Adrien calmed the hot flush of anger and indignation. "You know I’d never do that,” she answered. "Yeah, right. Where’s my codeine?” Her hands began to tremble and she dropped the pan on the floor. "The dentist wouldn’t give me anymore,” she said quietly. “He said not until next week” Adrien felt... Show moreAdrien calmed the hot flush of anger and indignation. "You know I’d never do that,” she answered. "Yeah, right. Where’s my codeine?” Her hands began to tremble and she dropped the pan on the floor. "The dentist wouldn’t give me anymore,” she said quietly. “He said not until next week” Adrien felt anxiety like panic begin to rush through her body as Merle remained silent. She tried to compose herself, recalling the scene in the dentist’s office, knowin her failure to get the drugs was justified. He was a young dentist, blond hair and bright white teeth. She waited for him in his office, rather than the reception room, so she wouldn’t be so embarrassed to beg. "He’s in so much pain,” she’d pleaded. He told her “no” very firmly, but she blocked the doorway, trying to be convincing. Finally he pushed her out, conceding that she could come back in a week. Adrien knew this would enrage Merle, but had hoped his valium supply would hold him until she could get more. A sudden headache began to pound in her temples. As Adrien prepared dinner, the interrogation continued. "VVhat’s for dinner?” “Potatoes,” said Adrien. "Again? You worthless piece of shit, can’t you ever do better than that?” [ISO 'Il Thronrilghout the meal, he continued to complain, but Adrien’s mind wandered beyond the stream of insults. She remembered three years ago when they first met and went off to Key W$t together. Merle had been a mystical looking man then. He wore his graying hair long, and a beard, thin and flowing. His eyes were an aqua color, the dark pupil piercing. Everyone in Key West called him "the guru” including Adrien. She was pregnant when they met, abandoned by her boyfriend and her family and he said he loved her, he’d take care of her. She believed him because she had no one else to believe. Even after he’d taken her to Europe and started getting more violent and depressed, Adrien told herself it was just a stage he was in and he’d change. Then he became irrational and demanding. He blamed it on the "anxiety attacks” from a heart condition. Adrien wanted so much to believe him. He kept promising that things would change, she’d see. That seemed so long ago. Now Merle’s long hair and beard only felt coarse, old and dirty to her. His pot belly exposed his own failure as a mystic or guru. But it was his temper, grown out of control, that scared Adrien, paralyzed her from action. As Adrien recognized the disease in his mind and the drug abuse increasing, his promises turned cold. Like a caged animal, Adrien had lost all hope of change, all hope that he would return to the loving man he’d been. Merle’s insults permeated Adrien’s brain as she clung to old memories. But she couldn’t shake off the negativity of Merle’s depression. She had felt it intensely after leaving the Dentist’s office. On the way home, she turned into the alley instead of going up the driveway to the apartment buildings. She had found a spot between a wall and a garage where she sat with concrete behind her, concrete below her and concrete facing her. Somehow the solid sterility made her feel like it was a safe place, and there she wept, unsure of whether she was more afraid of facing Merle or going back to pressure 16 Show less
Set The Table Cathy Dalglish In this time of war Don't forget To put flowers On the table. Pull deeply held beliefs Pink and yellow daisies From the earth. Count the petals of what is right. Fill mother's white ceramic pitcher And don’t spill blood On the lace.
sitting out. I think he understands making statues. Knows why they are more important than something you talk about. He’s got his Stations of the Cross and Holy Madonnas. But if Fredrik came over here he’d ask questions. He’d ask why the statues are cluttering up my room, why I make them. I’m... Show moresitting out. I think he understands making statues. Knows why they are more important than something you talk about. He’s got his Stations of the Cross and Holy Madonnas. But if Fredrik came over here he’d ask questions. He’d ask why the statues are cluttering up my room, why I make them. I’m getting too far along to answer qU$tions anymore. I straightened out the statua on the lower shelf. I put the horses with riders on one side and the regular horses on the left. I kept the mermaid where she was. I was thinking about what I’d say if he did come and ask questions. I didn’t want him to ask about my big one. I kept her in the comer, in the dark part of the room by the wash tubs I melt wax in. The light doesn’t fade the color there. It’s a half size statue of Louise Brooks. I’d been working on her a long time. Four months, and had already gotten her back perfect. She’s wearing the bare back dress like in that Jack the Ripper movie. But her back was facing the wall. I didn’t want to be tempted to touch that part, because wax gets marked up real easy. I think ifI had to redo it, it’d be wrong. It " X" 1- X' X- I went back to the bar two days after that. Sinclair poured me a strong drink and told me that Fredrik was in the back "He’s talking about redoing this place, to get more people in here,” Sinclair was telling me as he wiped off the bar-top. "He maybe’ll talk to you about those candles. I put in some good words for you old man, and he thinks candles might be good. Romantic atmosphere you know, 00 li la. Guys could bring their gals here if there were candles.” Fredrik came out of the back then. "Haven’t seen you for a while,” he said. "He’s never down here at night no more,” Sinclair said about me. "Sinclair here says you’re a candle—maker.” Fredrik walked behind the bar next to Sinclair. We were the only three in there, and the two of them standing next to each other like that seemed like they might be ganging up on me. It’s a small and crowded place, and it was dark, too. "I’m thinking about redecorating in here. It needs more atmosphere. I might like to buy candlm from you. I can help you out if you can handle the order.” Fredrik talks deep. He talks so sure of himself. But I said, "I probably could.” I finished my drink and Sinclair poured me another. He knows I always just have one though. "Can you make red?” Fredrik asked. “Sure,” I said, “I can make just about any color.” "What about shapes? I bet you can’t make different shapes and sizes.” Fredrik was leaning forward, looking right into my eyes. If he didn’t really want to buy the candles, I wanted him to just let me drink and go home. “Sure the old man can,” Sinclair said. He reached over and patted my shoulder. That scared me and I looked away from Fredrik. "This old man’s got some talent. I bet he even makes those swirly ones.” “Yeah, I can,” I said. "Well, I’ll be out shopping around for new decorations for the bar on Wednes- day.” Fredrik stared at me again. "If you can make some big, really big candles, red ones with the bar’s name on them, in fancy letters, then you’ll have a customer. You still live on 37th, don’t you?” "Yeah, he does,” Sinclair answered for me. 69 Show less
q/D Raining Oil 2 Renee DeLong Thick-Black—Drops- slither off my felt hat- and crawl off the crumbling yellow brick next door, into puddles of sticky crude that gather in wild psychedelic streams on the splin- tered street and creep off under the haunting haze. A shivering child clenches my... Show moreq/D Raining Oil 2 Renee DeLong Thick-Black—Drops- slither off my felt hat- and crawl off the crumbling yellow brick next door, into puddles of sticky crude that gather in wild psychedelic streams on the splin- tered street and creep off under the haunting haze. A shivering child clenches my calloused hand and her sneakers slide on the greasy stones as the wet wool mist smothers the morning. % 33 Show less
He stared into the small rat eye of the possum. And then he raised his hand and said, Showtime? Lie to me, and I will walk away, he said. But the possum did not. He hissed. Take this, then, for anger, he said, and this, too, for grief, and this for the three days my wife has mourned her d... Show moreHe stared into the small rat eye of the possum. And then he raised his hand and said, Showtime? Lie to me, and I will walk away, he said. But the possum did not. He hissed. Take this, then, for anger, he said, and this, too, for grief, and this for the three days my wife has mourned her d isernboweled cat, and let’s just say it was you— you in our garbage, you in our feed pails, you in the barn at midnight chewing our horses’ bandages. I have no use for you. And when his hand was down the rat-black eye of the possum was open and relaxed. later he stood at a funeral, still feeling through the shovel, through his hands, the snap of water oak roots, and he remembered the story of the possum, and thought of the need to protect his dog, thought of his wife in the dark farmyard . The possum is only a ghost nibbling the roots of certainty. 29 Show less
Man Speaks Sherri Larson I am man. I walk behind you on the street tonight and your feet race faster nervous. You pull your scared eyes into your jacket collar and you cling to your purse in cold gloved hands. I am man. Iam following you, you think, and so now you j-walk scurry across the wet... Show moreMan Speaks Sherri Larson I am man. I walk behind you on the street tonight and your feet race faster nervous. You pull your scared eyes into your jacket collar and you cling to your purse in cold gloved hands. I am man. Iam following you, you think, and so now you j-walk scurry across the wet mirrored street. Under street lights you glance once my way. Don’t let me see you look at me. I am man but that is all. To you I am the medium height black man in a leather jacket and jeans and I am the white balding mid-fifties knifer with glasses. I am the jealous young boyfriend with angry gunman’s hands. To me Iam man, walking home. It is dark and you are scared. You think the dark is mine. Maybe Maybe when I see you walking I think of things I want to do to you in the dark. Let me out of your dark and we’ll see. Iam man and Iam just walking home. Please let me walk home in peace. 62 Show less
She walks past he reads she walks past castin a shadow into t e book he grinds his teeth. There all at once bound in nylon she interrupts his celebration sweating scowling at his cooking his just shaved face (“I can smell it,” he thinks) shefails to understand him even sitting under the 50 watt... Show moreShe walks past he reads she walks past castin a shadow into t e book he grinds his teeth. There all at once bound in nylon she interrupts his celebration sweating scowling at his cooking his just shaved face (“I can smell it,” he thinks) shefails to understand him even sitting under the 50 watt light. She passes and "of course, ” he thinks, “everything alive must always die.” 31 Show less
Table of Contents Literature "Set The Table" by Cathy Dalglish "This Sinner's Bet" by Cami Harris "The Sad Man" by Patricia Noren "Escape" by Lisa Dietz "Mirrors and Bridges" by Chad Pierro "Making Statements" by Marilyn Tavares "Possum" by John Schmit "Arguments Happen in Dr. Leslie Green's... Show moreTable of Contents Literature "Set The Table" by Cathy Dalglish "This Sinner's Bet" by Cami Harris "The Sad Man" by Patricia Noren "Escape" by Lisa Dietz "Mirrors and Bridges" by Chad Pierro "Making Statements" by Marilyn Tavares "Possum" by John Schmit "Arguments Happen in Dr. Leslie Green's Study (Or The Arena) by Douglas Haney "Parting Glances" by Douglas Green "Raining Oil" by Renee DeLong "To Love Lucy" by Linda Peterson "Darkness Defeated: Johannasburg, South Africa" by Luna Veng "Angel May Earth" by India Nicole "Playing Cards at The Shelter" by Sherri Larson "Expatriot" by Lisa Dietz "A Black Musical Case" by John Mitchell "To Becky, Who Feels I Should Write More of Her" by Douglas Green "The Goddess" by Shayna Shaeffer "Myopia" by David LeVasseur "Spring Haiku" by Julie Traft "An Orwellian Tragedy" by Chad Pierro "Man Speaks" by Sherri Larson "The Plum" by Kelly Rudin "The Price of Candles" by Douglas Haney "Blues" by Cathy Dalglish "Hats and Hubcaps" by Renee DeLong "(under the grace of the moon)" by Cami Harris "Founder" by John Schmit "To My Grandmother" by Kelly Rudin 30 32 33 34 36 38 48 50 54 55 56 58 59 60 62 67 68 79 80 81 82 85 Show less
This Sinner's Bet Cami Harris The windows were open today Let higher justice melt My windblown crucifix now faces the wall the plastic and Iesus burn through the the deputy of our sins metal so that it has turned his back to the world scorches our eyes our virgin, virgin eyes Seemingly immune to... Show moreThis Sinner's Bet Cami Harris The windows were open today Let higher justice melt My windblown crucifix now faces the wall the plastic and Iesus burn through the the deputy of our sins metal so that it has turned his back to the world scorches our eyes our virgin, virgin eyes Seemingly immune to our own demoralization ‘ we wait for him to step down off the cross O L0”? Jesus Chm“ you will be avenged What I’d like to know is this: How is he supposed to come down when we’ve welded him to it? Arms cast in bronze or enshrined in plastic Day—glo colors Cheap metals made in Hong Kong slaves unaware of the crime they are forced to commit A mockery of innocence Humility beyond grace only a fool could emerge from such entrapment (as many have tried) Blessed Jesus Ido not wait open—mouthed for my small wonder to be appeased It’s up to us now to save our mortal asses Show less
"No you don’t—take your ratty kid and leave.” This conversation repeated itself several times before he finally gave up and said, "Okay, have it your way.” As he slept, Adrien realized she had not been serious enough about escaping in the past. She needed a plan, she needed to sneak away. Doubts... Show more"No you don’t—take your ratty kid and leave.” This conversation repeated itself several times before he finally gave up and said, "Okay, have it your way.” As he slept, Adrien realized she had not been serious enough about escaping in the past. She needed a plan, she needed to sneak away. Doubts plagued her mind. "What if he can read my mind?” "What if there is nothing to go to?” "What if my family won’t help me?” But after this night, Adrien decided that nothing could be worse than Merle. And even if he went after her, she’d rather be dead than stay with him any lon er. g The next day, Adrien had an appointment with the welfare office to pick up her food stamps. There was no food in the house, so Merle agreed. She felt him watching her suspiciously all morning. Even when he was in the bathroom, he kept the door slightly ajar to watch what she did. As Adrien gathered the papers to bring to the wel- fare agency, she hesitated over Christopher’s pictures, the record of his life for the last two and a half years. She wanted to take them, but found her hand shaking as she noticed Merle watching her out of the corner of his eye. She let the photos drop. Adrien slung Christopher into the backpack "Leave him here,” said Merle. "I have to take him with me to get the stamps. You know how they are. They don’t believe you have a child unlfis they see him.” Adrien hoped that Merle would associated the tremble in her voice with the natural shakiness after so severe a beating. "Let me see what you have then.” Merle jerked the bag from Adrien’s hand, but found only basic I.D., one spare diaper, less than $10 in cash. “Okay,” he said. That was the last time Adrien saw Merle. Except in her nightmares. 21 Show less
Happy birthday to you Ya na ho we ne yo May you have many more Ya na ho we ne yo Ya na hey Ya na ho we ne yo Ya na hey Ya na ho we ne yo He ya na hay ne yo we As the song finished, I asked to speak and the leader nodded. To help myself up, I grabbed the tee—pee pole and again I felt taller, like... Show moreHappy birthday to you Ya na ho we ne yo May you have many more Ya na ho we ne yo Ya na hey Ya na ho we ne yo Ya na hey Ya na ho we ne yo He ya na hay ne yo we As the song finished, I asked to speak and the leader nodded. To help myself up, I grabbed the tee—pee pole and again I felt taller, like someone had helped me up. I smiled at my aunt and spoke. "First, I would like to ask to be excused for speaking in front of my elders.” I waited for the okay from everyone and then continued. "I wanted to speak a few words about my aunt, because she has helped me so much. But I’m not speaking only for me. I know I am just one of the many people she has helped. Angel- Mom is what we call her, because she treats us as her own. She has never turned her back on me. She always has time for me, no matter how trivial the question or how big the problem.” With the lump in my throat swelling and the tears rolling down my checks, I choked out my last statement. "Happy birthday, Angel-Mom, and may you have many more. I’m glad you are a part of my life. I look up to you, I respect you, and I love you.” I sat down again and my aunt put her hand on my shoulder. I was afraid and ashamed to look at her, because I had started crying and should have been happy. I was happy, but I couldn’t stop the tears. I finally looked at my aunt and, to my surprise, she was crying, too! I was shaking, That was the first time Ispoke in front of my elders and the shock took effect. The singing started again, and I calmed down. The ceremony continued throughout the night. I dozed a bit and had a vision of my grandfather. Along side of my grandfather was a woman who I didn’t recognize. They were both smiling. I felt happy and sad at the same moment. The only thing my grandfather said was "everything will be okay.” I awoke and immediately told my aunt about my dream. She said, "If Cho—Ka said everything was okay, then it is.” This vision disturbed me, because my grandfather had passed away long ago. I soon let my distress go, however, because I knew that, when the time was right for me to learn what my vision meant, it would be revealed to me. After the birthday celebration was over, we rested during the five hour drive home. I didn’t want to leave, so I made plans to come back the summer after graduation to live with my aunt and help her around the house. She called me “Holly Hobby,” because when I was younger I used to wear bonnets and dresses like the cartoon charac- 40 Show less
