Marist Literary Arts Society
Presents
I










The Wedding
I love you more than ever
More than time and more than love
I
love you
more than money
And more than the stars above.
Love
you
more than madness
More than
waves
upon the
sea
Love you more than
life
itself
You mean
that
much to me.
Ever since you walked right
in
The circle
1
s been complete
I
1
ve said good bye to haunted rooms
And faces in the street
To the
courtyard of
the jester
Which is hidden from the sun
I love you more than ever
And I haven
1
t yet begun
You breathed on me and made
my life
A richer one to live
When I was deep in poverty
You taught me how to give
Dried the tears up from my dreams
And pulled me from the hole
Quenched my thirst and satisfied
The
burning
in my soul
You turn the tide on me each day
And
tea
ch
my eyes to see
Just bein' next to you
Is a natural thing for me
And I could never let you go
No matter what goes on
Cause I love you more
than
ever
Now
that the past is gone.
R.Z.









ONE
LESS
by M.
c.
Francisco
The man
pulled his
car
into the parking
lot of the
Fairway
Motor Inn and parked
in
one
of
the numerous empty spaces.
The
night's rain had been reduced to a soft drizzle that added an
ominous feeling of terror to the air.
But the man wasn't interested in terror.
He was interested
in only one thing.
With soft gliding steps, he walked the
short
distance to the office and rang for the manager.
seconds
later
a
short, dark-haired man appeared and moved to the counter.
"Can I help you, gramps?" the manager asked with
indifference.
"I would like a room for the night,'' replied the man in a
quiet voice.
He didn't like the man's tone of voice but knew he
would get nowhere by making a big deal about it.
The details were quickly taken care of and the man signed
the book as Thomas Goldie.
It wasn't his real name, but it was
the one that appeared on his Indiana driver's license and the
alias would do for now.
Goldie took his
key,
grabbed his bags
from his car, and entered room 7.
Goldie locked and bolted the door and closed the drapes to
the small window.
He carefully set his bags on the spare double
bed and then laid down on the other one.
·
His old bones groaned with relief when he laid down and he
closed his eyes.
The man was 72 and showed every one
of
his
years in his well-worn face and white hair.
His thin bony frame
was no longer tall and commanding, but he could still handle his
job.
He could do it better than anyone and they feared him for
it. The fear never really mattered, for not one
of
his quarry
knew his face.
He smiled at that thought as he drifted off to
sleep.
The man called Goldie dozed for an hour and then took a cool
shower, after which he prepared his equipment.
He wore his dark
gray slacks, black turtleneck, gray trenchcoat, and black fedora,
which were his usual working clothes.
At his belt he tied a
bottle of Jack Daniels with its clear contents.
The opening was
corked
and sealed with wax so his quarry wouldn't smell the
liquid.
The inside pocket of his trenchcoat carried a folding tree
saw and a wooden stake.
His briefcase contained six spare wooden
stakes, an assortment of plastic garbage and a pair of latex
gloves.
A crucifix hung around his neck.
After another
quick
look, he threw the folder that detailed his quarry
into
the
briefcase and headed out the door.
It was a short 10 minute ride to the bar downtown.
The bar
was
named Charlie's after its proprietor and was filled with all
sorts of refuse from around town.
The time was 11:30 as the man
called
Goldie sat at a table in a corner some distance from
the









ba
r
.
Cha
rlie, an
o
be
s
e m
a
n wi
t
h d
ark
gl
asses a
n
d
a
blac
k
bea
r
d
tha
t
sho
wed
s
ome g
r
ay,
s
t
o
od b
e
hind
th
e b
ar
j
o
k
i
ng w
ith his
f
rien
d
s
.
G
o
ldie
o
rdered a d
o
ub
l
e b
o
urb
o
n w
h
i
c
h he
sip
pe
d
occas
i
o
n
a
lly
as
h
e sc
a
nn
e
d
the
c
r
o
wd
,
l
oo
k
i
ng f
o
r t
rou
bl
e
.
His quarry arrived precisely at 12:00.
H
e
swaggered
in
t
o
the ba
r
with
a
n ar
ro
gant l
oo
k
on
hi
s
fa
ce a
nd
a
def
iant s
n
e
e
r.
Every
o
n
e i
n
t
he b
a
r st
o
pped
an
d l
ook
ed at
t
h
e ne
wc
om
e
r
.
The
ne
w
c
omer appe
a
red to b
e
ab
ou
t
3
0
an
d was a
s
th
i
n as
Go
ld
ie.
H
is
h
a
ir w
as
br
o
wn a
n
d clos
e
-
cropped, his eye
s
were dark
an
d
st
rang
e
ly
vaca
nt.
The new
c
omer was greeted with
c
heer
s
and
o
ffers
o
f
dri
nk
s.
A man at the bar even vacated his stool so th
a
t the new
co
m
e
r
co
uld have a prime place to sit. The newcomer smiled and
tal
ke
d
a
n
d
j
o
k
e
d with his s
u
dden acquaintances.
H
_
e held th
e
m all
enthralled.
G
o
ldie t
o
ok in the whole scene impa
s
sively and
o
rde
r
e
d
another double bourbon.
The newcomer, wh
os
e name was Edd
i
e
,
locked eyes with him for a second and Goldie gave hi
s
be
st
"just
another drunk
"
look.
Eddie whispered something to Ch
ar
li
e a
nd
t
he bartender shrugged a resp
o
nse.
Eddie seemed sat
is
fie
d
and
co
ntinued with his carousing.
This cont
i
nued for another hour and a half with Goldie
ordering more bourb
o
n and seeming to get more drunk
.
In reali
t
y
,
the bourbon did not have any affect on him at all
.
One of the
few tricks he had learned in his 72 years.
Then, a little after
1
:
30, a man rose, bid his farewells and staggered out of the bar
.
Eddie did the same after a few minutes.
Goldie waited a few
minutes and then gathered his hat and briefcase from the table
and followed his quarry.
G
o
ldie staggered into the alley that Eddie and the other m
an
h
a
d gone down, continuing his drunk act.
He found what h
e
expected halfway down the dar
k
alley
.
Eddie was bent over the
other man's limp body, with his face buried in the drunk's face
.
"Hey, there," he yelled with a slur, "whattaya doin' to that
p
o
or man?"
At this Eddie's head jerked back and he turned to
face the intruder.
Eddie dr
o
pped the limp body and smiled
.
Fangs gliste
n
ed
when he did so
.
"Corne here, old man," he said in a high-pitched
voice.
His eyes were burning red and filled with excitement.
The man called Goldie straightened a
n
d became rigid
.
He
s
tepped forward obediently
.
"I shall feast on your b
l
o
o
d,
o
ld
man," Eddie cackled, near frenzy.
The beast ordered his se
c
ond
victim of the night to kneel and bare his neck
.
Goldie c
o
mplied
with a dazed look in hi
s
eyes
.
The beast lunged f
o
rward
,
the thought of more blood the only
one in his mind.
Eddie screamed in pain as the bottle of J
a
ck
Daniels shattered on his left temple.
Holy water splashed across
his fa
c
e and immediately started to burn the skin.
The beast
clawed at his face in an effort to scrape the holy water off but
o
nly succeeded in burning his hands
.
Goldie didn't waste time after hitting hi
s
quarry with the
holy water.
Quickly, he removed the stake fr
o
m its place
a
nd
rammed it home into the torso of the beast
.
His quarry fell to








the ground, a scream of agony still etched
on its
paralyzed fac
e
.
He knelt by the body and put
on the
latex
gloves.
The
small
folding saw cut through the beast's neck without
a
problem
and
Goldie placed it into a plastic bag along with the decapitated
head.
He
said
a small prayer and removed the wooden stake, whi
ch
also
went into the bag
.
As soon as the stake was removed, Eddie's body burst
into
flames and was soon reduced to ashes.
Goldie tied the bag's
opening
into a
knot
and his face showed no expression
as
he
walked back to his car.
Later, he would burn the head and the
stake and bury them in some deep woods somewhere.
For now, he
tossed the bag into the trunk after
wrapping
it in several more
bags to keep the stench down.
The
drive back to the motel was uneventful as the old man
named Goldie thought about his last kill.
That
was one
less
of
them, he thought.
on less to
worry
about.
For the first
time
that night, the man
who
called himself
Thomas
Goldie smiled
.









Witch
of
Pakistan
Veiled in
white
as custom forces,
she stokes the fire
out
her
door.
Of
the lives
of
us she alters
courses;
She is far from naive, far from pure.
A blackened hat adorns her head
(It
she
washes
twice per week)
Her mouth, though small, is fine; instead
Through her nostrils she can speak.
In the
lives
of others in our town
She measures far from dominant.
She blends right
in
with steady
·
frown,
Although
her nose
is
prominent.
Rest assured that
she is
thinking--
Daily
plot
consume
her week
-
-
Her
spe
l
ls
affect us, not her stinking
(The
food
she
drinks--it makes her
wreak).
But
be forewarned
--
do
not
approach her,
lest
she
hit you with her
spoon,
Into
the
cauldron
you will
tumble
{And
lunch is served at noon)
.
Kimberly Hackett
Sean McPharoah,
jr.
SLEEP IT AWAY
I want to go
back
to
sleep.
In
my
dream
my children are still
alive
.
In
my
dream
i
don't have to wake
in
a disillusioned
haze
and clutch
my
empty
womb
and
scream.
I want
to dream.




What??? . . . . Huh???
Hands of stone, face of paper
Heart of crimson, eyes of yellow
Tell me, I'll tell you
You, at one time, were the only one that mattered
Your angelic face permanently scarred into my weak mind
And your inquisitive tone is still ringing in my ears
Skin of leather, hair of grain
Fingers of experience, legs of endurance
Talk with me, I'll talk with you
You, the one who made me wrinkle my brow in wonder
Your more-than-relaxed attitude contradicted my ulcers
And the light of you possessed cleared all darkness
Nose of wood, cheeks of water
Mouth of knowing, tongue of telling
Touch me, I'll touch you
You taught me how to open my fist
Your smile upon contact left me with confidence to spare
And the time we never had was made up by the time we did
Look at me, I'll look at you
When I find you, I will find you, when I find you
I will find you, when I find you, I will find you
- scottwyman








Ruf
us
, B
l
uta. an
d
the R
o
ot G
a
the
r
i
na
sto
ry
once there lived a man named R
u
fu
s a
nd h
is
w
i
fe
Bluta
.
Th
e
y
lived in a country called Z
o
la
.
The man and his wif
e
ma
de
t
he
i
r
living by gathering, planting, and harvesting th
e
vari
o
u
s
h
erbs
a
n
~
vegetables that grew on the craggy hillock behin
d
their h
o
vel
.
I
t ,
a
s
a hard life, but a good one.
one morning, the man set out, as usua
l
, t
o
scout the nearby
shrubbery for new and unique tubers.
It was an unusual day, brigh
t
and crisp, with a unique glare that seemed to reflect the sunlight
back and forth between the sparse, puffy clouds
.
"What a be
a
utiful
day," thought the man, and he plunged a shove
l
into the dirt to t
e
st
the ground.
Much to his surprise, he discovered a fine root in the
dirt below a b
u
sh.
"Beho
l
d," said he, "What a marvelous root there
lies beneath this bush!
I shall pick it up and transfer it t
o
my
wife.
Perhaps she can prepare a fine jam or stew with it." And s
o
the man picked up the root and placed it in his valise.
Then he
resumed his digging.
That night the man and his w
i
fe feasted on the
fine roots that he had gathered in the day.
It so happened that the next day the man was required to
a
ttend
jury duty
.
Upon hearing this, his wife inq
u
ired as to th
e
location of
the roots so that she might go herself and reap enough of the tender
tubers to provide for dinner.
The man
e
xplained that to get to the
location, he was required to travel a moderately short but c
o
mplicated
tr
a
il beyond the briars on the great mound.
To be sure she would
reach the
l
ocation, he
l
eft her the directions on a piece of
parchment.
Shortly after breakfast, the man set out on foot for c
o
urt.
It
was an unusual day, dim and damp
,
with an unu
s
ual greyness that
somehow made the sky unusually gloomy.
It threatened to rain
.
"What
a lousy day," thought the wife.
"Why
should I trudge out on foot on
such a day when it threatens to rain, when I can much more easily
s
et
out in my husband
'
s car?" And so the woman took her husband's Honda
Civic and set out toward the briars on the great m
o
und
.
Unfortunately, the woman was not too familiar with a stick shift
,
and so on the long climb up to the top of the briar hillock she left
the car in high gear, which lugged the engine so severely that the car
began to overheat.
"Oh NO!" cried the woman, "I must get to the top
of the hill lest
I
be stranded here!
If I get to the top I can coast
down the other side." And so she forcefully applied the throttle.
Unfortunately, the woman had somehow f
o
rgotten that automobiles
are generally not used in the woods and shrubbery to climb rocky
hillocks, so the bump-induced vibration caused the throttle to jam,
causing the woman to wrap
.
the front end of the vehicle around a
sedentary birch tree.
"Damn," said the woman, and she got out
o
f t
h
e
car to assess the damage.
"Hark!" she said,
"
See how the briars have
marred the paint of the car!" Then, after a few seconds, she said
"Behold, the buckling dent seems to have spoiled the frontage!
were
my
·
husband to see it, he might become angry.
I will leave the car
here while I think of an excuse to tell him."
And so the woman took
her shovel and other equipment and proceeded to the place where the
roots were to be found.
It so happened that her husband was dyslexic and the









di
r
ect
i
ons on t
he w
o
m
an
'
s
p
archm
en
t c
a
me
t
o
be
somewhat
reve
r
sed
.
An
ho~r late
r
, she fou~d hersel~
to be relatively
los
t.
My
h
u
sba
n
d'
s di
re
c
t
io
ns do n
ot
ta
k
e me t
o
~
he
<i
e
sti
n
a
t:
io
P-.
H
e
Il'.Us
"t:
b
e
dysl
e
xic
.
11
The
w
om
a
n
d
ecided
tc
b
a
ck
tra
c
k an
d
c
on
tinu
e
o
n
ward.
A
s
ho
rt
t
i
m
e
l
a
ter
sh
e
c
a
me ac
r
os
s
a
la
r
ge situated
roc
k.
N
o
w bey
on
d the windward side
o
f tha
t
st
o
ne
l
i
v
e
d a
r
at~er c
oloss
a
l
el
f
by th
e
name
o
f C
ho
l
l
-
C
h
oll
.
Choll
-
Choll
wa
s
a tru
l
y wic
k
ed creat
u
re who delighted
i
n the
looti
n
g
of
p
as
s
ers
-
by
.
He was empl
o
yed by an ogre who lived far
the
r
1
n
t
o t
he woods, and his j
o
b was t
o
keep pas
s
ers
-
by f
r
om
di
s
turbing t
h
e
o
gre in his incessantly "tempora:-y
"
rest.
As
t
he woman approached th
e
r
o
ck, Choll
-
C
h
ol
l
leap
e
d
out of
t
he shadows.
He roared, "Give me your bel
o
ng
i
ng
s
!
"
Upon vi
e
wing this strange creatur
e
flailing his three a
r
ms
about h
i
m
s
elf, the woman fe
l
t inc
l
ined to shout f
o
r fear.
Instead, she chose t
o
give Choll
-
Choll exa
c
tly what
he
wanted.
Sin
c
e she carried
o
nly gardening tools,
s
he gav
e
him the shovel
-
-
literally.
Tw
o
swings were su
f
fi
c
ient
to
se
n
d Cho
l
l
-
C
holl charg
i
ng away into the northern bogs
wailing loudly for his maternal figure
.
Then t
h
e wo
m
an
con
tinued onward
.
A s
hort time later, she approached a slig
h
tly filled
h
ollow.
Unknown t
o
the woma
n
was that near this hollow
l
i
ved a relati
v
ely squat giant n
a
med Baxter, who preferred
to be
k
n
o
wn as Tr
o
ll.
once sh
u
nned by the other giants
b
e
cause of his short s
ta
ture, Troll came to live in this
area w
h
en he resp
o
nded t
o
the "Help wanted" ad of an ogre
.
(
This ogre, the same one
w
ho had employed Choll
-
Choll, had
been l
oo
k
i
ng f
o
r g
u
a!"ds to keep trespassers to an ab
s
ol
u
te
m
i
n
i
mum
.
)
W
hen Troll h
e
ar
d
the s
n
apping of t
w
igs (the
sound
s
cr
e
at
e
d by t
h
e w
om
an's approac
h)
, he vau
l
ted
o
ut of
the hollow to stand in
f
ront of her
.
Upon seeing this
strange creature bla~kly staring at her, the w
o
man felt
inclined to yell in fright.
I
nstead, she chose to converse
wit
h
him.
"Hello, wh
o
are y
o
u?
"
she asked.
Tr
o
ll
responded
,
"
I am Troll
.
You may not pass."
The woman,
qui
c
kly adapting t
o
the s
i
tuati
o
n
,
decided
t
o
u
se flirt
at
i
on
t
o ac
h
ieve her goals.
She exclaimed, "My, my.
How could
such a fine gentleman be so rude
to
a wo
m
an like
m
e?
A
nd
for shame
--
you are much taller than my husband.
"
(In
actuality
,
he
r
husband 6'3", Troll 6'2"
.
)
"I can not let
y
o
u pass!
"
Tr
o
l l repea
t
ed, this time becoming violent.
By
now the w
o
man, growing impatient, simpl
y
decided to prove
h
er prowess at the ancient art
o
f Tae Kw
o
n Do.
A few
m
in
ut
e
s
later, Troll lay battered i
n
a ditch in a state of
mortification at having been defeated by a woma
n o
f 5'2"
s
tature.
The w
o
man once again cont
i
nued on
w
ard;
A
short tim
e
later, t
h
e
w
oman approached a relative
l
y
u
nclosed fissure in the
o
pen forest.
Now in this fiss
u
re
lived a great ugly o
g
re named Pox
-
Pox.
Pox
-
Pox was a tr
ul
y
evil creature wh
o
delighted in the various flavors of
passers
-
by (
w
hen he wasn't resting)
.
As the woman
approached, the sound of her walking through the leaves

















awote Pox
-
Pox
in
hi
s
den
, w
her
e
he
had ~allen in
to
a dee
p
slumbe~ while
wa
tch
:
ng
-
taped
re
-r
uns
o
f Saturday
N1oht Ll
V
D
.
P
ox
-
Pox bour
.ded
out
of
t
h
e
fissure
and
roared,
11
w:1y
ha
ve
yo'-.1
disturbed
me?"
Then
he reassessed
the
s
i
-:u
ation and
i:2
q
uired
,
"What have y
o;
_i
d
o
!!e
with
Choll
-
Ch
o
l l and
Troll
/"
Upon seeing
th
is
huge monster
vio
l
ently shaking
his
three
heads,
t
he w
om
an
felt
inclined
to screarn
--
so she d
id
.
But
then
she rea
s
sessed the
situation.
Herself gr
owing tired
of
the inc
reasing
monotony of
the
day, the
woman
simply
said,
"Away ye foul beast, I must pass on!
I possess
a blac
k
belt
in
Tae Kwon
Do, so
do
not
stand in my
way
.
"
Unf
ortunately,
the
woman's haughty
self
-
confidence clouded her
judg
ement.
Con
sider
ing P
o
x
-
Pox
'
s
8'7"
height,
three torso
s,
and
1486
pound
weight, the woman was hardly in a pos
i
tion to t
hre
aten
him.
As a
result,
h
e proceeded to eat her
.
Upon
arriving home that
night
to find
h
is wife
and car
m
issing, the
husband
descended
to
a state
of
gre
at
mental
a
ngu
is
h.
"Oh
my,"
he
said, "My
wife and
car
are
missing.
My
wife
m
ust have
left me."
Then i t occurred to h
i
m that he
alone
would not
have enough time
to gather and
prepare
himself enough food
to
survive
in
the
future
.
He said, "I
can
not continue to I've as I do
alone,
lest
I
starve."
A
change of
profession was i
n
order.
After a brief
,
unsuccessful attempt at commercial
advertising, the
man eventually found himself
condemned to
the selling
of middle-aged cats to eccentric
old
women.
It
was a boring life, but a pr
ofi
table enough
one
.
A
n
d
so the
man
lived on in mediocrity.
Mo
r
a l
o
f
t h e S t o
r
y :
On
e
s h o u
l
d
n
o t u s e a
H
o n d a C
i v
i c
i n
t
h
e
~
o o d s a
n
d
s
h
r
u
b
b
e r y
t
o
c l
i m
b
r o c k y
h i l l
o c k s
~ h
e
n
r e
l
a
t i
v e
l
y
u n f
a
m
i
l
i a
r
w i t
h
a
s t
i
c k s
l
- i . i f
t .





Little soul, Lost
She was not big, she was not small, she was not ugly,
but she wasn't pretty.
She wasn't utterly wretched; she was not
too special either
.
She wasn't smart or stupid.
She claimed
neither impudence nor sweetness.
She was just there, a
nondescript young woman.
And yet, she wasn't really a woman,
either.
If anyone had e
v
er been interested enough in her
description, he'd have had a hard time getting it out of anybody
At night, sometimes, she took comfort from the moon.
The moon was a little like she was--there, and taken for granted.
Yet, even the moon was more important.
People studied the moon,
proclaimed it beautiful. Astronauts walked on it. No one had
ever confessed any great beauty in her.
She tried hard to be happy
.
She tried to laugh at
everything.
She tried very hard never to cry.
But sometimes the
tears slipped out, and then she was ashamed.
When she started to
feel sad, she'd pull on the one memory of someone who'd made her
feel special, if only for one day.
All she had to do was pull
out a book whose inside cover was adorned with a little drawing,
the picture of a thousand words.
She'd read the words silently
to herself, laughing, smiling
,
sometimes flushing a little. It
always cheered her, till she got to the end, for the end was
meaningless now.
The feeling had gone
.
The little pain she
almost never felt would sting her heart for a second, and her
little lost soul would cry for the sweet intoxication of
happiness.
·
Then she would sit up, pull a brush through her hair,
and laugh sardonically, always worrying that she might feel a
pang of sentiment, a pull of longing.
Up then she would fly to
busy herself, so she could not think of any such nonsense again.
Cylinda Rickert








Blue-Green Love
by
Ellen Kalaus
It
was a
hot
spring
day
.
The smell
of
melting
crayons
clung to the humid air.
We were working on
an original
art project, trees standing in a meadow.
This unique scene, two
green trees standing on two green mountains with
four
pink
flowers
circled
by a halo of one yellow circle that was
supposed
to
resemble the
blazing sun, was duplicated
by
Picasso-like first
graders on thirty white sheets of paper
.
Then i t happened.
our
eyes met.
I noticed
him,
and
I think he
noticed
my intent stare,
though
I'm not sure because
the gleaming sun struck the glass of his glasses.
. . . . . those wonderful
handsome
glasses
pushed up by those powerful pudgy
fingers .... those
fingers
holding
·
his
crayons
with
such
force . . . .
.
clutching his
Batman bookbag with
an
fierceness ....
.
that were
ten gripping
tyrannical
incredible
He, Harvey Bellwall, was walking toward me
.
pigtails
chin
.
...
... . .
oh my gosh are my knee socks straight
....
are
my
even .... is there some peanut butter and
jelly on my
Harvey was about to say something to me .
.
.
.. what
am I
going to do .... he is definitely too
good
to be true
...
.
he has
i t
all ..
.
.
the looks, the charm
....
the
fact that he is always the last one to remain in the dodge-ball
games
..
..
I love him for his rebellious side too ..
.
. he is the only
boy who
has enough courage to clap the erasers against the back
wall, even though
·
Sister Bernard warned us
·
not to
....
"Sarah, are you finished with the blue-green crayon?
If not, I ' l l use the green-blue one."
Those words will
live in my
mind forever,
'blue-
green, green-blue.'
Like the blue and green of the crayon, our
love would surely interlock for all time.
our
love affair flourished for weeks.
Harvey and r
shared our lunches and sat next to each other during story time.
summer was approaching.
we
talked of romantic nights when we













w
o
u
l
d trap
f
i
refli
es and pl
a
y
d
o
dge
-
b
all ~
~
ci
l
t
h
e
s
~~
cam
e
~p.
T
h
e
~
t
h
at evil day c
a
me, t
h
e day wh
e
n H
a
r
vey
learn
e
d the
r
e w
e
r
e o
t
h
er w
o
me
n
O
Ll
t
there, w
o
men m
o
re
s
op
h
isticated than I, one in particular, a t
hir
d grader.
She,
J
essica, w
o
re
h
er hair in one pigtai
l
.
She
had p
i
erced ear
s
.
She could even cross the street by
herself.
Je
s
sica's trademark color
o
f green
-
blue was
smeared a
ll
over her artwork that hung proudly
i
n the hal
l
.
Her renowned repu
t
ation for having los
t
all of her b
a
by
~eeth had gained her a place of respect among
a
ll
h
er
classm
a
tes
.
Not only did Jessica have the respect of her
peers, but she was worshipped by the younger students for
her f
a
nta
s
tic ab
i
lity in hopscotch .
.
Harvey left me
i
n his blue
-
green past f
o
r t
h
is
third
-
grade bea
u
ty m
a
sked by a green
-
blue fac
a
de.
I learned to love again, but t
o
this day, I
s
t
i
l l
can't use a bl
u
e
-
green crayon without having my vis
i
on
blurred by a tear.
THE END





















Christop
h
er
J.
La
l
ine
Tte
wo
m
a
n
She
is
always standing
the~e in the
c
crn
er
of
my
mind.
Always
th.et
slend
e
r
b
o
dy
dr
a
p
e
d in
a
d
a
rk
s
h
a
d
o
w
,
n
e
v
e
r r
e
a
l
ly
J;.110
w
i n g
if
she
was
out there.
Could
I ever
attain
suc
h
beauty
in
one woman
.
Walking lonely through deserted streets in
the
ear
l
y morning
hours
I would look for her.
Thro
u
gh empty store windows, in the occasi
on
al
passing of
a
car
and e
v
en in
the
quick look over
my shoulder
I would
look
for
her
.
I feel
I
am destined
to
wander through
the
s
tre
ets
o
f
life alone,
always
looking and searching my soul for
the
w
oman
.
If she d
o
es exist deep dow
n
I
know
she will
never
be
mine.
It wi
l
l be my shyness and
timidness
that wil
l
always keep
her
at
a
distance
.
The
words
may never be spoken between us but
my
eyes in t
ha
t
s
ta
re
will
be all
that
I would have
to say.
S
h
e
~il
l never know that
i t
was ultimately
I
who
held the key
to
her
hea
rt.
~
It was
ultimately
I
who
was that missing
piece
to her
puzz
le.
Romance will never find
me.
I
will only be
found
walking the
dark streets
of
morning, wandering
aimlessly looking
for the
woman.
A
night at West Cape
We lie here in each other's arms,
covered
in the sweet sweat
of our
labors.
You rest your head on
my
chest, and
I
smell
your
hair.
I
rub your
shoulder
and feel you smile against me.
we
talk of
nothing, enjoying each other.
I run my hand
through
your
midnight hair
.
Your green eyes shine
mischievously
as you smile
and rub your
leg
up against mine intent
l
y.
I
laugh and
pull
you
tightly against
me,
wanting to hold you forever.
We kiss and i t
is
intoxicating.
we roll around
and laugh.
I
tell you that
I
love
you and you say that you already know.
You are all that
I
want, all that
I
need.
I
wish this night will never end.
But
i t
doesn't.
-
bje








A SUPER HERO'S
REALIZATION
by Tom Becker
As I reflect on my past week, I can't
help
but think
it
was all my fault
.
Yet there is a part of me that knows the
truth, knowing that I had nothing to do with it. But
that
part won't speak.
·Guilt
is in command as usual, and why should
I
choose
to
fight
it
now?
HAH?
My brain racked for answers to
my
question but withdrew any answers.
I would
just
have to
feel it and perhaps deal with
it.
My life's
become
a
struggle betwee~ guilt and logic.
It wasn't my
fault.
But
those
eyes, those goddamned eyes, crying out for help,
accusing as I stood by.
That's exactly what they did.
They
accused.
Maybe they were right.
o
screw it!
Get on with your life, man.
It's over.
Everyone
has
their problems, but that doesn't stop them from living.
Right?
What was it that Donna used to say?
"Don't worry,
be
happy",?
A saying from a popular
song
by some black guy.
Bob Marley was it? Whatever
.
Diana, only a couple of weeks
ago, meant so much to me.
I r€member how I loved her.
She
was the only one I ever loved.
God, we had some great times
together
.
We had big
.
plans.
Yup, she was my first and
last, I suppose.
She's gone now.
I could no longer love
her
like
she needed
.
Don't worry, be
happy.
You
only live
once, right?
That's a question to be dealt with.
I mean,
can I still consider
myself living?
A living person's
supposed to be able to feel many different things, positive
and
negative
.
For me there's only the negative: pain and guilt.
It's
not so much the pain
as it is
·
the guilt.
Oh man, I'm back
to square one.
Maybe i t wouldn't be so hard for me
if
he
didn't expect so much from me.
But as so many kid brothers
do, he idolized me.
I hate him for it. Those eyes, how I
hate
those eyes.
But I did love him.
I guess that's
part
of the problem.
I remember what I now look on as probably
the last happy day of my life.
I had spent it with him.
we
had gone skiing together.
God, it was only ten days ago.
I
remember how excited he was.
He got up at 6 a
.
m. and was
ready to split by 6:30.
"C'mon John," he said, "let's go.
I can't wait.
You
think there'll be a
lot
of snow? I hope so
.
I heard the
mountains were supposed to get six
.
inches last night.
Anyway, we could always pick up snow bunnies, right?"









His
little
face was all
brig
h
t
with
ex
c
itemeGt and
so
was mine.
I guess he
rubbed
off on me.
He
could d
o
that
to
people;
get them
to share
his
feelings.
He was
a
great
kid.
Kid!
He was
only ten years old!
Don't worry, be happy.
We
had
a great
day
at the slopes
.
That day I felt closer
to
him than
ever before.
I really, truly loved him.
It was
more than just the
usual
brother to brother love.
I
would've loved
him
even if he wasn
'
t my brother.
But why
did he have to
love
me so much?
Why?
The ironic
t
hing
is that I used to love the fact
that
he
idolized
me.
Wouldn•~ anyone?
.
I remember
how
my mother
used to warn me to be careful of what I said or did around
him, because he'd do it too.
I remember one time I was in
my room listening to my stereo.
I had my CD's laid out on
the floor.
I
was trying to organize them.
I remember he
came in my room and came running towards me, stepping on two
of my CD's.
I screamed at him and told him to get the hell
out.
His face changed
fr
om
his patented smile to one of
being shocked.
He began to cry.
I was being stupid that
day and i t wasn't his fault.
I
knew that, yet I made him
cry.
sometimes he
was
a burden.
No, scratch that.
If
anything, he was
a
welcomed burden.
I wonde
r
how he envisioned me
.
Whenever
I try to
picture it,
I
see myself in mylons, standing on the highest
point of a mountain.
A
red
cape
I'm
wearing blows in the
wind.
Superbro!
stupid, isn't it? But to him I guess I
was sort
of
like a superhero.
Hell,
it must have seemed
to
him like I could do anything.
Yup, don't worry,
John
is
here.
He'll
take care of
it.
But john didn't take care of it.
He, ME.
I couldn't.
I had no chance.
I didn't know he'd gone out.
Why
didn't
he tell me?
He told me everything else.
Why didn't he tell
me THIS
TIME?
Worse yet, maybe he did tell me
.
Maybe I
wasn't listening.
I wonder
if
he ever did that to me.
How many times did
I tell
him to be careful?
This
time he'd done something so dumb!
We'd
had nothing but warm
weather all week and yet
he
thought the pond was
frozen
.
..
skate frozen that is.
C'mon
kid, are you an idiot?
Why'd
you do it, bro?
It doesn't matter.
I still should've
been there to do something.
Yes, here comes the old guilt
trip again and this time I'm
welcoming
it.
That day I had been at Diana's.
we were
working
on our
term papers.
Ironically,
I was doing mine
on
Shakespearean
tragedies.
I should have left at four, when
I
was supposed
to, rather than four fifteen.
Of course I missed very
friggin' light on the way home.
You
see, the bond was a
block away from my house and I would pass it during my drive
to and from Diana's house.
I
was
stopped at the light on
th
e
corner of Penn and James' streets.
Penn ran parallel to
the
pond.
That's when I saw a couple of kids by the ice.
I
remember thinking, "How stupid could those kids be?"
I pulled over and got out of my car to go shout a
warning at the
doofs.
That's when I saw Andy ON THE ICE!
He was hitting a puck around
while
one of his friends
was










~acing up
on
the
s
hore
.
I called 0ut
to hira acd that's w~e~
it
ha
ppenee.
The
ice b
r
oke
fr
o~
under
him j
us~
as ~e turned
towards
me
.
He
fell into
t
h
e
dark pond
water.
Ira~.
·
r
w
o
uld've
had
a
shot at
be
a
t
ing
Carl
Le
w
is
,
:
was
=unning
s
o
fast.
But
n
ot
f
ast
enough.
I
got
out
o~
t
o
the
ice and
kep
t
slip
pi
ng
.
It
was
like one of
t
ho
se freaky
dre
a
ms where you're try
in
g to run but you
r
n
ot
g
oing
a
nywhere
.
I
saw
Andy moving
stead
i
ly
un
der the
ice
.
The
c
u
rrent had caught him.
He was beating
the
ice with his
f
i
sts
and he
loo
k
ed
terrified.
I
placed myself directly
on
top of
where
he
was
and
tried beating on
the
ice too.
He
looked at
me,
th
o
se
green eyes had filled up with
hope.
I
even think he smiled a little.
I'm not sure b
u
t I
think he
did.
B
ut
I was
crying
because I wasn't a superhero, I
couldn't save him and he didn't know that.
His
body continued
to
float and I
saw
him give
me
one
last look.
I now realize his eyes weren't
accusing
me
of
anything.
They were saying goodbye, maybe
even
t
h
anks for
trying.
One thing I
know
they were saying was -
I love you.
I
'm
sure
of
it.
His body disappeared from sight.
I fell down right
there and kept
on
crying.
I cried for what seemed
like
an
eternity, all the while hoping the ice would collapse from
under
me.
But i t didn't
.
I guess that's good.
I know i t
is.
Andy wouldn't want his super hero to die
.
I know that
too.
I'm still depressed and the pain of his death remains.
But I think the gu
i
l t has gone.
I know now that I
tried
and
that's all Andy wanted.
I think he didn't see me as a super
hero
who fought off evil, but instead just someone to look
up to.
I
was his big brother.
To him, that made me a super
hero.
THE END









Ii
l t
:
m
ir::.ati
o
n
Az
u
re ski~s with lavender
borders
S
pliced wit
h
yellow
-
g
ol
den
rays
of
Light breaking
through
the
clouds
of
my
sou
l,
Awakening my sp
iri
t, causing
i t to
swell and bloom with dewy vibrance,
Outshining my silt, which soon is sent
To endless sleep below the earth.
My reach for Perfect Love
Is now within my g~asp and seems
More real to me
than
dreams ever were.
My Creator speaks and I
no
_
longer
Strain to hear
his
soaring Call
SeP.t to me on
Wide
-
stretched wings that glimmer of gold.
For all one needs to know
Of the Great creator is reflected
In the brilliant skies, where
Fire dances on ice, scattering sunbeams
To the embers of my heart,
Rekindling my spirit with
The Love from which I came.
Erika Leone
Jack in the Box
by Jeanine Bertone
I'm over here
watching you
anxious
fearful
paralyzed
I'm over here
feeling for you
heartache
pain
grief
I'm over here
reaching out to you
withdrawal
denial
refusal
I'm over here
why don't you come out and play?








T
he
:.,
w
alk
A l
in
e
o
f t
a
t t
er
e
d b
e~
ngs
torn, sh
red
s of humani
t
y ad
r
ift
.
g
iant greyn
es
s
e
xi
ts
.
b
r
e
athed in an
d o
ut
i
n
and
o
ut.
The
stones
and dust
paint the
o
nly emotion
They
w
alk
Sp
u
rred on by a dream
daisies to
eat,
tulips
for th
i
rst.
pieces fall,
pe
o
ple
fall.
i
s love
worth
it
all?
Arm
o
r sagging
truth to the
blind.
They
walk
-
Tom
Becker
Tomorrow's Lullaby
I
believe
in
lullaby's
I
believe
in
things
that
fly
I
believe
in
rainbows high
To explain
i t
all
would just not be
good
Don't
leave me
here
Calm my
fears
You play with
my
world
Then
you
set
fire
to my
soul
You know my life inside out
Untold
stories that
should never
get out
I don
'
t know
why I
opened my mouth
But I did and n
o
w
I'm
lost
within
You read me inside
out
I
don't
know
how
Like an open book
You
know
what
other's don
'
t
And
if you
believe
in lullaby's
And if yo
u
believe in things that
fly
And if you
believe i
n
rainbows high
Then tomorrow
will not be lost
-
Kevin O'Neill










CHRONICLES OF SATILE: PART
I
It was
then
that she appeared.
In her
magnificently
embroidered
gown,
Vena, goddess
of
all
she surveyed
,
glided
down to the
great plateau at which
she
was to meet her
nemesis.
Thorn,
lord of demons
and god of evil, who
had
gotten there only moments
before, watched
as she
£littered
down before him.
'How easy i t would be
to
destroy
her'
he
thought.
With the
orb
of
darkness
and
the
power he
had
stolen
from
his brothers she would be like a leaf in the
wind
compared
to
him.
Finally Vena reached the plateau
and
spoke.
"Dost thou wish to stop thy killings
of
my people
or
would thou rather face me?"
At
this Thorn laughed,
"Art thou threatening me?"
he
asked with an evil grin.
·
"I
will not let thy slaughter continue.
Face me or be
banished forever!" Vena's voice seemed to echo into the
distance.
Thorn was not impressed, "I will face thee, but only to
show that thy
power
is
obsolete
to my own!" and with that
Thorn
took up
the
orb of darkness and created a giant bolt
of
black energy that struck at Vena.
Vena
recuperated
immediately.
She
then
swung her arms around herself and
weaved a
spherical shield
that emanated a blue radiance
.
Thorn concentrated on
the
shield and suddenly
i t
burst into
flame.
Thorn let out a
hideous
cackle as Vena, blackened
and
scarred,
flew out of the inferno and looked
to
the sky
as if waiting for something
.
Without wasting any time,
Thorn held the
orb
high and summoned a swarm of acid flies
which flew immediately after Vena.
The goddess, unaware
of
the flies, watched as a giant storm cloud drew near from the
north.
Without warning
the
flies were upon her and she
screamed as they melted her flesh away
.
Thorn grinned in
·
ecstasy
as he
watched her fall back to the plateau in
excruciating pain and approached for the final blow when he
caught
sight of something, a necklace, Vena's necklace.
It
was said to be the source of
her
power
.
If
he
could get
i t .
.
. ?
Thorn banished the flies and stood over Vena in
defiance as she writhed in pain.
"I
have won,
11
he said.
"And as a victory prize I shalt
take thy most powerful possession!"
But as he reached down
to take his prize, a
rain
of lightning came down from the
storm cloud.
Thorn doubled over as bolt after bolt hit
him.
Enraged, he focused all of his power on the cloud and
disintegrated it.
He then turned back to Vena, who was
getting up and
struck
her down once again with a taloned
claw.
With glee he ripped the necklace from its owner
and
held i t up to the sky
as
he howled in victory!







With
Ve
na's
so
u
rce of power in
his
han
d
s
, sh
e wou
ld
surely
give herself
up
to
him
.
Howe
ver,
it surpr
iset
him
when
she
unsteadily
stood
up and faced
h
i
m
with
untold
b
ravery.
"Evil
.
..
cannot ...
p
re
vai
l
... f
orever
.
s
oon
...
the
p
o
w
er
of good
..
.
w
i
l l overcome thee,"
she
wh
is
pered.
Thorn
scowled, truly
sick
of
this talk of
good overcoming evil and
was
just
about
to
rip her to shreds when he
felt
a
strange
tingling
i
n his hand
.
He looked over and saw a white
light
emanating from the necklace.
As
he
wondered what i t was
he
felt his hand stiffen
and
with horror rea
l
ized w
h
at was
happening.
He
tried
with all
his might
to
stop
the
slow
but
effective magic
of
the necklace, but to no avail
.
Despite
all of his
efforts,
i t
was slowly turning him
to
stone.
Vena stepped back as Thorn's fury
unleashed incredible
power.
Within the
next
few
minutes,
whole mountains were
torn
asunder, great earthquakes ravaged
the
land as far
as
the
horizon, tidal waves sunk unknown islands
in
distant
oceans, and
the heavens
rumbled
and roared with
hurricanes,
tornadoes
and the like.
Only the great and ancient P
lat
eau
was unaffected.
Thorn, as the stone crept
up
his neck,
flashed an intimidating look at Vena.
"Do not think that your
toy
can stop me here and
forever," Thorn struggled with the words as if
he
still
might yet
stop
the stone that threatened to encase.
"I will return!" Thorn
screamed
and Vena turned
away
as
a blinding flash of light shot
out
from his face.
"After that,
Vena
stood alone on the Great Plateau that
we now call the
Tower
of Victory,"
stated
the old man
in
red
robes,
as he leaned back onto a barrel full
of
ale.
The
liquid sloshed around as the
old
wagon travelled down
the
road.
some escaped and seeped into
the warping wood of the
wagon's floor as the storyteller tried to refill
his
tankard.
Silently,
a group
of
wide-eyed children sat quite
uncomfortably
on the splintering
wood wrapped in wool
blankets.
Their attention
was solely
on
the old man who
had
captured i t for several
hours.
It was
night
now, the
only
light
emanating
from the
crescent moon
high above and two torches
mounted
at the
front of the wagon.
The wagon was
small,
with
a
two
-
man
bench at the front for the drivers
and
an open back space
just big enough for an old man,
his
audience and a keg
of
ale.
Though i t was well
into the
night,
the
moon and
the
torches illuminated enough
to
see the narrow edges of the
dirt
path they followed, lined with a variety of trees, yet
vibrant with the life of spring.
In the distance, sounds
of
animals
echoed through the valley Kalo, reminding the
children again of
what they were leaving behind.
"I want to go home!" a freckled, red
-
headed little girl
stated
as
she
cradled her doll of cloth and wool with both
arms.
"So do I!" said a young boy covered in dirt,
who
seemed
to catching sniffles
all
of a sudden
.








Be
fo
re a
n
y
o
n
e cou
ld bl
i
nk
an e
y
e,
t
he whole
gr
ou
p
o
f
c
h
i
ldr
e
n
w
as
bawl
in
g.
T
h
e d
rive
r
, a ra
t
-f
aced
m
an i
n
f
ar
mer's c
l
othes
,
with du
l l
br
o
wn eyes, sh
a
ggy
b
l
ack hai
r,
a
nd u
n
kempt
s
tubb
l
e,
j
ust grinned
a
s he lo
o
ked bac
k
t
o se
e
the
o
ld foo
l
wit~ his hands full
o
f mise
r
ab
l
e ch
ild
ren.
'I'd like to see him start a story now, the dru
n
ken
ol
d
f
o
ol!' the driver almost said out loud, then tur
n
ed
t
o brin
g
h
is attenti
o
n back to the road.
T
h
ey had perfectly go
o
d
reason to be upse
t
, he supposed.
Tarne was t
h
e only home
they knew,
o
r he knew, for that matter.
This whole war,
that was the problem.
Who needed death and killing when
there was a tavern clos
e
by?
A few drinks and a wench or
two and these damned kings would forget all
a
bout who
h
ad
said what.
'But that won
'
t
ever
happen, poor bastards are
higher than society like that, I suppose.'
As
h
e pondered
what he would do w
i
th such things, he heard t
h
e old beggar
cal
l
him from behind.
"Billi, can'
t
you help me just a little bit with these
ch
i l
dren?
T
h
ey
'
re too m
u
c
h
for my old bones."
"Not t
o
mention your fuddled brain, Malcomrn.
I'd bet
me ale money
t
hat you can't count to ten right now."
"Nonsense!
"
Malcomm retorted
,
as he pulled down another
swig of ale
.
"Oh really!
I -
u
Billi cut himself off as he saw a
gro
u
p of perhaps eight horsemen wearing leather and armed
with make
-
shift spears galloping down the road towards t
h
em.
'I must be fuddled meself not to notice the sounds of eight
horsemen galloping towards us,' he yelled in his mind.
The eight of them rode up to the wagon, which Billi had
stopped by now, at a
tr
ot
,
then stopped a few feet away.
They waited there, their horses towering over the mules that
pulled the small cart.
They were not soldiers, far from it.
And they were not brigands.
They were farmers just like
Billi.
Anyone cou
l
d spot i t
-
the patched leather pieces
for armor, the
r
ough
l
y made spears.
But m
o
re than that,
they had no killing
i
n them, there was no blood behind
t
he
i
r
eyes.
They were no more used to fig
h
ting then he was at
staying with one woman.
Their leader, a tall man of middle
hair, blue
e
yes and a strong build from
field, leveled him w
i
th a steady glare.
watched in expectation
.
years, w
i
th brown
working out on the
The others
j
ust
"Billi
,
I could hear those kids all the way down
there
.
"
He gestured vaguely in the direction they had come
.
"You're supposed to keep them quiet!"
"Not my job, Hawkens!
The old fool back there got them
started." Hawkens shifted his gaze to Malcomm.
"Oh dear.
I gather I
'
m in a sma
l
l bit of trouble,"
Malcomm said while filling his tankard once again.
The children had stopped crying now that the men had
arrived
.
A few of them jumped out of the cart yelling
"Daddy, Daddy!" and were accepted into open arms as their
fathers got down from their horses
.









"I don't
want
to go
away
,
Daddy!" said
one
y
e
l l
ow
-
ha
ired
boy of ten to
hi
s fat
he
r,
Jacob
.
"Where's Mommy, Daddy?!
You said
she'd
be
he
re
tonight!"
another
dark-haired girl
of
the same age wailed t
o
her
fat
her,
Lyle
.
Hawkens
only
sat
th
ere
on
his horse looking at Malcomm
and Billi
with
a grimace.
"You two are useless!
What's
the point Of scouting
ahead
if all that noise brings brigands
or
who
knows
w
hat
else right to you?!"
"Really
Hawkens,
you
act as
if there are
pe
op
le
·
trying
to
kill
us
behind every bush
.
We're leaving the war
behind
us,
not travelling to it.
You're taking this
wh
ole 'in
charge' thing to
your
head is
what I say,"
Billi replied.
"Elder
Hamman
charged
me with bringing
the last
people
from
Tarne to the safe
hold at
Carnor and by Char's hell
I ' l l do it!
Even
if i t means leaving
Pell
or Taurus to look
a
fter
you
.
"
The two mentioned looked up
from
their
children and
smiled at
the prospect.
Malcomm looked
away
from Hawkens angry
stare to take in
the spot they had
stopped
at,
a
small
piece
of the
road
and
rocky,
but sheltered from
the
wind by trees and as good
as
any spot for maybe ten leagues
.
"Are we stopping
then?"
he asked.
Hawkens looked
around and saw the
starting
of
settling
down
for
the
n
ight
spread throughout
the men he was travelling with.
He
sighed,
then answered "I had hoped to make i t to
Stoney Vale
before we
turned in, but
we're
all tired.
W
e'
l l
make camp here and start
early next
morning
.
"
The fathers
comforting their
children
looked up
in approval and started
to
unpack
their
gear
from
their saddle bags as
the
rest
of
the children came
down from the wagon and sat by where Jacob
was
making a
fire.
"Good,
that.
I
don't envy
a
man
who's got
to
sle
ep
on
a
bed
of stone.
Not
that
rocky dirt road is any different,
but
...
"
Billi
started
to ramble
on
as he, too
started to
get
ready
to turn
in
.
While
unstrapping his own pack,
Hawkens
saw
Malcomm t
r
ying to l i f t a barrel
of ale twice his
weight
out
of the
w
agon
by himself.
Ha
w
kens hid a laugh
and
w
alked over.
"I
don
'
t think y
ou'
l l
need your ale
this
night, old
fool," he
said
and tried
to
push the barrel back into place,
but Malcomm swatt
e
d his hand away
.
"Get away from that
now!
An old
man
needs his liquor
to
warm
his old
frail bones
or
else freeze during the
night!
Y
ou
wouldn't
let
a p
oor
old man
freeze
to
death w
oul
d
you?"
"Of course not," Hawkens replied, as he forcefully
pushed the
barrel back into place, despite the
old
man's
flailing arms
.
"I'll
give y
ou
my wool blanket
for
the
night
.
"
And with that Hawkens walked away from Malcomm's
complaints and threats to
sit
at the now lighted fire and to
share
in
the food
that the
stocky, grey
-
haired
Jacob now was
cooking.








Much later when all t
h
e children were a
s
lee
p,
Haw
kens
s
a
t by the fire
a
lone.
Ha
v
ing taken fir
s
t wa
t
ch
,
every
one
else was asleep.
It Was perhaps midnight or l
a
t
e
r and th
e
p
e
rfect stillness was the kind
o
f e
n
v
i
ronmen
t
H
a
w
k
e
ns lik
ed
best.
Back at the village he ha
d
been a hunter, and a
p
r
et
t
y g
oo
d one.
Not as good as Olmar or Pe
l l
-
they co
ul
d
track an eagle across the whole of valley Kale!
It w
a
s
n't
hi
s s
k
i l l that mattered as much as the feel of i
t a
ll,
t
he
solitude i t gave you
.
The feeling of being on your own.
It
was something that Hawkens had gotten used to ever since
Olmar had taught him how to string a bow.
A
l
l that d
i
dn
'
t
matter n
o
w though, all
t
hat mattered was to g
e
t h
i
s pe
o
ple
to Carner where they would be safe.
Only thirty more
l
eagues to the west and they would be there; bu
t
what then?
That was the question that needed to be answered.
Perhaps
he would return to Tarne and get the thing
s
he couldn't
bring before, or maybe he would go north to Pealland
or
and
g
i
ve that lunatic, King Borus Manframe, a knock on the head
for getting them into this foolishness.
Then again maybe he
would just go home.
Thinking of home, however, brought to mind again the
actual reason they had left in the first place
.
They had
been ordered to do so by an officer of the satilian Army.
He had told them that the invading armies of Kylendria had
come too close to the area and that they had to leave their
homes at once for the safety of earner
.
Hawkens wanted no
part of their war
.
It was his country, but wars were for
fools that wanted to show their strength to all
.
This war
was no different than two bullies trying to see who was the
tougher
.
Hawkens shook his head
'
Perhaps they will come to
their senses before any blood is spilt" he thought, then got
up, truly baffles at i t all, to change watch.
As he looked
up from he fire, he froze.
A pair of red lights looked out
of the foliage at the side of the road directly at him.
Fear struck Hawkens as he caught the huge silhouette of some
kind of beast only ten feet from the camp.
A low growl held
him with terror as i t began to move forward out of the
trees.
Something had to happen, whether good or bad, and
Hawkens had to be the one to do
i t
.
Malcomm, Billi, Olmar and the rest were all still
asleep
.
He had to wake them up.
The second he moved to
yell a warning, the creature lunged with lightning speed.
Hawkens was unable to dodge the attack and fell backwards as
the creature's full weight collided with him.
He struggled
with the beast, fending off tearing claws and rending teeth,
but to no avail
.
Hawkens knew he was going to die.
Suddenly the creature jarred upwards with a shriek of
pain as Jacob and Lyle stabbed i t
in
the back with their
spears.
It leapt off Hawkens and turned on its new prey.
As Hawkens looked on he saw i t clearly for the first time
.
It was some huge wolf, but too big to be natural.
It was
twice the size of any man!
And the thing had two spears in
its back and was still walking!










O
l
mar, ~aurus, and
Pe
l l
joined the fight
w
i t
h
the b
eas
t
just
as Jaco
b was
knocke
d
aside by a massive paw and lay
still.
Billi and Malcomm suddenly appeared
at
Haw~ens'
s:de
,
helping
him
up.
While the
children
wa
i
ted
crying
in
the
wag
o
n,
and the wag
o
n's
mules
were
being replaced
with
two
of
the
horses
by Gerald
and
Coro
.
"Q
uickly
!
Tell
them
we must get
away!
That
thir~g
will
ki
l l
us all
if we don't
!
"
Malcomm practica
l
ly screamed i
n
Haw
k
ens
'
ear.
While looking at the fight, Hawkens
could
see
i t
was true.
Three spears
now
protruded from the beast,
but
i t
neither slowed
nor showed signs of retreating.
Taurus
and Pell now joined Jacob on the ground,
lying
in pools
of
crimson.
And Olmar who had fought
bears on his
own before
this,
was covered with sweat and blood and wou
l
dn't
hold up
much
longer.
"To the wagon!" Hawkens screamed in desperation.
Olm
a
r
and Lyle
heard
and started their
w
ay
over
while fending the
creature
off.
Malcomm jumped into the back, with a
nimbleness he had never shown before, and kept the
children
under
control, whil
,
e Billi ran and leapt into
the
front
seat,
grabbing the reins
.
Gerald and Coro helped Hawkens
into the wagon, then turned to help Olmar and Lyle.
"No, you fools!
All of you get down!" Malcomm yelled
as he reached into his robe and brought
out
a small glass
vial in seconds.
The next instant i t was hurtling
through
the air and hit the ground right before the beast just as
Olmar and Lyle
ducked
out of the way.
A blinding explosion
followed and the next
thing
Hawkens saw was Olmar, bloody
and
broken, along w
i
th Lyle
in
the same condition being
carried on the wagon by Gerald and Coro as the wagon started
to
speed down
the road, leaving the beast floundering
around
back by
the
campsite along with several good f
r
iends
.
"Olmar, what was that thing?" Lyle asked while nursing
a large gash on his hip.
"I don
'
t know, but I've never seen anything
like
i t in
my life." The statement
itself
was as frightening as the
beast, for Olmar knew abou
t
all creatures if not
just
having
heard
of
them
.
The fact that he didn't know what had
attacked them was unnerving.
"But you have to know what i t is, you kno
w
everything
about this valley!" Gerald yelled.
"I to
-
" Olmar winced as he wrapped yet another
of the
dozens of cuts and gashes that now riddled the forty
-
year
old
man.
"
I
told you I've never seen anything like it.
I
don't think i t came from the valley."
"Yes, did you see the scales i t had?
There were scales
underneath that fur!
It gives me the shakes just
thinking
about i t
.
"
Lyle added.
"Well i t ' s over now
.
That thing is blinded and i t
won't find us before we get to carnor,
11
Hawkens reassured
the
group.
In the background,
l
eaning up against the back railing,
Malcomm stared intently back at the way they had come.
"Something has started here," Malcomm whispered with
a





frown.
Then
turned
to comfort the children who had
f
allen
to crying again
. . . . . . . .








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