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I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
Prose:
Poetry:
Table of Contents
Marathon John
A Long Haired Story
Dragon
Coltsfoot
Airborne at
last
Lizzie Holiday
The Cat's Meow
books in order to think
•••
The Lord of the Wood
He m
a
de
himself
Au
t
umn I.and::;
in quest
"un-
B
elief"
/\r,.) Early Glimpse
Gemini
:Burial
The Game of Love
L€
!!ta t on Love
The
Werewolf's
Mistress
An Apology
Studying
in
the Library
To
W.W.
telos
NYS Route
Nine
They
Call
Me
a
Jew
Bill Herron
,
Editor
in
Chief
3
10
13
14
16
22
26
36
37
39
40
41
41
42
43
44
45
47
48
49
50
51
53
54
55
Kevin D. Hancock
,
Associate Editor
Dr
.
Milton Teichman
,
Faculty Advisor
Special
Thanks to Pat
Creegan
John Kraus
Gertrude Burns
Andrew Evans
Patrice Sarath
Ferg Foley
Linda
Curran
Dianne Kelleher
Francisco Sanchez
Bill Herron
Francisco Sanchez
Virginia Mades
Kevin Hancock
Kevin
Hancock
Iara Hope Zinney
Nicely Goodfellow
Andrew Evans
Douglas
Williams
Bill Herron
Patrice Sarath
Mary
Mary
Meryl Lynn Samuels
W
.
L.H
.
Bill Herron
Jim
.
Slater









We shall not
cease from exploration
And the
e
nd
of all
o
ur ex
plo
rin
g
i'iill be to arrive where
we
s
tarted
And
know
the place
for
the
f
irst time.
T
.
S
.
E
liot
2


















•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
I
•
•
•
MARATHON JOfm
B
y
John Kraus
i•iy
friend
John
is
a
runner
.
You
know
,
the
dedicated
kind.
This
means
he likes
to
run
abou
t
five miles
a
day in
total
d
isre
gar
d
of the
weather
.
lt means
he
doesn
'
t buy his
running shoes at
T
om
I~cCann
'
s
,
eit
he
r
;
he
buys
them at a run
-
ning shop
.
I
could
never see the attraction of running
.
I
t
appeared
to
be
a
do
wnright painfu
l
procedure
to me
.
I saw
it
this way •
Whenever John
ran over
to
my
place
,
w
h
ich was three miles
from
his
,
he would arrive
all
sw
e
aty and
o
ut of breath
.
H
e
'
d
drink
a
bucket of
water and
then
,
perhaps
,
ten minutes
l
ater he
'
d
be
ab
le
to
talk
again.
11
'dhy do
y
o
u
r
Jo
it
,
John?
"
I
ask him
•
"
N
ot
only
is it
fun
,"
he says
, "
It
'
s
great for the
heart
too
."
"
If
your hea
r
t has a death wish
,"
I responded
.
I was as much a
bicycl
i
ng enthusiast as John was a runner
•
H
e couldn
'
t
get me to
ru
n
and
I
couldn
'
t
g
et him to bike
.
Whenever John entered a
ma
n
athon
,
he
'
d
have
me
pedal
beside
him with
a bag full
of
raisin
s a
nd
mixed
nuts
.
~hen
he
ga
v
e
the
sign
,
I
'
d lo
w
er
the ba
g
and
he
'
d
3
t
ic
k
a
hand
into
it and
grab
a
handful
.
T
hen
he
'
d
pop
th
e st
u
ff
into his mouth
.
John
also needed tanks of water
duri
n
g th
os
e torturous races
.
I
had a water bottle mou
n
ted on my bike
.
Wheneve
r
he needed a
drink he
'd
call o
u
t
"
wate
r
11
like some dese
r
t nomad
w
ho hadn
'
t
seen an oasis i
n
th
r
ee da
y
s
.
I
would then hand John the water
bo
t
tle and he would empty it before I could say
"
masochist
."
R
e
filling that bottle could be a rea
l
pain
;
on a
good
cay John
could empty it about
fifteen
times
.
I
t
'
s
obvious
that when
I enter
a bike race
,
John
doesn
'
t
run beside
m
e
with a bag
of mixed nuts and raisins
.
Bi
ll
3







Rogers couldn
'
t
do that.
Instead,
John
keeps time for me
.
If
I
race on an oval course,
he
runs on the inside
,
back and forth
,
from
one
side
to
the other and shouts my tine as
I
pass.
By
the
time the
race
is over
,
he
'
s
worn
a diameter into the infield
.
I
am thankful to John
that
he keeps time
for me
,
and
h
e's thankful to me for catering to him.
Seeing John
race
almost makes me as sick
as
i t makes
him.
He's a ferocious
compeittor,
you see
.
If I didn't have
to
look at him while he ran
,
i t
wouldn't be
so bad.
His face
contorts
in the
worst
way after the first couple of miles of
each
race
.
He doesn
'
t believe in pacing himself either.
He
'
l l always be the
first
to line up
a
t
the starting line
,
and
the first to break at the sound of the starting gun
.
John's built for
running;
he
'
s a feather
-we
ight and tall
.
The
trouble is that there always seems to be a
handful
of
competitors who
are designed slightly better
.
So
,
John
usually
finishes a handful
away
from first place.
Perhaps the worse thing John ever did was build a trophy
shelf
.
I t turned out
real
nice and all
,
but i t didn't look
right without
any trophies
.
Ever since
the shelf was finished
,
John has been real hungry for a trophy.
The last stretch of John
'
s
r
aces
are
really
hard on
me
,
especially
when
he has a chance of
finishing
in the top three
(usually, the first three to finish a race get a trophy).
These
horrible
noises wheeze out of his mouth
,
his breathing
evolves into a series of gasps, and his skin tone fades to
fire engine red
.
At such
times
I don't know whether to cheer
him on
,
or force him off
the road
and make him stop.
"Why
do
you
do i t
,
John?"
I
keep
asking
him
.
And he keeps replying,
"Not
only is i t fun
,
t t ' s great
for the heart
,
too
."
I
may
have
been
ethnocentric to believe i t , but 1
fel
t
that
bike
racing was
more
fun than
running.
I
was
certain
that
i t
was less
demanding
.
I truly enjoyed biking-
-
trophies
or
no
trophies
.
One day I
was
to enter a
team
bike race
with
four other
guys.
At the last minute, one of the guys got a virus or some
-
thing
and couldn't make it. A team of at least four was
re-
quired to enter the race; we
'
d need
a
substitute, and soon
,
or
w
e
'
d spend the day on the sidelines
.
John immediately came to
mind.
I
called him.
"John,
I
know biking
is against your
-
religion,"
I
said to



































•
•
•
I
I
I
I
-
I
I
I
I
him
over the
phone
,
"but
would
you
consider entering a
bike
r
ace
.
:;:)
on
'
t
answer
r
ight
away
.
'.!:
hink
it
over
.
11
"
No
.
"
"
B
ut
John
,
11
I s21.id
,
"
look
::t
all the
bikin
g
I
'
ve
done
fo
r
you
,
through
thick
and
thin
,
most
ly
thick
.
I
'
ve been there
at y
ou
r side
,
feeding you
when
you were hungry
.
·,vhen
you
thirsted
,
I ga
v
e you
drink
•••
"
"
,
~
ui
t
the
crap
,
"
John
resp
o
nded
.
"
A
re
there any trophies
involved?
"
I
had
him
.
"
Are
there trophi
es?
"
I teas
ed
.
"
':J
h_y
,
there
'
s
a
t
r
o
phy
for
thE: first
pla
ce
team th
at
w
o
uld
l
o
ok mi
g
hty snappy
on that
shelf
of
yours
.
"
"
I
'
ve neve
r
ridden a
bike befo
r
e
,"
he
said
.
"
Po
or excuse
,
Joh
n
.
I
t
'
s easier than
running
,
"
I
re
-
plied
.
11
\v
e
l
l
,
I
cou
l
d
really use a trop
h
y
.
Tell
y
o
u what •
••
"
n
ere
it
ca
me
.
"
•••
I
'
ll
enter
this
bike
race
of
yours if you
en
te
r
a
r
unning
r
ace
with me
.
"
r.
:y
body screame
d
, "
no
,
never
,"
but
my
min
d
gave in.
"
0
.
K
.
,"
I
said
.
"
B
ut
wh
o
'
11 feed us when
we run?
"
•
T
he weathe
r
on
the
day
of the bike
race was
friendly
e
n
ough
.
The sky was clouded and the spring
air
was
lukewarm
.
The race organizers provided each team with an
almost
identi
-
cal bike
.
A half hou
r
was
g
iven
to make
any
modifications
.
A team could adjust the brakes
,
seat
,
or
handleba
r
s
of
its
b
i
ke
.
We
pu
t J
ohn on ours a
n
d tailo
r
ed it
t
o his powerf
u
l
legs
.
When
Joh
n first
attempted
to
pedal
the
bike
,
he wobbled
,
but soon he
gpt
the
idea
of balance
.
Al
l the running he had
done in the
past
sudde
nly
to
ok
on
signifi
cance
.
G
o
d
,
his le
g
s
were
meant to
conn
ect
to
a
crank
s
ha
ft
!
"
John
,
the
human
tur
-
bine
,
"
I
muttered t
o
myself as
h
e peddled
flat
o
ut
.
"
Look
,
Bob
,"
he called to me a
s
he shot
by
, "
I
'
m not
even
st
r
etchi
n
g
."
Biking
was easier than running
.
T
he race course was
an
o
val that was marked out in flags
a
r
ound a lar~e parking lot
.
Once
a
r
ound was half a
mile
.
T
he
ra
ce was to oe twenty
-
five
miles
o
r
fifty laps
.
I'~
e
g
uys and
I
went
over ou
r
str
a
tegy with
John
.
5














"
Basically
,
you
pedal until you get tired
,
"
1 said
.
"Then you
give the pit a
signal
that you
'
re
coming in
.
When you
'
re
in
the pit
,
get off the bike
as
quickly
as
you can and present
the bike to the next rider
.
Any
questions?"
"Yeah,
"
asked John
,
"who
goes first?"
"I
ran
'
t see
why you
can't
,
11
I
answered
.
None of
the
other fellows
had
any objections.
John
would
be sure to get
us off to a fast start
.
I
still marvelled at the speed at
which
he
rotated the crankshaft.
"Gentlemen
,
mount your bikes!" the starter shouted
.
The starting
line was in plain sight of
a
table
which
held
the
magnificient first place trophy
.
As John
positioned
his bike
on the line
,
a reflection bounced off
the
trophy's
gleaming facade and caught John's eye
.
He turned and
viewed
it
squarely
;
his breathing became
very heavy
and sweat
devel
-
oped on
his
face
.
"John
,
d
o
n't
burn out before the race starts!"
"
Pace your thoughts; take your mind off that trophy
.
your energy for the
race!"
I
yelled.
Save
The starting
g
un
couldn
'
t
have
gone off any
sooner.
John flung to his customary quick lead; he pedaled in a stand
-
ing position
.
He
wouldn
'
t
sit down.
The other nine r~cers
eclipsed him from my
view
as
he
rounded
the
first
turn,
but he
emerged
soon
,
still holding
his lead
and approaching the
straight
-
away opposite the one
where
our team
was
stationed
.
He
was widening
his lead,
it
appeared
,
as he pedaled wildly
to
the turn at
the
end of
the
straight
.
It then occured
to
me
that
I
hadn
'
t told John how to
round
a curve at
high
speeds
.
If heiried
to peddle
around
it
,
chances were that
the
inside
peddle
would
hit the pavement
with John
soon to
fo
l
low
.
If
he used
his running instincts
now
,
he
was
going
to
get skinned
.
John
pedaled into the
turn!
I
closed
my eyes and
waited
to hear a moan arise
from
the small
gallery of
spectators,
but all I
heard
was
laughter
.
"
How cruel people
can
be
,"
I
thought, "laughing
at a fallen biker." I
pried
my eyes open
.
John
hactn
·
•
t fallen
!
His speed
hadn
'
t
allowed
him
to
c
u
t the
turn sharply enou
g
h
;
he had gone straight
:into
a patch of shrub
-
bery
,
and
was
now trying to free himself from its clutches
.
B
y the time John had snatched his bike from the shrubs
the
other
racers had
passed
,
some mistakenly snickeringat him
as
they
did.
He completed the
turn
,
and headed down the
straight
which held
our
pit
area. f•':y .fellow teammates
tried
to
wave
John
in
.
I laughed at their futility
.
Wild
horses
couldn
'
t
•
~
=
•
=
•
•
•
•
~
~
•
•
~



















































•
•
•
•
•
•
Ill
I
-
I
-
"
Ca
n
'
t
t:o
sc,
fast a
roun
d
turns!"
John shouted
as
he
went
by
•
"
Glad
you agree
!
"
I
answered
.
"
He
didn
'
t stop!"
my
te
amma
te
s
complained
.
"
l
d
o
n
'
t
reckon
he
wi
11
,"
T
explain~d
.
"
~'
hat
'
s
marathon
.J
obn
."
We
may
ac
w
ell have
ta~
c
n
the
~eat off the bike
;
John was
n
ot going
to
use
it
.
He
zeroed
in
on
the
still
closely
bunched
pad;: of cikers
.
'£hey
were just c
u m
ing
out
of
the
far turn as
he
approached it
.
John modified
his speed just a touch
and
then
lcwereci his inside f oat
,
e
~{tendin
g
it as though i t
were
a
third
wheel
.
The foot scraped
the
pavement
,
keeping
the bike from
going
over
;
it was angled almost
parallel
to
the
track
.
lie
survived the turn and
came
out of
it
like
a charging bull
.
The pace
wa
s
now
halfway throu~h
the
far
s
trai
g
ht
.
T
o John
,
it
was
a
taunttm
.:
red
cape
.
iii
s
le
~
s
c
h
urned
al
most as fast
as
a
0ta
nley
powP.r
rl
r
i
1
1.
;!c
cau
~ht
up
wj_
th
the
pac
e
±
the
near turn and
did
his footwork aga
in
with
the
same success
.
By
the
time he
c
2.me
out
of
the turn
,
he
had
passed
fou
r
of his
nine challengers
.
~
alfway
th
r
ough the pit
straight
,
he had
the first position
;
he
ga
ve
the
thumbs
up
to
me
and
the
tea□
•
:his
~i
m
e
the other fellows
keut
their hands
to
themselves
.
:r.ey laug·nec
in
disoeli
e
f
.
~Jot
r:ie
.
I
be
lieved it
.
Running
di:n
'
t util:ze all
of John
'
s
store
ho
use
of
energy
,
but
now
he operated
on
e
of
the world
'
s mos
t
efficient machines
:
the
bicycle
•
Jan
n
continued at
a
matchless
pace and
pro
G
ressively in
-
creased hi8 lead
.
~:i,1
t
urn
int2:
ski
.
ll~;
becarne
r~re
and
more
refined and
efficient
.
~
y
the fjfLh
l
ap
,
he
had
lapped the
las~ place biker
,
and
b
y
the
tenth
lap
,
he did
the
name
to the
second nlace
biker
.
Cne
t
hin~
bo
the
red
me
:
this human turbine
of ours-hadn
'
t eaten
a
nut
or
-
a
r
aisin for
at
least an
hou
r
;
he :.1ight
run
out
of
fuel
and
v,e
ha
d
none to
offer him
.
~t
about
th
q
thirteenth lap
,
my
fears were
re
alized
.
Joh
n
'
8
pace
sl.::J
.cv.enerl
a
nd
hi;; face
r._re
w red
.
i:
is le
gs
no
l
o
nger churn
ed
l
ilr.c
~
powe
r
c.!
ri
11
,
hut
more
like
a
rusty
egg
-
be:-.1.te
r
.
11
1'.
rin
~
it in
,
11
I
called
Lo
Jolin as
he
approached
the
pit
area
for the
rour
te~
nth time
.
"
l,r
o way
,
"
,J
oh
n s
aid
.
"
I
st:arie
·
---
l
·
d ··
,
·
~
n
1,.1J.s
r
ace an
l
m
g
oing
7













to finis
h
it
."
"John, you
I
re
exhausted
,"
I
reasoned
.
"
·
I1his isn
'
t a
marathon
.
You have
replacement
s
.
'.'w'h
y-
don
'
t you use them?
"
"
Don
'
t
need
them
!
"
he
yell
ed
.
He
passed his team by
.
The
fellows and I were getting
a
bit annoyed
.
At
the rate
John was
going
,
his lead
wouldn
'
t
hold
but for
a couple
cf
more
laps
.
We
would
have to bring him in
ourselves
.
Only
those
who
w
ere
on bikes were
allowed
on the course
,
so
we
couldn
'
t all
run afte
r
John an
d
tackle hi~ down
.
'.I'
hat
w
ould disqualify our team
.
I thought up
somethin
g else
in
-
stead
.
I had one of the gu
y
s
get
a length of
rope
and
had him
make a slip knot.
I gather
e
d the
r
ope
in my hands
.
No
w
w
e
w
ere ready for the fifteenth passage
of John
•
.
As he rounded
the
near turn and headed mwn
th
e
pit straight
,
I
started
to~ing
the rope
with
a circular motion.
I
w
as
going to
lasso
him
.
Eere
he c
ame
,
w
he
ezing
and
all
,
his mouth
all
conto
rted and
probably
dyin
g
for
a
drink
,
and yet he was
prepared to make
another pass
.
As he was just about even
w
ith
me
and only fifteen feet beyond
,
I let the lasso fly
.
It
glanced off his
r
ight
arm a
n
d
then
fell to the pavement
.
"
Oh
,
no
.
He
got away
!"
the guys and I moaned
.
John now knew what we were up
to
.
Next time
around
,
he
'
d
probably swerve like a jack
-
r
abbit
fle
eing
from
a mongoose
.
I
'
d have to be sharp
.
It
was
becomin
g
appare
nt
that if John
got by again our team
would lo
se
first
position
and probably
for
keeps
.
The
other teams had
al
r
eady
switched riders sev
-
er
a
l
times
.
·
John was
the only stale rider on the course
.
He
r
e he
came
again
!
I
readied
the
rope
--
got it
swinging
over
my
head
.
J.ohn was hugging the inside
of
the
track
;
that
w
ould
make
my second toss longer than the first
.
T
his time I
let
go
w
ith a
v
ery large loop
.
"
No
,
don
'
t
!
"
John shouted i
n
protest
.
The
rope
arched
high
into
the
air abo
v
e the
stubborn
biker
.
The
loop
descended
ar
o
und hjs
~
l
e
nd
e
r
,
r
ebelli
ous
figure
.
I
pulled
.
Talking over that race with
John
was
always
worth
a good
lau
gh
once he saw it in perspective
.
He
had been yanked out of
acti
on
just in time to
save the
victory for
ou
r
team
.
John
w
ouldn
'
t talk
to
me for
a
w
eek after the
race
.
At first
,
he
wou
ldn
' t
e
v
en
accept
the
trophy
;
it
'
s on
his
shelf
now
--
still
the
only one he has
.
Funn
y
thing
--
1
thought he
'
d take
up
bik
-
ing after
his
r
elative success at it
,
but
there's
no
wa
y on






























•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
I
•
•
e
a
rt
b
to
get
hir
:i o
n
a
bi1ce
a
ga
j_n.
::e
says
he
'
d
.
constant
l
y
fear
bei
ng roped
•
O
h
,
h
e
'
s
still
runninc;
.
11
·:
:ver
thi
nk o
f gi
vi
n~
up runnin
i
~
?
11
I
a
sked
h
ira
f
or
the
l
ast
ti~e
•
11
!:
o
,
" he says
to me
,
"
and rer.ie
r.i
ber
t~
t
dea
l
w
e
made
,
:::
ot?
::.
ver
hear
of the
B
oston
r-:arathon?"
;.
:
ay'ce
I
could hide little wheels under
m
y running shoes
•



II



















•
•
A
L
O
NG HAI R
ED
STO
RY
B
y
G
e
rtrude
l:
urn
s
Paddy Donegan
,
a
man of immense
size
,
was
given
to
exagge
r
at
-
ing his
own strength
and fond
of
tellin
g
tall tales
.
It
was
said
that
Paddy earned
his
total
keep
,
live
d
in the best homes
and
dined
in
the fi
n
est restaurants throughout
E
urope all because of
his ability
to
think
un
the
most elabor
a
te intricac
i
es in a moment
'
s
notice.
S
ome said he
was
lazy but others
who knew
him knew he
was
w
o
r
th mor
e
than money
alone
could
buy
.
H
e had a penchant for
taking
the
m
os
t
g
l
oo
my of
g
loomy
s
ituati
o
ns and
r
e
ducin
g
the~ t
o
mer
e
trifles t
o
be endured
.
I
came
in
from the
park that dreary
,
fall day to find
U
ncle
Paddy
sitting
at
our oak kitchen table
,
drinking te
a
and
looking
like this wa.,s
a
common
,
everyday thing
that
he
did
when
if fact
it
was
three
years since
he had
last visited
.
I
:
sat
down oppo
-
site him
and
w
ithout looking
at me he
proceeded
to
po
u
r
me a hot
cup of tea and p
l
aced the
warm
,
corn br
e
ad invitingly in front of
me
.
I picked up the cup and
leaned
over it in an effort to conceal
the tears
bubbling
i
n
my
eyes
.
Uncle
Paddy
leaned back
,
lit his
pipe
,
took a puff or two
,
and then gently inquired
,
"
Now
whatever
could be
troubling
a wee
pet
,
such as yourself
,
o
n
a
fine day
l
ike
this?
"
The t
e
a
r
s b
r
o
ke
lo
os
e
from my eye
s a
nd r
o
lled d
o
wn
my cheeks
,
stingin
g
my
f
ace
.
I
m
ana
g
ed
to
sputter through
quivering lips
,
"
It
'
s the
3
odkin boys
.
"
The
B
odkin
twins were
boys
my
own age
,
that
age being
approx
-
i
ma
tel
y
nine
y
e
a
rs ole, and I to
l
d
Uncle Paddy how
they
said I
w
as
a
w
itch
and
that
they could
p
r
ove it
.
~
he proof
,
they said
,
of
m
y
being
a
witch was the wa
r
t on my lip
.
"
Aah
,"
says
Uncle Paddy
,
"
pay them
no mind
;
those
two are
p
r
icked
in the
head
."
"
Whatever do
you mean?
"
questioned
I.
T
h
e
n Un
c
lP. I
·a
ddy be
g
an to sp
ea
k in h
is
very sl
o
w
and pr
e
cise
manner
,
a~
i f
h
e
were
s
harin
g
the Rreat
es
t
o
f
co
nfidenc
e
s
.
He
said
, "
lt
w
a
s
1945 to
be precise
,
your
mammy and I
were
about our
af
t
ernoon tea
when all
of
a
sudden
the cruelest of scre
a
ms shook
us from
our
tranquil
i
ty
.
It
ema
n
ated from
the
Bodkin
'
s apartment
t
hat was
j
u
st above this apa
r
tment
.
You know of
course
the Bodkin
'
s
1
0











use to live upstairs.
Well
anyway, your mammy and
I
looked over
at one another and again the fierce noise, that chilled me right
down to the tip of my·big, brown boot, resounded through the
ceiling.
I sensed the emergency of the situation and responded
by
racing
up the stairs to the apartment above.
"Entering into the Bodkin's kitchen I spotted Mrs.
Bodkin
,
standing with her arms stuck straight out in front of her as if
rigamortis
had seized them.
Her black, furnace coal eyes stared
pleadingly in my
direction
and she was screaming
with
her mouth
open enough to have a man believe i t was a tunnel to China.
I
tell
you, child, a
more
terrifying sight I've never since nor
ever want to again encounter.
"It was some time before I realized what the matter be.
Mrs.
Bodkin had long, black hair under her arms.
It was these, very
hairy arm pits, that
was
the cause of all the commotion.
For you
see
•••
while washing
those
young twin boys of her's diapers she had
been seized by the
wringer washing
machine.
And there she was
when
I came upon her in the kitchen,
wa
iling
like a pig being taken
to slaughter, with the hair of her arm pits sucked into the wringer
part of the machine.
"Being the quickthinking feller that I am
I
sprung into the
ki
t~hen,
took my belt from ar-ound my waist and tied it around Mrs.
Bodkin and the machine.
Then,
I
hoisted both the machine and wo-
man on to my back and raced off to the hospital
with
them.
"I
had a devil of a time, afte
:::-
reaching the hospi-tal, try-
ing to balance both the woman aid the machine on one of those
narrow
examination tables they have in the hospital emergency
room.
Several doctors viewed the plight of the poor
woman
~d
after much deliveration they decided, the doctors that
is
,
to
disenga
ge
the woman by cuttin the hair loose from her arm pits.
Of course, Mrs.
Bodkin
created
much
hoopla; you can imagine
the woman's alarm after having spent a lifetime growing all that
fine hair. Fifty three years old she was at the time.
The
mother
of
13 children,
including those twin boys, and she had become depen-
dent
on her -long hair for comforting her babes.
"Now those boys ain't never been right since that day.
'fhe
reason
this be true is Mrs. Bodkin had a habit of picking up her
babies and tucking them under her arms as she went about her
chores.
However, where she once had fine, flowing hair that the
babies could snuggle up to, warm and safe, there
now
was only
stubbles.
Coarse
,
prickly, stubs of hair. And each time Mrs.
Bodkin's tucked those twins under her arms for months thereafter
that fateful
day the poor wee infants would be pricked in the
head.
Now a wart on your lipan't nothing compared
.
to what those
youn~uns had to put
up
with." Uncle Paddy ended his narrative
here and we decided to go to the park.
Arriving in the park, Uncle Paddy seated himself with the
newspaper
in a bench and I headed off toward the swing set area
where
I found my friend
Dorothy
playing.Dorothy. and I challenged
each other to see whorould swing the highest.
The dreariness of
11
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
-
•
II















■
■
■
■
•
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
the Autumn
day
vanis
hed
as
we
s
w
ung higher and higher
o
n
the
swings
into the
t
aliedoscope of
red,
gold
and
ru
st
fa
l
l
foliage of the
trees
th
at
overhung the swings.
We giggled
and
hooted
as
we
neare
d
the top
of
the
s
win
g
set
.
Th
en all
of
a
sudden
,
oti-t
of no
-
where
the Bod
kin
boys appeared and
began to
chant
, "
L
ook at the
w
it
che
s
,
look
at
the w
i
tches
,
one
-has
a wart on her lip
the othe
r
a mole
on
her
nose
."
Do
rothy
w
as stagge
red
by
th
e
onslaueht of the taunts and
wanted
to
leave
but
, "
Aah
"
,
says I
,
"
Pay
them
no mind
,
they been pricked
in
the head
.
"
"Wh
ate
ver
do
you
mean?"
,
questioned
Doroth
y.
/2













•
■
■
•
■
■
•
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
II
I
I
I
I
13





:
•
•
•
--
=
•
•
-
"
=
•
•
~
'
















•
•
•
•
•
•
•
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
COLTSFOOT
B
y
Pa
trice
S
ar
a
th
Once upon a time
a
child was born
to
a
goatherd
and his wife
.
She
w
as different f
r
om
the
other
children
,
who were
dark and squat
and coarse
-
haired
.
This one
w
as
fine
featured with
golden locks
the
color
of autumn
w
heat.
But
the most remarkable thing about her
wa
~
her eyes
,
which the village elders said were the
color of
the
da
r
kness around the
moon
.
The
goatherd
beat his wife, think
i
n
g
the
child
was
not his,
and beat
her
again when
she protested.
After
that
the
child
was
forgotten,
save for
her mother who nur
se
d her occasion
a
l
l
y
,
and
then left her to herself.
She
never spoke once
or eried
like infants
do.
H
er eyes
remained as blank as the distance between two
stars.
B
ut some
-
times her
laugh
was heard
,
a wild
shriek
or a whispery chuckle
,
eerie enough
to
make
the
young folk cross themselves
and the elders
make the sign against the evil eye
.
She grew tall and thin
,
and thus Coltsfoot was her name
,
be
-
cause her
gait
was as
awkward
and
graceless
as a pony still unused
to
i
ts
l
egs.
Indeed
,
they
often
seemed
to
have a mind of their
o
wn,
carting her into walls and trees and people.
Yet off
she
'
d
go again, running
for
no particular reason
,
and
only stopping when
she collided with
something
.
And she
was forever climbing
,
w
het
h
er to
the
roofs
of
houses
,
or the tops
of
haystacks
,
reaching
f
o
rwar
d
w
ith her long thin
arms
until she tumbled to the ground
.
St
i
ll she said no word nor cried any tears
,
and her eyes
w
ere
lik
e the center of the sky.
They said
she
w
as bewitched
and
let
h
e
r
be
,
and Coltsfoot ran and laughed and fell, he
r
hair like
t
ang
l
ed yellow flowers and her legs thin and awk
w
ard
.
A Duke and his courtiers rode by the village one say
,
and the
Bishop
,
in
his magnificent
garb
astride a white mule
,
was among
them.
Coltsfoot laughed nearby and all heads
turned.
T
hey
shivered
at her laugh
w
hile marvelling at her beauty
,
and the
Duke said,
"I
w
ill have her
in my
court
.
"
But
the
Bishop
merely replied
, "
Nay
,
my Lord, such beauty as this can
adorn only God
'
s House
."
And
so
i t
w
as.
Coltsfoot
w
as placed
in the great stone church, by the Duke's
grey castle, where she \€is dressed in robes
of silk, embroidered,
with costly jewels
.
She
neither
spoke
nor cried but
only
laughed
.
14













Yet
her beauty
was rumored
far
and
wide
,
a
nd p
eople came
from all
over the land
to
wonder at her.
Learned
men pondered
her
silence--
save
for her mirthless laughter and came to the conclusion that she
must
be made to speak.
"For
of course God has
weighed
her tongue
with
all the splen-
dour of Heaven," said one.
"Of
sorrow one can
speak
and weep,
but she
only laughs.
Therefore, she must be the bearer of all
Heaven's
joy.
To have such knowledge--"
he
sighed.
"
She
must be a saint!" exclaimed another.
"She
must be made to talk," said the
Bishop
drily,
"of
all
that
she knows, that
we
may learn."
"But
how?" said one again.
"A
tournement," replied
the
Duke who sat
quietly listeli.ng
to
the others.
"If the splendour and pageantry of Heaven has bound
her tongue, will not the splendour of Earth release it?" Thus it
was
decreed.
Knights
·
came from all
across
the
land
to the tourney.
The
field burst
with
color and noise as trumpets blared and armor
clashed.
Coltsfoot sat enthroned upon the high dais, with the
Bishop and
the
Duke at her side.
No
matter how hard they
watched
her, still she said no word, nor cried no tear, and her eyes were
like
the sun on a cloudy day.
And suddenly she laughed,
jumped
up, and ran.
With her
knockneed, flailing legs, she stumbled
off
the dais and toward
the castle.
"A
sign!" shouted the
Bishop
.
The courtiers and the church-
men ran after her, fat monks and
matrons
,
effete earls and knights
of the field, all gasping and panting and clanking.
Into
the castle she ran, with the others staggering feebly
after
her.
She turned up the narrow tower steps.
"
A
sign!" bellowed the Bishop again, and the others took up
the cry and the chase with renewed vigor, as they
panted
and per-
spired,
and
clambered and pushed
and
pulled at ech other on the
narrow w
inding
stair, to
be
the first to witness the miracle.
Some dropped out, but others fought bravely onward and upward.
Up Coltsfoot
flew, up
to
the top
of
the tower, her
awkward
movements throwing her against the walls, and her laughter shriek-
ing in the confined space.
Then
she
was
on
the top of the tower
in
a
blaze
of sunlight and a
rush
of
fresh air. She teetered on
the edge of the turret, laughing, laughing, laughing.
Not a word
did she
speak as the courtiers clustered about beneath her, faces
upturned, waiting
for
the
sign.
Still laughing her harsh,
whispery,
shrieking
laugh, she cupped
the
sunlight in
her
hands and
leaned
into the air. It
was
the most
graceful
movement of her life.
IS
•
•
•
•
•
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•
•
•
•
•
•
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•
•
•
•
•
■
•
•
■
•
•
•
AIRBORNE
AT
LA
S
T
By ~erg Foley
The
wind
s
had reached thirty knots
,
stirring up
gusts
of sand and stray tumbleweed across the Normandy Drop
Zone
.
It was
overcast
,
a
bad day for
a
jump considering the low
visibility
.
Didn
'
t
really
matter though since the plane
would
land here in
fifteen
minutes
.
The
conditions
on
the
Drop
Zone didn
'
t matter
to me
,
afterall
,
240 jumps from
B
i
-
planes
to Jets
.
Jumpin
g
became second
nature.
Ever since I
w
as
a
kid
,
parachuting
w
as an
obsession.
When I
was
six
years
old
,
I made
a
make
-
shift par
a
chu
t
e out of bedsheets and
tried jum
p
ing from the
window, but
Dad caught me
.
H
ell
,
I
got my
chance
ele
v
en
years later with
the Aill"IY special forces
,
an
d
have been jumping ever since
.
I sat under
a tree
while
wa
iting
for
the plane
,
listen
-
ing to the
N
C
O
's
bark orders as they checked their m
e
n for
proper
equipment
.
O
f
course the officers
had
gathered
in
a
huddle,
probably reminiscing
about
their days
at
West
Point
•
Everyone
else
wandered
around
impatiently
.
I
noticed
one
per
son
wa
lking
around nervously.
He
noticed that I was sitting
down taking it easy
,
so he approached me and asked
how
I was.
The Private
'
s name
was Tom
Melnyk,
a
new
arrival to the
platoon
,
a product
of N
.
Y
.
C
.
This
w
ould
be his :first jump
.
"He
y John
,
do
you
think
we'll re
ally jump today?"
"Sure,"
I
said
,
"
If
the plane ever
gets
here
."
Big Mel
was
always the
tou
gh
kid from
th
e
city
,
who could
chew
rocks
a!ld
do
no wrong
.
Back
at the
base
a
few days ago
,
I
heard
Big
t
-iel
telling everyone how he
managed
to lose the cops
in
a car
chase.
This
was
only one of his minor
her
oics
.
Now
and
then
he reminds us
of his
super
-
human
drinking
talents,
guz
-
zling
a
brew
in
record time
.
Today
was
different
.
Big Mel
still played
the tough
guy
,
but
he
did a lousy job doing it.
Big
hel was scared
•
/ b









His eyes were wide, responsive
to every sound and motion.
He
tried to hide i t but couldn
I
t.
I've
seen
lots of gu·ys
like
this on their first jump.
~el
nyk
was staring into the
grey
sky, hoping the plane would forget
i t
's
destination.
"L
ook
here,
Big Mel
,
sit down
and
take i t easy.
There's
really nothing to jumping."
Big
Mel
just nodded, and agreed that I was right.
At
that
point
,
there was the distinctive hum of an
engine
some-
where
in
the
sky
.
The
tiny dot
grew
into
the shape
of an airplane, circling
the drop zone like a vulture hunting
its
prey.
Mel
's
eyes
were
fixed
on
the aircraft; I could hear
him
cursing under his
breath.
We walked
over to the
truck to
get
our parachutes and pass
number.
We
were Pass
Two,
which
meant
that when the plane
took off
a second
time--we would be
aboard.
"You know,
Tom
,
that
'
s
your
second pack of cigarettes
since
we've been here.
Are
you all right?
"
Mel
fumbled with his cigarette, and cropped the lighter.
"
No,
I'm scared to death.
I
don't know what I'm
doing here.
When
I
signed up
i t
seemed o. k. but now
••
_.
11
I interrupted
him.
"I'll tell you what we'll do--after the jump we
1
l l go
downtown and celebrate.
How
does that
sound?"
Viel
nodded affirmatively, and
felt
a
little relaxed.
As
the plane landed on the dirt runway, i t sent dirt
flying everywhere.
Everybody
sheilded
their eyes cursing the
Airforce pilots.
It seems
to land
as
close to us as possible
to
get
evervone
dirty
.
Mel
burst out
,
"Jesus,
look at
the size
of that plane!
Hey
,
John, how do you know
when
to jump?
I
mean, will they tell you or do
••• "
I
sniled at him and said
"Just
follow me."
We watched the first pass disappear into the~il end of
the plane.
Once again the
mi
ghty propellers
turned, and the
engines roared until the
wheels
left
the
ground.
The plane
circled the drop zone, increasing
altitude
anddisappearing
in
and out of
the clouds.
It
was
searching
for the
green
smoke,
which
is
used to help the
paratroopers
know the wind
direction.
The aircraft
flew overhead dotting
the
sky with
green silk.
Big ~el
watched in utter amazement.
"It's
beautiful!" he cried.
"They look like
leaves
/7


















•
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~
I
I
I
I
I
falling
from a
tree."
Big Mel
's
tough city image melted away for a
few
moments.
I said "See,
it isn't that bad
."
At this point
,
the paratroopers
were
executing
their
parachute
landing
falls and
,
at
the
same time trying to col
-
lapse
their chutes so they wouldn
'
t drag
them
across the
ground
•
"Mel,
remember to release your
'chut
e
when you land
,
or
else you will become part of
the
real estate
."
"
Oh
yeah, sure,
I
'
ll
remember.
Thanks
."
Once again the big Iron bird had landed,aid was waiting
for its
next prey, which
happened to be us
.
We filed into
the
craft
,
and sat down on
the
iron seats
bucklin
g
ourselves in
.
~h
e
noise of the
engines
,
when you're
not
used to it
,
is unbearable and sometimes frightening.
I
noticed that
Nel
was praying and fidgeting.
The
turbo en
gi
nes
whined and the plane started
to
move,
it
'
s
ipeed,
increasing
,
un
-
til finally we
were
off the
ground
.
I
pointed to the
back
of
the plane
,
which
was wide
open
to show
Mel
where we would be jumping from.
we could see the
Drop Zone getting smaller and smaller until it blended into
the rest of the landscape.
T
he noise
was
so in
t
ense that the
Jurnpmaster had to use hand signals
.
The
Veteran Jumpmaster
l
eaned out of
the
airplane to
ree
how much further we had to
go
.
He beckoned us to stand up
,
and hook static lines. I
looked
out of the
corner
of my eye to see
if
B
i
g
lf;el
was
doing
i t
right.
He
was.
There are two li
g
hts by the door, red and
green
.
Right
now
it
was red
,
but any second it w
o
uld turn~een
and
we would
be
airborne
.
Mel
was
still frightened as he constantly
checked
his gear for defects
.
I looked
out the
ctoor, waiting
for that
magic moment
when
I
'
d experience the same freedom an
eagle
feels flyi
n
g against the sky
.
Ny thoughts
ended
quickly
when
the light by the door turned
gree
n.
The pass muffled to
the door, and
jumped out
.
At every jump I always
have
that
little
notion
of
my
chute not
openin
g
, but
I quickly disregard
it or
else it starts
to
build on
you.
I
was only a foot away
from
the door when
Bi
t
Mel
in
a
moment of nervousness
1
did.n
'
t see
me,
and accidently pu~hed
me out
.
It all
happened
so fast.
Th
e
next thing I remember is
the
wind
rushing around me
,
and my parachute being deflated
I
i

















around my ankles
.
Inresperation I tugged at my reserve chute
only to realize that the handle had been ripped off when~
got caught on the airplanes door
.
I figured that
I
had about
ten seconds left until it was all over
.
The
next thing
I
re
-
member was a hand tugging my boot
.
It
was
Big
Mel
.
"
Don
'
t
w
orry, John
,
I got you
!"
screamed
Mel
.
I couldn't
say anything
,
because I
was
too scared
.
I thought for sure
that
Melny~s parachute also malfunctioned
,
but it turned out
that he
purposely jumped
without the static line
so he could
reach
me.
Big t•:el pulled the handle of his reserve as we clung on
to each other
.
The inflated chute temporarily pulled us up
,
and then we floated down for
the
remaining five hundred feet
.
"
Jesus
,
Mel, I
don
'
t believe
it.
You
saved
me.
I
thought it
wa
s
over
."
"It's
my fault
,
you know
.
I pushed you, and
going to live with your death
on
my conscience."
smiled
and I couldn
'
t help laughing
.
His fear of
erased by the preoccupation of saving me.
I
wasn't
Big Mel
jumping
was
The
ground
was
gaining on us fast.
We tried to land the
best
we
could
,
missing a clump
of
trees by a few yards
.
We
both landed on our butts
,
but at
lea
nt
we
didn
'
t break any
bones.
Big 1
·
1
:
e
1
qutckly got up
,
and packed the chute
.
I re
-
mained seated
.
"
What
'
s
wron
g
there, Johnny? You look a little
shaken up
.
Want me to call a medic
for
you?"
"
:No thanks
.
Come ove
r
here and sit do.v n for a minute,
"
I requested
.
Hig Mel brushed the
sand
off his fatigues and sat down
.
"I don
'
t know what
to
say Mel
.
I really
want
to thank
you for risking your life to save me
.
That
'
s pretty danger
-
out
--
jumping like that
,
and depending only on a reserve
."
Mel responded,
"Y
ea
h,
J
kno
w,
hut
T've
seen
them do it
on
•rv
so I figured why not?
"
I just shook my head in disbelief
.
This guy was so
ner-
vous he
couldn
'
t
w
alk
,
and then he pulls an act of courage
that the most experienced
paratrooper
wouldn't dare execute.
"
You know
,
John
,
you
'r
e right
.
There's
nothing
to this
jumping
business
,"
he said
with
h
is distince NYC accent
.
J
9
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I







•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
We bo
t
h paused
fo
r a m
oment as the shock
of
the whole
nightmare wore off.
U
p abov
e
,
another pass was being dropped
to the earth causing
Big
Mel t
o be a proud spectator.
I
stood up, and put my
h
an
d o
n hi
s sho
u
lder.
"Mel
,
let's
go
downtown.
I think
I
owe y
o
u a
couple
."
Big Mel just grinned
an
d
murmured "Airborne."
2.0















•
•
•
•
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
.
-
~
2 '









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'
.
•
•
•
•
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■
.,
•
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■
■
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•
•
•
"
11111
"'
•
11111
r
LIZZIE HOLIDAY
by
Linda
Curran
It's
dark in
here.
Sometimes
I look up
to the small
grate,
and a
sharp
pain
stabs my eyes
from
the sunlight peeking
in. Just
a
little
sun.
Most
of the time
I live in
a charcoal world. It's cold too.
I
can smoke
imaginary
cigarettes and
blow
out white
puffs, just like I did when I
was
a
little
girl. At
least I
can walk. Only
in
a circle
though. My
chain
is
linked to
a
heavy
iron rung, anchored
in the
floor.
The
walls are stone.
I think
that's why
it's
always so cold
in here.
My shoes are worn and
my feet
go
numb often. That's
when
I
walk.
It helps
a
little. They
feed
me through
slots
in the
door.
They' re
afraid
of me
and they
never
open
it.
I heard
them talking once. They said
the
door was solid wood, about
two feet
thick. But
I
could get out of
here if I really tried. I
got out
of
the other
place.
It
was a strange
place.
Everything was
plain, and
you
never
could
go anywhere
inside
without somebody with you.
All the people
that
watched you wore grey and
black dresses,
and the
man that would
sometimes come and talk
to
me wore a white jacket.
I don't remember
his name.
Everyone else wore smocks that were
dingy
white with small
grey
stripes.
I remember
the stripes
because I used to
count
them on
my shirt. I never finished
counting them.
I
always
forgot what number
I
was
on. I had
a
friend
there.
Her name was
Emily.
She was one of
the people that
watched you.
But
she was
good. She would talk to me a
lot
and
make me feel happy.
She's the
only one
who
I talked to
about
Joseph. He
was my
little
boy.
I loved him
very
much, but he
was
bad.
He
couldn't walk, and
he
just sat in
his
chair every
day. I did
everything
for him.
At
first I
didn't mind,
but he
was so
hard to take
care of.
He
never
was
nice to me. He
said
it
was
my
fault
he
couldn't walk.
I told
him it
wasn't.
The doctors
said it was caused
by
a
childhood
disease.
Anyway, his
father
left us. I
took care
of Joseph for many
years,
but
he loved his
father more than me.
One
time
he
said
he wished he were
22-














dead
. I
asked
him
if
he meant it
and
he
assured
me h
e
h
ad
no
g
ood
reason
to
li
ve.
I
tried
to
te
ll him he
was wro
n
g
but
he
j
u
st ye
ll
ed at
me. Then
t
h
e
fire
happen
ed
.
H
e died.
The
ho
use
burned till
noth
ing
was
l
eft but ashes
.
I
t
hou
ght
he
was happy then. After
a
ll
,
that'
s
what
he
wanted,
and I lov
ed
him
enough to
fr
ee
him. But
they
came
and took me to Em
il
y.
They
sa
id I h
ad
done
a
bad t
hin
g, but t
he
y
we
re
wrong.
H
e
h
a
d
wanted to
die.
Anyway
,
I
stayed w
ith
En-
,
il~
,
fo
r
a
l
ong
time. She
told me I
was
in Matteawan
,
a.
n "
insli
tution
"
for
people
who
h
acJ
done
terr
ibl
e
thing
s. S
h
e sa
id
it
was
n't
my fa
ult
,
th
a
t
so
me part
of my
mind
h
a
d
malfuncti
o
n
ed, a
nd
th
at's
w
h
at
made me different t
h
a
n
other
p
eop
l
e.
But
s
h
e said
I
co
uld
be
good again, and
s
h
e wo
uld h
e
lp
me.
I
tru
s
ted
her
. So
I
stayed t
h
e
r
e a
lon
g time.
Then they told me
I
cou
ld l
eave.
The
y sa
i
d
I
was
lik
e
norm
a
l
people again,
but
I
knew
I
h
ad
been n
orma
l
a
ll
a
lon
g,
they just
h
ad
n't
believed
me.
I
mi
ssed
Emily
w
h
en
I
wen
t
away.
But
then
I
marr
i
ed
J
ack.
H
e
was very good to
me
and
I
cared abo
ut
h
im
as
much
as
I
ca
red
for
Emil
y.
We
h
ad
ni
ce
t
h
in~s. A
be
a
utiful
h
ome
,
ex
p
ens
ive doth
es,
a
nd
J
ack
bou
~ht
me a
hou
se
in the
cou
ntr
y
. We
eve
n
hir
ed
a
Hou
sekee
p
e
r.
H
er name
was
Ema
.
S
h
e
had
a
p
r
ett
y
da
u
g
ht
e
r
ca
lled
Sarah
.
Everyt
hin
g
was
p
e
rf
ect
for
a w
hil
e
.
Then
J
ac
k
sta
r
ted liking Sarah.
I
tol
d him I
knew
h
e
h
ad af
fection
fo
r h
e
r
,
but he
sa
id h
e
o
n
l
y
lo
ved
her like h
e wo
u
l
d
hi
s
ow
n
d
a
u
g
hter.
H
e
lie
d. They wo
ul
d spend
l
ong
hour
s
talking and
l
augh
in
g toget
h
e
r.
That
hurt
me, so
I put
an end
to
i
t
. I punished
t
hem
all
for
th
eir c
rueln
ess.
Fir
st
I
inv
i
ted t
h
em
to
visit me at my co
untry
-
h
ouse
.
I
to
ld
Ema to
bri
n
g Sara
h
and
s
tay for
a weeke
nd. The
y came
of
co
ur
se
. The
y
trusted me
like
I
h
ad o
nce
tr
u
s
ted t
h
em.
I
co
o
k
e
d
a
deliciou
s
dinner for
th
em
.
Jack
h
a
dn'
t
a
rr·i
ved yet
beca
u
se
h
e
was
fini
s
hin
g
hi
s
busine
ss
in to
wn.
l
wa
it
ed.
We
ta
lk
ed and
played
so
m
e
p
a
rlor
games t
ill
i
t
grew
l
ate a
nd
t
h
ey
retir
e
d
for
the night
.
I
wa
ited
.
After a few
h
ours
I
c
r
e
pt
int
o
t
h
eir bedc
h
amber
a
nd
covered t
heir
faces
wit
h
ch
loroform-
soaked
rag
s
.
It
h
ad
a
pleas
a
n
t s
m
e
ll,
a
nd I
wanted to
make sure the
y
didn't
wake up.
Then I
to
ok
a gu
n
and
s
hot
them each
with
eig
ht
o
r
nine
bull
ets
.
The
y
lef
t
thi
s
world
toget
h
er.
It
took
m
ost
of the
ni
g
h
t
to mov
e
t
h
eir bodies out into t
h
e
woods,
w
h
e
re
I
buri
e
d
t
hem.
E
ar
l
y
t
h
e
next
day
J
ack
arrived.
I
wa
i
ted for
him
upsta
ir
s.
He
call
e
d out
b
u
t got
no
a
n
sw
er.
He
asc
ended th
e s
tairs,
and we
nt in
to
our
b
e
dchamber fir
st.
I
waited.
H
e
wa
l
k
ed
the
len
gt
h of
the
c
reaking
floor
to th
e
gu
est
-room
. O
n
ce
inside
he
saw
the b
ed
riddled
wit
h hole
s
and
bloodsoaked.
He
turned,
gagging, an
d
stu
m
b
l
ed
towards
t
h
e
door.
That's when
I
struck
him
,
n
ea
rl
y
severing
hi
s
h
ead
from his ne
c
k. When
2
3
•
•




















I
I
I
I
I
I had
finished
I
fdl
g,,,,cl. They
had paid for
n
1istn•ating-
me.
l had
l
oved
them a
ll
but thc•
.v
proved tuiworthy.
1
1,l:1cc
d Lh
c
!'
<·
main
s
of
Jack
beneath
t
he floorb
oa
l'<l
s
i
n
the pador. Then
I dcmwd
up
t
he
mess they
h
ad
made.
I
stayed
in
t
he
count
r
_v fo
r
weeks
, but
then the
m
e
n
ca
me again.
They
aske
d m
e
l
ots
of que
sti
ons
hut
l
to
ld
t
h
em
that
En1a
a
nd
S
ar
a
h h
ad
heen di:-;mi
ssc
d
and
had
gone aw:1y.
A:-; for
.f
:tck,
w
h
y
,
h
e
wa
:-;
away
at
t
he momc;nt on
a
hu
:-;iness t
r
·ip
.
E
ve
r
y
th
i
ng wou
ld h
ave
heen fine
if
they
h
ad
believed
me
a
nd
l
eft.
But
they
sta
rted
S
(
•:1
n
:
hin
g.
Th
ey
found
Em
a
an
d
Sa
r
a
h
fi
r
sl
. B
y
that
ti
me: they
had d
ecay<:
cl
somew
hat,
and
it
was
h
a
rd
to
te
ll
who
th
ey we
re.
l3ut
th
ey k
ne
w, and
kept
looking for Jack.
Perhaps
t
h
ey
n
e
v
e
r
wo
uld h
ave
found him
,
but
t
he
stenc
h
in th
e
parlor
was
beginning to
g
ro
w
strong.
The
y took
m
e
back to
Emily. I was
happ
y
again,
a
nd I
decided
th
at was w
here I
wan
ted
to
s
ta
y
.
Emily was
ve
r
y
mad, but
eventu
a
ll
y
I
got
h
er to ta
lk
to
m
e
.
She said
I
h
ad
disap-
poin
ted
h
e
r. Th
at
I
s
houl
d
have
come a
n
d seen
h
er
when
I
was suffe
ring
from
m
y
a
n
xie
ti
es
. I
exp
l
a
in
e
d
to
h
er
I
was
quite
capa
ble
of taking
c
are
of m
y
own matters
.
J
cou
l
dn't make
h
e
r understand
that
I
hacl m
e
rely
c
or
rec.;L
ed a wrong
they
h
ad
done
.
Emily and
J
s
pent
m
u
c
h
time
t
o
get
her,
a
nd
she
agree
d that
I
s
ho
uld
s
tay at t
h
at
pla
ce
with her.
Bu
t
she
lied to
o
.
One
day s
h
e to
ld
me
s
h
e
had
to go work
al
a
different p
l
ace
.
She
said s
h
e
was sorry but it
was
n't her deci
s
ion.
I didn't
be
li
eve
h
er
!
She
just wante
d
t
o hur
t me
li
ke a
ll
the
others.
So
I
knew what I had to do
.
First
I pretended I
was sick.
Very sick
.
It
worked, and
the
y
took
me to t
he
in
firmary.
I
told them
I
wanted
to
see Emily;
I
had to
see
h
er
. I
told them
if
I
didn't
see
h
e
r,
I
never
would get hcttcr.
When the
doctor
l
cl'
t
me to
ca
ll
so
meone
,
I
took
a
p
a
ir
of
sdss
or
s
.
I
waite<.I.
Finally, Eniily
c:1me.
8he
sai
d nic
e
thing
s
t
o me, an<.I
tol<.I m
e
I
wou
ld b
e
fi nc
a
ft
e
r
s
h
e
l
eft.
But I
grew
angry and
told h
e
r h
ow
wronJ{
it
was of
her
to
l
eave
m
e
there
a
lon
e.
S
he
didn't li
s
ten and I lo
s
t m
y
temper. She
came c
lo
se
r to
comfort
me, and I lunged at h
e
r,
burying the scissors deep
in
her
chest. She
open
e
d h
e
r mouth to
sc
r
eam
but
it came out
a c
hoked gurgle
.
I stabbed
again, and again,
a
nd
again.
De
a
r Emily
fell
to
the
floor, the scissors
followin
g
h
er
down r
ea
dy
Lo
st
rik
e
. 13ut
s
om
eo
n
e g
ra
bbed
my
a
rm.
Then I he
a
rd the
sc
reamin~. It
was
l
o
ud
.
M
y ca
r
s
rang
a
nd
I
wante
d
to
be far
away
fr
o
m there
.
I
s
hu
t
m
y eyes
ti
g
ht
and
s
tarted humming,
but the
sc
re
a
min
g
didn't
sto
p
.
Pl
ease,
plea
se
! Stop
sc
reaming! My
h
ead,
m
y
head hurts!
2..
4-












I
don't
remember
much after that. The
y
took
me away from Emily
and
now I'm here.
I miss Emily.
I
regret that I punished
her.
But
I
had to. Sh
e
was wrong.
It
wasn't
m
y
fault,
it
really wasn't.
My
feet
ar
e
numb
again,
so I'm
going to
wa
lk
now
.
Around,
and
aro
und
, and
around. The
y
s
hould l
et
me
go
h
ome
s
oon, be
ca
use
it reall
y
wa
s
n'
t my
fault. Th
ey sa
id I'll be her
e
for
th
e
re
s
t
of
m
y
life.
But
I
won't
.
If
I
want
to I
can get out.
They' LL
sec,
and they'll be
s
orr
y
.
I
I
I
•












•
•
THE
C
AT'S
MEOW
b
y
Dianne
Kc
lleh
er
No,
I
'm
not
messing
aro
und
wit
h Jim
any
more
,
and I'll tell you
w
h
y
.
It
a
ll happ
ened
la
i;
t
Sun
d
ay
. I
w
oke
up around dawn
and heard
someone o
ut in the b
ac
k
a
lle
y ea
llin
g
m
e
. It
wai;
Jim's cou
s
in
Bob, the
one
wh
o
'
s
in
the
paratroops,
s
o
I
went
around
a
nd
opened
the door for
him.
"Bonnie,
cou
ld
yo
u
do
me a
big favor?"
I
told
him
sure. "Last
night Jim want
e
d to borrow
my
c
ar
and said
he'd bring
it
back
b
y
mid-
night.
He's
sti
ll
not
her
e and
I'm
gett
in
g
wor
ri
ed
-- I've
got to
be back
to For
t B
ragg
by
tom
orrow
morning
at
six
and
I'd lik
e
some
s
leep before
Monday.
He
said
h
e was going over to
Alton
.
Wou
ld
yo
u
mind going over
and
seeing
if
he's
a
t h
is
wife's?
I
wou
ldn't
as
k
but
I
rea
ll
y
need m
y
car
h
aek
."
I
've
prob
a
bl
y
never told
yo
u
about Bob.
He
was always
pleasant
en
ough,
but
awfu
ll
y quiet
when
I
used to
see
him
wit
h
Jim. He'd just sit
back
and
watch
everybody else.
But he
was we
ll-m
a
nnered and
I
knew
he
wouldn't
ask me to
go
if
he
hadn't been
in
a bind, so
I asked
him
for directions.
"Sue
lives to
the
north
of
Alton
,
on the river
road
.
You pass a 7
-11
on
the riv
e
r
i-;i
d
e an
d
turn clown the road to the r
i
~ht
o
f
i
t, and
ri~ht away
y
uu
eomc
to h
e
r
trai
lei
·."
I
as
ked him
if
h
e wanted any brea
kfa
st
hut
h
e was
going home
to
sleep
some
mor
e, so
I
threw
on
my
c
lothe
s a
nd
got
my purse and the screw
-
driver
and
the
distributor r
oto
r and
wen
t
out to put my car together.
The
second week afte
r I'
d moved to
the
c
it
y
from Poplar Bluff
some
idiot broke
I
the
vent
window
on
th
e
dri
ver
's
side
and
took
out
the
lock
asse
mbl
y.
I
still
don't know if
I
su
rpri
sed
the
thief
in
t
he
process of
stea
ling it or if he just
got a
better
l
ook at the
s
h
ape
it's in
a
nd decided it
wasn't wort
h i
t,
but
any-
way
no
w
I've
got to
start
the
car
with
a
screwdriver;
and since
I
can't
lock









it, I
take out the rotor when
I leave
so
if
anybo<ly gets any smart
ideas
again
they
at least won't get very far
in it. I've
been saving a
hundred
dollars
every two weeks
out of my
p
a
ycheck towards a new car, except
last
week,
when
I loaned that hundred
to
Jim
to
pay his bills.
Jim had been
acting
pretty funny lately. He hadn't been by
as
often
as before.
Remember
when
I told
you
how he
said, "I think
I love
you,
but
I've
got to
have
some time off
by
myself
to
make sure"?
I
figured
I
was
in
the
home
stretch with
him
and we'd
be
getting married any
day,
and
didn't
even worry very
much
when
he
got
fired
for
not
coming
in
to work.
He
told
me
the man who
runs
the shop fires
him
every
s
o often,
he just has
a
short fuse and you've got to
humor him
and then
he'll
call you
back
in a
week or so.
I didn't
wake up completely
until I'd
crossed the river, and then
I
started worrying about
barging in
on Sue and
Jim.
Just what would
he be
doing over
there all night
,
anyway?
I
could see that
he might have
spent
the evening with
her,
since he'd want
to
get their divorce
lined up
before
we could get married.
Of
course, maybe they'd
had
a few drinks for
old
time's sake and
he
thought it would
be better
to sleep over
and not take
a
chance
in Bob's car.
Jim told
me she drank a
lot. That
was why
he'd left her
not too
long
after she
had Tina,
about ten years ago.
They'd never
gotten divorced
because
there
really
wasn't any reason to --
not until
now -- to spend all
that money
for lawyers
and court fees. As Jim
used
to say,
he'd
rather
take
that money
and
spend it
on his daughter. It
made sense
to me
at the
time.
I
passed the 7-11 and turned down
the
dirt
road.
What
I
saw in
front
of me
was everything
I had left Poplar
Bluff to steer clear
of.
A
beat-up
trailer
was set across a
dirt
yard from the road,
which
ended
there
with
a
rusting
car
up on cinder blocks.
Toys with
paper labels peeling
off
them
were strewn around
in
the
dust near the door.
There was
no
other car
in
running
condition
there
that
I
could see. No wonder
Jim had left
a mess
like this.
From what I could
see
of
Sue she was
no prize
either.
She had her
back to me
and was
pulling half-frozen laundry off
the
line. Her jeans
were
all
bagged-out in the
seat
and her hair hung in
thin
limp rattails
across her
shoulders.
"Susan Bowman? Would
you
know
where
Jim is? His
cousin
Bob
lent him his car and was expecting it back last evening."
She
must have
27
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•
























•
•
b
een
wondering how
1
came
to be there
.
"Bob
t
hou
g
ht
Jim might
be
here
and
asked
if
I
co
uld
come
b
y
and chec
k.
H
e
'
s gol
to
be
back
to
Fort Bragg
by tomorro
w
morning
."
H
er
teeth
l
ooke
d
te
rrible.
"I haven't seen Jim
at
a
ll
latel
y. S
orr
y."
S
he looked
over
my
car
and must
ha
ve
noti
ced
the license. "Did
y
ou
drive all
the
way
over
here
from
St.
Lou
i
s a
lre
ady t
hi
s
morning?"
W
h
en
I
told
h
er
I h
ad, s
h
e asked
me if I'd like
a
c
up
of
coffee before
I
drove
back
.
I
was
sta
rtin
g
up
L
h
e
woode
n
sta
ir
s w
hen
so
mething, which
I
took at
fir
st
to
be
a
r
a
bbit,
l
eapt o
u
t and
ran
across
the dirt.
"You
h
ave
r
ab
bit
s out
her
e?"
"No,
that's
No-tail
the
cat,
she's got
h
er
kittens under
those
steps.
She ran
w
ild
a
nd
I
only saw
her
ar
ound
s
ome
t
ime
s
but
when s
he h
ad
babies
s
h
e
brought
t
hem h
e
r
e and
put
them
unde
r
the
steps
. See
?"
She put
her
l
aundry dow
n
a
nd
pulled
out two
kittens,
s
qu
eak
ing
a
nd
squirm
in
g aro
und
in
h
e
r h
ands. No-ta
il
ran back
out
from under
t
h
e car
a
nd
watc
h
ed
. They
we
r
e
both
g
r
ay
li
ke their
m
other,
but
fal
and
nuff
y.
Th
ei
r
eyes were c
lear.
"S
he
only
h
ad
the two. Would
you
li
ke
o
ne?"
I
told
h
er sure.
A
cat wo
uld
be
so
m
e
company w
hil
e
I
was
waiti
ng
to
get married
and
h
ave c
hildr
en of
my
ow
n. Sue
see
med
to wa
rm
up toward
me
a
little,
the way
p
e
ople
do
if
y
ou'll
ta
ke
kittens
off their
hand
s.
I
was s
urpri
sed at
the inside of the trailer.
I
h
ad expected
stacks
of gummy dishes
in
the
sink and eve
r
yt
hing
s
melling
o
f
sta
l
e
beer
.
The
kitchen fl<Jor was clean and waxed.
1
was
w
a
t
e
h
i
ng for
liquor boltles when
Sue opened
a
nd
c
lo
se
d
c
upb
oa
rd
s
and
th
e
refri
ge
r
a
t
o
r
Lo
get c
up
s
:
m<.l
sugar
and milk, but
I didn
'
L
see a
n
y.
Sue turned
on
the oven,
o
pened
the door
a
nd put her frying
pan
upside
down on the top of
th
e
stove
wit
h
the
handle
h
anging
over
the
front
.
Then
she
sorted t
hrough
the
stack of
l
a
undr
y,
picked
out some
little
socks,
boy's
und
e
r
s
hor
ts a
nd
a T-shirt
a
nd l
aid
them across the
pan
handle.
"They
don't
get
the dampne
s
s o
ut
now that
it's
f
reezing.
I
don't
know
where
to
send you
if
y
ou'r
e
lo
oking
[or
Jim.
J
thought
h
e
was s
la
y
in
g
in
8t.
Louis
no
w.
He
y, wa
t
c
h
th
is."
No-ta
il
was
pawing
at
the
door
.
S
u
e went
out and
put
a
bowl
of
food
down
fo
r her
,
which the
cat
n
i
bbled
at
.
"Now
watc
h." We stood inside
the
door and
waited
.
When
No-tail was
done and
was
hing her
ears, a
big
shaggy
tom
amb
l
ed
out of
the
brush
and
ho
gged
th
e
lef
tove
r
s,
th
en
stretched
out
in
the
s
un
and
s
lep
t, ignoring the kittens that
h
opped
on
him
and
tried
to catch
h
is tail.




















Sue
took
the
dried
c
lo
t
h
es
off the
pan h
a
ndl
e
.
''
How
many children
do
yo
u ha
ve?"
I
asked
her.
"Three.
Tin
a's
ten now,
Sa
ndy'
s e
ight
and
Jimmy'
s
five. H
e
re's
yo
ur
coffee.
I
'm
n
ot
ha
ving any
with
you
now because I just got
off wo
rk
and want to
rest
soon.
11
"Sure .
.
. how do
yo
u
get
there,
if
your
car's
b
eing
fi
xe
d
?"
"O
h
,
it's just up
t
here
at
the
7-
11.
I
work t
hre
e
nights a
week
and
if
anybody's out. When we moved
her
e
Jim got the
job
with the trailer,
and
afte
r
he
l
eft, the manager
let me
stay on
.
I used to
f
ill in
a
lot before
that anyway,
w
hen Jim
was
n'
t around. So
I
don't
need
a
babysitte1· or a
car, really,
and
we don't
h
ave
many
expenses
unless
some
bod
y
gets
sick
.
On
ce
Jimm
y's
in
sc
h
oo
l I
may
look
for
a
day job
so
we
ca
n get out
of
here
.
11
"
D
oesn
'
t
Jim h
elp you out at a
ll
? Not
that
it's my bus
in
ess
.
Sorry."
"I'm
sor
r
y
too. No he
doesn't and
he n
ever
h
as.
I
tried once to
get
a c
ourt
orde
r
to
ga
rni
s
h
ee
hi
s wages
bu
t
he
h
as
hi
s
boss
pa
y
hi
m
just
a small
c
h
eck
and
the
rest
in
cash so
I
can't touch it.
I
guess
I
s
hould
ju
st
be
glad
I don't h
ave
to
support
hi
m a
nd
the kids.
I
really shouldn't
have married
him. I
just
did
it
to
h
e
lp
him
out."
"How's
that?"
This
certainly wasn'
t
the
way
I'd
heard
it.
"We
ll,
my father took him
to court
for
child support fo
r
Tina,
and
Jim
found out
he
'd ge
t
a
bi
gge
r
a
ll
otmen
t
from
t
h
e Navy
(h
e was
in the service
then)
if
he had a
wife and
bab
y s
o he
figured
he
might
as
well get married.
Sure didn't
c
hange him
any, though, no
mo
r
e than
it
would
that
cat
out
in
the
ya
rd
."
By
now the
kid
s we
re
up
and
s
l
amm
ing
aro
und. I
was
getting
read
y
t
o stand
up
and
rin
se out my cup and
l
eave w
h
en a
nother
car
pull
ed
in behind
mine. A
t
h
in
girl
wit
h h
er
h
air i
n
curlers
came flying
up
t
h
e sta
ir
s,
snapping
th
e
screen door
b
e
hind h
er. She
l
ooked a
t m
e an
d
s
low
e
d up
a
littl
e.
"C'mere, Sue,
something
'
s
happened,
come o
n
outside
a
minute
.
"
I
guessed
I
wasn't supposed
to h
ea
r. How
eve
r
,
you
know how those
trailer doors
and
windows
shrink
away
from their
fr
ames a
fter
a
few
y
ears.
The girl talked away,
lo
w
and fast, and then Sue
sai
d
"WHA
T l
" and t
hey
both let
their voices get
up loud
e
r.
I
co
uld he
a
r
"Jim this" and
"Jim that"
Lo/
•
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I
I
I
•
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and got
so worrie
d I
didn't
en.re any
more
if
il was rude,
but
opened
the door
and asked just
w
hat
was going
on.
"She may
as
well hear
th
is
now," Sue said. She
looked
even
l
ir~rler
than
before.
"
I'm going
to get
the
kids'
breakfast and then
la
y
dowu. You
can have
w
hatev
er
kitten
you c
hoo
se.
Bonnie, this
here's my
sister
Charleen. Jim'
s
cousin sent over
Bonnie
to
find Jim and get
hi
s
car
back."
Charleen prollably ~u
e::;sc
d there wa:-; more to it
than that.
She
looked
al me real
c
lo
sely
.
"We
ll
!
Jim'
s
in
jail."
"WHAT!" Now it
was
my turn.
"That
's
right. Assault, and drunk and disorderly.
He
was
beating
up
on
hi
s
gi
rl
friend'
s
mother,
and her other daughter called the
police."
Su
e
ca
ll
ed o
ut
from
the k
itch
en.
"Which
of t
ho
se
Roberts girls was
it
,
Char?
LuAnn?"
"Oh
no, it
was
that Li
s
n. Ann,
the
one with
the bla
c
k hair down to
h
er
waist."
To
me
s
he
said, "You see,
he
was
trying to move
hi
s
clothes and
things in
,
to move in
with
her.
H
e's
be
en
buying
Lis
a
Ann all these
presents,
her moth
e
r
told
me --
just
l
ast
week
he
got
h
er one
of those
rabbit-fur
jackets.
I've
seen them
all
over.
Y
ou
can't
ge
t
one
anyw
here
for
less
than
sixty-eight dollars.
11
"It
cou
ldn't hav
e
been Lisa Ann," Sue called out. "She's
only fourteen
or
so.
Wh
y
wou
ld h
e want to move in
with
h
er fam
il
y
and all?"
"She's sixteen now,
Su
s
ie.
See,
her
mother remarried and they
m
o
ved real
far out,
so s
he
was staying
in town
w
ith her ne
xt-o
ldest
s
ister
(th
a
t's LuAnn)
to finish
hi
gh
s
chool.
Her moth
er
say
s
Lisa Ann told
her
she met Jim out dancing
in
September.
H
e
gave her
some
phony
name,
and
of course
s
he'
s
too young
to
have remembered
him
from around
here. Well,
anyway, last
night
he drove up and
sta
rted unlo
ad
ing
st
uff
and
LuAnn
told
Lisa
he
co
uldn't
s
t
ay. She
sta
rted crying
a
nd
Jim started yelling, so
LuAnn
l
ef
t
the house
a
nd
called
her
molhc
.
r. She tore up
ther
e
and
her and LuAnn
went ha
ck
in.
'You
can't tell ME w
h
n.
t
to <lo!'
.
Jim
say:-;
lo her, 'or Lisa
Ann eith
er
!'
Maybe
he
didn't know
ju::;
L
how
old
s
h
e
was. So
LuAnn
and
her
mother
sta
rted
pitching
hi
s
s
uitcase
and
shoes
a
nd
coat out the window, and
he pulled her
back
and
pun
c
h
ed
her
,
and LuAnn called the
police."
"Hmmph!"
I
said.
A
n
d t
hen
,
thinking fast: "Where's
LuAnn's place?
Could be his
cousi
n
's car
is
st
ill
over
th
ere.
11
30












"It's on Van Buren, the north
side of
the
street.
It's the second house
after
you cross over
Thorne." And
Charleen
turned
away
and headed for
her
car.
I
went
back inside
to get my coat and
pocketbook.
Sue was gone,
in
bed
already
I guessed, and the kids were finishing their cereal. Tina
and
the little
boy
took
after
their
mother,
but
the
middle girl looked like Jim.
I
asked Tina, who was clearing
away the milk
carton and
cereal boxes and
who looked like
she
might have
some sense,
if
I
could
borrow
some shears
.
"I'll
be
back in
a
half hour
to get the
ldtten, and I'll leave them off then,"
I
told
her. She poked through
some drawers
and cabinets, found them, and
turned
them
over
to me.
I
tried them
out. They
were crisp-feeling
and
not the least bit loose.
"They'
re
my mother's
best pair,
" Tina said,
"so
be
sure to give
them
straight to me so they don't get ruined."
I smiled at her, and
she
smiled back. I knew
just what she meant. That
other little
girl,
I
wouldn't
give
you a dime for
her,
she was smacking and slobbering around
in her
food
something
awful. And
of course
the boy
was twitching
up and down,
running his
cars around
the
salt and
pepper
shaker
and
talking
up
a
blue
streak. However could
Sue sleep?
It
was a shame about
her teeth.
I
drove out
of the
yard,
being
careful
not
to
hit
any
cats, and
asked
directions to Van Buren
at
the first
gas station
I came to. It
was
all the
way
in town. I parked
on the south side of the street where
I
could
watch
the house door,
and settled
in to
wait.
It
wasn't
long before,
sure enough, out comes what
had to be Lisa
Ann,
wearing
that
foolish rabbit-fur jacket and wobbling around on a pair of high
heels, heading
towards town.
What
a
sight! Jim should have
given
her a
trick-or-treat
sack while
he
was at
it.
It was no
trouble catching
up
with
her
.
Between those shoes
and the
jeans she was
wearing, she could scarcely
move. I put my hand on her
shoulder
when she
was
a
block
from the houi-;c
,
and
turned her around.
"Lisa Ann Roberts,
aren't you?"
She
said "Yes"
before
she
had
a good
look
at
me. When
she
noticed
the
shears
in my hand, her
eyes
bugged out and her chin went back till she
really did look like a rabbit. I tightened up my hold on her arm. Under
the
jacket,
which
she
hadn't
zipped
up, I
could see
she
was
built real skimpy.
Of
course, I was pretty small at her age, but I've fi
ll
ed out a lot since then .
She
was just
a
child
and her mother ought
to
get her back home and sit on
her
a
little.
31
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"
•
"Sec here, Lisa Ann," I said, tapping the front of her jacket with the
shears, "you're swimming out of your depth messing with
Jim
Bowman."
Her chin started quivering. "That's
his
real name, you
know."
She nodded,
still staring at the shears. "Furthermore,
he's
twenty-nine years old and
married. And
he has
!._hree kids. AndJ'm his girl friend
-- or I
was till
I
found all this
out." I
stopped.
I
hadn't really thought about that,
till I
said
it.
Did
I
want
to
bother
with Jim any more? And
if not,
why
was I here
ranting
at
his
little
high-school honey?
She
wai-; crying and
i-;
hivcring.
"Zip up
yo
ur
coat.
I
wa8 going to
cut the fur oil your jacket :ind hack up
you
r hair,
but
I
can sec now there's
no
se
n
se
in doing that.
I'm
not going
to harm
you. But
just
to show you
I'm not
lying
I want you to come
along
with me
and
see
how
that jackass
lets his
family
live.
Look, I'll put these shears away."
I
went
to
put
the scissors back in my coat pocket but there wasn't
room,
whic
h
made me
mad all
over again. I had a pair of knee socks
stuffed
in
there, and
I pulled
them
out
and
wagged them
in Lisa
Ann's
sh
in
y
little face.
"Do
you
call
this fair'?"
I
H
houted
at
her.
"Do you?"
She
looked at me like now
she
thought
I h
ad
gone crazy.
"Look,
Lisa Ann.
I
don't
have
any gloves to wear when it's cold out,
and so I use these knee socks. I double them over if
it's really
cold.
There's a
lot
of stuff I need, but instead of saving my money for myself
I
loaned it to Jim because he was out of work
and
wanted to
pay his
bills.
That's
what
he
told me
last
week. It turns out that's a
lie. And
what did
he
do with my money?
He
bought you that silly coat, that's what.
Is
that fair?"
Lisa looked at me funny again when she watched
me
start
up my
car
with the
screwdriver,
but she didn't say a word all the way
out
to Sue's
place. When we pulled up I
co
uld
sec
her
taking
it
all in, the car on blocks,
the dirt yard, the two kids playing
in
the
dust.
l
had her
stay
in
the car
while I
returned the
s
hear
s
to
Tina
so
s
he
wouldn't i-;cc
how much nicer
it
was
inside
the trailer. That wasn't
Jim's
doing, anyway.
I
picked
out the
scrappiest of the
kittens
-- a
male
with double paws
in front -- and
waved
good-bye to Tina. Then
I
drove Lisa Ann back to Van Buren.
She
was
no
company at all and
I
was tired of explaining things to
her.
On
the
way
home
I
stopped
to get some cat food and a
litter box and
a
can
of
pingpong
halls, and was
scarce
ly in
the door when Bob was calling
outside
agai
n. I'd
forgotten ahout
his
car.
"Bonnie,
Jim's
in jail!"
32-















"Really? Whatever happened'?"
"He
had
somebody call me and
let
me lmow"
(who? I
wondered. Some-
body
else I don't
lmow
about?) "and they
brought back
my car.
He
wanted
me to
ask you
if
you could help
out
on his bail.
I
don't
lmow
what
he's
in
for, some fight or something. "
"Well, !_know
what
he's in
for. And
I'm
sav
ing
my
money to buy him
an asbestos-lined rabbit
suit
to wear
in hell." 1
s
lammed
the window down.
After
1
had gotten the kitten's things
lined
ou½l went
hunting
through
the basement till I found what
I
was looking for, a mop
handle. I
put it
inside
my coat, got three pingpong balls and slipped them
in
my purse, and
walked
over
to where Jim kept
his
car
in
the parking
lot
behind the Ontario
store.
There was no one in
sight
ne
ar
Jim's car when
I
got there, but to
cover myself
I
pretended
to
drop my purse. I bent down, pulling out the
mop
handle
on the way, and
took
the pingpong balls and rammed them up
the
tailpipe. I've
heard this
wi
ll
wreck a car as
well
as
sugar in the gas
tank, but isn't detectable the way sugar is.
Back home, I
put
the mop handle back
where
I'd
found
it. I
felt
considerably
better
now.
However, I
still had a
lot
of energy
left over,
so
I
decided to go bowling.
I
t
was still just early afternoon and
I had
plenty
of time to fix a meal and get ready to go out.
The dishes were washed up and
I
was taking the last curlers
out
of
my hair when
I
heard Bob at the window again.
"Oh Bonnie? .
.
. could
I
come in a minute?"
He
was already in
hi
s
uniform and would have to get going if
he planned
on
being back on
post by
Monday morning.
He
stood
around
by
the
door
after
I'd let him in.
"Uh, Bonnie,
Jim's
out
on
bail, and staying in
Illinois. He
called
me
up and
I
told
him
what
you
said .
.
.
he'
s
real mad at you.
I thought
maybe
I
shou
ld let
you
lmow
that
he's
threatening to stomp your
teeth out.
11
"He can come ahead
and
try.
I have
a twenty-two by my
bed
and a
lmife
in
my purse. You might tell
him it'd
be easier to
pick
me off at a
distance
than
to
try
hitting
me
like he
did
his
babydoll's
mother."
33
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Bob looked mo1·e
embanassed yet.
"I don't intend to talk to him
again.
I
've
got to get back
tonight.
You know, I don't care for what
he's
done,
even
if he is my
cousin.
And I don't like the
way
h
e
lied
to you
and
a
ll
,
Bonnie." He
looked
around at
the walls.
"You sure you
don't
wanl
so
me
coffee or
anything before you
go?"
"O
h
,
no, l just
stopped
by on my way oul of town
-- l lhink
you're
real
nic:e, Bonnie. Even
if
Jim's my
cousin,
<lo
you
think you'd
care
to
write to
me
'?
And
if I
came
back to St. Louis, maybe we could
see
each
other? I'll fix
your car
,
too. I don't think any
less
of you
because
you,
ah, liked Jim. You
couldn't
have known
about
him
till you met Sue."
I had
a
s
udden
s
uspicion, but
nob wa
s
n
'L
looking
at
me.
"What
do you
say?
I've
got
my
address all written
down here."
He pulled
a
piece of paper out of
hi
s
pocket.
I
told
him
sure
.
I
mailed a
lett
er
to him
Tuesday.
Just
before
I
woke up
this morning
I
dreamed Jim was sitting at the
foot
of my bed, laughing
and talking and tying
up his shoes. And
when
I
sat up, and saw that
he
wasn't
there, I
actually started crying
before I
realized what
I
was
doing. That's
all
over now.
And
if you'll excuse me,
I'll
go
check the mail.
3
4-





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1111
•
Ill
Ill
Ill
Ill
Ill
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books in order to think
•••
a man of book
s
thinks;
And if he does not have any books,
then he will imagine that he has
books
in order to think;
but if he has books
And does not think,
then those books do not belong to
him •••
Francisco Sanchez



















The
Lord
of the Wood
That heavysnell is in the woods again,
Those heavy
-
footed things with their
metal
l
ic sounds
and glint; sometimes
a smell
like burning leaves
.
Could it
be that time again,
so soon?
I should be deep in the thickets
today
But
the moon was dark last night
,
I couldn't see
.
And
Now
I
want ripe apples
,
clover, grain
Hunger for the rut
;
a tender
she-
-
I
paw the
eart
h
and scrape my antlers clean
(How me.ny times have I done this?)
Against a slender maple tree.
Hell with these rustling, racket
-
making
things;
Today's a good
day for the
rut
,
Hah
!
It's a
good
day to die.
by
Bill Herron
3
7
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He made himself
.
He drew a circle out of nowhere
;
And out of that circle
he made many other circles
;
And out of those many other circles
he made light.
?here was too much light,
And out of too much light
he made
much darkness
;
And out of much darkness
he
made
much fear;
And out
of
much fear
he made
God;
And out of God
he
made himself
.
by
F
rancisco
Sanchez








The
virtuous
sun
is mirrored in fragments
On
the cold river
late in november.
It peers through the cloudbank
(tightwoven,
angelhair)
over stern buildings
and slumbering mountains.
Virginia
M
ades
Autumn Lands
Fierce
winds throw leaves
foming a
puzzle
of
scarlet,
gold, glittering brown.
Here we are near
hills,
both vital and vulnerable.
Virginia Mades
fO
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I










"in
quest"
beyond suburbia
clouds
drift by
silently
perform-
ing
drama;
ma
g
ic
in the
sky
belies sudden shift-
s of structure and
Form; a cat gives
birth
to an
apple
emphatically
employing
soliloquy.
The
winged horse
is
become Daedalus;
away stealing
gifts of
the gods
Prometheus bound-
s with no feet
upon the ground;
Shapes do not tire
of their hands
on fire, lift-
ing
mankind above
the pyre; Ah! but
wait and see
Suddenly
a cloud is
torn from
root
Magically
led onward like
the piper and the flute.
t
I
"un-
Be
lief"
We
do not believe
in
gods
anymor
e
,
or
philo
so
pher
s
li
k
e
John
Wa
yne.
'fhe old man who
owns the
only
local drugstore
has passed away;
he
had his
eyes
fixed on
the
only
local
theatre
-house
on
Mai
n
St
reet.
He
wore spectacles
on
his
feet.
On
Sundays
he
rested and read
the only local paper,
and noted the scores;
he did
not
believe
in politics.
Old
men
do
not
believe
in
politics.
by Kevin
Hancock













AN EARLY GLIMPSE
I
heard your
soft melody
whispering,
w
histling a
telling
timely
moment of your entrance,
Your song
whirled
in the eye of the stream
,
and my
face caught your hint with a
wink
of sunlight
,
Yet we
a
re
fooled for this day alone, your stay has
been postponed
••••••••
but you knew that all
along and only listened
to
us trying to
keep
up
with
Your teasin
g
tune.
by
Dara Hope Zinney
(the
old alchemist)
With fire and ice
and my pet cockratrice
I tried to turn lead into sold
;
But
all
I transfonned
was my feet
--
to a bird
'
s
and my health
,
to a bad head-cold.
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
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Gemini
(1):
ease (an aimless joy)
I smoke
a bowl of captain black
And
toke
a bowl of green;
Meditate on human fate,
Sit
back
and
view the
scene.
O
"Wisdom is a butterfly"
So
I've
returned to
getting
high.
(2):
obligation
Let it
go for
awhile;
Mr. Zip's smile
Is growing
kind
of stale.
What's the good of
altered ~ates
If the
rest
of my life should fail?
hy
nicely
goodfello
w
?-3











Burial
Bury me not
,
where mourners abound,
but bury me
by a tree stump
in a hole in the
ground
.
Let it be a primeval place
where
lichens
,
fungus
and decay
will gr ow on my face
.
Let the
r
e be
i"
lies
.
So
they can lay
their eges
and let th
e
ir larv
a
eat
the
me
a
t
of my
le
e □
•
Let there be spiders
So they can suck me dry
and feed their families
what was left by the flies.
Let there be worms,
to drain my marrow dry
so my bones crack
half a mile wide
.
Let the
r
e be ants
to colonize the rest,
and carry things
in and out
of my empty chest.
A burial by nature
this is for me
back in her lap
for eternity
.
Andrew 1'vans
ft














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•
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The
Game
of Love
To
play
the game, that
I
call love,
To
t
ap
my resources from
above
,
To
wr
ap my
arms around
someone
sweet,
To deal with things I sometimes meet
,
To trap the
one I
love the best,
To say "hi
II
to others and "bye" to the rest,
To say
"
I
love you" to my own love,
To caress
,
to hold,
like
a dove.
And
now
I've tapped,
rapped,
planned and plotted
,
What is love?
·
Have I ~ill got it?
by Douglas Williams
f5







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.,.
.,.
,.
Le
Iv:at
on Love
My little dog climbed
on
my knee
&
I kissed her with my tongue
.
This was
accounted foolishness
By the fools I
w
alked
among
.
0 some call love a goad
,
Some call love a heavy load.
Some call love a crooked path
,
&
some call love
a
mask
for
wrath.
Some say i t
'
s a fever in the blood
;
Some say love
'
s another name for
God
And turn and
drag
that name in dung
.
Well all their figures may be c!)t; and yet I .iai
l
to see
W
h
at
true love is; what human love should be
.
I return
in
kind what's
given
me
.
My
little dog and I agree.
by
Bill
Herron
4-
7













THE WEREWOLF'S
M
ISTRESS
Oh Lover, please, I beg thee, stay!
'
Tis not yet
the
li
g
h
t
o
f
day!
B
y your own
eyes
'
ro
s
y
glow
1
aee
The hour
'
s barely ten past three.
So come back and tease me with your pointed
smiles,
I command you, back
-
just a little
while!
Oh Lover, please,
do
not
go!
False
da
wn
is just
the
mountain
'
s
g
low.
"
Tis only four
-
lay you back
,
Let me smooth your rumpled
back
.
Your palms are
dampened hairiness
,
Velvet softness to carress
.
Oh
Lover, stand not
and sce
nt
the wind!
Corn
e
back
to
me,
my
l
iebeskind!
Nay-
go!
For grey has turned the
da
wn!
Alas!
Too
late!
For
it is morn
!
Patrice Sarath
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,.
,.
An Apology
I have absorbed you:
I
know
your
crippled
stillness
,
listen
to your resentful resignation
and clutch your
despair
with rapt
grey
eyes •
And
,
a year and more ago,
I
tried to write you
to end the obsession of being without you
by forcing you to lie on
·
a
page
for
my
~en
to write you
•
And now, a year and more
later,
(which letter?
•••
which vowel?
••
•
which
sound is you?)
I
retch to
find that
I
cannot
write
you~
I
can only
write
that
I
cannot
•
by
Mary
f9






















Studying
in
the
library (again)
H
ey
!
hr
e
you
ov
e
r th
e
r
e
?
I
'
ve be
e
n sittin
g
in this
a
tupid
cubicle
-
thing
for nearly an hour
--
I
'
ve
been
trying to absorb
P
olk
'
s
P
residency
•••
Are
you
still
bre
at
r,
ing over there
On
the other
side
of this box?
Hey
you!!
You on
the other side of
this simulated wood
w
all
,
What
are
you up to?
Would y
o
u get your knickers in a tw
i
st if
I
stood u
p
and
peered over
the
w
all at you?
~'/o
ula y
o
u
sa
y it was a vio
la
t
i
on
o
f
your fir
s
t amendment
ri
g
hts?
Hmmmm
••••••
I
guess
you would
at that
•••
Maybe
I
should try a more intellectu
a
l
app
r
oach
.
Want
to
play footsie?
No
,
I
bet you
'
re
e
ven
too
i~tellectual
for
that.
How
about
if
I
tie
your shoe laces together???
Then
,
again
,
you might not
appreciate
that very much
•••
This
is
becoming
quite a
challenge for
me •
••
I
don
'
t get out much
,
you
know
.
Now I
know you're alive
over there
.
I
can
'
t hear
you breathing,
hnd
I
can't see your face
---
But
!
!
I
can h
e
ar
you
shuffling papers
,
And I can see
your
wiggling toes
I
j
ust
know you
'
re
there
;
So
,
I
'
11
si.
t here
Unti
l
I
figure out a way to
g
et you
t
o
notice me
•••
by Mary
,
•
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-
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:
•
•
•
■
■
•
To
W.
Vi
•
I scrawl my A
B
C's and love
lett
ers
On
sheets of pink toilet paper,
And
you are my
crayon
•
I can be myself with you.
I am sandpaper and baby's breath
I am the fifth dimension
in
a
Four-dimensional world.
I am the
whore who
put strawberries
And
whipped
cream on your glistening b1ack frame
and indulged in the sweetest dessert.
I am the executive
secretary
who
Purposely tripped on an imaginary cleavage
In the kinky black curls of your hair
So
the
very
real you could catch me
•
I
am a mother nursing you with
The burgundy of my breasts.
I am av irgin
Naive and
fragile
Afraid of being touched, afraid to touch
.
I
am
as real
as
a black
wo
man
can be
.
I am
a scholar
willing to
absorb
each
page
Of the book
called "You".
I am a clown laughing
with
the slightest
~uiver of the corners of your mouth
.
I am a restless spirit
with
thumb in air,
Won't you travel
with me?
I
am
the
journey.
Meryl Lynn Samuels










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II
II
•
II





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telos
Power is of the body
;
Direction is of the soul •
They support each other
.
Together
,
they create a whole
•
A hole? A whole •
•
•
A whole hole
;
A holy whole
.
A whole
--
space
•
Space is a hole
1
And of a whole
•
Like the body
,
Like the soul •
The whole
,
holy hole
(That space):
the goal
•
W
.
L
.
H
•





NYS Route Nine
I first saw the cat, new-killed, gut-crushed
about 6:00 o~e morning,
walkin
g.
His
eyes screwed
tightly shut, as if in self-absorbtion;
the tongue lolled out, the same~ his intestines.
That,
and his twisted grin
made him look like
some
old carving
of
Odin
,
god of magic
and the dead;
as
if the
cat had
bought
some bitter hidden wisdom with his pain,
that
roared and ~reamed
him
into
ecstasy.
Now, all that's left is a
greasy
rag upon the road,
a piece of hide, the fur fast coming off;
and the cat's runes (were there ever
any?)
are left
scratched into
the pavement
and carven in the winter sky.
Soon only a stain will mark the place.
by
Bill
Herron






•
•
■
■
•
•
:
•
■
■
•
They
Call Ee
A Jew
they call me a Jew
but I am Allmen
they call me a Jew
and they
took
me from
my home
my home
they took from me
my home
my mornings
full
of soft
linen
and featherbeds
breakfasts
of pungent cheese
and strong coffee
mornings
full
of sunlight painted patterns
playing tag
on the kitchen table
and warm wooden smells
my home
with
happy talk
and soft wine
over a fulloffamilylove supper
and my dark-eyed
<a.ughter
laughing at me
a dribble of
bouillon
escaping down her baby chin
my
home
my wife
my
friends
in front of the fire
in song and in prayer
animated
by good feelings and firelight
my home
they
took from me
my wife
my
daughter
my humanity
and
they jammed
me
in a cattle car
cold
and hungry
with a hundred more










my beloved and my baby
were plucked from me
as if I, a thief
was
caught stealing them
will my aching eyes
see them alive?
will they, livin
g
,
look back at me?
or
will
they, naked, die
an insects death
asphyxiated
as their soft fingers
leave desperate impressions
in a c
o
ncr
e
te ceilin
g
?
they call me a Jew
but
I am Allmen
and we
ride
in a railroad car
full
of flesh and foul odor
in
the darkness we stand
because
we
can't stand
the 311e 11 if we
si.
t
and sitting takes space
and there is no space
four days
this
way
hun
g
er gnaws our ribs
cold gnaws the rest
from
train to truck
a
herd, a flock
former members of mankind
transformed
transported to whe
·
re
Arbeit Macht Frei
for all
.fa
j th fu
l
bea
~:;t
:
; o
f burden
th
e
y c
a
ll m
e a Je
w
but I am Allmen
and our bare arms are branded
like
the beasts
we
have become
no lo
ng
er do I lay on linen
with
fluffy featherbeds
and a warm and loving woman
56
I
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•
I







•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
I sleep in spaces
too
s
m
al
l
to sleep
on
hard
so
hard hardwood
and
guard
my skinny
blanket
from the night
its
loss brings lashes
from
a
N
azi
whip
its loss lets cold
insidious
cold
nocturnal
predator
silently consume
the scrawny sleeping self
my bedmate is male
er.i
a
ciated
like myself
emaciated
they call me
a Jew
but I am Allmen
unwilling, unwanted
mornin
g
crawls
through windows
hi
g
h and small
and its wearisome light
makes the stench of the
night
visible
I
awake and
wonder
whose
body I
slept in
I
and my fellows
are
skeletons
with skin
skin stretched so
thin
each bone
we own
is showing
no
more
the fragrance of
wine
instead
the stink of
human waste
no
more
warm wooden smells
but
the
acrid odor of
burning
bodies
no
more
friendly faces
reflecting happiness
only
hundreds
of
hollow eyes
whose
owners
'
only
wonder
is
who
burns tomorrow
57





















where are you
my
wife
with your soft voice?
God is mute
where are you my daughter
with
your innocent eyes?
mankind
is
bl
i
nd
or can it
be
that they see
and pay no heed
because they call me a Jew?
but
I
am
Allmen
I
no longer count time
time no
longer
counts
wh
at
counts
is
my cru
st
of bread
and my warrnwater pseudosoup
which
I
quickly
c
o
nsume
so
they
are not stolen
and when my stomach has stopped
hollering its hunger at me
my
swollen
feet shout their
mise
ry
instead
just
before
I
am forced
to
walk
on them
I
walk
to
work
which makes
m~
free
I
feed the furnace
w
ith
the bodies
of
my brothers
and stare into their lifeless
eyes
no
more vacant than my own
you
see
I
stopped
counting the days
wh
en the
days
stopped co
untin
g
the
day
that
d
a
y
again
when
a
p
ai
r
of
still
open, still innocent
dark
eyes
passed through
my hands on their
way
to the
the day Allmen
burned
with
my baby
daughter
they call me a Jew
but I am
Allmen
53
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
•
fire
~
~
~
~
~






'
:
•
•
'
•
'
,
I
















FROM
THE EDITOR
1981.~.the year we started up the
M
osaic again.
The number
and quality
of the contributions
we
got shows that the arts are
alive and
well
here at Marist
-
at
least
in the area of word-
smithing.
(Visually, the response was kind of disappointing this
year -
but
that'll
change.)
To me, the response is a good sign;
it means
that as much as Marist's students
want
to get ahead pro-
fessionally and economically. they still want to live deeply and
richly
on an emotional
level.
What
we
did he~e was to collect a
sampling of some of the best work
we
rece
i
ved.
Without sounding lik
e
an academy award winner, I would like
to
thank
a few of the people who were instrumental in putting
this
magazine in your hands.
First, Kevin D., my partner,
who
I
hope (and
expect) will learn from my mistakes.
With him in charge,
next year's magazine will no doubt make th
i
s one
look
sick.
Dr.
Milton Teichman did a fine job organizin
g
, encouraging, prodding
us along;
and he collected a good deal o
f
mater
i
al from his
writing
workshop courses.
Pat Cr
e
egan, the club president, was
great in helping with selection and in arranging the printing.
Also, thanks to Joy Kudla, and to Lori Dyer and Dianne,
who
did
the
typing (w
i
thout them we might have been able to get this
issue out sometime in
F
ebruary
19
82
).
·
A
very
special thanks to all you contributors, especially
those whose work
doesn't appear in this issue because of space or
other
considerations; please don't stop trying.
Finally, thanks
to you,
the reader,
without
whom this
would
be a pretty useless
enterprise.
1
Pass the jug.
Bill Herron






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