At the Deli
By John C. Nichols
I sit by the window at the generic white-topped stand-alone table that seats two. I share a sandwich with the woman I adore. I look outside through the clear dual-paned window across the parking lot filled with cars. The lot is like an ocean, the cars like ships. The glass cuts off all sound from the outside where these small four-wheeled ships lie in their berths, the slips marked by painted white lines upon the hard surface of the blacktop sea.
The shops line the edge of the lot, the ocean’s shore: a shoe store, a discount clothing and wares store, and a Christian bookstore. The little people, who are like sailors, move between the shops, some with bags sauntering lazily, some without rushing madly.
Everything is in constant motion.
The sky is beginning to blacken. It is a warm day in my city, although a brief storm passes through.
A mosquito flits past, distracting me. I lose sight of the people, the sailors, the captains, each guiding their own destiny, each navigating blindly through the storms of their own lives. I turn my face away from the window, and glance across the table at the woman sitting with me.
“You can throw that away,” I tell her. She stands up with a quiet “okay” and a gentle smile. She walks to the trashcan and back. How I love her! She smiles gently at me as she sits back down. I look back out the window, and I am lost once again in my imagination.
The darkness deepens, and the people again become sailors, the blacktop an ocean, the cars, ships. They finish their business, and buy everything they think they might want. How I wish I could have what they have! I am drawn to them because of this desire. To purchase anything my heart desires! Oh, the bliss!
I see them dressed in all sorts of clothes, all of them much more extravagantly clothed than me. There are so many of them out there. If I could take the place of one of them for a moment, a day, how happy I would be! To control my own destiny….
There are too many people to notice the one person I would replace. But would anyone notice me disappearing?
A stray conversation reaches my ears. Some of the employees at the deli are having a relaxed conversation during a lull in their work. How carefree they seem to be! They have to work to live, while these sailors plunder the stores across the ocean, across the parking lot, never wondering when the next meal will come.
I cannot see anymore many of the sailors anymore. They slowly vanish, and are lost to me. But the idea of the sailors remains constant in my mind. That perception of never needing, only wanting, never being filled: this sticks to the walls of my mind.
I shift my gaze from the window, the illusion is lost. I look down at the white table, which I realize isn’t really white. It’s more of a milky off-white, yellowed slightly with age. I realize then that everything ages, even the people in the shops across the parking lot, the blacktop ocean. Even these people who need for nothing will one day die.
I glance up quickly at the deli’s counter.
No one’s there.
I look back at my date. She looks tired to me, but she looks happy. Even she can be happy when she is not like the people who buy anything just to have something.
I cast my gaze back out the window. The sailors have all left. The blacktop ocean stands empty and still. They have money, money that they spend on wealth. I long to be like them. I long to be not me.
There’s an older couple sitting to my right a few tables away, across the oak colored floors. They look content, happy even. They are together. They are like me. They need and cannot afford to want.
We finish the small $4.39 sandwich I bought for us. I feel every penny of what it cost me. It hurts every time. She holds the Styrofoam cup of water since she wanted a drink, since it saves me the little money I have.
She gives me a look that makes me think she’s sad, and my heart about breaks, but only just. And she isn’t sad.
“Are you happy,” she asks with a smile.
Can’t she see I want to be like the sailors with their ships that have four wheels cruising along the waveless blacktop, the calm ocean at fifty-five miles per hour? I don’t think she can. I’ve hid for so long that I am too good now at hiding my deepest desires from even those I love.
It’s dark now, but the deli’s light keeps the aged table alive, and the twenty-foot tall lampposts keep the blacktop sea lit, like stars shining from the heavens.
My ghost stares back at me with nearly eyeless sockets and a blurring outline. Then I realize that I am staring through the window again. There is no ghost, only my reflection. That’s who I really am, however: a ghost, a reflection, nothing more. I am hollow, I am worthless. I am unhappy.
I want to be like the sailors with money to spend in the shops. Money for goodness’ sake! It’s a marvelous thing! Do you understand? I feel that I am trying to describe a dream!
“Are you happy with a pen and paper,” she says again with a smile. No more than a heartbeat has passed since her first question. I think about what she said, and I offer her a faint almost-smile.
A pen? Some paper?
Then I remember the bookstore. Then I remember the pen in my hand, and the paper on the table in front of me. I see the words I wrote on the page. I then begin to understand that I don’t need to be like the sailors, the people who need for nothing and want everything, the people who are empty inside.
I realize that with a simple pen and a sheaf of paper I am happy, content, even filled.
For some reason, I don’t tell. Perhaps she already knows.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Welcome, Rachel Cline!
Eating Crow
by Rachel Cline (Entering 9th grade Sept. 2009)
Matthew hurled his book bag down on the floor by the front door in rage. He ran his hand through his dark brown hair, as he stood in the front hall of his house, fuming. He was too angry to deal with his mom’s lectures, so he planned to head over to Jacob Zimmerman’s house before she got home.
Matthew had been friends with Jacob since the fourth grade. Jacob strongly believed that video games were the answer to all life’s problems. Matthew didn’t always agree with this philosophy, but today was different. Today he was furious. He wanted to blow off steam by beating virtual characters to a pulp. Then, he was sure he could talk some sense into Mrs. Lesser. After all, he did have Coach Morton on his side, as well as his own father, who would surely see things his way.
Matthew ran up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. He tore the room apart searching for his newest video games, and after finding them under a pile of papers, he ran back down the stairs, games in hand, to the kitchen.
Inside the small, familiar kitchen area, Matthew crossed from the doorway to the pantry in two steps, and retrieved a jumbo bag of chips. He smiled somewhat grimly, still mad about the day, as he thought about Jacob’s addiction to potato chips – an addiction that Jacob could rarely satisfy, due to his parents being health nuts.
As Matthew turned away from the pantry he studied the bag of chips absentmindedly. When he looked up from the bag he found that his mother was standing in the opened doorway that lead into the front hall. Her arms were crossed and she was glaring up at him. Mrs. Crow was a little more than half a foot shorter than Matthew, although this wasn’t abnormal, as he was about six feet and two inches tall.
Matthew rolled his grass green eyes, crossed his arms, and leaned against the closed pantry door, awaiting the lecture he knew was coming.
“The principal called,” Mrs. Crow said simply, sighing as she walked a few steps closer to him. Matthew sighed too, and rolled his eyes again.
Of course Mrs. Lesser had called. That woman had nothing better to do with her time but snitch on Mathew.
Matthew’s mother just stood in front of him, silent. Here it comes, he thought. He had been hoping to get to Jakes house one last time before he was grounded, So much for that idea. He stood, waiting for his sentence; as if I haven’t gotten enough grief from Lesser.
“I’m not going to ground you. In fact, I’m not going to punish you at all.” Alright! Matthew thought, Getting off easy! He refrained from grinning though, afraid that it might set Mrs. Crow off, which might land him with some kind of punishment.
“The result of that little prank you pulled is enough punishment,” Matthew’s mother went on, “And after all, you’re officially an adult in a few months and it’s time you start making your own decisions, and living with the consequences. That means I won’t help you escape the punishment Mrs. Lesser has dealt out to you, and neither will your father. I think losing football is a fine punishment, considering all that’s happened.” Matthew’s virtual grin faded.
Considering what exactly, Matthew thought. I didn’t do anything to deserve loosing football. Matthew grimaced; he had been counting on his dad to help get Mrs. Lesser to see reason.
His mother continued, although Matthew was barely listening now, “If you really think running off to play video games with Jacob will fix things, then fine, go ahead.”
“Fine,” Matthew said icily. “I’ll be at Jake’s.” He maneuvered skillfully around his mom in the small kitchen and walked towards the door. Matthew just couldn’t see what the big deal was. He had pulled a harmless prank, and it had bombed. He had been caught and he agreed maybe he should get a few days detention, but loosing football, just before the big game, that was just unfair treatment. Mrs. Lesser is just bitter… this is her way of getting back at me. Matthew thought, resentfully.
“Just one question Matt.” Matthew turned slowly, to glare at his mother again.
“What?” he said curtly.
“Where on earth did you get those pigs?”
“Zach’s Granddad owns a farm. It was a piece of cake.” Matthew answered. Even through his anger, he was proud of his idea. Mrs. Crow shook her head.
“And who came up with this scheme?”
“Well that was me obviously. That’s why none of the other guys got it as bad as me. That idiot, Carter, let it slip that I was the brain behind it all.” Matthew rolled his eyes, and shook his head at the thought of that snitch, a junior looking to get in with big guys. Carter had released the pigs and was caught red handed. Then he went and squealed on everyone who had been a part of the prank.
“I don’t know what to say Matt, but this one’s on your head, don’t go blaming anyone else for what happened,”
“Yeah, whatever. I’m leaving now.”
Matthew turned around and headed for the front door, not bothering to look at his mom’s expression, which was not one of anger at his insolence, but one of sorrow and disappointment.
Swearing under his breath, Matthew climbed into his car and pulled out of the driveway. On the short drive to Jacob’s house, he thought about the day, and began cursing again. He was trying to understand why he had been punished the way he had. It was senior year; everyone he knew was pulling pranks, making marks on the school and on the minds of fellow classmates so as to not be forgotten. Matthew’s prank could have been one of the best. As it was, it had been hilarious! Watching a pig chase Principal Lesser was something no one could forget. But it would have been much sweeter to see all the chaos if he hadn’t gotten caught, and punished the way he had been.
Matthew pulled into the Zimmerman’s’ driveway. He got out of his car, slammed the door and entered the Zimmerman household, without knocking, slamming the door behind him.
Jacob got home two hours before the rest of his family on school days. He spent this time avoiding homework and playing video games. It wasn’t that Jacob was a slacker; it was just that his parents were so strict with him that he grabbed any chance to enjoy his free time doing the pointless, mind-numbing things his parents hated, such as playing video games and eating junk food.
Matthew made his way down to the den, which was located in the Zimmerman’s half finished basement. He walked through the finished area, which was used by Jacob’s ten-year-old sister as a playroom. This part of the basement was blindingly pink, the floor strewn with Barbie dolls and ponies; Mrs. Zimmerman’s doing. The woman adored and spoiled her only daughter. Matthew kept walking through the pink nightmare, kicking aside stray toys, until he got to a door on the right, at the end of the long rectangular room. He opened the door, and walked through, going from pink fuzzy carpeting, to smooth nondescript concrete flooring.
This room was the complete opposite of the one Matthew had just been in. It was a small, dark, square room. The splintering wooden support beams creaked above Matthew’s head, as he observed the familiar movie posters that plastered every inch of the brick walls. The lighting was dim, as the only light sources were coming from a lamp in one corner, and a TV screen in another. The room smelled faintly of mildew and Jacob’s favorite cheesy potato chips Jacob was sitting on an old couch, which was situated in the left hand corner of the small room, in front of the large TV. Although the couch had originally been an olive green with a floral pattern, after spending many years in the den, it was now closer to puce than any other color. To the left of the two-person couch there was a small, beat up, wooden table, piled high with empty potato chip bags, and soda cans. On the other side, there was a very large blue beanbag, given to Jacob by his younger sister, when she had decided she’d rather have a pink beanbag. Directly in front of the couch, placed against the wall, and on top of an old, two shelved bookshelf, was Jacob’s pride a glory. It was a very high tech 48” flat screen TV given to Jacob two years ago by his father. Jacob’s dad had bought it to replace an older TV, but just over a year after Mr. Zimmerman had purchased this masterpiece, a newer more improved model came out and he decided to discard this “outdated” machine, in favor of the newest version. When Matthew had told his parent’s of Jacob’s good luck they had just shook their heads in disbelief, not even being able to fathom such waste.
Matthew made his way to the messy corner in a few strides. Jacob was sitting on the very edge of the small couch, leaning so close to the TV that Matthew couldn’t understand how the pictures on the screen could look like anything more than blurs to Jacob. Matthew kicked a few stray video game cases out of the way, and flopped down on the beanbag.
“Yo.” Jacob said, too enthralled in his game to acknowledge Matthew any further.
“Hey Jake,” Matthew said, gruffly, still upset about the day. “I brought chips.” At that Jacob paused his game, giving Matthew his full attention.
“What kind?” Jacob asked. As if he really cares, Matthew thought riley, he’ll take anything he can get.
“Your favorite,” Matthew answered simply.
“Yes,” Jacob said reverently. “Hand over the cheesy goodness.” Matthew tossed the bag to Jacob. He snatched the bag out of the air, ripped it open, and began munching.
“So I heard all about what happened today,” Jacob stated in between the hand full of chips he was shoving into his mouth.
“Of course you did,” Matthew sighed. Even though Jacob went to the more expensive high school in the town this year, he still had many friends, and informants, in his old high school who kept him in the know.
“Well, I didn’t hear everything,” Jacob corrected. “I just heard you pulled a prank, and it didn’t go so well.”
“That’s the biggest understatement of the year,” Matthew said harshly. Jacob stopped shoveling chips into his mouth, and settled into the couch again. He knew when one of Matthew’s rants was coming. He un-paused his game, and began playing, with every intention of blocking Matthew out while he blew off some steam.
“So I came up with this awesome idea for a prank, right?” Matthew started. “I made it up, I figured out how to make it work. Zach Anderson and his cousin would pick three pigs up from Zach’s Granddad’s farm, we would cover them in mud, and label them ‘pig 1’ ‘pig 2’ and ‘pig 4’. Carter would let ‘em loose, they would make a mess in the school. They would cause complete chaos, and no one would be able to find ‘pig 3’. We might have even gotten time off while they searched. And nobody would ever have suspected me as the mastermind behind it all…”
Matthew trailed off, dreaming of the glory he had been so close to. Then he snapped out of his reverie, and went on with his story, “But no, that moron Allen Carter had to get caught. That wouldn’t have been so bad, him getting caught, if he had kept his mouth shut. But he had to go and squeal. He spills the entire plan, and that I’m behind it all. So I get the blame. I have to clean up the mess the pigs left behind. I get three weeks of detention. That’s not even so bad though, the other guys that were part of the prank got all that too, but I’m the only one who gets sports revoked until the end of the year. Just because I was the one who thought the thing up! I mean, sure the pigs made a mess, and Lesser got humiliated but –”
“Yeah, I heard about that,” Jacob interrupted. “Did she really get chased around the whole school by all three of the pigs?”
“Yeah man,” Matthew answered, obviously proud. Jacob whistled.
“Dude, I wish I coulda’ seen that.”
“Man, it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. She must have slipped, like, twelve times in all the mud.” Matthew beamed for a minute, but then his grin faded as he remembered his punishment once again. “But see Jake? That’s exactly my point, it was hilarious, but, Lesser was humiliated. Which is why that has to be the only reason I’m getting a bigger punishment than any of the other guys, there’s no other explanation.”
“What do you mean ‘there’s no other explanation’?” Jacob asked, obviously confused.
“I mean, the only reason I’m getting all this crap, is because it was my joke, and Lesser was personally offended by it.”
“Wait, so you don’t know about Alec?” Jacob asked.
“Alec?” Matthew asked, surprised to here that name brought into the conversation. “What does Alec have to do with any of this?”
“He’s in the hospital man, ‘causa your joke.”
“What are you talking about?” Matthew said his voice rising slightly. “What happened? What’s wrong with him?”
“Chill Matt, he’s not dead or anything.”
“Chill yourself Jake,” Matthew said acerbically, too upset now to bother about not offending Jacob. “Tell me what happened right now.”
“Well don’t blame me if what I heard isn’t right, this is second hand information I’m giving you here.”
Matthew shot up, off the beanbag chair and practically screamed, “Just tell me what happened Jacob.”
Now Jacob realized how serious this was: Matthew never called Jacob “Jacob” it was always “Jake”.
“Alright, alright. Sit down Matt.” Matthew sat back down on the beanbag, but he was too worked up now to relax, so he stood back up again, and started pacing.
“Ok,” Jacob began, “So, from what I hear, Alec was one of the people helping to capture the pigs. My informants tell me, that he had chased one down to that one hallway on the first floor, you know, the one that has the huge staircase that leads to the basement? Well, Alec chased this pig, I think it was number four… anyways, he chased it to the top of the stair case, and well…”
Jacob trailed off, unwilling to anger Matthew further.
“Well Jake? What happened?” Matthew asked impatient.
“No one’s really sure what happened, since no one was around when he actually fell – except the pig, and he ain’t talkin’” Jacob smirked at his joke, then looked at Matthew’s face and realized that this wasn’t the time.
Anyways, somehow Alec tripped or something, ‘cause someone found him in the basement, at the bottom of the stairs. From what I hear, it seems like it happened about the time you got called into the principle’s office with all the other guys, so that’s probably why Mrs. Lesser took away sports for you. See, Alec broke a leg, and an arm, fractured and sprained, like, every other bone in his body, and he cut himself up pretty bad. I hear he’s all black and blue, and there was a bunch of blood when they found him. But the doctors say he was lucky; because he didn’t snap his neck, or land on something really sharp at the end of the stairs and impale himself or something. Plus, someone found him real quick after he fell, so he didn’t loose as much blood as he could have. So from what I hear, he’s not in danger of dying or anything. But the last person I talked to said, that the doctors are thinking that he might never be able to play soccer again, because of something he did to his legs. Even if he does recover, he’s definitely going to miss the tournament this weekend. I guess that’s why you lost football. Mrs. Lesser thought it’d be fair, since Alec might loose soccer forever. Of course, I heard that Lesser was ready to just kick you out of school, but I guess somehow you got out of that.”
“Alec…” Matthew said in a strangled tone. He fell into the beanbag chair and sat there for what seemed like forever, in a shocked stupor.
“It’s OK, Matt. He’s probably not gonna die or anything,” Jacob said, trying to reassure Matthew. He was worried at the color Matthew’s face was turning, a sort of purplish-green.
Matthew finally regained consciousness a minute later. He shot up off of the beanbag chair, and bolted for the door, shouting over his shoulder, “I have to go.”
Matthew sped through the house, nearly knocking over several of Mrs. Zimmerman’s expensive vases.
“Alec,” Matthew said again as he scrambled to get into his car, and sped down the neighborhood road. Matthew wondered why couldn’t Alec have just, not helped for once in his life? Because he’s just not that kind of person, he thought, answering his own question. Alec was always helping. Many kids in the school called him a teacher’s pet, saying that he only helped around the school to get on Mrs. Lesser’s good side. The truth was, that Alec was genuinely just a nice kid, who liked to help people however he could. But why couldn’t he have just walked away this one time?
Matthew's heart was pounding. He knew that Jacob had said Alec was not in danger of death, but who knew with second hand information. Alec could be much worse, or much better than Jacob had described. The only way to find out was to get to local hospital as soon as Matthew’s old hand-me-down car would allow.
The thought of Alec’s small body covered in blood, as Jacob had described it, made Matthew sick. But the thought of Alec dead – kind hearted, happy-go-lucky Alec – was just unfathomable. And the idea of Alec not being able to play soccer, the thing he loved the most in the world, was just cruel.
Matthew’s foot pressed on the gas peddle harder. Kat’s gonna be so mad at me, he thought as he sped down the road that lead to the small hospital. Katherine Summers, Matthew’s steady girlfriend for the past three years, and Alec’s older sister, had temper as fiery as the red hair on her head. Matthew was of the opinion that she was the most overprotective older sister in the world and, whether Alec was dead or in perfect health after his accident, the fact that it had been Matthew’s prank that had caused the whole ordeal would mean trouble for him.
Matthew pulled into the hospital parking lot, and parked in the closest spot he could find. He nearly fell out of the car in his haste, and ran into the three-story hospital. This particular hospital was as familiar to Matthew as his own home. It was quite possible that he had spent more time in this hospital than anywhere else in the small town. He had been in every examination room, for various ailments and injuries over the course of his life, and spent at least on night in each and every bed in the entire hospital. Matthew’s frantic sprint ended as he nearly crashed into the front desk on the first floor of the hospital. As he came to a stop, he nearly screamed, “Bridget!”
“Keep your voice down boy,” Bridget’s harsh voice answered, as she walked out of a small room behind the desk, carrying a piece of paper.
“Bridget I –”
“Keep quiet for minute,” the portly, African American woman said to Matthew. She was garbed in nurse’s scrubs. Her shoulder length, thick brown hair was braided, and her hazel eyes glared at Matthew before she turned her back to him to face a woman carrying a small child. She spoke to the woman for what seemed like a decade to Matthew. Finally, Bridget handed the woman the piece of paper. Then, she wheeled around to face Matthew; slapping the hand he had been tapping the counter with.
“It’s about time you showed up,” Bridget scolded.
“I had no idea, Bridget, honestly. I just found out about ten minutes ago from Jake.”
Bridget, still glaring at Matthew, looked for deceit in his eyes. When she found none, she sighed.
“Well, I better warn you. Katherine’s in there, she has been since Alec got here. He looked terrible when got here, but it turned out he wasn’t hurt as bad as we thought he might have been. Still, you know Katherine. Alec came-to a while back, when your principal came by to check on him, but then he conked out again. As far as I know, he’s still out cold, so she’s had plenty of time to stew. I’d get up there quick, before she gets anymore time to plot her revenge.”
Matthew nearly smiled, despite himself.
“Which room is he in?”
“Summer of 04,” Bridget said simply. Matthew was already moving as the words left her mouth, flying down the halls to the stairs, shouting his thanks over his shoulder as he went. ‘Summer of 04’ was referring to the room Matthew stayed in after he had been in a boating accident in the Summer of 2004.
Matthew sped by the elevators, which were much to slow for his liking, straight to the staircase. He reached the second floor in record time, and made his way through the halls, avoiding patients, nurses, and doctors, until he reached the room Alec was staying in. He stopped abruptly in the doorway, when he saw Katherine sitting in a chair that she had pulled up beside Alec’s bed. Her back was turned to him, her long, flaming red hair was braided, and hung over the back of the chair she was resting in. She was obviously asleep, but Matthew could picture the glare she would give him when she woke up. The color of her eyes changed, depending on what she was wearing but, as Matthew walked slowly and quietly into the room, and saw that she was wearing, a plain fitted light blue t-shirt, he knew that her eyes would be a piercing blue grey today. Matthew decided to let her sleep, and turned his attention to Alec.
The hospital blanket covered him up to his chest, but his left leg, wrapped in a cast, was protruding, as it was elevated on a sling handing from the ceiling. His right upper arm was bandaged. His right wrist, which was wrapped in a brace, lay on his stomach. His left arm was in a huge cast, and rested at his side. His head was wrapped in bandages, and he had a neck brace on. There were various bandages of all sizes on the rest of Alec’s body, and every inch of skin that was still visible was bruised. Matthew walked around the hospital bed as he surveyed the damage he had unintentionally done to a boy who was like a brother to him. As he came to the side of the bed opposite to Katherine, he shot a glance in her direction.
“Crap,” he muttered. She was awake, still sitting in the chair, arms cross. She was glowering at him.
“I can’t believe you Matthew Crow,” Katherine said, murder in her eyes.
“Kat, I’m so sorry, you have no idea.”
“You better be sorry. Look at my baby brother.”
“Kat, he’s not a baby anymore…” Matthew trailed off, realizing that he wasn’t helping his case. “Anyways, it wasn’t my fault that he was the one who fell down the stairs,” he said, now defensive. “It could have been anyone.”
“You’re right, it could have been anyone, but it wasn’t. And as much as I hate to say it, you’re lucky it was Alec who fell down those stairs Matthew, you really are,” Katherine said, grudgingly, still angry.
“W-what?” Matthew stuttered. He had been expected Katherine to be beyond furious. It had even crossed his mind that she might actually break up with him for this. So what did she mean now? How could her baby brother falling down two flights of stairs be a good thing?
“Honestly, Matthew, what were you thinking? With a month to go until graduation? You could have gotten yourself expelled. And then where would you be? Gosh, you should have seen what Mrs. Lesser looked like when she came to check on Alec. She just kept going on and on about how you would never get your high school diploma if she had anything to do with it. If Alec hadn’t convinced her to let you off easy, your future would be so messed up right now. That’s why, as completely ticked as I am, I’m almost glad it was Alec who fell – Almost.”
Matthew sank into a chair next to Alec’s bed and put his head in his hands. It was all sinking in now. He had acted like a jerk to his friends, and his mom, and he had badmouthed more people than he could count. He had jeopardized his entire future, his chances of becoming a doctor, his relationship with the girl of his dreams, and the life of a boy who was more like his little brother than his actual brother. With one prank, that he had been so proud of just that morning, he had caused more damage than he ever could have imagined.
“Jake told me that Alec won’t be able to play soccer ever again, is that true?” Matthew asked, his head still in his hands.
“No, it’s not. After he heals up, he’ll be able to play again. But he’s going to miss a lot of games, including the biggest one of the Season on Sunday. They have enough players, so they won’t be forced to forfeit, but they’ve still lost their best player.” Matthew knew Katherine wasn’t being bias, Alec was truly a gifted soccer player, and the star on his team. Without Alec, that team’s chances were slim.
“Wow…” Matthew trailed off, realizing everything he had done, and everything he was going to have to do to make up for it.
“Yeah, wow,” Katherine agreed. They sat in silence for a minute, while Katherine let Matthew think. “So what are you gonna do Matt?” Matthew knew what he was going to do. What he had to do. He slowly stood up.
“I have to go,” Matthew said, as he walked to the door. Katherine just followed. He turned to her and they hugged. “I’m so sorry,” Matthew said again.
“I know,” Katherine answered, looking up at him, forgiveness in her eyes. Then she smiled and impish grin and said, “You better dig in Matty, you’ve got a lot of crow to eat.”
Matthew smiled back, glad that she wasn’t so mad that she couldn’t joke. Katherine had informed Matthew early on in their relationship that “To eat crow” basically meant to admit you were wrong. It was Katherine’s own personal “I told you so” specially tailored for Matthew. It sometimes got on Matthew’s nerves, but today he knew she was right, and he didn’t mind. He knew had a lot of wrongs to right.
“Call me the second he opens his eyes.”
“I will.”
“I’ll see you later then,” Matthew said. Katherine kissed him lightly, and then simply said,
“Good luck.”
Matthew smiled at her, turned, and walked down the hospital hallway. He had a lot to make up for, and he wanted to do it before Alec woke up. First and foremost, he had to talk to his Mom, then Jacob, then Mrs. Lesser, and many others. He had seriously goofed, but he was going to make up for it. As Matthew made his way past the front desk, he passed Bridget.
“And where are you going?” she asked. Matthew kept walking, but turned to face Bridget. As he walked backwards towards the hospital door he smiled and said, “Home. I have a lot of eating to do.”
by Rachel Cline (Entering 9th grade Sept. 2009)
Matthew hurled his book bag down on the floor by the front door in rage. He ran his hand through his dark brown hair, as he stood in the front hall of his house, fuming. He was too angry to deal with his mom’s lectures, so he planned to head over to Jacob Zimmerman’s house before she got home.
Matthew had been friends with Jacob since the fourth grade. Jacob strongly believed that video games were the answer to all life’s problems. Matthew didn’t always agree with this philosophy, but today was different. Today he was furious. He wanted to blow off steam by beating virtual characters to a pulp. Then, he was sure he could talk some sense into Mrs. Lesser. After all, he did have Coach Morton on his side, as well as his own father, who would surely see things his way.
Matthew ran up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. He tore the room apart searching for his newest video games, and after finding them under a pile of papers, he ran back down the stairs, games in hand, to the kitchen.
Inside the small, familiar kitchen area, Matthew crossed from the doorway to the pantry in two steps, and retrieved a jumbo bag of chips. He smiled somewhat grimly, still mad about the day, as he thought about Jacob’s addiction to potato chips – an addiction that Jacob could rarely satisfy, due to his parents being health nuts.
As Matthew turned away from the pantry he studied the bag of chips absentmindedly. When he looked up from the bag he found that his mother was standing in the opened doorway that lead into the front hall. Her arms were crossed and she was glaring up at him. Mrs. Crow was a little more than half a foot shorter than Matthew, although this wasn’t abnormal, as he was about six feet and two inches tall.
Matthew rolled his grass green eyes, crossed his arms, and leaned against the closed pantry door, awaiting the lecture he knew was coming.
“The principal called,” Mrs. Crow said simply, sighing as she walked a few steps closer to him. Matthew sighed too, and rolled his eyes again.
Of course Mrs. Lesser had called. That woman had nothing better to do with her time but snitch on Mathew.
Matthew’s mother just stood in front of him, silent. Here it comes, he thought. He had been hoping to get to Jakes house one last time before he was grounded, So much for that idea. He stood, waiting for his sentence; as if I haven’t gotten enough grief from Lesser.
“I’m not going to ground you. In fact, I’m not going to punish you at all.” Alright! Matthew thought, Getting off easy! He refrained from grinning though, afraid that it might set Mrs. Crow off, which might land him with some kind of punishment.
“The result of that little prank you pulled is enough punishment,” Matthew’s mother went on, “And after all, you’re officially an adult in a few months and it’s time you start making your own decisions, and living with the consequences. That means I won’t help you escape the punishment Mrs. Lesser has dealt out to you, and neither will your father. I think losing football is a fine punishment, considering all that’s happened.” Matthew’s virtual grin faded.
Considering what exactly, Matthew thought. I didn’t do anything to deserve loosing football. Matthew grimaced; he had been counting on his dad to help get Mrs. Lesser to see reason.
His mother continued, although Matthew was barely listening now, “If you really think running off to play video games with Jacob will fix things, then fine, go ahead.”
“Fine,” Matthew said icily. “I’ll be at Jake’s.” He maneuvered skillfully around his mom in the small kitchen and walked towards the door. Matthew just couldn’t see what the big deal was. He had pulled a harmless prank, and it had bombed. He had been caught and he agreed maybe he should get a few days detention, but loosing football, just before the big game, that was just unfair treatment. Mrs. Lesser is just bitter… this is her way of getting back at me. Matthew thought, resentfully.
“Just one question Matt.” Matthew turned slowly, to glare at his mother again.
“What?” he said curtly.
“Where on earth did you get those pigs?”
“Zach’s Granddad owns a farm. It was a piece of cake.” Matthew answered. Even through his anger, he was proud of his idea. Mrs. Crow shook her head.
“And who came up with this scheme?”
“Well that was me obviously. That’s why none of the other guys got it as bad as me. That idiot, Carter, let it slip that I was the brain behind it all.” Matthew rolled his eyes, and shook his head at the thought of that snitch, a junior looking to get in with big guys. Carter had released the pigs and was caught red handed. Then he went and squealed on everyone who had been a part of the prank.
“I don’t know what to say Matt, but this one’s on your head, don’t go blaming anyone else for what happened,”
“Yeah, whatever. I’m leaving now.”
Matthew turned around and headed for the front door, not bothering to look at his mom’s expression, which was not one of anger at his insolence, but one of sorrow and disappointment.
Swearing under his breath, Matthew climbed into his car and pulled out of the driveway. On the short drive to Jacob’s house, he thought about the day, and began cursing again. He was trying to understand why he had been punished the way he had. It was senior year; everyone he knew was pulling pranks, making marks on the school and on the minds of fellow classmates so as to not be forgotten. Matthew’s prank could have been one of the best. As it was, it had been hilarious! Watching a pig chase Principal Lesser was something no one could forget. But it would have been much sweeter to see all the chaos if he hadn’t gotten caught, and punished the way he had been.
Matthew pulled into the Zimmerman’s’ driveway. He got out of his car, slammed the door and entered the Zimmerman household, without knocking, slamming the door behind him.
Jacob got home two hours before the rest of his family on school days. He spent this time avoiding homework and playing video games. It wasn’t that Jacob was a slacker; it was just that his parents were so strict with him that he grabbed any chance to enjoy his free time doing the pointless, mind-numbing things his parents hated, such as playing video games and eating junk food.
Matthew made his way down to the den, which was located in the Zimmerman’s half finished basement. He walked through the finished area, which was used by Jacob’s ten-year-old sister as a playroom. This part of the basement was blindingly pink, the floor strewn with Barbie dolls and ponies; Mrs. Zimmerman’s doing. The woman adored and spoiled her only daughter. Matthew kept walking through the pink nightmare, kicking aside stray toys, until he got to a door on the right, at the end of the long rectangular room. He opened the door, and walked through, going from pink fuzzy carpeting, to smooth nondescript concrete flooring.
This room was the complete opposite of the one Matthew had just been in. It was a small, dark, square room. The splintering wooden support beams creaked above Matthew’s head, as he observed the familiar movie posters that plastered every inch of the brick walls. The lighting was dim, as the only light sources were coming from a lamp in one corner, and a TV screen in another. The room smelled faintly of mildew and Jacob’s favorite cheesy potato chips Jacob was sitting on an old couch, which was situated in the left hand corner of the small room, in front of the large TV. Although the couch had originally been an olive green with a floral pattern, after spending many years in the den, it was now closer to puce than any other color. To the left of the two-person couch there was a small, beat up, wooden table, piled high with empty potato chip bags, and soda cans. On the other side, there was a very large blue beanbag, given to Jacob by his younger sister, when she had decided she’d rather have a pink beanbag. Directly in front of the couch, placed against the wall, and on top of an old, two shelved bookshelf, was Jacob’s pride a glory. It was a very high tech 48” flat screen TV given to Jacob two years ago by his father. Jacob’s dad had bought it to replace an older TV, but just over a year after Mr. Zimmerman had purchased this masterpiece, a newer more improved model came out and he decided to discard this “outdated” machine, in favor of the newest version. When Matthew had told his parent’s of Jacob’s good luck they had just shook their heads in disbelief, not even being able to fathom such waste.
Matthew made his way to the messy corner in a few strides. Jacob was sitting on the very edge of the small couch, leaning so close to the TV that Matthew couldn’t understand how the pictures on the screen could look like anything more than blurs to Jacob. Matthew kicked a few stray video game cases out of the way, and flopped down on the beanbag.
“Yo.” Jacob said, too enthralled in his game to acknowledge Matthew any further.
“Hey Jake,” Matthew said, gruffly, still upset about the day. “I brought chips.” At that Jacob paused his game, giving Matthew his full attention.
“What kind?” Jacob asked. As if he really cares, Matthew thought riley, he’ll take anything he can get.
“Your favorite,” Matthew answered simply.
“Yes,” Jacob said reverently. “Hand over the cheesy goodness.” Matthew tossed the bag to Jacob. He snatched the bag out of the air, ripped it open, and began munching.
“So I heard all about what happened today,” Jacob stated in between the hand full of chips he was shoving into his mouth.
“Of course you did,” Matthew sighed. Even though Jacob went to the more expensive high school in the town this year, he still had many friends, and informants, in his old high school who kept him in the know.
“Well, I didn’t hear everything,” Jacob corrected. “I just heard you pulled a prank, and it didn’t go so well.”
“That’s the biggest understatement of the year,” Matthew said harshly. Jacob stopped shoveling chips into his mouth, and settled into the couch again. He knew when one of Matthew’s rants was coming. He un-paused his game, and began playing, with every intention of blocking Matthew out while he blew off some steam.
“So I came up with this awesome idea for a prank, right?” Matthew started. “I made it up, I figured out how to make it work. Zach Anderson and his cousin would pick three pigs up from Zach’s Granddad’s farm, we would cover them in mud, and label them ‘pig 1’ ‘pig 2’ and ‘pig 4’. Carter would let ‘em loose, they would make a mess in the school. They would cause complete chaos, and no one would be able to find ‘pig 3’. We might have even gotten time off while they searched. And nobody would ever have suspected me as the mastermind behind it all…”
Matthew trailed off, dreaming of the glory he had been so close to. Then he snapped out of his reverie, and went on with his story, “But no, that moron Allen Carter had to get caught. That wouldn’t have been so bad, him getting caught, if he had kept his mouth shut. But he had to go and squeal. He spills the entire plan, and that I’m behind it all. So I get the blame. I have to clean up the mess the pigs left behind. I get three weeks of detention. That’s not even so bad though, the other guys that were part of the prank got all that too, but I’m the only one who gets sports revoked until the end of the year. Just because I was the one who thought the thing up! I mean, sure the pigs made a mess, and Lesser got humiliated but –”
“Yeah, I heard about that,” Jacob interrupted. “Did she really get chased around the whole school by all three of the pigs?”
“Yeah man,” Matthew answered, obviously proud. Jacob whistled.
“Dude, I wish I coulda’ seen that.”
“Man, it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. She must have slipped, like, twelve times in all the mud.” Matthew beamed for a minute, but then his grin faded as he remembered his punishment once again. “But see Jake? That’s exactly my point, it was hilarious, but, Lesser was humiliated. Which is why that has to be the only reason I’m getting a bigger punishment than any of the other guys, there’s no other explanation.”
“What do you mean ‘there’s no other explanation’?” Jacob asked, obviously confused.
“I mean, the only reason I’m getting all this crap, is because it was my joke, and Lesser was personally offended by it.”
“Wait, so you don’t know about Alec?” Jacob asked.
“Alec?” Matthew asked, surprised to here that name brought into the conversation. “What does Alec have to do with any of this?”
“He’s in the hospital man, ‘causa your joke.”
“What are you talking about?” Matthew said his voice rising slightly. “What happened? What’s wrong with him?”
“Chill Matt, he’s not dead or anything.”
“Chill yourself Jake,” Matthew said acerbically, too upset now to bother about not offending Jacob. “Tell me what happened right now.”
“Well don’t blame me if what I heard isn’t right, this is second hand information I’m giving you here.”
Matthew shot up, off the beanbag chair and practically screamed, “Just tell me what happened Jacob.”
Now Jacob realized how serious this was: Matthew never called Jacob “Jacob” it was always “Jake”.
“Alright, alright. Sit down Matt.” Matthew sat back down on the beanbag, but he was too worked up now to relax, so he stood back up again, and started pacing.
“Ok,” Jacob began, “So, from what I hear, Alec was one of the people helping to capture the pigs. My informants tell me, that he had chased one down to that one hallway on the first floor, you know, the one that has the huge staircase that leads to the basement? Well, Alec chased this pig, I think it was number four… anyways, he chased it to the top of the stair case, and well…”
Jacob trailed off, unwilling to anger Matthew further.
“Well Jake? What happened?” Matthew asked impatient.
“No one’s really sure what happened, since no one was around when he actually fell – except the pig, and he ain’t talkin’” Jacob smirked at his joke, then looked at Matthew’s face and realized that this wasn’t the time.
Anyways, somehow Alec tripped or something, ‘cause someone found him in the basement, at the bottom of the stairs. From what I hear, it seems like it happened about the time you got called into the principle’s office with all the other guys, so that’s probably why Mrs. Lesser took away sports for you. See, Alec broke a leg, and an arm, fractured and sprained, like, every other bone in his body, and he cut himself up pretty bad. I hear he’s all black and blue, and there was a bunch of blood when they found him. But the doctors say he was lucky; because he didn’t snap his neck, or land on something really sharp at the end of the stairs and impale himself or something. Plus, someone found him real quick after he fell, so he didn’t loose as much blood as he could have. So from what I hear, he’s not in danger of dying or anything. But the last person I talked to said, that the doctors are thinking that he might never be able to play soccer again, because of something he did to his legs. Even if he does recover, he’s definitely going to miss the tournament this weekend. I guess that’s why you lost football. Mrs. Lesser thought it’d be fair, since Alec might loose soccer forever. Of course, I heard that Lesser was ready to just kick you out of school, but I guess somehow you got out of that.”
“Alec…” Matthew said in a strangled tone. He fell into the beanbag chair and sat there for what seemed like forever, in a shocked stupor.
“It’s OK, Matt. He’s probably not gonna die or anything,” Jacob said, trying to reassure Matthew. He was worried at the color Matthew’s face was turning, a sort of purplish-green.
Matthew finally regained consciousness a minute later. He shot up off of the beanbag chair, and bolted for the door, shouting over his shoulder, “I have to go.”
Matthew sped through the house, nearly knocking over several of Mrs. Zimmerman’s expensive vases.
“Alec,” Matthew said again as he scrambled to get into his car, and sped down the neighborhood road. Matthew wondered why couldn’t Alec have just, not helped for once in his life? Because he’s just not that kind of person, he thought, answering his own question. Alec was always helping. Many kids in the school called him a teacher’s pet, saying that he only helped around the school to get on Mrs. Lesser’s good side. The truth was, that Alec was genuinely just a nice kid, who liked to help people however he could. But why couldn’t he have just walked away this one time?
Matthew's heart was pounding. He knew that Jacob had said Alec was not in danger of death, but who knew with second hand information. Alec could be much worse, or much better than Jacob had described. The only way to find out was to get to local hospital as soon as Matthew’s old hand-me-down car would allow.
The thought of Alec’s small body covered in blood, as Jacob had described it, made Matthew sick. But the thought of Alec dead – kind hearted, happy-go-lucky Alec – was just unfathomable. And the idea of Alec not being able to play soccer, the thing he loved the most in the world, was just cruel.
Matthew’s foot pressed on the gas peddle harder. Kat’s gonna be so mad at me, he thought as he sped down the road that lead to the small hospital. Katherine Summers, Matthew’s steady girlfriend for the past three years, and Alec’s older sister, had temper as fiery as the red hair on her head. Matthew was of the opinion that she was the most overprotective older sister in the world and, whether Alec was dead or in perfect health after his accident, the fact that it had been Matthew’s prank that had caused the whole ordeal would mean trouble for him.
Matthew pulled into the hospital parking lot, and parked in the closest spot he could find. He nearly fell out of the car in his haste, and ran into the three-story hospital. This particular hospital was as familiar to Matthew as his own home. It was quite possible that he had spent more time in this hospital than anywhere else in the small town. He had been in every examination room, for various ailments and injuries over the course of his life, and spent at least on night in each and every bed in the entire hospital. Matthew’s frantic sprint ended as he nearly crashed into the front desk on the first floor of the hospital. As he came to a stop, he nearly screamed, “Bridget!”
“Keep your voice down boy,” Bridget’s harsh voice answered, as she walked out of a small room behind the desk, carrying a piece of paper.
“Bridget I –”
“Keep quiet for minute,” the portly, African American woman said to Matthew. She was garbed in nurse’s scrubs. Her shoulder length, thick brown hair was braided, and her hazel eyes glared at Matthew before she turned her back to him to face a woman carrying a small child. She spoke to the woman for what seemed like a decade to Matthew. Finally, Bridget handed the woman the piece of paper. Then, she wheeled around to face Matthew; slapping the hand he had been tapping the counter with.
“It’s about time you showed up,” Bridget scolded.
“I had no idea, Bridget, honestly. I just found out about ten minutes ago from Jake.”
Bridget, still glaring at Matthew, looked for deceit in his eyes. When she found none, she sighed.
“Well, I better warn you. Katherine’s in there, she has been since Alec got here. He looked terrible when got here, but it turned out he wasn’t hurt as bad as we thought he might have been. Still, you know Katherine. Alec came-to a while back, when your principal came by to check on him, but then he conked out again. As far as I know, he’s still out cold, so she’s had plenty of time to stew. I’d get up there quick, before she gets anymore time to plot her revenge.”
Matthew nearly smiled, despite himself.
“Which room is he in?”
“Summer of 04,” Bridget said simply. Matthew was already moving as the words left her mouth, flying down the halls to the stairs, shouting his thanks over his shoulder as he went. ‘Summer of 04’ was referring to the room Matthew stayed in after he had been in a boating accident in the Summer of 2004.
Matthew sped by the elevators, which were much to slow for his liking, straight to the staircase. He reached the second floor in record time, and made his way through the halls, avoiding patients, nurses, and doctors, until he reached the room Alec was staying in. He stopped abruptly in the doorway, when he saw Katherine sitting in a chair that she had pulled up beside Alec’s bed. Her back was turned to him, her long, flaming red hair was braided, and hung over the back of the chair she was resting in. She was obviously asleep, but Matthew could picture the glare she would give him when she woke up. The color of her eyes changed, depending on what she was wearing but, as Matthew walked slowly and quietly into the room, and saw that she was wearing, a plain fitted light blue t-shirt, he knew that her eyes would be a piercing blue grey today. Matthew decided to let her sleep, and turned his attention to Alec.
The hospital blanket covered him up to his chest, but his left leg, wrapped in a cast, was protruding, as it was elevated on a sling handing from the ceiling. His right upper arm was bandaged. His right wrist, which was wrapped in a brace, lay on his stomach. His left arm was in a huge cast, and rested at his side. His head was wrapped in bandages, and he had a neck brace on. There were various bandages of all sizes on the rest of Alec’s body, and every inch of skin that was still visible was bruised. Matthew walked around the hospital bed as he surveyed the damage he had unintentionally done to a boy who was like a brother to him. As he came to the side of the bed opposite to Katherine, he shot a glance in her direction.
“Crap,” he muttered. She was awake, still sitting in the chair, arms cross. She was glowering at him.
“I can’t believe you Matthew Crow,” Katherine said, murder in her eyes.
“Kat, I’m so sorry, you have no idea.”
“You better be sorry. Look at my baby brother.”
“Kat, he’s not a baby anymore…” Matthew trailed off, realizing that he wasn’t helping his case. “Anyways, it wasn’t my fault that he was the one who fell down the stairs,” he said, now defensive. “It could have been anyone.”
“You’re right, it could have been anyone, but it wasn’t. And as much as I hate to say it, you’re lucky it was Alec who fell down those stairs Matthew, you really are,” Katherine said, grudgingly, still angry.
“W-what?” Matthew stuttered. He had been expected Katherine to be beyond furious. It had even crossed his mind that she might actually break up with him for this. So what did she mean now? How could her baby brother falling down two flights of stairs be a good thing?
“Honestly, Matthew, what were you thinking? With a month to go until graduation? You could have gotten yourself expelled. And then where would you be? Gosh, you should have seen what Mrs. Lesser looked like when she came to check on Alec. She just kept going on and on about how you would never get your high school diploma if she had anything to do with it. If Alec hadn’t convinced her to let you off easy, your future would be so messed up right now. That’s why, as completely ticked as I am, I’m almost glad it was Alec who fell – Almost.”
Matthew sank into a chair next to Alec’s bed and put his head in his hands. It was all sinking in now. He had acted like a jerk to his friends, and his mom, and he had badmouthed more people than he could count. He had jeopardized his entire future, his chances of becoming a doctor, his relationship with the girl of his dreams, and the life of a boy who was more like his little brother than his actual brother. With one prank, that he had been so proud of just that morning, he had caused more damage than he ever could have imagined.
“Jake told me that Alec won’t be able to play soccer ever again, is that true?” Matthew asked, his head still in his hands.
“No, it’s not. After he heals up, he’ll be able to play again. But he’s going to miss a lot of games, including the biggest one of the Season on Sunday. They have enough players, so they won’t be forced to forfeit, but they’ve still lost their best player.” Matthew knew Katherine wasn’t being bias, Alec was truly a gifted soccer player, and the star on his team. Without Alec, that team’s chances were slim.
“Wow…” Matthew trailed off, realizing everything he had done, and everything he was going to have to do to make up for it.
“Yeah, wow,” Katherine agreed. They sat in silence for a minute, while Katherine let Matthew think. “So what are you gonna do Matt?” Matthew knew what he was going to do. What he had to do. He slowly stood up.
“I have to go,” Matthew said, as he walked to the door. Katherine just followed. He turned to her and they hugged. “I’m so sorry,” Matthew said again.
“I know,” Katherine answered, looking up at him, forgiveness in her eyes. Then she smiled and impish grin and said, “You better dig in Matty, you’ve got a lot of crow to eat.”
Matthew smiled back, glad that she wasn’t so mad that she couldn’t joke. Katherine had informed Matthew early on in their relationship that “To eat crow” basically meant to admit you were wrong. It was Katherine’s own personal “I told you so” specially tailored for Matthew. It sometimes got on Matthew’s nerves, but today he knew she was right, and he didn’t mind. He knew had a lot of wrongs to right.
“Call me the second he opens his eyes.”
“I will.”
“I’ll see you later then,” Matthew said. Katherine kissed him lightly, and then simply said,
“Good luck.”
Matthew smiled at her, turned, and walked down the hospital hallway. He had a lot to make up for, and he wanted to do it before Alec woke up. First and foremost, he had to talk to his Mom, then Jacob, then Mrs. Lesser, and many others. He had seriously goofed, but he was going to make up for it. As Matthew made his way past the front desk, he passed Bridget.
“And where are you going?” she asked. Matthew kept walking, but turned to face Bridget. As he walked backwards towards the hospital door he smiled and said, “Home. I have a lot of eating to do.”
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Another Random Word List
At Students Publish Here! we have enjoyed using random word lists to create poems. Here are some poems that have been produced using such lists:
http://teachgoodwriting.blogspot.com/2008/05/another-religious-poem.html
http://teachgoodwriting.blogspot.com/2008/12/ed-pachts-christmas-poem.html
http://teachgoodwriting.blogspot.com/2008/04/from-random-to-reason.html
I invite readers to submit original poems using the following list of words:
caring for none
a painful splinter
Presence of the place
broken egg(s)
towering presence
renderings
forecast
jiggler
gentle persuasion
chorus of wind chimes
falling away
forbidden portals
harmony
straggling
stranded
smooth speckled stones
laboring longer
dryer than death
fists
longing
Poems should be between 12 and 30 lines. Words may be used in any order. Poets are not required to use all the words.
The results will be published at Students Publish Here! (Two submissions have already arrived, as of May 28.)
Deadline: June 30
I look forward to reading your work!
Alice C. Linsley
http://teachgoodwriting.blogspot.com/2008/05/another-religious-poem.html
http://teachgoodwriting.blogspot.com/2008/12/ed-pachts-christmas-poem.html
http://teachgoodwriting.blogspot.com/2008/04/from-random-to-reason.html
I invite readers to submit original poems using the following list of words:
caring for none
a painful splinter
Presence of the place
broken egg(s)
towering presence
renderings
forecast
jiggler
gentle persuasion
chorus of wind chimes
falling away
forbidden portals
harmony
straggling
stranded
smooth speckled stones
laboring longer
dryer than death
fists
longing
Poems should be between 12 and 30 lines. Words may be used in any order. Poets are not required to use all the words.
The results will be published at Students Publish Here! (Two submissions have already arrived, as of May 28.)
Deadline: June 30
I look forward to reading your work!
Alice C. Linsley
Thursday, May 21, 2009
John C. Nichols to Read Poem at Carnegie
John C. Nichols has been selected as a finalist for the Carnegie Center Young People’s Poetry Contest 2009 and will read his poem at the Carnegie Center in Lexington on Friday June 19 at 5:00 pm.
John was also the recipient of the Lexington Womens' Club Creative Writing Award, May 2009.
Congratulations to John!
John was also the recipient of the Lexington Womens' Club Creative Writing Award, May 2009.
Congratulations to John!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Glimmer Train Announces New Contest
SHORT STORY AWARD for NEW WRITERS
Deadline: May 31, 2009
Prizes:
1st place wins $1,200, publication in Glimmer Train, and 20 copies.
2nd-place: $500 and possible publication.
3rd-place: $300 and possible publication.
Reading fee: $15 per story.
Results post on July 31, 2009.
Winning story will be published in Issue 76.
Other considerations: Open only to writers whose fiction has not appeared in any print publication with a circulation over 5,000. (Entries, of course, must be unpublished.)
Stories not to exceed 12,000 words.
Deadline: May 31, 2009
Prizes:
1st place wins $1,200, publication in Glimmer Train, and 20 copies.
2nd-place: $500 and possible publication.
3rd-place: $300 and possible publication.
Reading fee: $15 per story.
Results post on July 31, 2009.
Winning story will be published in Issue 76.
Other considerations: Open only to writers whose fiction has not appeared in any print publication with a circulation over 5,000. (Entries, of course, must be unpublished.)
Stories not to exceed 12,000 words.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Journey to Eternity
John C. Nichols
Arual sat regally in the high-backed, carved wooden chair, eating silently. The mahogany chair had flowing vines intertwined with crucifixes. The chair seat was covered with a roan velvet cushion filled with goose feathers. The chair's talon-like feet tightly gripped some small forest-dwelling creature like an eagle clutching a rabbit in its claws.
In her tormented grief, Arual had fallen into the habit of eating alone. She tore her bread into small pieces and squeezed the pieces into small balls between her thumb and forefinger. On the long oak table sat her pewter chalice. She reached for the chalice with her pale fragile hands and brought it gently to her lips. The red wine trickled slowly past her cherry lips and left a scarlet blemish at the corner of her mouth.
She had been reclusive for the longest time. So long, in fact, that she could no longer remember when she had first withdrawn.
She rose from the table and paced toward the tall windows that overlooked the vast acres of land that belonged to Lord Draegus. As she walked her long lack dress swirled about her shapely curves. Looking out the window, her arms hugged around her, she longed for the sun, feeling trapped as a prisoner.
Children played in the yard below and a scraggily haired dog kept watch over them. Arual saw all of this but nothing seemed to register in her vacant eyes. Her mind had been dwelling on the past for a long time. Her tears, when she thought of the deaths of her father and brother, were wringing life from her.
She spin on her heel and strode toward the far wall of the banquet hall where an enormous portrait of the young Prince Bjorn hung, her half brother. It had been painted during the boy's sickness, shortly before he died. She gazed at his brutish countenance, his black eyes and black hair striking against his milky skin. How she missed him! If only he were here to share her thoughts. If only she could escape for a moment...
If only the man she hoped and dreamed of would come. That would be the day she'd leave the gloomy castle and her father's fiefdom. Suddenly the portrait's features transformed before the power of her imagination, the cold scowl beame a warm loving smile. The hair became golden, graceful and full of life. His green eyes were gentle and soft and seemed to peer into her soul. His face flushed and smooth.
Arual sighed with pleasure, then blinked.
Bjorn's face reappeared in the cold, dark portrait.
She turned from the portrait and stalked toward a large oak door that opened to the stairs. She darted up the stone steps to her chambers where she fell to her knees and cried until her eyes were puffy and bloodshot.
"How could my father's choice think of me as 'just a woman'?" she sobbed. "Am I not beautiful enough? Am I so insignificant?"
"And how," she breathed between coughs and tears, "could his other choice, more conniving than the first, say that I am worthy yet claim that the first choice was only using me? How could he tell me that he loved me and yet crush my heart in a mighty vise? I hate them both! They are scoundrels who twist women's hearts to get what they desire. Squeeze us in their grip until we are nothing more than a feast for vultures. Still I love them both... I'm torn between the two. How can a woman truly love two men at once?"
Arual pounded her fists violently on the bed. Anger flowed from her as a torrent after a raging storm.
Then a voice, as from afar, whispered "Arual, Arual, Why do you cry? Is not my love enough for you?"
Arual spun around, seeking to discover the source of the voice.
"Why do you torment me, Oblec? Leave my heart to me. You have torn it enough."
"But do you not desire my return from amongst the dead, Arual?"
The voice swirled around the pale woman as she frightfully tried to silence it.
Suddenly, a hand gripped her shoulder, digging in and drawing blood with its claw-like fingernails. Aural wailed in pain; she screamed in terror clenching her eyes shut. The hand spun her around, and the pain stopped. When Arual opened her eyes, she found that she stared into the glinting orbs of a rougish young man. Oblec took Arual's arms in his hands and kissed her full on the mouth. She screeched and pulled herself away, slapping the man in the face.
The blow never fell.
Her hand whooshed through Oblec's airy viasge, as if he were merely a figment of her imagination.
Arual gasped as Oblec smiled and answered the woman's unspoken question, "Yes, my love, I am dead, but I am very much alive in your heart and head. I feel no pain, only passion. Passion allows me to kiss you, but you cannot hurt me."
"But how?" she began.
"Your desire has brought me back from beyond death, forcing me to return to this pitiful existence you call life. You weep and moan for the ressurection of the dead, but you know not what awaits you after you die! I tell you, I am truly living! I beg you, join me in death, in love!"
Then a thudding sound echoed from the stairs below.
Then the door burst open and another man strode gallantly in.
Then Arual's heart skipped a beat.
Then it broke.
Arual knew that there was no escape from this trap.
"I have come to save you, milday," he said, his round face glistening with perspiration. "Taborr has come to your rescue!"
He brushed his long black hair out of his face with a slide of his hand. His dark eyes burned with passion. To his enemy he said, "Oblec, you cur! Take your hands off of her! She loves me and me alone. I'll not let you touch her, you...you fiend!"
Oblec turned from Arual to face Taborr. "Young fool! To think that you, a mere child, would dare to claim a woman of this high stature as your own takes my breath away."
"Not than you breathe in case," Taborr said dryly.
Silence filled the room for the briefest moment. A slight reprieve for the tormented woman.
"Have you won her heart, boy?" Oblec asked sincerely.
Taborr could voice no reply.
"Just leave us, and I won't have to hurt you," Oblec continued.
"Oblec, please stop this," Aural pleaded, "I...I just want..."
Arual saying his name gave Oblec pause. "No milday," he replied. "This fool has brought judgement upon himself."
"Oblec, how dare you claim that right!" Taborr shouted. "You cannot hope to cast judgement upon the living!"
"Stop, stop it at once!" Arual screamed. "Can't you see what you...you...children are doing to my heart? It is breaking...it is being crushed." The miserable woman collapsed onto the floor again, crying desperatly for freedom. The two specters rushed toward her from either side, their ghostly beings colliding.
"Leave her be! She needs my promise of love!"
"No I shall never leave her side. She needs my comfort not your petty promises!"
Arual shrieked thrusting her hands through the two ghosts, escaping the chamber. She sprinted as fast as her frail legs would carry her. Toward the door....
Toward the meadow and the forest....
Toward freedom.
How could I have been so foolish, she cried to herself. What have I done? How can I free myself from their clutches?
Then she burst through the tall oak door, running. Slower, slower.
Arual glanced up at the bright blue of the morning sky, the flock of birds sailing through that ocean overhead.
Caught off-guard by the beauty of life, she stumbled and fell.
The bright sunlight warmed her as she lay silently in the soft, vibrant, dewey grass.
Arual lay there unmoving, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. The white pallor of her skin and the midnight darkness of her dress against the green canvas of the lawn created a portrait of beauty. A lonely tear slid down her pale cheek and into her mouth. She coughed as she breathed in the salty tear. Birds chirped in the trees near her prone form, and the smell of roses and violets filled her nostrils. Here she felt alive.
But her mind returned to the two specters haunting her. "Oh, what have I done?" she cried aloud. "Why must I be tormented so? Can this not be simpler? Must I love one and not the other? How long must my heart stand between two men?" She sobbed.
"You must choose me," Oblec cried, materialzing at her side.
"Don't listen to that fool, Arual. I know that you love me," Taborr said appearing across from Oblec, glaring at his foe.
"Oblec, Taborr, stop this at once!" Arual commanded. "I you. cease this tugging of my heart!" She rose to a sitting position. "My heart is being rent asunder!"
"Yes, leave us Taborr, you fool!" Oblec taunted, each word paining Arual's already broken heart.
"I refuse!" Taborr shouted. "You leave and she will be at peace!" The two figments of Arual's imagination fell again to fighting and arguing. Barely any time had passed before the two were shouting the most profane curses known to man , in vain attempt to woo their prey.
"If you two both don't stop this I will kill myself!" Arual screamed with a power she never fathomed she had. It must have been the invigorating life around her. "I will end my life if you both do not cease this stupidity. Oblec, Taborr, you should know that my soul shall never wander this Earth as yours do. I will pass on into the Paradise of Sham'ah. Your dark desires will never again be able to touch me"--angry tears coursed through the snowy vales of her cheeks--"and I will finally be free! I will do it! Do not doubt my words! I just want to live!"
Arual stopped, and a divine silence filled the meadow she lay in. No one spoke.
Then Arual continued, "Oblec, I loved you once, but your time has passed. Taborr I never loved you. I ran to you and fell into your arms when my brother died and my father vanished. When my mother died from grief, I came to you. Regardless, both of you are dead. How is a woman supposed to love that which lives no more?"
Realization struck the two spirits, and they hung their heads in silent sadness. As Arual's renewed strength brought wholeness to her mind, the two specters evanesced. Arual laid back and rested on the grass, feeling peace for the first time in years. Birds still sang, making music as beautiful as a minstrel's song. A calm breeze blew through the countryside. Arual shivered. Her raven hair, splayed like a black halo behind her head, undulated with the breath of the sky.
Arual smiled, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face.
Staring upward at the passsing clouds floating lazily across the azure depths of the sky, Arual noticed a soft golden glow slowly arise outside the range of her peripheral vision. She lifted her head and gasped.
Surrounded by a radiant aura of golden light, a rider sat perched atop a blazing white stallion. The rider was handsome, though his features were indistinct because of the brilliance. The rider pulled on the reigns, bringing the stud to a stop.
The rider spoke from the saddle of his mount in a voice as loud as thunder, yet as soft as a lamb's wool, "Lady Draegus, I have come to take you home." The voice was silky and smooth. Arual saw that the aura surrounding the rider gave everything it touched a more colorful hue. It was as if the rider was Life itself.
"Home?" Arual asked as if in a dream. "I am home. My home is just beyond you." She was in awe of this strange man.
"No Arual, this is not your home. Your home is where your heart is, and your heart is beyond this place. I have come to take you to where your heart lies." The rider dismounted gracefully, and Arual could see his face for the first time. A full, flushed face, green eyes, red lips.....
That face.....
The portrait! The face I've dreamed of!
"I... I'm not ready to go home yet."
"Then I shall wait with you until you are ready if it please you, Arual." The rider was perfect.
Arual nodded and the rider reclined next to her, gazing deeply into her eyes. His green orbs pierced her soul. The rider toook Arual's hands in his and held them, not letting go. His hands were smooth and gentle. Arual felt her fetters start to bend and break, falling around her feet like a pile of refuse.
"Milady, I shall wait with you until the coming of the Last Days, in which the mighty King of Heaven and Earth will split the skies. Throughout any trial this world can heave upon me, I will stand by your side until you are ready, my bride."
Through storm and flood, through drought and plague, through life and death, the rider waited for Arual to say the words that would send them on another journey called Eternity.
Arual sat regally in the high-backed, carved wooden chair, eating silently. The mahogany chair had flowing vines intertwined with crucifixes. The chair seat was covered with a roan velvet cushion filled with goose feathers. The chair's talon-like feet tightly gripped some small forest-dwelling creature like an eagle clutching a rabbit in its claws.
In her tormented grief, Arual had fallen into the habit of eating alone. She tore her bread into small pieces and squeezed the pieces into small balls between her thumb and forefinger. On the long oak table sat her pewter chalice. She reached for the chalice with her pale fragile hands and brought it gently to her lips. The red wine trickled slowly past her cherry lips and left a scarlet blemish at the corner of her mouth.
She had been reclusive for the longest time. So long, in fact, that she could no longer remember when she had first withdrawn.
She rose from the table and paced toward the tall windows that overlooked the vast acres of land that belonged to Lord Draegus. As she walked her long lack dress swirled about her shapely curves. Looking out the window, her arms hugged around her, she longed for the sun, feeling trapped as a prisoner.
Children played in the yard below and a scraggily haired dog kept watch over them. Arual saw all of this but nothing seemed to register in her vacant eyes. Her mind had been dwelling on the past for a long time. Her tears, when she thought of the deaths of her father and brother, were wringing life from her.
She spin on her heel and strode toward the far wall of the banquet hall where an enormous portrait of the young Prince Bjorn hung, her half brother. It had been painted during the boy's sickness, shortly before he died. She gazed at his brutish countenance, his black eyes and black hair striking against his milky skin. How she missed him! If only he were here to share her thoughts. If only she could escape for a moment...
If only the man she hoped and dreamed of would come. That would be the day she'd leave the gloomy castle and her father's fiefdom. Suddenly the portrait's features transformed before the power of her imagination, the cold scowl beame a warm loving smile. The hair became golden, graceful and full of life. His green eyes were gentle and soft and seemed to peer into her soul. His face flushed and smooth.
Arual sighed with pleasure, then blinked.
Bjorn's face reappeared in the cold, dark portrait.
She turned from the portrait and stalked toward a large oak door that opened to the stairs. She darted up the stone steps to her chambers where she fell to her knees and cried until her eyes were puffy and bloodshot.
"How could my father's choice think of me as 'just a woman'?" she sobbed. "Am I not beautiful enough? Am I so insignificant?"
"And how," she breathed between coughs and tears, "could his other choice, more conniving than the first, say that I am worthy yet claim that the first choice was only using me? How could he tell me that he loved me and yet crush my heart in a mighty vise? I hate them both! They are scoundrels who twist women's hearts to get what they desire. Squeeze us in their grip until we are nothing more than a feast for vultures. Still I love them both... I'm torn between the two. How can a woman truly love two men at once?"
Arual pounded her fists violently on the bed. Anger flowed from her as a torrent after a raging storm.
Then a voice, as from afar, whispered "Arual, Arual, Why do you cry? Is not my love enough for you?"
Arual spun around, seeking to discover the source of the voice.
"Why do you torment me, Oblec? Leave my heart to me. You have torn it enough."
"But do you not desire my return from amongst the dead, Arual?"
The voice swirled around the pale woman as she frightfully tried to silence it.
Suddenly, a hand gripped her shoulder, digging in and drawing blood with its claw-like fingernails. Aural wailed in pain; she screamed in terror clenching her eyes shut. The hand spun her around, and the pain stopped. When Arual opened her eyes, she found that she stared into the glinting orbs of a rougish young man. Oblec took Arual's arms in his hands and kissed her full on the mouth. She screeched and pulled herself away, slapping the man in the face.
The blow never fell.
Her hand whooshed through Oblec's airy viasge, as if he were merely a figment of her imagination.
Arual gasped as Oblec smiled and answered the woman's unspoken question, "Yes, my love, I am dead, but I am very much alive in your heart and head. I feel no pain, only passion. Passion allows me to kiss you, but you cannot hurt me."
"But how?" she began.
"Your desire has brought me back from beyond death, forcing me to return to this pitiful existence you call life. You weep and moan for the ressurection of the dead, but you know not what awaits you after you die! I tell you, I am truly living! I beg you, join me in death, in love!"
Then a thudding sound echoed from the stairs below.
Then the door burst open and another man strode gallantly in.
Then Arual's heart skipped a beat.
Then it broke.
Arual knew that there was no escape from this trap.
"I have come to save you, milday," he said, his round face glistening with perspiration. "Taborr has come to your rescue!"
He brushed his long black hair out of his face with a slide of his hand. His dark eyes burned with passion. To his enemy he said, "Oblec, you cur! Take your hands off of her! She loves me and me alone. I'll not let you touch her, you...you fiend!"
Oblec turned from Arual to face Taborr. "Young fool! To think that you, a mere child, would dare to claim a woman of this high stature as your own takes my breath away."
"Not than you breathe in case," Taborr said dryly.
Silence filled the room for the briefest moment. A slight reprieve for the tormented woman.
"Have you won her heart, boy?" Oblec asked sincerely.
Taborr could voice no reply.
"Just leave us, and I won't have to hurt you," Oblec continued.
"Oblec, please stop this," Aural pleaded, "I...I just want..."
Arual saying his name gave Oblec pause. "No milday," he replied. "This fool has brought judgement upon himself."
"Oblec, how dare you claim that right!" Taborr shouted. "You cannot hope to cast judgement upon the living!"
"Stop, stop it at once!" Arual screamed. "Can't you see what you...you...children are doing to my heart? It is breaking...it is being crushed." The miserable woman collapsed onto the floor again, crying desperatly for freedom. The two specters rushed toward her from either side, their ghostly beings colliding.
"Leave her be! She needs my promise of love!"
"No I shall never leave her side. She needs my comfort not your petty promises!"
Arual shrieked thrusting her hands through the two ghosts, escaping the chamber. She sprinted as fast as her frail legs would carry her. Toward the door....
Toward the meadow and the forest....
Toward freedom.
How could I have been so foolish, she cried to herself. What have I done? How can I free myself from their clutches?
Then she burst through the tall oak door, running. Slower, slower.
Arual glanced up at the bright blue of the morning sky, the flock of birds sailing through that ocean overhead.
Caught off-guard by the beauty of life, she stumbled and fell.
The bright sunlight warmed her as she lay silently in the soft, vibrant, dewey grass.
Arual lay there unmoving, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. The white pallor of her skin and the midnight darkness of her dress against the green canvas of the lawn created a portrait of beauty. A lonely tear slid down her pale cheek and into her mouth. She coughed as she breathed in the salty tear. Birds chirped in the trees near her prone form, and the smell of roses and violets filled her nostrils. Here she felt alive.
But her mind returned to the two specters haunting her. "Oh, what have I done?" she cried aloud. "Why must I be tormented so? Can this not be simpler? Must I love one and not the other? How long must my heart stand between two men?" She sobbed.
"You must choose me," Oblec cried, materialzing at her side.
"Don't listen to that fool, Arual. I know that you love me," Taborr said appearing across from Oblec, glaring at his foe.
"Oblec, Taborr, stop this at once!" Arual commanded. "I you. cease this tugging of my heart!" She rose to a sitting position. "My heart is being rent asunder!"
"Yes, leave us Taborr, you fool!" Oblec taunted, each word paining Arual's already broken heart.
"I refuse!" Taborr shouted. "You leave and she will be at peace!" The two figments of Arual's imagination fell again to fighting and arguing. Barely any time had passed before the two were shouting the most profane curses known to man , in vain attempt to woo their prey.
"If you two both don't stop this I will kill myself!" Arual screamed with a power she never fathomed she had. It must have been the invigorating life around her. "I will end my life if you both do not cease this stupidity. Oblec, Taborr, you should know that my soul shall never wander this Earth as yours do. I will pass on into the Paradise of Sham'ah. Your dark desires will never again be able to touch me"--angry tears coursed through the snowy vales of her cheeks--"and I will finally be free! I will do it! Do not doubt my words! I just want to live!"
Arual stopped, and a divine silence filled the meadow she lay in. No one spoke.
Then Arual continued, "Oblec, I loved you once, but your time has passed. Taborr I never loved you. I ran to you and fell into your arms when my brother died and my father vanished. When my mother died from grief, I came to you. Regardless, both of you are dead. How is a woman supposed to love that which lives no more?"
Realization struck the two spirits, and they hung their heads in silent sadness. As Arual's renewed strength brought wholeness to her mind, the two specters evanesced. Arual laid back and rested on the grass, feeling peace for the first time in years. Birds still sang, making music as beautiful as a minstrel's song. A calm breeze blew through the countryside. Arual shivered. Her raven hair, splayed like a black halo behind her head, undulated with the breath of the sky.
Arual smiled, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face.
Staring upward at the passsing clouds floating lazily across the azure depths of the sky, Arual noticed a soft golden glow slowly arise outside the range of her peripheral vision. She lifted her head and gasped.
Surrounded by a radiant aura of golden light, a rider sat perched atop a blazing white stallion. The rider was handsome, though his features were indistinct because of the brilliance. The rider pulled on the reigns, bringing the stud to a stop.
The rider spoke from the saddle of his mount in a voice as loud as thunder, yet as soft as a lamb's wool, "Lady Draegus, I have come to take you home." The voice was silky and smooth. Arual saw that the aura surrounding the rider gave everything it touched a more colorful hue. It was as if the rider was Life itself.
"Home?" Arual asked as if in a dream. "I am home. My home is just beyond you." She was in awe of this strange man.
"No Arual, this is not your home. Your home is where your heart is, and your heart is beyond this place. I have come to take you to where your heart lies." The rider dismounted gracefully, and Arual could see his face for the first time. A full, flushed face, green eyes, red lips.....
That face.....
The portrait! The face I've dreamed of!
"I... I'm not ready to go home yet."
"Then I shall wait with you until you are ready if it please you, Arual." The rider was perfect.
Arual nodded and the rider reclined next to her, gazing deeply into her eyes. His green orbs pierced her soul. The rider toook Arual's hands in his and held them, not letting go. His hands were smooth and gentle. Arual felt her fetters start to bend and break, falling around her feet like a pile of refuse.
"Milady, I shall wait with you until the coming of the Last Days, in which the mighty King of Heaven and Earth will split the skies. Throughout any trial this world can heave upon me, I will stand by your side until you are ready, my bride."
Through storm and flood, through drought and plague, through life and death, the rider waited for Arual to say the words that would send them on another journey called Eternity.
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