr. Hyde, and I was completely conscious of this change, but I was just as much out
of control. This angel loved me so much that she couldn’t bear to see me like this— she
wouldn’t do it. I remember telling her to forget planning for the party for the next day; I
had our own champagne in the car. She thought I was insane. At this moment, I peer into
the backseat; it’s still there, unopened, with two of those red plastic cups leaning up
against it.
With this sin of artificial heaven, comes blasphemous hunger. I reach under the
passenger seat and pull out a bucket of fried chicken that I was smart enough to pick up
as I flew the corrupted society that had discreetly surrounded me—ambushed by
guerrillas that had lost their sense of individuality. Everybody was wrong, their vision of
reality so distorted. That’s why I first started doing this to myself, to see what their
problem was—but they were all born like this, or that was my understanding at least.
Humans couldn’t understand, couldn’t bring themselves to honestly understand and
accept, that reality wasn’t for them—no matter how much they manipulated their
surroundings, they could never transcend the experience of humanity in all of its
boundaries—we weren’t gods.
In the bucket of chicken is a toothbrush, a weird combination, but I figured it was
probably my doing at some point. I don’t bother with any details, the starvation is
manifesting; my stomach feels like it’s eating itself. As I eat the mediocre foodstuffs, I
look up at the sky, the magnificent colors calling to my eyes.
But instead, all that I can see is chaotic silver glints of metal scattered for eternity,
displayed on an infinite black emptiness. I am confused and I am angry. Shit! I must be
dying, this…is the end. I’m sorry for myself; I could’ve lived such a better life, I was
supposed to fix things after today. Hell was behind me, and now I’ve come full-circle. I
keep anticipating my final moment, when do I finally stop thinking—can’t be now…still
thinking. What is happening? Why is this happening!? I drop the bucket. Artificial
chicken rolls everywhere; I look down at the mess and see a snake kissing into my leg,
filling its mouth’s open cavity. Funny, I don’t recall feeling the pain that is now akin to
that of a thousand bee stings in one solitary moment. The bottom of my jeans are soaked
all the way through, but it’s sticky and…not water. There’s no water in the desert.
I’m in the desert! My heart is pounding. I look down and see a snake coiled up
next to me, a golden, shrunken serpent—a goddess come to rescue me. I look up and
realize it’s nighttime—stars strewn across the sky, all focused around a large, bullion
sphere of immense beauty. There’s fried chicken all over the ground. The passenger door
is open. What the fuck happened? I feel light headed and…there’s the smell of fresh
blood as I lay down. Maybe this is the end…if it is such, I take great comfort in knowing
that it doesn’t hurt and, well... this would be a beautiful death, a romantic ending. I smile,
and close my eyes.
*
*
*
*
I'm being pulled— ripped in two. Something is physically removing my state of
being from the comfortable gravity of my subconscious; the reality—or surreality as it
is—is summoning me. Though...I can't seem to summon my senses. All I am is a single
car in a train of thought, suspended in nothingness. If I try to see, there's only a blackness
of infinite depths...darker than fear itself, but oddly, I'm unafraid. And through my ears I
hear the soothing sounds of the ocean that would pour out of the likes of a conch shell,
grooving into the nothing, completing the ambiance. I wonder if this might be death; a
collage of pseudo-senses that deceive my sanity— though the olfaction does not seem to
be present at all, providing no further clues.
Then, almost sounding far off, there are shrieks of caw-caws. I picture hulking
beasts with ugly heads and sharp talons, balancing themselves with oblong platforms
protruding from their sides; the word for this creature eludes me. The pulling continues
and the shrieks…draw closer...
Bright light pierces the darkness and extinguishes the images running in the
darkness of my mind. The sudden contrast from dusk to dawn antagonizes my head with
spikes of sharp, red pain. My eyes zoom in and out of focus like an inexperienced
cameraman at work, but eventually my vision becomes clear and I am staring up at a
clear blue sky. My other senses focus on their familiar settings— I am staring up into this
electric blue sky and lying on my back, on the ground. There are massive vultures
circling around me keeping a short, tentative distance and soft breezes kick up the desert
sand. I lift my head to get a better hold on my surroundings and present state.
*
*
*
*
The birds scatter and begin to slowly disperse, disappointed that their breakfast
must be found elsewhere. There's an empty fried chicken bucket on its side, rolling
circles in the wind. What's left of the chicken is scattered all across the ground; it seems
the vultures don't mind feasting upon their cousins as long as the cannibalism sustains
their intentions to survive another day. My Ford is parked off to the side of the road,
straddling the blacktop and creamy sand, looking like the Angel of Death gleaming in the
hot sun. I can also see that the passenger door is completely swung open, but I can only
wonder what exactly took place from the time I left town to…now…
I decide to take further inventory and move to push myself off the ground as if to
stand. But as I go through these motions, I find an odd sensation, or lack thereof, in my
right leg. I lift my head and look down the length of my body. The bottom of my jeans
are soaked through— heavy and sticky. Instantly, the smell of blood reaches my nose and
tells all. I vaguely remember a golden snake, a probable cause for a lame, bloodied leg. I
crawl and squirm a bit to position myself next to the car, and from there, I pull myself
upright against the machine. Reality begins to take hold, thoughts are rushing through my
mind, overflowing— I can feel them overflowing out of my ears and eyes.
Champagne...in the car...better than nothing. I move quickly, panicked, and lean
over the passenger seat into the back of the car and grab the cool, glass bottle. I also grab
a shirt out of the gym bag.
Out of the car, I quickly unwrap the foil at the top of the bottle and pop the top
off. The popping echoes infinitely, ringing in my head. I take a few long swigs and set the
bottle down on the ground. The sun is so hot—I feel its rays flogging my back as I take
off my shirt and roll up my pant leg. I sit down and pour almost all that’s left of the
champagne onto my leg1 caked in blood. Using my old shirt, I spread the alcohol over
the wound and watch the blood soften and melt into the ground.
*
*
*
*
Fuck! It burns. It burns incredibly—I hadn’t anticipated this; the alcohol was
working to clean the wound. But it’s getting the job done, so I keep going. I throw the
dirtied shirt into the backseat and pull a clean, lightweight tee over my head. My leg is
still paralyzed, but I decide to try driving back the way I came to get some help.
Inside the car, I feel powerful. I make this heavy machine fly down the dirt road.
Cacti wave in the wind, pointing me back home— as I race by, they swirl into patches of
green, suspended and floating in the cyberspace all around me. As the vehicle exhausts its
supply of fuel, I seem to physically reabsorb the gasoline and let it fuel my intense
energy. Barreling down the road, I think I am getting closer and closer. I see an odd form
on the horizon—unmoving; I don’t slow down. Dust is blowing in through the window
and I blink. Suddenly the shape that was ahead of me was right before me, on the road,
and not the horizon—I swerve off the road, my heavy leg refusing to move off the pedal.
I zoom through the green, subhuman bystanders, losing the battle for control over
the vehicle’s immense power. I manage to roll my foot off the pedal and onto the floor of
the car and use my good leg to hit the brakes—swerving and tearing up tornadoes of sand
as I finally come to a stop. There’s no question the car’s a little beat up by this point, but
there wasn’t much I could do; I was probably out of gas by now anyway. I shut off the
engine and look in the rearview mirror to try and determine what that thing was on the
road. Well…curiosity killed the cat; satisfaction brought him back…I open the door and
step into the wall of settling sand.
*
*
*
*
The grainy silhouette is ahead of me. I have difficulty in trying to identify its
form. My leg is still fucked up, so I’m freaking limping across the desert over to some
piece of shit I have no clue about—brilliant. The limping makes the trek seem like an
eternity—I watch my shadow grow as the sun gently sails off, into the night. I squint for
an instant trying to will my eyes to see through the whirling sand and dimming sun, and
in an instant I am standing right before a junkyard. It’s the dirt road.
Two cars mashed together, this coagulation forms one large heap of shrapnel. I
can smell burning—rubber, leather, and a few others. Shattered glass is everywhere—just
by looking upon this catastrophe, I feel queasy with the thoughts of my arm scraping
against the damage. It looks like the end of an intense battle. The two cars collided head
on, pitted against each other; there were no skid marks. I saw no bodies from my
standpoint, so I continue to move around this awful…masterpiece.
As I turn around the trunk of one car—the one facing the direction I had been
going—I begin to hear a faint groaning. My heart rate picks up, and I walk a little faster;
this can’t be good.
Hanging out of the front, passenger door is the head and torso of some
humanoid— gender is indiscernible. I step closer tentatively and rest my hand gently on
the creature’s back—no reaction. I move around to the other side, to see its face.
*
*
*
*
It is a man. An old withered, Indian man. He’s dying; I can’t tell if he senses my
presence or not. His face is pained yet calm; he knows that he is dying—accepts it—but
cannot escape his physical binding soon enough. The poor man can barely open his eyes,
but he lifts his head in direct line with mine and begins to speak softly. There’s an
obvious, intended rhythm to his words and I realize they are incantations. As he speaks
he slowly lifts his hands up by his neck and pulls a curious pendant out of his shirt; it’s a
dreamcatcher.
I watch him move through time, slowly…deliberately. And he’s still speaking
through all this. I wonder where this man could be pulling his energy from. He pulls the
dreamcatcher up, over his head, and in one fluid motion, places it around my neck. I
don’t even flinch, accepting his endowment. But, I do realize that after kneeling for what
has got to have been twenty, long minutes, my good leg has fallen asleep.
I stand up straight, feeling the uncomfortable tingling in my leg, and try
and walk the circulation back into it. As I’m pacing, the man’s chanting is getting louder.
I look over and his hands are opened up to the sky— the sun is shining down upon
him…eerily. I’m trying to take this whole scene in, make sense of what is going on. My
damned paralyzed leg doesn’t help any as my pacing back and forth is more of a pathetic
limping.
Suddenly, the man stops.
*
*
*
*
His eyes are open now, and all at once, he slumps against the ground—dead.
Clouds swarm the sky and consume the sun. The tingling feeling that was in my leg is all
through my body—I fear what is happening; I fear the unknown.
I don’t have any idea what I’m feeling—it’s not pain, but it’s not comfortable.
Out of helplessness, I fall prostrate to the desert ground. The tingling does not let up—in
fact, it only intensifies. I close my eyes…
Suddenly, I’m not in the desert anymore.
I feel like I am awakening from a deep, enchanted slumber. I realize I am, in fact,
lying down, my face floating upwards to the surface of the shallow sky. The sun is bright
and overwhelming, but after a couple of blinks, my pupils adjust. It seems I’m still in the
desert, surrounded by the sea of green tridents and creamy grains of sand—Neptune’s
Uprising. White whirlpools adorn the sky, summoning the kings of the sea—and waves
of light crash down.
I sit up and try to grasp my present environment. First thing I notice is I’m at the
rear of my car—deep black, and eclipsing the foreground of the sky. Its passenger door is
completely ajar and there’s pieces of fried chicken scattered all around the front end.
There’s also a bottle of champagne on the ground a little further down the road.
Confused, I instinctively scratch my head, trying to dig into my memory and will it to
recall what really happened. I come up with nothing, but the next thing I feel is a lack of
feeling in my right leg. It’s stiff and heavy—immobile—and my shoes are a little bloody.
It seems that everything was a bit of a dream of sorts. The car is exactly how it
was before I had “driven” it and I vaguely remember walking easily with both legs, just
before my awakening. What of the Indian man? What of the car crash?
I decide to stand up and take further inventory, propping myself against the
foundation of the car. As I begin to leave the ground, my neck feels heavy as well, just
like my leg, but not exactly unmoving. Now standing up, leaning against the car, I try to
roll my neck around to loosen any tension in the muscles. It feels good, but that weighted
feeling is still there.
Slowly—curiously—I lift my hand to my neck, groping around for anything.
There! I feel it! There is a piece of thin cloth around my neck. When I pull gently on this
string, the weight subsides substantially. Now using both of my hands, I pull the string
around, anxiously, looking for the source.
My heart is racing…I feel clammy and pale. The weight on this string is a
pendant…a dream catcher. A perfect, organic circle intertwined magnificently with
thousands of dark dreams, ancient memories, and even condemned souls. The feathers at
the end blow in the gentle breeze and the wood and stone beads glint in the sunlight—
winking at me. I put the Indian voodoo art back around my neck and rest coolly on the
side of the car. I try to clear my mind, make sense of things. My long hair blows in the
wind. I look up to the sky, where the gods would be watching…and I wink.
Doug Rosenberg
Mr. Zervanos
When The Sun Sets
The last bell rang and all of the chairs screeched back as the kids all ran to their
yellow school busses, anxiously awaiting their arrival home to the freedom of the
weekend. The busses were full of excitement as I walked past them, starting on my long
walk home. I shouldn’t say the walk is long because it’s not. I’ve made this walk every
day after school for almost three years and by now I’m very used to the walk. Today was
somehow different; maybe it was the clouds in the sky, threatening to open up and
shower me with cold, wet rain. All of the trees lining the street looked sad today. The
normally joyful branches seemed to droop. Even the leaves looked paler than usual. It
just seemed like everything had been getting pale. I thought about what I was doing,
where I was going. Not just right now, but in life. Will I end up like my dead-beat, no
good father? Or maybe like my uncle, locked up in some prison with dirt on the floor and
cardboard flavored bread. I couldn’t help but feel like I’m destined to end up cowering in
the corner of some dark room, alone and afraid of the rest of the world. At that point I
knew that I wouldn’t ever be able to see everything as bright and cheery as I did when I
was younger. All of the hope in the world seemed to have dried up, like a once
flourishing lake struck by a drought causing it to wither and shrivel and die. I think at one
point or another everyone’s been caught in a similar kind of drought, but I can’t help but
believe that no one has ever felt exactly the same, like there’s no one that I can even
relate to anymore. Maybe the happiness and hope that is missing is just hidden in plain
view, entombed in the clouds, waiting for the event of rain to come back and shine some
light on the darkness and the emptiness of our horrible human hearts. I think doctors
would agree that there’s some sort of chemical imbalance in my head, not enough
dopamine or serotonin or one of those neural transmitters that makes you feel happy, but
I don’t really want to find out. Sometimes knowing things like this make it worse, if not
just more noticeable. I can’t honestly say that I’m unhappy with my life; I couldn’t see
myself anywhere else doing anything different. I took my eyes off of the blacktop to see
where I was. I saw the old auto parts store, abandoned now because the owner couldn’t
pay the rent for his shop. I liked to look at the shop. It has always reminded me that it’s
only a few more minutes until I get home and away from the clouds that have been
stirring up my head all day. I place my eyes back on the blacktop, but there was
something obstructing my view, a small bag. I bent down to examine the bag on the
ground. There was a white pill in the bag, floating around with every miniscule
movement the bag made.
I stepped onto my front porch, the small bag still clenched in my fist. I threw open
the screen door and walked into my house. I ran my finger across the bag in my hand.
What could this be? What would it do to me? What secrets could be locked inside this
tiny, white pill? The next thing I knew the bag had been opened and I was holding the pill
between my thumb and index finger. I opened my mouth cautiously—did I really want to
take this—did I really want to find out what ‘this’ is? I guess that when it comes down to
it, any state is probably better than the state I’m in now. How bad could it really get? I
opened my mouth and popped the pill inside. With one last second thought, one last shred
of hesitance, the pill was sliding down my throat. I don’t know what it was that made me
want to take this pill. I had never taken any drugs before in my life. Even when doctors
gave me pills to take when I was sick, I would just pretend to take them and flush them
down the toilet. I always thought there would be more thought on my part, especially
when taking a mysterious pill. I sat and wondered about the possibilities of this pill, the
possibilities of an unknown chemical entering my bloodstream. After a few minutes of
thought I felt my stomach erupt into a frenzy of hunger. I had forgotten that I hadn’t eaten
lunch today.
I stood up from the couch that I had been sitting on and made my way to the
kitchen where I opened the freezer door and grabbed a box of Hot Pockets. I ripped open
the package and lazily shoved the Hot Pocket into the microwave. I waited the two
minutes until the timer dinged and opened the microwave. I took a bite of my Hot Pocket
and consequently burnt my tongue. It was too hot. I returned to the couch where I was
sitting before to watch television and enjoy my Hot Pocket. I flipped through the
hundreds of boring channels of on demand. I never understood why there were so many
channels of shit on TV. You’d think there would be at least something decent on, but
there isn’t. I managed to find some kind of kid’s cartoon and fixed my eyes on the tube in
front of me. I watched for a few minutes, maybe thirty or forty, and I realized that I didn’t
feel any different. No spiritual revelations, no feeling of calm and well being. Maybe the
pill was a placebo, a sugar pill.
The phone rang twice before I got to it. “Hello?”
“Hi, is, uh, Tim there?”
“This is me.”
“Hey, man, it’s Gerald. What’s going on?”
“Nothing, man, do you want to do something, maybe watch some TV?”
“Yeah, that sounds good, man. I’ll be over there in a few minutes.”
The phone clicked and I put it back on the receiver. Maybe Gerald could help me
to figure out what that pill was. Gerald’s always been kind of into drugs. He smokes
weed just about every day. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what it was that I took, it’ll
probably be better to not be by myself right now. I sat back down on the couch and
waited for Gerald to arrive. A character on the television started laughing, and I’m not
certain why but I did too. It seemed like the cartoons were so vivid and real that they
were popping out of the screen. Each character was standing on the television stand, but
the television wasn’t there. I let my eyes wander and they happened to fall on the wall. A
normal, ordinary wall that I’ve seen almost every day of my life. Today the wall was
strange. There were intricate patterns in the texture of the paint. The whole wall was a
huge shifting, repeating pattern.
I heard Gerald roaring down the street in his Trans Am and pulling quickly into
my driveway. After parking, Gerald shorted the joint he was smoking and stepped out of
his car. He gently closed the door and walked up to my house. Gerald knocked thrice on
the door and patiently waited for my answer.
“Hey, what’s up?” I said.
“Nothing.”
We walked down the hallway into my living room where we sat to watch TV.
“What’ve you been getting into recently?” I asked.
“Nothing, smoking, you know.”
“Yeah, that reminds me. I found this pill on my walk home today and I was
wondering if maybe you could help me to figure out what it is.”
“No problem, where is it?”
“Well that’s the problem… I took it.”
“That is a problem…. What did it look like?”
“It was small and white. There weren’t any markings on it.”
“Shit… I don’t know, man. It could be almost anything.”
“Fuck. I think I’m starting to feel weird. The paint on the wall… it keeps moving, man.
There are patterns on everything. How is this even possible?”
“That sounds like acid. You said it was a pill, though, right?”
“Yeah, a small, white pill.”
“That must have been a microdot.”
“A microdot?”
“It’s like hippy shit. Microdots are really hard to find and super potent. I’m surprised
you can still like… function.”
“Oh, yeah. I don’t know…”
“Well, how do you feel?”
I didn’t know how to respond. There was so much going on inside of my head.
Everything I looked at seemed to be in its own world. I could tell what chairs were
thinking about, somehow, and the walls were breathing. And then the patterning took
over my head. My thoughts collided and combined, twisting and distorting the words that
were being projected over the loudspeaker in my brain. My thoughts came faster than
usual. A thought would begin and halfway through another would start. Conversations
that never had and never will happen with people who I’ve never met before ran through
my mind. Had I gone crazy? Will I ever be the same again? What’s even going on?
I had forgotten all about Gerald and everything else around me. “Whoa.”
“What just happened, man?”
“I felt like I had disappeared, melted into the wall. I was a pair of eyes sticking
out from the wall, only observing, not even existing anymore. All I could do was look at
everything. The patterns on the walls, the colors dancing on the floor. I could hear what
every individual object was thinking, speaking their thoughts to me.“
“Sounds intense. I’m gonna get something to drink. Do you want anything?”
“Just some water, thanks.”
I closed my eyes and patterns took over, at first just moving lines, contracting and
expanding throughout my field of vision. Then there was grass zooming below me as if I
was in a helicopter. Then I found myself walking on the grass, the sun shining
immaculately on the grass, creating a crystal-y, sparkling wonderland. The sunlight
danced over the blades of grass, dew illuminated by the reflection of the phosphorescent
sun. I continued to walk until I came to a green balloon suspended in the air, just hanging,
waiting for someone to take it. I took hold of the balloon’s string and the balloon started
to float again. I could feel my body losing weight as the balloon lifted my feet off of the
ground and began to take me higher. I looked to the ground, hoping the jump would not
be too high to survive, and saw a chain wrapped around my ankles. I followed the path of
the chain to the ground where a girl with brown hair and eyes like the moon was
standing, holding the chain, keeping me in the atmosphere, holding me down to earth.
She never held me with my ear to the ground or let me float off like a birthday balloon
once the celebration is over, she gave me room to float while still keeping me attached to
the ground, so I had my stray dog freedom.
I sighed in relief at the thought of not being guided to a fiery death in the sun. I
heard a sound and immediately looked at the chain, expecting the worse in the situation,
and as I assumed, the chain was breaking. The metal rings were cracking, bending apart,
and I was about to be shot into a hot and fiery doom compliments of the sun. I floated and
floated and floated until everything went white and I wasn’t floating anymore. My
clothes were tattered and torn. The whiteness faded into a pink sky and an orange sun
hung above me, blistering heat encompassing my body, taking me over. I was in a
clearing in a thick forest. I could hear the sounds of animals moving, breaking sticks and
rustling leaves. I was trapped in this small opening. If I had gone in any direction I would
have certainly found myself lost. Just then a grey, furry squirrel ran into the clearing,
stopping only inches in front of my feet. “What is your name?” I said, not really
expecting an answer, but looking for any kind of companionship in this wooded prison.
“Sal. My name is Sal.”
I didn’t know what to say. Squirrels don’t talk, let alone have names. “Where did
you learn how to talk?”
“I’ve always known how to talk. All animals have always known how to talk. We
choose not to talk. We choose not to be bothered by humans, for the most part.”
“Then why did you talk to me?”
“I did not. You talked to me.”
And right after Sal said that, his feet started to move and he was flying through
the air and getting bigger, transforming into a soft, sullen, bearded man. “How did you do
that?” I inquired in disbelief.
“I do not know how. There is no how. There is only what has been and what will
be done. There is no reasoning. There are only actions.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that there is no reasoning behind things that happened. You need not try
to find out why something happened. You simply must accept that what happened
happened and there is nothing that can be done to change that.”
“What’s the point then? If we have no say in what happens, then what the hell is
the point?”
“The point is that there is no point. There is life, struggle, and death. There are no
rewards for being a good person, no prizes for making the most money or making the
most women. There is only a feeling of sinking sadness in the pit of our stomachs as we
wait for the day when we can finally be finished with this wretched place. But until then
you stay alive. You content yourself with the beauty of life, a beauty you have the option
to see or ignore.”
And before I had time to say anything back, he vanished, and I was alone again. I
fell to my knees and slammed my head against the soft, warm grass. I was lost, confused,
and alone in a place I’d never been to. After pulling myself together I decided to take my
chances walking. I could stay here, but either way I’ll die out here. I might as well try to
get somewhere. I watched the sun sink behind the mass of trees and leaves, browns and
greens, and headed north-- at least I think it was north-- through the thick cover of
ancient foliage. I passed trees with faces, eyes blinking and mouths chewing, trees full of
life. The sun had set by now and the detail was draining quickly from the forest. The
ground started to blend with the sky and leave behind a still, petrified blackness. I walked
and walked, straight on a path that was never there to begin with. It seemed like hours
had passed when I saw a light shining in the not-too-far distance. Discomposed, I ran to
the light
with all of the strength left in my body. I approached the light ecstatically, and upon my
arrival the light was lifted into the air by a gust of wind and letters were displayed in an
organized order similar to a sentence. I stared into the sky and the words “what do you
see” were burned into my bulging pupils and taken away again by the wind. I considered
the words in the sky and honestly thought about what I saw. The truth is that I couldn’t
see anything at all. Nothing.
Behind me a twig snapped with a loud crack that nearly caused my bones to
break. I whipped around to find the cause of the sound and saw a man standing in a bush
with a dog. The man was smiling. His dog’s tail was wagging. I made my way over to the
man and at three feet away he lifted his hand.
“I cannot allow you to come any closer.”
I stopped my feet in the exact spot they were in when he said the words and he stepped
out from his leafed castle and stepped in my direction.
“Who are you?” he said.
“Tim. And may I ask who you are?”
“I am no one. I make all of the rules here, and the rules are that there are no rules.
Everyone here is to be as free as they desire. This is Encephalon. Here you are welcome
to stay for as long as you please.”
“Everyone here...? There’s no one here but you and me.”
“Well, who else is there? I certainly don’t believe that there is anyone else. I have been
here my whole life by myself, waiting for your arrival.”
“How do you know who I am? How long have you been waiting for me?”
“I have been waiting a very long time. You see, I am you. And you are me, although
you don’t know it yet. I have been here since the dawn of your existence. I have waited
for you through all of your years. I’m the one who speaks to you when you are alone. I’m
the one who makes you do all of those things you got in trouble for in your life, all of the
things that made you do the things you did to get here. I am your entire life, as you are
mine. I want you to know that everything is going to be okay. After all, when the sun sets
it has nothing else to do but rise.”
And as the words left his lips a huge golden arch rose above what appeared to be the
earth. The sun was rising and there the earth lay, undressing itself, standing naked and
true for my eyes to see. I still don’t know what it was, but I felt as though all of the
secrets of the world were revealed to me. All of the truths of the world, as they are, were
displayed for me to see. The suit and tie businessman with a fat pocket and a grim face
would laugh if he knew what I had just learned.
“All of the world is yours to keep. Truth is out there, waiting in the shadows for you.
All you need to know is that being lost is the best way to get found.”
My eyes shot open to Gerald sitting on the couch, glued to the television set.
“Gerald,” I said.
“What? Oh shit, I thought you were out, dude. I guess you closed your eyes, and then I
don’t even know. You were there for like two hours. I’ve been bored out of my mind,
dude. But anyway, what’s going on with you?”
I told him about everything that had happened. I went into every detail, describing
every place and everything I saw there. I told him about the girl with the chain and the
talking squirrel. He sat there and nodded his head and laughed a little as I told him all of
this. He was a good listener. We discussed what had happened thoroughly, being careful
to comb through every detail and find its meaning. According to Gerald, sometimes even
seemingly irrelevant details are key to interpreting a trip. I guess our brains work like
that, showing us the tip of an iceberg, revealing only a subtle hint at what the full
meaning may be. Everything seemed to have fallen back into place. I walked outside with
Gerald, to his car and watched him drive away as I stood in my gravel driveway
wondering what had happened when I was inside. Now the trees were bright and cheery,
a deep green flushed the leaves and the world had sprung back to life.
Jared Tindall
I woke up and saw the blue sky spotted with clouds that looked like apostrophes and
other odd shapes. It took me a moment to remember where I was; I was on Deer Island,
and I was shipwrecked. I should probably start off with how I got in this position. It all
started when I was visiting a couple I knew in school. They lived in a town called
Huntsville, and they were high school sweethearts. All was going well when we decided
to go on a weeklong ocean voyage on the Pacific. For the first couple of days everything
was just fantastic. The company was good, the weather couldn’t have been better, and we
were having a blast. Then, out of nowhere, a storm appeared. It was ferocious, throwing
us all about the boat and scaring the crap out of us. The last night I remember on the boat
was spent in fear. Right before we were going to try and eat, the wife of the couple was
thrown against a railing and broke a bone in her arm. Later that night I was at the steering
wheel when a huge wave came up. The color left my face as I was tossed overboard like
a rag doll. Immediately, I couldn’t see the boat anymore. I swam for what felt like a
hundred years and finally washed up on a sandy beach. I slept for a long time and when I
woke up it felt like I had an ambulance roaring in my head. The day passed slowly as I
explored the beach and found out I was on an island. I looked around for any sign of my
companions. The only thing I found was a tennis ball from the boat. I fell on my knees
and wept. I have never felt so scared and alone in my life. I stayed there on the beach for
three hours, drowning in my self-pity. I slowly got up. I needed to do something or else I
might die there, alone on that beach.
After three months on Deer Island, I hadn’t seen any sign of life. I had built a
home for myself and caught fish from the sea. I was lonely so I started talking to my
tennis ball. His name is Billy. I got this idea from a movie I saw before being
shipwrecked. He was my only friend. We hadn’t seen any ships, but we still had hope,
because that’s all we really had left.
Today I was bathing in a tide pool on the beach, and I heard a weird sound. It
sounded like something was slapping against a rock. I waded through the water towards
the sound. As I came around the rock, I found myself face to face with a huge shark. I
peed myself and yelled for Billy to run. The shark had been slapping against a rock trying
to get a fish. I, apparently, am far more appetizing. When he caught sight of me, he
immediately turned and started swimming for me. I, of course, started booking it. What
you must remember, however, is that I was in three to four feet of water and you can’t
really book it in that situation. Needless to say, I was going to try. While the beach was
way to far away, there was a nice rock that I was nearby. It was going to be close, the
shark was way faster than me but I was closer to the rock.
“Hold on, Billy,” I yelled. I got to the rock and hoisted myself up onto it and
looked behind me. The shark thrust its head out of the water and tried one last grab. I
wrenched myself away and the shark missed.
“That was a close one, Billy my friend,” I said breathlessly. I looked over at Billy
and saw nothing there. I yelled his name and looked frantically around. I stood up and
turned in all directions. I finally saw him floating about five feet away, right next to the
shark.
“Billy, what are you doing in the water,” I yelled. The shark swam in agitated
circles as I tried to think of a way to get Billy out of the water. I was thirty yards away
from the beach, but I wasn’t thinking of how to get there right now. I tried to reach out
and pull Billy in but the shark snapped at me and I had to retreat. The shark almost ate
Billy in his attempt to eat me, and I freaked out.
“Billy! Did you see how close that was? Get to the rock!” I screamed frantically,
not being able to comprehend losing my only companion. The shark swam around Billy
and hit him with his fin. Billy was knocked within two feet of the rock, tempting me to
reach for him. I stretched out my arm and the shark tried again. Startled, I fell into the
water. Panic flooded my mind. I looked over and saw the shark turning around to try and
formulate its attack. It had to swim around to get a good angle, and in that time I grabbed
Billy and climbed up onto the rock. I held Billy close and started laughing, disguising my
fear with the laughter. I stayed there, laying on the rock for a couple minutes, breathing
hard. I could hear the shark, splashing around, wondering how he would get his lunch.
After a while, I got up. Now that Billy was safe, I had to figure out how to get back to the
beach without being eaten.
“Hmm,” I said, wondering aloud.
“Well Billy, I think I could throw you to the beach, cause it isn’t too far away.” I looked
at the beach and then down at Billy. It was the only choice, and I couldn’t risk dropping
him trying to make a break for it. I decided to do it. It wasn’t that far and I had gotten
stronger from the hard living. I stretched my arm out a little and then tried to get myself
ready mentally. I pulled my arm back and threw Billy high into the air. My stomach
lurched as Billy flew, and my eyes widened. Billy landed on the beach with a bounce.
Luckily, he didn’t roll back into the water, but bounced up towards the top of the beach. I
sat down and started thinking of how I myself would escape. All of a sudden I got a crazy
idea.
“Hey Billy,” I yelled, “ do you think I could ride a shark?” I thought about the dangers of
hopping onto the sharks back and trying to ride it into safety. I decided that I was trapped
on an island and needed some excitement in my life. In the midst of my delirium, I forgot
about the teeth. I got ready to jump when he launched out of the water, mouth wide open.
I fell over and sat staring at all the teeth I had just seen. I now knew that jumping on the
shark was out of the question. Brought back to reality, I started thinking about how I was
really going to get back. After a long time of thinking and getting nowhere, I decided that
it was either jump or die. I would have to jump as far as I could or starve to death. So I
gathered up all my strength, fear, and jumping ability for the leap. I made the jump and it
was a good one at that. I don’t know how far, but I was in the air for a while. I landed
with a giant splash and the shark started swimming towards me.
Then we started the death race. If I won, then I survived. If he won, then he got
lunch. My prize was a little better. I could hear him getting closer, his tail splashing in the
shallow water. I started screaming, fear taking control of my body. My hand hit sand and
I started running. My strides were long and high as I tried to get to the safety of the
beach. I tripped and fell on my face in the water. I turned around expecting the jaws of
death to be there, but only saw the shark stuck in the sand. I had made it to shallow
enough water that the shark couldn’t swim anymore. I crawled up onto the beach and just
sat there, watching the shark trying to get back into deep water. It was immensely
satisfying to watch. I had defeated the shark. I didn’t think I could repeat the act, but I
had done it.
Three days after the shark adventure, I saw a ship. It was far away, but I still
jumped and yelled as loud as I could. Hope had never been so close or so far away. I ran
over to my fire and lit it up. I threw green branches on to get the smoke going. I didn’t
think it would get high enough for the boat to see, but I had to try. I ran around to get
more branches and things that would make smoke. I helped the fire for an hour but the
boat just kept going. It was sunset when I gave up. I collapsed and just started crying. All
the emotions that had been stored up from being alone, almost dying, and then almost
escaping, flooded out right now. My cries weren’t silent either. They were loud,
emotional sobs. I sat up for after a little while and thought about the last time I had cried
this much. Not since I was a child, for sure. I thought about what my friends back home
would think of a grown man crying like a child. But it didn’t matter. I had my own
society now and old rules didn’t apply anymore. It was only Billy and me. And Billy was
pretty accepting of the different things I did.
It had been eight months since I had arrived at the island and I had changed. My
hair had become long and overgrown, but I had it pulled back into a ponytail. I was
extremely tan from being out in the sun all day, and my body had become increasingly
muscular as I lived in the wilderness. The color had faded from Billy and he now was a
greenish-grey color. I had become comfortable on my island, but still hoped faintly for
rescue. I spent most of my time thinking of plans to escape, catching food, and exploring
the inner part of the jungle. During my explorations I discovered other animals on the
island. I don’t know how they got there, but some of them were big and dangerous. I had
seen crocodiles in the river, jaguars in the trees, and spiders as big as dinner plates. The
spiders scared me the most because I had always been scared of spiders. The good thing
was that the animals didn’t really come out to the beach; they mainly just stayed in the
jungle. One day when I was sitting on the beach, enjoying a particularly tasty crab, I
decided to build a raft. Now, you may be asking yourself why I didn’t do this before, and
the answer is that I was scared of dying in the ocean. I had all the materials to make a
raft, even rope, because I had found a large amount washed up on the beach. So I got to
work. I rolled fallen trees together and then tied them up with the rope. I started gathering
up food as well. I couldn’t really take meat, but I did take fruit and things to fish with.
After three weeks of hard work, I was finished. I had an eight by eight raft that had an
even possibility of success and failure. But I started out and prayed to God that if He was
up there, He would see me home.
The first day went fine, the sea was nice and breezy and I even caught some fish.
But the second day, that was when I lost sight of the island and I could see dark clouds on
the horizon. I started to have flashbacks to a night almost nine months ago, when I had
been thrown overboard. I started shaking with fear and I lay flat on the raft, holding on
for dear life. Even though the storm looked far away, I was terrified. So I stayed there, all
day like that, frequently looking up at the clouds. It wasn’t until sunset that they finally
arrived. They came with a torrent of wind and rain. The storm was just like the one on the
night I was shipwrecked. I held onto Billy tightly so he would not be lost in the storm. All
of a sudden, one of the ropes started to come loose and I dove for it. I got the rope but
Bully slipped from my hands and flew overboard. I didn’t even scream; I just looked in
shock as Billy was swallowed up forever. I stood there, holding the two ropes, and cried
out. Then the ropes started to slip, and I was brought back to reality. I tried to hold on,
but they were wrenched out off my hands. The boat fell apart instantly and I fell into the
water. I was pushed under by a wave and I couldn’t get up. I looked up and could see the
storm raging above. I kicked for the surface and tried hard not to panic. I broke the
surface and gasped for air. I looked up and got smashed in the face with one of the logs
from the raft. As I blacked out, I wondered if I would die, and that is the last thing I
remembered on the ocean.
I woke up and saw the blue sky spotted with clouds that looked like apostrophes
and other odd shapes…