Marist College
Literary Arts Society
Presents
The Mosaic
-t
I
Brain Matter
.
Issue 2
Spring Semester










BRAIN MATTER
Welcome to the second installment of the Literary Art
Society's publication, the Mosaic.
I would like to thank all of
the contributors to last semesters issue, and hope that you will
continue to send us material.
With your help, we can make this
publication better for students and faculty alike.
Starting with the next issue, which will be out in about a
month, we will be publishing material for our faculty as well as
students.
The English dept. has helped us a great deal, and we
would like to say thank you to them.
This magazine is for the
campus, and without student and faculty help, we wouldn't be
where we are today.
Again, thank you for your support.
J3~
J
Ul~J
Brian
J.
Elias, President









President, Brian J.
Elias
Vice-President, Norine
Mudrick
Secretary,
Arny
Ellenes
Tresurer, Justine
Seremet
Advisor, Dr.
Richard Grinnell
Editors
Jason Crandell
Jen Lee
Jackie Lynch
Micheal Stanet
Dana Buoniconti
Mark Francisco
Bryan
M. Walko
Joe Marranca
Special
Thanks
Dr. Milton Tiechman
Robert Lynch
Steve Sansola
Dr. Steven Killion
And the entire English Dept.









Table
of
Contents
CLUELESS
by Scott
Wyman
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . pl
CHANGED MIND
OF
LOVE by Kevin O'Neill . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . p2
F-STOP by Trisha D. Wray . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . p2
DREAM VISION by Mike Pappagallo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . p3
RED TONIGHT by Cathleen O'Brein
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
p4
THE RAPE by Andrea Murphy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . p5
STAR
TREK: A PARODY by Bryan M. Walko . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . p5
SONG OF MONOTONY by Tanya Andrasko . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . p16
UNTITLED by Tom Becker . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . p17
A
BEGINNING by Jason Crandall . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . p18
THE PASSENGER by Mark Francisco . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . p20
THE LONGEST ROAD by Brian J. Elias . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . p26
....
"'«:...
.
'.
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~-----
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:
:
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:
:
!
!
l
!
l
i
I
l
I
CLUELESS
CAUSE i hAVEN'T gOT a CLUE, hAVEN'T gOT
a
CLUE
nOTHING i s tHE wAY i WANT iT
to
bE,
aND no CHANGE WILL eVER cOME
to
mE,
CAUSE I
hAVEN'T gOT
a
CLUE,
hAVEN'T
gOT a CLUE
i T SEEMS i , LL nEVER sAY jUST wHAT i
WANT
to
SAY,
fOR i WILL SIT aND jUST STAY tHIS wAY,
CAUSE i hAVEN'T gOT a CLUE, hAVEN'T gOT
a
CLUE
mAYBE SOMEDAY i
I
LL aSK mYSELF eXACTLY wHY,
bUT rEPLY mAY bE a SIMPLE sIGH,
CAUSE i hAVEN'T
gOT
a cLUE, hAVEN'T
gOT a
cLUE
sENSE? yEA, lIFE mAKES
lITTLE
oF i T,
tENSE? yEA, lIFE mAKES lOADS oF i T,
CAUSE i hAUEN'T gOT a CLUE, hAVEN'T gOT
a CLUE
aND i OBVIOUSLY dON'T kNOW WHAT
to
dO,
wHEN iT COMES
to
mE
so dON'T aSK aBOUT yOU,
CAUSE i hAVEN'T gOT a CLUE, hAVEN'T gOT a
CLUE
oUT oF tOUCH wITH yOUR rEALITY?
I
mAYBE
. ..
bUT tHAT' S jUST tHE wAY
i
sEE,
CAUSE
i
STILL hAVEN'T gOT a CLUE,
STILL
hAVEN'T gOT
a
CLUE
-- sCOTT
WYMAN
!
1
I
•-••u •••
••-•••••
••
• •-•
•
•• ••• • • - • -
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.,.
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•
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•••
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• •
•••
••
•
•
••
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••
•• ••
•
•
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••
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•••• ••
•• ••
• •-•••
•• -
•••••-
•• ••• -
••
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• - • - •
•
- •
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• -
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:
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i
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:
Changed Mind Of Lo
v
e
!
by Kevin O'Neill
/
Oh,
I drive you to your gate with your hollow face
/
Midnight bells were chiming, no one was deciding
!
Trail of indecision led, Oh across your head
./
The visions shed were lost instead
And illusions blew on bye
.:./
Oh, to converse with you brings me impression too
Mighty hymns are swimming, no ones winning
,:.!
Tail of two sides disagreed
The visions shed were lost instead
/
And illusions blew on bye
:
Oh, to see you go has confusion bows
:
Mind is whispering,
time is tinkering
Trail of indecision led, Oh across your head
The visions shed were lost instead
,
And illusions blew on bye
-Good bye-
'
!
!
2
F-stop
by Trisha D. Wray
The flash of the cameras
The blue light that flickers
For a moment, but the end
Results last for a lifetime
The flash of the camera
Like the beat of
my
heart
It lingers only to stop
At an unexpected moment
The flash of the camera
Bright lights, burning lights













































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I
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:
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:
:
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!
!
Sting
in my eyes until they burn
!
j
And
begin to tear, just as they do
!
I
When
you
leave me.
Dream Vison
by Mike Pappagallo
In my dreams you walk dripping from the sea-journey on the
highway across America in tears to the doors of my cottage in the
"Western
night"
And I wait for you.
And in my dreams you come with open arms, for though your heart
is
sad, it is warm and
inviting
And I embrace you.
And in my dreams you sing to me, a song that I, myself wrote to
::::=:::!
you,
my dear.
And you remember the words and melody, as your
voice
sounds like heaven to my ears.
And I hum along.
And in my dreams we drink the wine 'till the bottle's buttocks is
dry and we cry and laugh and reminiscence.
I tell you that I
love
you and I always have.
And I hold your hand.
And
in my dreams we set upon the record player, a song we did so
love
when we were young.
And we drift along the floor in time.
And I hold you close.
And in my dreams I kiss your lips and feel the warmth of your
body.
And my hands caresses the curvature of your hip as we
still move in time.
And I
continue
to hold you.
And in my dreams you push me away, as you did that night when we
were young.
And you turn to me with teary eyes as you slap my
pentinent
face
.
And I apologize.
3
:
'
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-
And in
my
dreams you walk
away and slam the door on
your
way
out.
My eyes again are teary as
I rush to the door to stop you.
Too
,
late once more.
And
And in
my
dreams
I
wind, which
brings
And
And in
my
dreams I
too another,
whose
is
more sinewy.
I weep.
open the door and am blown back by
the
cold
with i t the dark clouds that loom overhead.
I look for you.
see you there among the trees.
I see there
face is more striking than mine and whose body
And I hold out
my
hand for you.
And in
my
dreams you turn away and leave with him in the dark,
stormy night.
And you never look back.
And again I wait for you.
And
my
own guilt brings me to handle the pistol in
my
closet.
And I caress the cool steel between
my
fingers as I raise the gun
to
my
head.
And again I weep.
And
my
memories of you grow stronger as I sit, and the tears flow
like rivers down
my
cheeks as I picture you walking back across
the America toward another unending sea-journey
...
with him.
And I pull the trigger'.
RED TONIGHT
by Cathleen O'Brien
Red tonight;
too
red
for lights
for thought
or the poetry
you squeal
during the
Ceremony
in
the
room.
By the scorched
hot
moon
too
red,
Too
soon,
Fleshy
red lunacy
In
the
flashy-robed
sky,
Together',
they fly.
4















































i-
-- --- -····---·-·· --
-·-
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·- --·-
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·
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---···- -
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··-·-1
!
:
.
.
'
.
'
.
.
.
.
.
!
:
1
!
!
i
i
i
:
!:
The Rape
::::
b
y
Andrea Murphy
i
A s
ti
nger
t
o a rose
l
!
j
u
s
t be
y
o
n
d a pristine blossom
,
!
i:
.
sweet honey on the bee's brain
·
as he gather
'
s her pollen.
P
erennia
l
rose is from a bulb
She grows a thick, thorned stem,
But each petal's pride is spread
for the bee again.
S
he can
'
t deny her graces
as
a creature of creation
i
n p
r
eservat
i
on and defense of
po
lli
nation penetration
.
Its the inevitab
l
e curse
for a pure and gentle rose
and blood covers her maligned petals
in her proud pose
.
STAR TREK: The Next Generation
"Hamster Dreams and Stranger Things ... "
A Parody by Bryan Walko
Original Star Trek concept by Gene Roddenberry
Setting
:
Picard's Ready Room, just outside the bridge.
[Picard is using his desk viewscreen to talk to someone
.
The "Starfleet Command" screen pops on, and then we see
a rather important looking Starfleet Admiral.]
5
!
'
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....
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.
..
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_
.
.
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...
_.













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1
Ad
m
i
ral
:
Good even
i
ng capta
i
n Picard
.
Pi
ca
r
d
:
Good evening Admiral Gambolputty de
von
Ausfern-
schplenden-schlitter-crasscrenbon-fried-digger-
dingle-dangle-dongle-dungle-burstein-von-knacker
-
thrasher-apple-banger-horowitz-ticolensic-grander
-
knotty-spelltinkle-grand
l
ich-grumblemeyer-
spelterwasser-kurstlich-himbleeisen-bahnwagen-
gutenabend-bitte-ein-nurnburger-bratwustle-gerspurten-
mitz-weinache-luber-hundsfut-gumberaber-shonendanker-
kalbsfleisch-mittler-aucher
von
Hautkopft of Ulm.
Admiral: Of course, you may call me John
.
Picard
:
Of course.
Admiral
:
Now Picard
, I
want to warn you. I have heard that
things are getting pretty silly there on the
Enterprise and, if I hear anymore of this nonsense,
I will personally come to your ship and decommission
her
.
P
i
ca
r
d: I am sorry sir. But we were infected with one of those
rare space diseases that makes everybody fall
i
nto a
drunken stupor. It is protocol
t
hat this disease h
i
ts
the Enterprise
every
20 e rs.
Adm
i
ral: Understood
.
You know, it must be a welcome change
afte
r
a
ll
those rapid-aging diseases
.
P
i
card
:
Yes,
it
is
.
If I got any older
,
all of my hai
r
would
f
all out and
even
Bev wouldn't sleep with me
.
Admi
r
a
l:
Funny, in your S
t
arfleet b
i
o-file under hair, it says
"
none"
.
Anyway
.
I would like to commend you on you
r
defea
t
of the V
i
c
i
o
u
s
C
h
ic
ken of Beta 5
.
I would like
6






























i
i
l
i
:
i
i
i
\
i
:
i
i
!
!
i
:
l
!
I
i
!
!
i
you to promote the crewmember that you believe was most
important in vanquishing the vile Chicken-Beast.
Picard: Well Admiral, due to extreme coincidence and a
particularly indecisive writer, my entire bridge
phasered the beast simultaneously.
Admiral: Hmm ..
.
That is a problem. Well you can only promote
one, so you decide Picard. Admiral Gambolputty de von
Ausfern-schplenden-schlitter-crasscrenbon-fried-digger-
dingle-dangle-dongle-dungle-burstein-von-knacker-
thrasher-apple-banger-horowitz-ticolensic-grander-
knotty-spelltinkle-grandlich-grumblemeyer-
spelterwasser-kurstlich-himbleeisen-bahnwagen-
gutenabend-b
i
tte-ein-nurnburger-bratwustle-gerspurten-
mitz-weinache-luber-hundsfut-gumberaber-shonendanker-
kalbsfleisch-mittler-aucher von Hautkopft of Ulm
signing out.
[The viewscreen pulls back to reveal that the Admiral was wearing
the standard tunic, with a short pink tutu and ballet slippers.
He pirouettes into the sunset.]
[Begin Star Trek Theme]
Picard: Space, the final frontier
..
. These are the voyages of
the starship Enterprise..
.
Its continuing mission
,
to
explore strange new worlds ... To seek out new life and
new civilizations
...
To boldly go where no one has
gone before ...
[crescendo of the theme)
Picard: Thank God! So often in these stupid parodies, I manage
to make a total fool of myself in the opening
credits ..
.
7
-
"
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I
!
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.
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.
.
•...
-
.
...
.
.........
.
_
..
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..
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..
.
_
..
_
..
.
_
.....
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..
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...
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......
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..
_._
..
.
_.
___
...
_
..
..
_
..
_
___ ....
_
....
_
.............
.
[
P
i
card suddenly rea
li
zes the microphone
i
s still on]
P
i
card
:
Shit.
[Opening titles end
,
with the Enterprise priming up for Warp
speed. Rather than disappearing in a flash of light
,
it crashes
into the background scenery
,
leaving an enormous splat mark
.
]
[Picard enters the bridge, skipping along and whistling "Rule
Britannia."]
Bridge: Picard! [in the familiar Cheers style]
P
i
card
:
At ease
.
Riker:
Captain, I'm glad could make it to the bridge in time
for shuffleboard. [Sighs] I miss not being able to
stick Wesley's head into the photon torpedo tubes
.
[picking up shuffleboard stick] I hope he shows up at
the end of this episode to save us all. Especially
because of my trombone recital.
Picard
:
Oh, yes Number One. [picks up shuffleboard stick]
I should tell you that I have been notified that I have
to ... Mow the lawn in the holodeck. The Admiral said
the grass was getting too high
.
Sorry I can't make it.
Riker
:
Captain..
.
I see no reason why I cou
l
dn't move my
recital to the holodeck.
Picard: Oh
.
[
l
ooks extremely irritated] That won't be
necessary
.
Rike
r:
No,
I
insist!
Tro
i:
Oh, please Capta
i
n
,
the lawnmower w
i
ll drown out..
.
er
8




























.·-··
..
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..
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..
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..
······-·-···
·
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:
:
!
l
.
harmonize
so well with the trombone playing.
I
Picard: [Realizing that the welfare of many outweigh the
.::/
welfare of a few, nd then thinking that he doesn•t
give a damn about the welfare of the many stuff ... ]
1
No, it is out of the question. The lawnmower is a
:
,!
secret Romulan prototype. It is a top secret mission.
The lawnmower gives off dangerous radiation that can
:
only be withstood by French/English Starfleet Captains.
Captain Pierre LePoop-Smithe of the HMS London will be
the only one joining me.
Troi:
Captain, I sense that you will be in great danger if
you and I ever meet alone in the turbolift.
[Picard glides the shuffleboard puck a bit too far over the 50
point line.]
Riker: Yes! I win!
Picard: Number One, who commands this vessel?
Riker:
[Nudges puck into the 50 point area] Oh, my mistake,
it looks like you've won again. For the four hundred
and ninety-third time in a row.
Picard: Enough of this. I have been asked to promote one of
you for the Chicken of Beta 5 incident. I will have
to choose one of you within the next two hours.
Var:
Sir, may I remind ou that I was the one who tried to
push Wesley into the path of the Chicken
.
Picard: Yes, your actions have been noted. I...
[A series of beeps signals that the bridge is being paged.]
9
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__________________________
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,.
____
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_
_
.,
_______________
......
.
I
:
.
'
:
'
'
'
i
Guinan: [Over intercom] Tasha, I
have this
feeling
that you do
not
belong
in
this
universe.
Yar:
Damn. I
hate
when this happens.
[Tasha
disappears
in
a puff of smoke
.
]
Picard:
I
will make my decision shortly.
[Riker, Data, Worf and Troi all turn to Picard and glare.]
Picard: But right now, I must use the bathroom. Number One,
you are in charge.
{Pic
a
rd
e
nt
e
r
s
th
e
turbolift
.
1
R
i
ker
:
Data,
I
give the bridge to you.
[Riker follows into the turbolift and stands next to Picard.]
Riker:
Er,
I...
have to use the bathroom too. Did you notice
how I displayed extreme valor on Beta 5?
Data:
[Realizing what Riker is doing] Lieutenant Worf, I
place you in command of the bridge.
[Data follows into the turbolift and stands near Riker and
Picard.]
Worf:
[Running into the turbolift] Counselor Troi, you
have the bridge!
Troi:
[Meeting Worf at the turbolift and fighting to get
10
through the door] Ensign ... Um, whatever your name
is, you have the bridge!




















'
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!
~
f
i
:
I
[The turbolift doors close with all the bridge crew shouting
their accomplishments at Picard. The Ensign, at the helm
control opposite of Data's , is now the only person on the
J
bridge.]
i
Ensign
:
Gee, now I command the Enterprise!
:::I
[On the viewscreen, the stars start to shake and wiggle. A
Romulan ship decloaks. Immediately, the computer announces that
the Enterprise is being hailed.]
Computer
:
[In Wort's voice] This is Worf
.
The regular bridge
crew is not here right now
,
but if you leave your Name,
empire, and Ship Identification number
.
.
.
Ensign: Nol Computer open channel.
Computer
:
[In regular voice] Channel opened.
Ensign: Thank you.
Computer: [In Wort's voice] You
'
re welcome. [Changes voice to
regular style] I mean ... You're welcome.
[A Romulan captain appears on the screen. He has a grin on his
face. He is wearing a green felt vest reminiscent to "Robin
Hood" and a pink top hat with a trick arrow going through the
hat. All the other Romulans, except for one standing at his
side, are jumping up and down, pretending to be monkeys.]
Loony:
This is Captain Loony of the Romulan vessel "There's a
Tiger Behind You."
Ensign: "There's a Tiger Behind You"?!?!
Loony
:
[Looking around frantically] Where?! Where?!
11
I
!
'
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i


























1
·-··-·····-··-·-··-·····-··-············-··-·····-·········-·-·········-··-·--·-·····-··-----·······-·········-··-·-·········-··-·-··-·····-··-·····-·····-·····-·····-··-·-·········-·"
[Realizes
his
mistake]
Oh, sorry... I thought you
j
meant... never
mind
.
Ens
ign:
This
is Ensign
...
mmm
...
Ensign..
.
Well,
I've
forgotten
my name for now,
but
it's not
important.
This is an
Ensign on the Federation starship Enterprise. Why have
you entered Federation space?
Loony:
Hm
...
Oh! Why have we entered Federation space?
[whispers to the Romulan at his side. Suddenly, he
remembers] We have brought a gift.
Ensign: What kind of gift?
Loony:
[Whispers to the same Romulan] We believe you call
it... [Whispers again] A Matter/Antimatter bomb.
Ensign: If I take
it, it
won't blow up over here will it?
Loony:
[Pretends to look very surprised to the question] Oh
no! Never! We would not do something evil and devious
like that! No! [All the Romulans in the background
start singing, rather off tune, the words
0
Meryl
Streepll while doing jumping-jacks.]
Ensign: Well..
...
Alright.
[The Enterprise's shields drop, and a large, dangerous looking
contraption beams next to the captains vacant chair.]
[SCENE 2]
[Camera shot of the Enterprise sailing through space.]
Picard: Captain's Log
,
stardate 4136.33 repeat. I decided to
give the promotion to Tasha Var, posthumously. She was
12
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_
























-··-·····-··-·····-··-·
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!
the only person on the bridge .
.
. besides Ensign
.
.. what's
his name .
.
. who didn't follow me to the urinal. This is
not to say I didn't appreciate what Dianna did ..
.
but
that's for my personal log. I was going to award the
Ensign but he is going to die in only three pages
.
[Shot of bridge
.
All are present except Dianna and Picard.]
Riker
:
[Staring into space, a frequent habit for him
.
]
Computer, locate Counselor Troi.
Computer: Counselor Troi is located torpedo tube 5.
Riker:
Just what the hell is going on?l?I
Data:
[Turning to Riker] I believe Captain Picard ordered
Dianna to clean the photon torpedo tubes
.
[Shot of a ragged Dianna in a small crawlway
.
She is wearing
large floppy yellow rubber gloves, to keep her skin soft, and a
miners helmet with a light on the front. She is busy scrubbing
the side of the wall with a Brillo pad.]
[Meanwhile, back at the bridge
.
.. ]
Ensign: Sir! I'm picking up a unidentified spacecraft on the
scanners
.
Riker
:
Data, can you identify it?
Data
:
Sir, it is a private craft named "The Blue Triangle"
.
[The unidentified ship appears on the viewscreen.]
Riker
:
[Looking at the viewscreen] My god! It's blue ..
.
and
i
t's shaped like a triangle!
13
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_.
I
~






■
Picard: [Just entering from his office] Thank you for your
brilliant insight Number One.
Riker:
Thank you sir.
Picard: [Under his breath] Stupid git.
Worf:
The ship is hailing us captain.
Picard: On screen.
[On the screen is a large filing cabinet.]
Picard: [Speaking towards the screen] I am Captain Jean-Luc
Picard of the starship Enterprise. [He looks at the
screen as there is no response.] Hello?
Cabinet: Hello?
Picard: Hello. This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard. To whom am I
speaking?
Cabinet: I am Brian Wobble.
Picard: Er
...
[Looking puzzled] Why am I looking at a filing
cabinet?
Cabinet: I'm hiding from the evil Spam empire! If I disguise
myself as a filing cabinet, they won't find me!
Picard:
Ah yes, quite right.
Riker: Sir, have you noticed his ship is blue and it
is
shaped
like a triangle?
Picard:
Very good Number One. I am proud of you.
14






















!
-
·-·····-··-·
-··-··.
··-··-. -··-.
····-·. -·-.. -··· ..
-··-
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·
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·
-···. ·-·· -·-·
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·
-··. ·
·
-·· -. -·
··
·. -·
·
·· ·
-·
.
-·
···. -·. -\
Riker:
Don't I get a gold star?
Picard:
No, not now.
Riker
:
I wanna gold star!
Picard:
[Turning to Data] Data ...
[Data gets up and takes out a small sheet of paper. He peels off
a gold star and pastes it on Riker's chest.]
Riker: I like stickers!
Worf: Sir, there is an
incoming
message from the Admiral.
Picard:
On screen.
[The screen splits in half, one side is the cabinet, AKA Brian
Wobble, and the other side is the Admiral.]
Picard:
The RCA split screen TV features a 47 function wireless remote
...
Admiral: Picard! I told you not to act silly!
I'm
warning
you ...
Bridge:Awwww!
TO BE CONTINUED NEXT ISSUE
15
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,.._
...............
_.,.
_______
,.,._,.




16
Song of Monotony
by Tanya Andrasko
Song of Monotony
Have no fear
Do not linger behind so
Your shadow is lazy
And reveals your
Hiding place
What gossip do you
Bury in your bag of tricks?
What to tell
Of Hazard?
Spontaneity?
Youth?
Chain me not with your
Nine-to-five schedules
And mortgage payments
I can do without.
You can try your best
To make me a disiple
You may succeed in
Taking me prisoner
But I have friends
On the outside and
The are shrewd.
You will never find the file
In the birthday cake the bring
And You
' l
l miss me when I'm gone.












:
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In a tender circle
soft lines
smooth curves
grow the hopes of a few
bound by a thought
together
Many weather the brimstone
Sunshine smiles must travel
Cold shattering truth
Pain seems so strong
Fall back on the circle
Where true souls belong
-Torn Becker
17
...
OOHO
O
•••-•
•
-•-·•-•••••••••••••••• ......................
• • - • • • • • -
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•••••••
..
••• ..
•• .. ••
....
••
•••-•o••
o
•••
•
•••••o
o
•••••··




























·-··
··
·
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·-·········
·
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··-
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A BEGINNING
by Jason Crandall
A light patter of rain echoed through the valley, as
two
boots jumped down from the worn srirups of a middle
aged horse
into
a shallow puddle.
If you looked up you'd
see that the boots belonged to a beautiful young woman
whose body was mostly shrouded by a heavy looking armour.
An overflowing backpack, stained dark brown by the rain,
hung from her cramped right shoulder. A few items, such as
battered iron lantern, a small cracked mirror, and. a few
steel spikes spilled out as she laid i t upon the ground.
With the heavy burden gone, she proceeded to unbuckle her
belt from which
two
swords were attached and laid i t on top
of her pack, next to her horse
.
She stood tall and
repostioned her black leather hat so that some of her
golden hairrested upon her shoulders.
Al tea's surroundings were bleak, nothing but fog could
be seen, and the mud they'd been slogging through for hours
to get this godforsaken forest, that now only stood a few
dozen feet ahead of her.
The weather, Altea thought, i t ' s
always the damn weather!
Altea had been on a quest to free
a great force of good for a few weeks now and ever since
the begining every force imaginable stood to see her fail.
The weather was the only thing that seemed to be the only
thing on her side, but now even that has turned against
her, that she needed help, and the wood elves seemed to be
the best possible candidates.
Of course,
this would
require some massive protocol skills, since the elves hated
outsiders.
"I
don't like this. The wood elves aren't going to
take kindly to us tresapassing, even if one of us is half
elf," a feminine voice stated behind her.
With those words, Altea reached back to feel the
slight point at the top of the right ear that confirmed
what she was.
She then turned around to face her four good
friends, the ones that had stuck with her in her darkest of
hours.
They were an unlikely band of companions, perhaps
18
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"
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i
the most unlikely Altea thought she would have ended up
i
with. But they were better than any of the likely ones she
ever could have found.
"I don't intend on trespassing, Kalia, in fact, I was
planning on being invited in," Altea responded.
"What
!
?" What a hot head Kalia was; Al tea could not
remember one time when
she didn't get excited over
something, or a time when she didn't get mad when something
over something that didn't go her way.
However, she did
seem to take her anger out in battle which made her a
vicious fighter.
"Do you expect those elves to let us just come in and
do whatever we want?!" Kalia retorted in a sardonic tone.
"Oh! You mean we ought to just charge on in, weapons
flashing and all, and demand their help? Where'd you leave
your brain, woman
!
" a squat gnome named Tori stated with
just a bit of satire.
Oh, those two were always fighting. Tori, a smaller
than small gnome alchemist who was a scaredy cat by nature,
but stood by you in a fight, was always trying to belittle
Kalia's intelligence.
In return, Kalia always made smart
remarks that Tori could sometimes beat, but either way, it
was a close match.
"Gee, Tori, maybe I left it in your stomach. Shall I
cut it up and see?" Kalia inquired gesturing to her sword.
"As if you could, woman, let
'
s see you try!" With
Tori standing at 3 feet 2" and Kalia at 6 feet 1", their
confrontations were comical and fun to watch, but Altea had
no time for it.
"Tori, Kalia.
Stop it right now
.
We have more
serious matters on our hands.
Phenien, how well do you
know these people? Will they listen to us?"
Altea asked
her third companion.
"I don't know.
They're liable to fill us full of
arrows if we
'
re not careful.
But as for listening ... "
Phenien, a wandering fighter who knew most of the continent
and the people who lived in it, let his sentence run off to
show them how much he knew.
"I don't think they' 11 be very hostile once we tell
them what we're offering, remembering their war with the
goblins has hurt them a lot and our quest's success means
salvation from that war."
Morlicks, a battle worn soldier
19






















































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.
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.
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.
..
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.
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...
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.
__
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.
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...
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.
.
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_
___
.
__
.
.
_
.
.
_,
whose advice made a big difference, sometimes, supported
Altea's move.
His attitude and help was always a comfort
to Altea.
"ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Tori yelled
.
All heads turned on
Tori's horse to see him hanging upside down with his pants
leg caught somehow in his stirup. He must have been
.
trying
to get off his horse, Altea thought
.
If Tori wasn't the
worst horseman in the world, then he wasn't too far off.
"
Imbecile, don't you know that gnomes can't ride
horses.
"
Kalia smirked
.
"Silence woman! I ... " Tori ordered and was about to
continue when a vial from his red cloak's pocket fell out
and hit a rock on the ground.
It shattered and a small
explosion, from the liquid inside, blew right under Tori's
horse, frightening the beast very badly.
The animal then
shot off into the woods like lightning
.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ! ! ! " Tori screamed as the horse, and
i
ts unwilling rider, disappeared into the forest.
"Kern." Kalia swore under her breath and whacked her
horse into a gallop, following Tori into the woods
.
"Well," Phenien said to Altea and Morlicks, "someone has
to save the
little guy."
With that, they all charged in
after Kalia.
THE PASSENGER
by Mark Francisco
"Well, at least it was a nice walk through the woods,"
Barry Ormond said quietly as he walked up to his car.
It was
mid-November and the grocery store manager was enjoying a
Saturday of deer hunting
.
Unfortunately, he didn't have much
luck and d
i
dn't see a deer the entire day.
Barry looked
around at
t
he darkening sky and thought of the hour-long car
trip back home.
"C
l
aire is really g
o
ing to kill me for
20
l
i
!
i
!
r
r
i
i
!
I
!
I
!
I
I
i
l
l
!
























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.
!
!
i
;
!
!
!
!
sta
y
ing out this late
.
I hope I make i t back by dinner time
or else she'll be made at me all weekend," Barry mumbled and
quickly stowed his hunting gear in the back of the car. After
finishing off the last few gulps of coffee stored in his
thermos Barry started down the road, leaving the desolate
autumn woods behind him.
The manager flipped the stereo to the "oldies" station, as
he hated to drive in quiet.
In fact, Barry hated silence in
,
general. It was always so quiet--except for hunting which was
different, of course.
"Yesterday" by the Beatles was playing.
It was a nice melancholy song, Barry thought--though the radio
stations overplayed it.
Fond memories surfaced in Barry's
:
::=:!:!
ponderings of the day it was first released.
"Was it '65 or
'66?" he asked himself, "must be 1965, the year I met Mrs.
Ormond."
That was twenty-nine years and forty pounds ago.
Barry looked down at his ever-widened stomach and sighed.
Claire was always trying to get him to exercise but he never
seemed to find the time or the inclination.
"Maybe that' 11 be
my
New Year's Resolution, " Barry smiled at the thought,
knowing full well that he would procrastinate for at least
another year.
Wait! Was that a hitchhiker? Barry looked back over his
shoulder and saw nothing.
For a second I could have sworn
there was someone standing beside the road.
Oh well, he
thought, shrugging his shoulders. Barry's thoughts drifted to
that of the upcoming Thanksgiving and he fell back into his
usually habit of talking to himself.
"Thanksgiving is coming
again
already.
I
must
talk
to
Claire
about
making
preparations.
To bad we have to go to Chicago this year and
have the holiday with her parents
.
She doesn't seem to notice
that the nice quiet Thanksgiving we have at home with Pa are
much better.
And we don't have to travel all the way out to
Chicago when we can stay in Vermont."
Suddenly, the car's headlights washed over a figure
walking on the shoulder of the road.
With the snow flurries
Barry didn't notice the man until he was along side the car.
Barry glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw the man falling
behind rapidly as the car sped through the frigid twilight.
"I hope he's okay, " Barry murmured with concern, "It didn't
look like he was dressed very warmly."
Barry looked at the digital clock set in the dash and
cringed at the time: it was half-past five.
The sky was pitch
21



































































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..
_
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.
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.
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.
_
-
-
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-
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i
i
~
I
!
!
i
!
!
!
.
.
'
'
'
'
:
:
'
'
!
:
!
:
l
black outside of the speeding car.
"Damn, I think I may be a
l
l
little late," the manager said with reluctance.
"It isn't as
!
l
if I intentionally stayed overlong in the woods.
I mean, who
l
!
could have known I would have found those fresh tracks right
!
.
!:i
then and follow them for two miles through the woods?
It was
:
.1
simply a minor oversight that I'm late.
Yeah, that's it,
!
Claire."
Barry continued to revise the story he was going to
!
!::
tell his wife and the minutes continued to slip by.
:_·:/
It was fifteen minutes later when he had a workable piece
i
of fabricated truth to relate to his wife concerning his
!
:
tardiness.
It was also at that time when his headlights
:
j
picked up a lonely figure standing on a particularly straight
I
:
stretch of rural highway.
"Another hitchhiker?" Barry didn't
:
!
usually stop for hitchhikers but this one looked a
bit
i
:
:
!
underdressed for the cold autumn winds that blew down from the
!
i
north.
He had a chance to pull over to the side this time,
:::!:!
and did so, slightly ahead of the pedestrian.
The figure walked slowly up to the passenger's side window
and tapped on the glass.
Barry obliged him by rolling down
:_!
the car window.
"What's seems to be the problem?" asked
:.·
Barry.
An icy draft blew in from the open window, chilling
:::
the motorist.
"I, ah, had some car trouble. Can you take me to a gas
station or something nearby?" the stranger asked calmly.
"Sure, hop in," Barry replied and released the auto-lock
button to the appropriate door.
The stranger swung open the
door and slid into the passenger's seat.
With a quick close
of the door and when the window was rolled up, Barry returned
to his trip down the road.
barry studied his new passenger thoroughly. The man was
young, in his late twenties.
He had a certain yuppie look
about
him:
Short
dark
hair,
handsome
features,
and
wire-rimmed glasses.
His dress was that of slacks, dress
shirt, and tie.
He wore no coat as protection from the
elements but, strangely, the man didn't seem to mind.
"No
coat?" Barry asked as a way to break the deafening silence.
"I seem to have forgotten it," the man replied without
taking his eyes off of the road in front of the car.
"I'm
Barry Ormond," said the manager as he extended a hand
in the direction of his passenger.
The stranger looked at it
for a few seconds before gripping it with his own right hand,
"My name is Keith Lane."
Keith's hand felt cold to the touch
22
!
______ ............................. -
...............
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..
................
....
....................
..
..............
...
...
.
.................
..
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..
......
_
.......................
_.
___ .,_,.,. __ ,. __
.
_____
._.,._,.,._,._,..,_ ..... _
....
i
l
i
!
!
!
I















































.
-
·
·
·
·
·
·
··
·
-·
···
·-
··-·
······
·
·
·
··
·
·
·····-
··
-
·
········
-
·
··
··
·
··
·
···
-
·
·
-·-
··
-·····
-
·
·
·
··
·
···
-
··
··
·
-
·
·
-
·
·
·
··-·
·
-··
·
·
·
·
·
··
·
·
········-·
·
··
··
·········
·
·
··············
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·······
··-
·
·
·
······-······
-
··-.
1
l
l
!
;
!
:
!
i
!
!
,
I
and it was rather unpleasant to hold.
Must have really been
=::!
11
11
•
cold out there, thought
Barry.
"So what do you do for a living, Keith?" asked Barry as
both sets of eyes returned to the seemingly endless road
ahead
of them. barry
began
to
suspect
that his passenger was a very
: :
·
!
:
reluctant conversationalist.
"I used to be an investment counselor."
"Used to be?
What do you do now?" persisted Barry,
!
wanting to know more about Keith, the stranger without a
winter coat.
"I'm helping
an
old friend out, currently. Doing some odd
jobs," replied
Keith
Lane
as
his
blue-gray
eyes swept over to
!
!
study Barry .
:
!·
"I see.
So where are you from?"
"Manchester."
"Where were you born?"
1
"Boston."
:::
:
:
_!
.
"Do any hunting?"
"No
.
"
"Ever go skiing?"
"Occasionally. I don't get much chance to do any lately,
:
:!
however."
"I do some myself. They say it should be a good winter
!
for it with all the snow they're predicting."
Keith did not
·
::_!
respond.
Instead, he resumed watching the road.
To Barry this seemed like a very uncooperative passenger.
=
:;
:
1
:
.
the manager thought
i
t was kind of rude to be so anti-social
at a time like this. Keith Lane seemed only intent at gazing
out the windshield at the road sweeping under the hood of the
:
_!
.
car.
Well, I suppose not all people are a talkative and
outgoing as me, speculated Barry. He broke the silence again
!:
twenty minutes later, "There's a gas station a few miles up
here on the right, you should be able to call someone there
1::
and get a ride down to Manchester." Keith nodded silently at
that.
:=:
.
1
:
1
:
·
The car passed on from the rural highway to the urban
outskirts of Barry's hometown
.
Only
a
few more minutes and
he'd be home, a little late--but intact.
"Look out for that kid!" Keith's yell ripped Barry's mind
.
=
=:!
back to reality.
A child in a red snowsuit almost seemed to
materialize right in front of the car.
Barry croaked in
horror as he lurched on the steering wheel
.
The car swerved
I
23
:
:
-·
···
·
···
·
··
··
···-
··
··
·
····-····
·
-··· ..
.
.......... ·-····
·
····· ............
.
......
.
....
.
.........
.
..
.
........
.
........
.
............... ·-·····--
·
·
...........
.
............. _ .
.
...
.
.
.
................ _______
_
__
......
.
..
.
. ____
_
,.
________
_
______
_ !












r-·--·····--·-·-··--·-·
·
-··-·····--·-·······-·····-·····-··-
·-
·········-·
·
-··-··-·····-··-·-··-·····-··-·········-············--··--·--················-··-·
·
···-··--········-··-···-········-···
·
I
'
to the opposite side of
the road, crashing
through
the child's
plastic sled.
Barry
nearly
rose out of his seat
to
put his
entire
weight on
the brake pedal.
The car gripped the road
and skidded
to a stop, twisting around so that i t faced the
wrong
way.
Barry's seat belt flew up and nearly choked him as
he was thrown forward by the sudden stop.
Suddenly, he was sitting back into his seat. His heart
was beating so hard i t felt like someone was pounding on his
chest with a
hammer
.
Silence surrounded him as Barry
realized, just then, what had happened.
The man quickly
removed his seatbelt and exploded from the car, his eyes
scanning the road.
Relief overtook him as he gazed upon a small girl in a red
snowsuit sitting in the road, crying but apparently unharmed.
He rushed over to her and gently lifted the tiny child from
the pavement. She was perhaps six or seven years old and she
had tears streaming down her face.
She was so small, so
innocent,
so defenseless.
"I'm
sorry, are you all right?"
Barry asked with concern.
The
child continued to sob.
"Lucy! Lucy! Oh,
my
God, Lucy! " screamed a woman's voice
from across the road.
The source of the voice was a
middle-aged woman running in hysterics toward him.
She
arrived a few seconds later and immediately took hold of
the
girl, "Are you all right, sweetie?"
"I'm sorry. She seemed to appear out of nowhere. I don't
think I hit her, just the sled.
She seems to be okay," Barry
said in a rush.
Everyone was still shaken by the near-miss.
"I 've told her not to play in the road over and over, " the
woman said a little more calmly now, as she hugged her little
girl, "Maybe she will listen to me, now."
"I'm so sorry," Barry said again, inhaling deeply.
"That's
all right," replied
the
mother, "I should've been
keeping a closer eye on her."
"It's a miracle I didn't
hit
her."
Mother and daughter were both smiling now as the mother
said, "We have to take miracles as they come."
They turned
and headed toward their house, "Please, drive safely."
Barry sighed as he watched the pair walk up to the house
and suddenly remembered that he had to get home, too.
The
motorist turned back to the car and saw Keith standing beside
it
with a faint smile on
his
face, "Nice reflexes, Bar:ry."
Barry nodded and s
a
id,
"Thanks
for pointing her
out.
If
24






































:
·-
··-·····---------------
--
---·-
----------··
·
..
··
..
··-·
·--·--
·
-··
..
·
··
··
·
···-
·
·-------
-
-------·---
--
-----·-·
·
------·-···-·-····
.........................
..
.
.
......
.....
-
......
..
...
...
_.
________
..........
_
..
_
..
_
..
,.
..
.
'
'
!
\
'
!
you
hadn't said something I would have hit her."
Keith Lane shrugged as he got back into the car. A minute
later Barry had the car repositioned and they were on their
=::!
way again, leaving the crumpled sled in the road behind them.
"Hey, guys, I'm home, " cried Barry Ormond as he walked
into his house, and instant warmth.
He could smell the pot
roast
cooking in the kitchen
and
hear the sounds of the
six-thirty news coming from the living room.
He was looking
forward to a nice quiet
evening at
home with his family after
the day's events.
Claire was there instantly, "Just where have you been?
You were supposed to be back a half-hour ago."
Barry seemed to have forgotten all the stories he had
formulated
earlier so he just told his wife about Keith and
the child,
"I'm
so glad I didn't hit that poor kid."
Claire seemed to grow understanding at his retelling and
simply
said, "Well as long as everyone is alright.
Now, go
take
a shower, you're all smelly
from
traipsing thought the
woods all day.
We'll eat right after you're done."
She disappeared back into the kitchen and Barry began to
hang
his heavy hunting garments on pegs in the small entryway.
After
he was down to normal clothing he made his way into the
living
room where Dan, his youngest son, was watching TV.
"Hi,
Dad. Did you shoot anything?" Dan asked without much
interest.
"Nope, the woods were pretty quiet today. I only saw a
few tracks.
So, how was your day?" answered Barry as he
looked
at his son.
"It
was okay, I guess."
Barry only nodded at his son's answer. That seemed to be
his opinion on everything these days.
He was about to head
down the hallway
into
his bedroom when Barry noticed something
on the news.
"Keith
Lane, of Manchester, " began the news-caster, "was
hit by an oncoming car this morning as he was returning.to his
own parked car to get a coat.
The twenty-seven- year-old
investment counselor was
taken
to Thurston Medical Center
where he died of extensive internal injuries."
I
I
!
25
·
····
·
······
·
-·
·-·
····
..
···· ..........................................................................
.
....
.
...........
....
.......................
.
..
...
..
...
....
.....
..........
...
..............
.........
.....
.............
_
.....................
.
..
.
.
_, __________________
!











2
6
The Longest Road
I am a traveler on this well worn path,
I've done many things, and been to far off places
.
I've seen mountain glades and snowy tundra
,
Heard the howls of wolves and the laughter of children,
And felt the warmth of the sun and bitter cold winds.
I've felt the thorns of a rose and the touch of a woman,
Heard the music of genera
t
ions and those of the whales,
And seen the ocean waves and the birth of a child.
I've seen the beauty of a sunset and the color of blood,
Heard the cries of thousands and that of only one,
And felt the rain on
my
tongue and tears in
my
hand.
So look around you when your on the path,
You'll see me walking there too
.
I
'
ll be your guide if you like,
Just remember, your never alone.
-brian james elias
'
I
I
i
!






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