2026 Spring Summer Sextant

The Sextant Spring/Summer

TheSextantStaff

Names Roles

RyanChang-Wu

SuhasKaniyar

JoshMyers

RyanLi

TristanDolan

WillSandor

TeodoroRivera-Wills

Editor-in-Chief

Editor-in-Chief

StaffEditor

StaffEditor

StaffEditor

StaffEditor

StaffEditor

Editor’sNote

Theysay“April showers bring May flowers,” andIdon’tthinktherecould beabetterfitforBelmontHillrightnow.AsAPseasoniswindingdown,weare swiftlyapproachingtheendofaveryfruitfulyearinmanysenses.Wehaveseen tremendousgrowthassomanypeoplebranchoutintonewfieldsandtry somethingnew,andweattheSextanttrulyappreciateallyourefforts.Asa community,wetendtofocusontheworkandkeepournosestothegrindstone, butastheweatherwarms,Ihopewecanstoptoappreciateallwehave accomplishedthisyear.

Inthisissue,UpperSchoolstudents(andsomebraveseventhgraders)have submittedagreatnumberofentriestoourbrand-newcontest,theNautillus, manyofwhicharerepresentedhere.Theworksinthisissueareverydiverse, rangingfrompoemsaboutlovetopowerfulpoemsonone’sfaith.Wehaveseen muchmorediversityinthisissuethaninpreviouspublications,whichisreally showinghowmuchwearebranchingoutthisyear!

Ourkindfacultyandstaffhavecontinuedtohelpguidestudentstousetheir talentsinwaystheyhadneverthoughtpossible.WewouldliketothankDr.Tift notonlyformentoringusbutalsoforherworkwithherCreativeWriting section,whichhasprovideduswithmanyworksforthispublication.

Wewouldliketothankourschool’sEnglishandArtsdepartmentsfortheir assistanceincreatingthe2026SpringSextant,withextraspecialthankstoDr. Tift,ourfacultyadvisor,andalltheotherteacherswhohaveurgedtheirstudents totrysomethingnewandsubmitwork.Thiswouldnothavebeenpossible withoutyou!

YourEditors-in-Chief, RyanChang-Wu

SuhasKaniyar

WillDays’27

AndrewCotter’26

MarcTylerJarvis’27

JJPena’26(includingCover)

NateBrennan’29

FinnWhitman’29

ArtworksBy:

HankGreene’28

BudomEzeani’26

AriItzkovits’28

SeanPark’28

PanosGianoukos’26

Writing:

ASnowstormFerrisWon’tForget.....................................JacksonBowhers’27.pg.10

Day&Night.................................................................................JackTarbox’27.pg17

Love......................................................................................JacksonBowhers’27.pg18

Driving...............................................................................MatthewWilliams’28.pg19

TheCave..................................................................................HenryBordeau’31.pg21

ThePulse......................................................................................JoshMyers’28.pg23

DirtyO..........................................................................................HughWylie’28.pg27

AFenwayFrank...........................................................................JackTarbox’27.pg30

Excerpts from Checkmate*..................................................TadhgO’Sullivan’29pg31

TheQuestforBoba...................................................................KrishChandar’29pg35

Duplex Vir..................................................................................ThomasEgan’28pg36

TheDreamsofaShipinaBottle..........................................RyanChang-Wu’27pg38

GuiltyCloud........................................................................HarunM.Ibrahim’29pg39

Birds’Rules***.........................................................OwenPopkowski-Smith’27pg40

TheWarZone.............................................................................SammyFlood’26pg42

TheFall...............................................................................Ky-ManiMonteiro’27pg44

AprilFools............................................................................MarcTylerJarvis’27pg49

“Whiplash”:AndrewNeiman’sinnermonologue.....................BabikirSaeed’26pg50

ALovelySundayAfternoon.................................................OwenGoodband’28pg52

US:Fallen/Risen**...................................................................MarcusGriffin’26pg53

TwoPoems.......................................................................................PeterWall’27pg59

SmallTownMinds........................................................................NolanEhler’27pg61

TelevisionAdventures......................................................................WillDays’27pg64

NOTE: *** Signifies the 1 place winner of the Nautilus, ** Signifies the Runner Up, and * Signifies the Honorable Mention. Thank you all for your submissions! st

Interpretation of Cobb's Barn

byEdwardHopper

TyJarvis’27

ASnowstormFerrisWon’tForget

ByJacksonBowhers’27

Istruggletoopenthewindow;it'soldwithcracksandpaintchipsalloverit.On theothersideoftheglassaresnowmountainsreachingthethirdfloorofmyhome.I standbythewindowshivering.Thethermostatreads61degrees.Ican'tbelievemy eyes,theremusthavebeen25feetofsnow.Irememberwatchingthenewsrightbefore thepowerwentoutearlyyesterdaymorning.TheyhadwarnedthepeopleofStowe, Vermont,thatamajorwinterstormwascoming,butIdon'tthinktheyeverexpected thismuchsnow.

IrundownstairstofindmyMom,Dad,anddoginthekitchen.Thelookontheir facesseemslikesomethingiswrong.MyMom'sfaceisinherhands,mydadlooks likehemayhavejustseenaghost,andmydog,well,heisjustlyingontheground nexttohisfavoritetoy.

"Mom,Dad,whydoyoulookliketheworldisending?"Iask.

"Twenty-fivefeetofsnowsoundsgreattome!"Isayexcitedly.

MyMomreplies,"Whoknowswhenallthissnowisgoingtodisappear?"

Dadadds,"Thereisnowayofgettingoutofthehouse,andthestreetsare nonexistent,son."

Ianswer,"WhichmeansIhavenoschoolfortheforeseeablefuture,thesledding hillsarebiggerthanIhaveeverseenbefore,andIhaveunlimitedtimewithmybest friendJett."

Jettismydog,bytheway.

Asanonlychild,there'snotoftenmuchgoingonaroundhere.Especiallynot whenyouliveinahousethatisn'twithin5milesofanythingelse.WhenIsay"nothing else"Imeanthereisnotahouse,store,sidewalk,orlegitanythingwithinthat5mile radius.Sojustlikeanyotherspoiledeleven-year-oldkid,Ibeggedforapetdog.And that'swhatIgot.NowIhaveJett,mybestfriendinthewholewideworld.

Itwasmy10thbirthdaythatwegothim,thedaythat,honestly,changedmylife. Iremembereverymomentofthatfirstdaytogether.Ijumpedoutofbedat7:00a.m.I hadbeenupsince5:00a.m.becauseIwasunabletosleep,knowingitwasmy birthday.TheonlygiftIaskedforwasapetdog.Specifically,agoldenlabradoodle.I randownstairstofindmyparentssittingatthekitchentablewithaboxonthetable. Myname,"FerrisBennett,"iswrittenacrossthetop Ohboy,Iknewwhatwasinside thatthing.No"HiMom,HiDad,"justastraightsprinttothebox.Iquicklyopenedthe top,andsittinginsidewasmysoon-to-bebestfriend.

“JETTTTTTTT!”Iscreamed.

"THANKYOUGUYSSOMUCH,ILOVEHIMALREADY!"Isaid. Myparentswereintearsjustlikeme, "You'rewelcome,kiddo,"myMomrepliedasshewipedthetearsaway. Therestwashistory.

Yes,Iknowit'sonlybeenalittleoverayear ButJettandIhavebecomesoclose eversince.Itellhimeverything,mythoughts,ideasforthefuture,andwhatIwantto eatforlunch.Hetellsmeeverything,too,atleastIthinkthat'swhathe'sdoingwhen hebarks.

Alongwithtellinghimmyeverylittlething,wedoeverythingtogether.Hehas hisownbedinmyroom,withthenameJettembroideredonitinthecolorred.Assoon asthedaystarts,wejumpoutofbedandgetgoing.Weusuallystartwithagood breakfasttobeginourday.MyfavoriteisAppleJackcerealwithmilk,andhisisdog food I'venevertriedit,butJettseemstolikeitalot Afteraquickbathroombreakfor Jett,we'reoff.Wegoonfunadventurestogethereveryday.Thegoodnewsaboutnot havinganythingnearyouisthatthereisalotoflandtoexplore.Thenwereturnhome forlunch,andJettgetssomemoreofthatdogfood.I'mnotquitesurehowheeatsthe samethingeveryday,butwhateverfloatshisboat.Anapconsumesamajorityofour afternoons,andwefollowthatupwithsomedinner.Afterdinnerisvideogametime. JettloveswatchingmeplayFortnite.Whenhegetsbored,Imakesuretoturnona movie.HisfavoriteiseitherAirBud,theoriginal,orTheSecretLifeofPets.Alittle desert,thenbed,sumsupouralmostdailyroutine.

NowyoucanimaginewhyJettandIarebestfriendsandwhythisepic snowstormisgoingtobethebesttimeofmylife.It'snoteven9:00a.m.yet,butI alreadyhavealistofthingsforJettandmetodonowthatwehaveallthissnow. "Jett,comehere,boy,"Iyellout.

Jettcomesrunningover,withhistailwagging.

"I'mnotsurehowmuchwearegoingtogetdonetoday,butherearesomeofmy ideas:1st,wecangosledding.Thisisanobviousoption,butthesearen'tanynormal sleddinghills.It'slikeabunnyhillcomparedtoablackdiamond;thesesnow mountainsarelegit."

"Woof,Woof,"Jettbarks.

Ithinkhelikesthisone Jettlovestosled Wehavethisblueplasticsledthatfits thetwoofus.

Icontinue,"2nd,buildasnowman.Ialreadygotthecarrotsandscarfoutfor whenwewanttobuildourversionofFrostytheSnowman.3rd,andmaybemy favoriteidea,buildanigloo.Thiswouldbeaperfectplaceforyouandmetohangout. 4th,checkoutthewaterfall.It'slikelytobefrozenduetothefreezingcoldweatherand thewinterstormthatrecentlyhitus.Makingitlooklikeafrozenicepalace.Thisisa littletougherbecauseitmeansalotofwalking,butitseemslikeafunadventure 5th, thelastI'llsharebecauseyouprobablydon'twanttohearmelist27ofmyideas,isa snowballfight."

Iusuallywinthese.

Blah,blah,blah,IhavenoideawhatFerrisissayingrightnow.TheonlythingI heardhimsaywas"play",myfavoriteword And"outside,"whichisprobablymy secondfavoriteword,or"food".Everythingelsehesaidwaslikehewasspeakingina differentlanguage.He'stalkingwaytoomuch.TheworstpartisI'mhungry,andhe hasn'tfedmethereallygoodbrownball-shapedfoodIgeteveryday.

"FOODPLEASE,FERRIS!"IyellasIsitnexttothefoodcontainer,hopinghe takesthehint.

Iknowit'sstillearly,butit'sabouttime,Jett,andIstartouradventure.IgiveJett hisfood,andthenIheadupstairstogetdressedforbattlewiththewinterstorm.Islide onmysweatpants,ontopofthemmycamosnowpants,thentwopairsofwarmsocks, along-sleevePatriotssweatshirt,aNorthFaceskijacket,gloveswithhandwarmers,a skimask,tintedgoggles,andaCelticswinterhat.Iamreadytofaceanythingthatgets inmyway.Irushdownstairs,almosttrippingbecauseI'mwalkinglikeapenguinwith alltheseclotheson.ItiemyTimberlandsinthemudroom,asJettwaitspatientlyby thedoor.

Iyell,"Bye,Mom,bye,Dad.Seeyouguyslater!"

BeforeIevengetaresponse,Iamoutthedoor,fasterthantheFlash.

Lessthan10secondslater,Irememberthatthesnowisgoingtobeblockingthe garagedoor.Thisisnolongerawayoutofthehouse.Irunbackinside,throughthe kitchen,

"HiMom,HiDad,"IsayasImakemywayupstairs. "WAIT!"MyMomyells. Istophalfwayupthestairstolisten.

"Son,youhavetobeverysafeoutthere."Mydadsaysinastrictvoice. Followingashortpause,headds,"Thingstendtogobadwhentherearestorms likethese"

MyMomcontinues,"Makesureyoubringyourphone,makesureyoudress warm,andmakesureyoucomebackbeforeitgetstoodark."

Iyellback,"Okay,guys,loveyou!"

"Loveyoutoo,Ferris!"Theybothrespond.

Icontinueheadingupthestairs,butsomethingfeelsabitoff.Ibegintowonder whytheyaresoworried.IalwaysplayoutsidealonewithJett.Whatissodifferent aboutthistime?Theyneverquestionmeorworryaboutmyadventures.Butanyway,I ambackinmybedroom,whereIhopetobeabletoexitthehousethroughtheold creakywindow.Ihearthewindhowlingoutside.Whitefluffysnowisnearlyreaching mywindow;itwillonlybeastepdowntoreachthesnow.

Itakeadeepbreath,slidemygogglesdownovermyeyes,pullupmyskimask, andaskJett,"Areyouready,boy?"

Jettrespondswitha"Woof,Woof!"

He'sready.Ipushopenthewindow,andafreezingcoldwindhitsmeintheface likeaMikeTysonknock-outpunch.Ohboy,Ithinktomyself.

"Woof,Woof,Woof!"Jettbarksagain.

Iamnolongersureifthisisabarkofenjoymentandreadiness.Butitdoesn't matter,wearestillgoingonthissnowyadventure.

Iswingmyrightlegovertheledgeofthewindowcell,thenmyleft.Ipushoff theledge,leapingintothesnow.Jettpouncesthroughthewindow,landingonallfour legsinthesnow.Wehavedoneit,themissionhasbegun.Thesnowisthick,although itlooksfluffy.Iamabletowalkacrossthetop;it'slikewalkingonclouds.Jettseems tobeinheaven,asherunsbackandforthrollinginthesnow.NotonlyhaveInever seenthismuchsnow,neitherhasJett.

Ifeelweirdlyexcitedtoplayinthesnow,ImeanIguessitisthemostsnowI haveeverseenbutitseemsalmosttoogoodtobetrue.There'snowayMotherNature isgivingmeallthissnow,leadingtoallthesegoodthings:unlimitedplayingoutside, noschool,andnoworkformyparents.Butthisthoughtofquestioningandfearinthe backofmymindisn'tgoingtostopmefromhavingfun.

Ireachbackinthewindow,grabmyroyalblueplasticsled,thenslamthewindow shut.Noturningbacknow,Ithinktomyself.Therearesleddinghillseverywhere, sometallerthanmyhouse.AsIridedownthehills,snowandwindshootupintomy face;luckily,Icameprepared.Jett,ontheotherhand,iscoveredinsnowbythetime wereachthebottomofthesnowmound.Hequicklyjumpsoffanddoeshisdogshake, snowflyingeverywhere

JettandIcontinueouradventurethroughthetreacherousterraincausedbythe snowstorm.Snowhasnotyetstoppedfalling,andwindscontinuetopushagainstus, makingthestormfeelevenstronger.Myultimategoalfortodayistoreachthenearby waterfall.Thewaterfallisaplaceweoftenvisitwhengoingontripstogether.During thewarmsummerdays,weliketocoolofffromtheglaringsunbytakingaswimin thelakethatthewaterfallsinto.WhileduringtheFallandSpringit'sagreatplaceto fish,andenjoyanoftenbreathtakingviewastheleavesshowstrongcolorsonthe trees,thesunbeamsoffthewater,andwildlifeexploresthelocalenvironment During thewinter,itismostlyfrozen,withsomewaterstillfallingfromthecliffwheretheend ofthestreamreachesthesideofthemountain.Thelakebeneathiscoveredwithice andsnow;everyonceinawhile,alocalfishermanmaybehereicefishing.Today's viewwillbedifferent,oneIwillhaveneverseenbefore,whoknowswhatitmaylook like,andwhatmysteriesitmightreveal.

AswegetclosertowhatIbelieveisthewaterfall,Ibegintofeelthatfeelingof questioning.Isthisagoodidea?Whatifsomethinggoeswrong?MaybeIamright? MaybeIamcrazy?

"Jett,whatdoyouthink,boy?"Iaskinaquestioningtone.

NoreplyfromJett,justakindoflookthatsays,"You'recrazy,man."Imean, what'stheworstthatcouldhappen?IthinktomyselfasIcontinuetogetcloser.My legsaregettingheavy,theoncelightweightplasticslednowfeelslikeI'mdragginga car,andevenJettthedog,whoseemstonevergettired,iswalkingatamuchslower pace.Thesnowiscontinuingtopileup,reachingnearlymywaistasIamnolonger abletowalkontopofit.Jett'slegsarenolongervisible;heispracticallyhoppinglike abunnyjusttokeepmovingforward.

Iamnowcloseenoughtoseethattheonceflowingstreamthatpoursintothe lakeiscompletelyfrozen.Alongwiththat,thelakeisnolongervisible,andthecliff thatusuallyseemsastallastheEmpireStateBuildingnowhassnowreachinghalfway uptheside.Ialsonoticesomethingnearthebottomofthewaterfall,itseemstobean animal.Well,maybenot,itlookslikeit'swalking.Morelikeahuman.Butwhatwould ahumanbedoingouthereinthemiddleofthesnowstorm?EspeciallysinceIamthe onlypersonwholivesnearhere.Maybeit'sBigfoot…Ok,definitelynotthat,I'mnot thatcrazy.Wait,he'sclimbingthesnowmountainsnearthewaterfall.I'mnotsure wherehethinkshe'sgoing,though.It'snotlikethereisanythingbehindthewaterfall. Helookslikeanolderfigure,notoldoldlikemygrandparents,butmaybeinhis30s. He'stall,notskinnybutnotfat Hecontinuestoclimbuntilsuddenlyhegoesbehind thewaterfall.Ilosesightofhim,buthow?Whatisbehindthewaterfall?Hemust appearshortly.Isitwaitingfromadistance,assnowcontinuestofall.

Timepasses,andpasses,butnothing;heneverreappears.Aftersomethinking,I decidetogetcloser.JettandIwalkstealthilythroughthesnow,watchingthearea wherethismanfirstdisappeared.OnceIreachthebottomofthemountain,wherethis figureclimbednolongerthan15minutesago,Ibeginmyclimb.Slowlybutsafely,I makemywayup,myheartbeatingfastereverystepItake.Jettfollowsbymyside, watchinghissurroundingslikeaguarddog AsIreachthetop,IdiscoversomethingI neverknewwashere.

Acave,dark,rocky,andhidden.Ihadbeencomingtothissamewaterfallfor almostmyentirelife.AndnotoncehadIseenthis.ButIstillhaven'tspottedtheman whoenteredthiscave.It'stoodarktoseeanything;cloudscoverthealreadydarksky astheearlyeveningapproaches.Ineedtostartheadinghome,butIfeelwrongleaving withoutfiguringoutwhothispersonis.

"HELLO,"Iyellout,hopingsomeonewillanswer.

Jaiden Lee, V

WhatIassumetobethemanwhomIrecentlysawanswers,"HiFerris…" Ferris,howdoesheknowmyname?Whoisthisguy?Millionsofthoughtsgo rushingthroughmyhead.ShouldIleave?Isthissomestalker?Ifreeze,it'slikemy bodycan'tmove.Heappearsfromthecave.He'stallandfit,likeIthought.Brown shaggyhair,withastubbybeardandmustache.Hemustbeatleastthirtyyearsold, maybeevenolder.Dressedindirtyjeans,Timberlandsjustlikemine,andaheavy wintercoat.

"Who…whoareyou?"Iaskasmyvoicetremblesandbodyshakes,asIholdJett closetomybody.

Jettgrowlsfiercely,makingsurethismankeepshisdistance.

"Don'tworry,Iknowyou,"heanswersinacalmtone

Afterashortpause,hecontinues,"I'veknownyousinceyouwerebornandhave watchedyougrow,evenfollowedyouonsomeofyouradventureswithJett."

Withverylittleideaofwhattosay,Iask,"What'syourname?Howdoyouknow me?"

Heanswers,"IamHayesBennett,yourbrother."

Day&Night

ByJackTarbox’27

TheSunwakesmeupinthemorning Itsroaringglare,lightingmyroom. Iamdiscontented,mydayshadowedwithgloom.

Ihearbirdschirping.MourningDove. Bringingremindersoflostlove. Eachbladeofgrassistippedwithwaterdroplets. Givingreflection,wheremorningsunrests. Dark,blacksky,beginningitsquietcreep.

Asglowing,silverstarsstareandpeep. Itlooksinfinite,dark,anddeep. Ablankcanvaswhereshadowssleep.

Love

ByJacksonBowhers’27

Onedayyoulovesomething, thenextdayyoudon’t. Onedayit’sallyoucanthinkabout, thenextyoutrytoforget. Yourloveforitcomes, andthenitgoes.

Likethetidesatthebeach, onehouritshigh, 12hourslaterit'slow. Orthechangingoftheseasons, onedaythere’ssnow, thenextdaysunglows. Thismaybetrueofonethinginyourlife, ormaybetwo,three,orfour. Onedayyoumayfindsomething, somethingthatyouloveendlessly Ormaybeyouwon’t…

Driving

ByMatthewWilliams’28

Ablackseaofdarknessloomsoverthehorizon. Thedark,desolatewildernessrestrictshispath, partedhalfwaybyadoubleyellow.

Itseemsthisstretchofconcretegoesonforever.

Threedigitsontheclockstaythesamemostofthetime, withthefourthmutatingshapeoften.

Likeamagnetsuddenlysnappingintoadifferentposition, eventhethirdone,orthesecond,orthefirstone,canalteritsappearance.

Hisspeedisdeterminedbyhismind. However,itseemsthathowfasthetravelsnolongermatters. Whilethetreeswilljump,andjumpquicker, itseemsthisstretchofconcretegoesonforever.

Thereisasenseofpeaceinthisslabofconcrete, inthesecludednatureofthepath,andinthestraightforwardway. Yetitfeelsmysterious.

Aninterconnectedwebofpowerlinesstretchesacross,overtheroad, withitsflowingelectricityignored.

Animalshuntandsurviveintheforestsaroundhim, withtheircommunitiesunnoticed.

Hereandthere,abumpintheroadcomes, Apothole,orfluctuationinroadangle. Thesuspensionnearlyabsorbsitall, andthelittlecracksandsmallgapsbetweenpebblesarerenderedinsignificant.

(continued on next page)

ASlowly,themangetstired,andmoretired,andmoretired, untilhecanbarelykeephimselfawake

Themanhasbeendrivingtoolong,toolong,solong.

Bynow,thegasesfromhisexhaustpipehaveincorporatedthemselvesintotheatmosphere.

Thenumbersonhisdashboardhavejumped,manipulatingthemselvestobecomeunrecognizable, andthetrees,toomanytrees,havepassedbyunappreciated

Themancan’ttellhowlonghehasbeendriving, wherehestarted, orwherehewillendup.

Thisstretchofconcretegoesonforever.

TheCave

ByHenryBordeau’31

SothereIwas,trussedlikeaturkeyaboveablazingfirepit,theflamesamerefoot away.Theropebindingmewasthickandheldstrong,despitemystruggling.Allinall, itwasnotlookinggoodforme.

DidImentionthedragon?

Therewasanenormousdragonsittingnexttothefire,slowlyturningthespittowhich Iwastied Itwasatleast30feettall,withscarletredscalesthatseemedtoglowinthe lightofthefire.

You’reprobablywonderinghowIgotthere.Allowmetoexplain.

Itallstartedwithmeskippingschool.Ihaddecidedenoughwasenough,thatIhad workedhardallyear,andthatitwastimeforabreak.

ItwasabeautifulMaymorning,thekindthatmakesyoulongforsummer.Iwokeup, pretendedtoleaveforschoolasusual,butinsteadwenttothepark.

Noneofmyteacherswouldmissme Theyhardlytookattendance,andIwasthekind ofstudentwhosatinthebackoftheclassroomandhardlytalked.Thequietkid,ifyou will.

Anyway,Iwenttothepark,andjustplayedaroundforalittle.Ireadabook,kickeda ballaround,andtookanapnexttoabigrockinthecenterofthepark.

Noonereallypaidattentiontotherock.Itwasaboutthesizeofmyhouse,and sometimeslittlekidslikedtoclimbonit.Thesidesweren’ttoosteep,anditsortof resembledhalfofabasketballstuckintheground.

IwokeuprightnexttoagiantcrevicethatIwasalmostpositivehadn’tbeenthere before.I,inmyeternalstupidity,triedtofitthroughit.

Itwasjustwideenoughformetosqueezethroughatfirst.Then,justasIwasaboutto turnback,itwidened.Isteppedintoakindofhallway.

Iwasstillinarock,mindyou.Thewallswerejagged,andthefloorwasuneven beneathmyfeet.Butitwasmuchlargerthanthecrack,aboutthirtyfeethighand twentywide.

ThisiswhereImadeadecisiononthestupiditylevelofahorror-movieprotagonist. Ikeptgoing.

Itshouldhavebeendark.Itdidn’toccurtomeatthetime,butitwaslighterthan shouldhavebeenpossible.Therewasasourceoflightcomingfromahead.

Ifollowedittoanevenlargerchamber,withafireplaceinthecenter.Andsittingnear it,tendingthefirewithitsbacktome,wasthedragon.

Igaspedinshock.Thismayhavebeenmyworstdecisionyet,asthedragonspun around.Itriedtoduckoutofsight,butitwastoofast.Itsnatchedmeupinitsclaws.I struggled,tryingtogetloose,butthedragon’sclawsclosedtighterandtighter.I couldn’tbreathe.

ThelastthingIsawwasthedragontakingmeclosertothefire,and,whetherfrom shockorlackofoxygen,Ipassedout.

AndthereIwas,tiedoverthefire.IfiguredthatIwouldbespunhereuntilIwas roastedlikeThanksgivingdinner,thenmadeintothisdragon’slunch.Noonewould realizewhathappenedtome.

Then,anotherdragonsteppedintotheroom.Thisonewasmuchsmaller,barelyten feettall.Itmusthavebeenababy.

Itlookedatmewithgianteyes.Ilookedathimback,fullofdesperation. Welockedeyes.Eachseemingtoreadtheother’smind.Therewasasurprising amountofintelligenceinit,atouchofsympathy.

ThatwaswhenIrealized.Dragonsaren’tbeasts.Thisbabydragonrealizedmy situation Hecared

Thebabydragonwentovertotheotherdragonwhowastendingthefire,probablyhis parent.Thetwohadabriefconversation,mostlygrowlingandgruntingandalotof gesturing,mostlytowardmeandthefire.Aftermuchdebate,thelargerdragon grumbled,thenwavedaclawoverthefire.

Somehow,theflamesinstantlyvanished.Iwassoastonished,Ididn’tevennoticethat mybindingshadalsobeencutuntilgravitykickedin,andItumbledtotheground.

Theadultdragon,lookingveryannoyed,nudgedmetowardthepassagewaywhereI hadcome Thebabylookedatme,andIwavedathimback

Idon’tknowifthedragonsunderstoodthemotion,butitfeltliketherightthingtodo. Iwentbackthroughthehallway,squeezedthroughthecrackintherock,andthereI was.

Backthroughtherock,Iemerged.Mybookandballwerestillthere,exactlyasIleft them.ItookafewdeepbreathsandpinchedmyselftomakesureIwasn’tdreaming.It hurt,butthatwasasmallpricetopay.Iwasalive.

What’sthemoralofthisstory,youask?Don’ttrytofitthroughmysteriouscracksin rocks.Don’tkeepgoingonwardifyoufitthroughtheaforementionedcrack.Andmost ofall,don’tskipschool.

ThePulse ByJoshMyers’28

Thebandsnapstightlyaroundmywrist.Atfirst,thebandonlytightens,thenthe painintensifies,andaburningsensationshocksmyhandasiflightningstruckmy body.Theheatsurgesthroughmywrist,upmyarm,andthroughoutmywholebody.I trytopullthebandoff,butitdoesnothelp.Itneverdoes.Thefamiliarwarningtone eruptsfromthebandinthreeloudbursts,eachonepiercingthroughtheplaza.The bandturnsred,pulsingwitharhythmthatmatchesmyheartbeat Headsturninstantly, andpeoplestepbackasifIcarrysomethingcontagious.Alargecircleformsaround measparentsdragtheirkidsbehindthem,tryingtoshieldthemfromme.Iscanthe crowd,lookingforsomeone,anyonewhocanhelpme.Iseethetownbaker,myclose friend,inthecrowd,andweholdaglancebeforeheturnsawayasthoughI’vealready disappeared.Aboveme,thesoundofsurveillancedronesengulfstheair,searchingfor thedisturbance.Theyglidethroughtheair,emittingasharpmechanicalhum;their camerasscanandsearchthecrowd.Iquicklypullmybandbehindmybacksothe droneswillnotcatchit

Ilookaroundatthenow-silentplaza,withitsdullgraystonesanddearthoftrees andcolor.Thegrayrockslookalmosttoosymmetrical;therearenoweeds,nodirt,no signsoflife.Ihaveneverseenatreeinreallife,butIhaveseentheminthefaded picturesinthebooksIreadasachildbeforethegovernmentdestroyedthemalong withtherestofthe“dangerouslies.”Irememberrunningmyfingersoverthesmooth greendrawings.Mymothertoldmetoforgetthesepictures;shewarnedthatthebook carrieddanger,aluxurywecouldn’taffordasMortars.Thatnight,Iheardthebandfor thefirsttime

Irememberthatnightwell.Atseven,Ilivedinasmalltwo-bedroomapartment withmymom.Asinglepaleyellowlightloomedovermybed,andIrememberthe coldstoneslabsbeneathmyfeet.Ipulledoutasmallgreenbookwithatreeonthe coverfromundermybed.Istartedtoflipthroughthepagesasmyeyesscannedeach illustration,lookingforeverydetail,eachpencilstroke,andeachsmudgeofpaint.The booklookedaged.Iremembermyfathergaveittomebeforehedisappeared.Hesaid thebookcamefromthepastandthatnoonecouldeverforgetit.AsIflippedthrough thepages,Istoppedatalargetree,whichthebookreferredtoasanoaktree.Iranmy fingersacrossthetree,andIimaginedtheroughbrownbarkrubbingagainstmy fingertips.IfeltasifIhadtransportedintothebook.Iclosedmyeyesandbreathed.

WhenIopenedmyeyes,Istoodinameadow,alargeoaktreeloomingbeforeme, thescentofgrassfillingmynostrils.Thesweetandearthyaromaranthroughmy wholebodyasthecalmwindblewagainstmyface.Iwalkeduptothetreeandplaced myhandonthebark.Ifelttherough,dampbarkandranmyfingersthroughitsmany layers;itfascinatedme.Ilookedupattheleaves,andthesunfilteredthroughthe branches,bathingmyfaceinwarmlightthatcreptintoeveryporeandcreviceofmy skin.Iyearnedforthisreality.

“ADRIANHOLT,DROPTHATBOOKIMMEDIATELY.”

Iopenedmyeyes,andIsawmymominthedoorway;shetrembled,outofbreath “Givemethatbookrightnow,”mymomsaidinatoneoffear. Sheyankedthebookoutofmyhand,andassoonasshedid,thebandletouta deafeningshriekaspainsurgedthroughmybody.Mymomyelledandtoldmetoclear mymindandthinkaboutthewall.AsIclearedmymind,Isawtheimagesofthetrees' leavesblowingaway,asiftheyneverexisted.

Laterthatnight,Irememberhearingmymothercrywhilelookingatthepicture book,“Whyaren'tweapartofthePillars?WhydotheykeepustrappedintheMortar class?”Thiswasourreality Butrealityremainscruel.Thecolossalwallloomsjustbeyondthecityplaza,blocking offthelittleskythatremains.Itsshadowloomsovertheplaza,creatingwhatseems likeasecondnight.Atlast,nightfalls.Asthedarknessengulfstheplaza,thesigns attachedtothesurroundingbuildingscometolife.Thebrightluminescenceofthe signsblazesintomyeyesasiftryingtopenetratemybrain.Ireadthelargeredletters, “THEBANDSPROTECT,THEWALLISYOURREFUGE.”Ifeelmyeyesstinging asIstareatthebrightsignsandredletters.Thesirensshockmebackintorealityby theirshriek,emanatingfromapproachingpolicecars Beforetheycangettome,Imust clearmymindandridmyselfofallfacialexpressions.Thestompingoftheboots echoesagainstthecoldstoneslabs.

Thepeopleintheplaza,silentandexpressionless,makewayforthepolice.I calmmybreathingandemptymymind,thinkingaboutthegray,blankwall.Iletitfill mymindsothatthere’snoroomforanythingelse.Mybreathingslows,andmy heartbeatreturnstonormal.Theredglowofthebandflickers,thenreturnstogreen. Thesounddies,andtheplazafallssilent.Ifeelsafe.Irunintothecrowdandpush throughpeople;noonesaysawordasIhide.Thepolicearriveinresponsetothe disturbance.Icanseetheofficers,theirslickblackcoatsreflectingtheblindinglight fromtheboards,theirlargebootspoundingagainstthestoneasiftryingtocrushit.

Theyweardarkblackhelmetsthatcovertheirfaces,andtheirvisorsconcealtheir eyes;theyalmostdon'tlookhuman.Instead,theyappearasshadows,movingina rhythmic,programmedmotion,andtheynearlyseemunreal.Ikeepbreathing,forcing myselftothinkofnothing.Theofficerspauseandpulloutscannersfromtheirbelts. Forabriefmoment,theyseemconfused,almostdazed.Theycan'tfindwherethe soundcamefrom.Mybandmaintainssilence.Everyoneholdstheirbreath.Icanfeel thetensioninthecrowd;it'sthin,fragile,andreadytoshatter.Iscanthecrowdlooking forthepolice.Throughtheblankfaces,Iseefamiliarones,friendsfromschool,shop owners,andagirlfrommyneighborhood

Ithinkhername’sSkye,andsheseemsthesameageasme.Briefly,welockeyes. Shehaslong,darkbrownhairhangingloosedownherback,differentfromtherestof thecitizensintheplaza.Asshemoves,herhairreflectstheglareofthesigns.Istare intoherbrightgreeneyes,astrikingcontrasttothegrayworldaroundus.Shekeeps staringatme,hergazealive,almostdefiant.Sheliftsherhandslightlyandmotionsto meetherinanearbyalley.MybodytremblesasIrealizethedanger:mybandwillgo offifImeether.Iquestionhermotive.Whatifshe'spartofthepoliceandtryingto trickme?Ialreadyfacetroublesincethepolicewillscaneveryone’sbands Mymom constantlywarnsmetocontrolmyimpulses,butinthismoment,Idon’thearher voice.IdecidetofollowSkyeandseeifshecanhelpme.Ipushandmakemyway throughthedeathlysilentcrowdwhenalargemanimmediatelygrabsmyarm.

“Watchwhereyouwalk,”hesaysinagruffvoice.

“I'msorry,sir,Ididnotseeyou.Ireallyneedtogo,”Isayinastutter.

“Wheredoyouthinkyou'regoing?Noonecanleavehereanyway.Someone's bandwentoff,andnowthepolicearesearchingandscanningeveryone.”

“I Ireallyneedtogo;someone'swaitingforme”

Itrytoyankmyarmaway,butthemankeepsafirmgrip.Heappearstostand over6feettall,withshortblackhairandpiercinghazeleyes.Itryagaintoescapefrom hiscrushinggrip,buthesqueezesharder,andIwinceinpain.

“Letgoofmenow,Ineedtogo,”Isayinasternvoice.

“Weallneedtogetscanned.IfIcan'tleave,neitherwillyou.”Ifeelangersurge throughmybody.Ineedtoescapethisworld.

“LETGOOFMERIGHTNOW,”Iyell.

Theman,shocked,releaseshisgripandsignalstothepolice,screamingthathe foundthedisturbance,me.Itrytorun,butsuddenly,thebandshrieks,andIfalltothe groundwithimmensepainshootingupmyarm.Igetdizzyandlightheaded.Ilookup andseethegreen-eyedgirlwaitingnearthealley;herbandflashesred,but immediatelyblinksgreenagain,asifnothinghadhappened.Bandsdon’tglitch.Before Icanfinishmythought,Ilookup,andthepoliceloominfrontofme.Oneofthem thenraisesasmallscannerfromhiscoatpocket,andIcanseetheghostlybluebeam goovertheband.Thebandshrieksagain,“VIOLATIONDETECTED.”Ifreeze;the worldaroundmeseemstostop

Everyonearoundmegasps,thenimmediatelylooksaway.Theydon'twantto sufferthesamepunishmentasme.Theofficerspushbackmybandenoughtoseethe angrypurpleandredbruiseformingonmywrist,confirmingmyviolation.Without warning,theofficersgrabmyarmsandputmeinhandcuffs.Peoplehavestartedto backaway;noonedareslookmeintheeye.Theyyankmetomyfeet,theworld spinningaroundme,andIfeelfaint.Wemovetowardsablackvan,andpeoplemove asideasthepolicedragmethroughthecrowd.HowdidSkye’sbandturngreenso quickly?Ihopeshe'ssafe Iwonderifthepolicesawher Theythrowmeontothecold metallicfloorofthevan,theimpactrattlingmybones.Theputridsmellofoilfillsthe air.Iseethepolicestepinastheworldfades.

“ADRIANHOLT,YOUAREUNDERINVESTIGATIONFORTHE SPECULATIONOFOUTSIDEENVIRONMENTS.”

DirtyO

ByHughWylie’28

Iinhaleddeeply,drawingoutmybreath.47readthecounteronmywristattached tomymask.Icounted10peopleaheadofme,eachtakingtheirtimeonthedispensary machine.40.Iremembermygrandmother'sadvice:inhaleslowly,exhaleslower.I triedtostaycalmbutcouldn’tstayquietinthecrowdedcourtyardsurroundedby abandonedbuildingswithyearsofdisregardshowingthroughthepilesofwaste stackedfivestoriestall

25.Inhale,exhale.

20.Inhale,exhale.

Mythroat,drywiththirst,andmystomach,rumbling,screamedforanyfood scrap.Ourwaterrationsranoutyesterdayat2pmwhenGeorgiacouldn’tcontrolher fitofcoughs.Georgia,myyoungersister,bedriddenfor3weeksnow,makesmehave toworkonlowerOandtakeextrashiftsatthedataminingcentereveryday.Mother doesnothelpeither;her90lbframedoesnothelpinthecompetitiveelbowsout society Sheusedtofightforus Shestoodinthisverylineeverymorning,fightingfor ourrations.Nowhereyesdullandhandsweak,Istandhere,maskhissingwitheach shallowbreath,prayingthecounterdoesn’thitzerobeforeIreachthefront.

10.Inhale,exhale.

AsItookanotherstepforward,lowwhispersrippledthroughtheline.Emerging fromthesmokebehindtheresourcemachines,threepatrolguardsappeared,masks glowingbloodredandAK-6741sslungacrosstheirchestsmenacinglyreferredtoas 67’s.Theirmilitarybootscrunched brokenconcreteandpilesoftrashasoneraisedascannertoapetrifiedmanstanding5 yardsinfrontofme.

“ResourceTheft”thepatrolguardbarked,loudenoughforthewholelinetohear. Themandroppedtohisknees,screamingandshoutingforhelp,andthathehadn’t takenmorethanhisshares.Hismaskglitched;itwouldonlybeminutesbeforehe suffocatedbreathingthedirtyO.Nobodyinlinehelpedhim.Weallknewbetter.

Onepatrolguardgrabbedhimbythecollar.“Youwastewater!?Youwilldie!”the leadersaidashepressedhisthumbprinttothesideofhismask,poweringitoff.The mangaspedforair,breathinginthedirtyO,andcoughingfuriously.Heclawedatit desperatelyastheguardsdraggedhimbehindthemachinesintoadoormarked ‘Restricted’.

Ifroze.Mythroattightenedup,notfromthirstbutinfear.Ifthemachinejudges wrong,mymaskglitches,orIlieaboutanything,myfatewouldendupinthesame placeasthatman's.Numbersonascreendictatemylife.

3.Mymaskstartedflashingred,pointingouttheobviousthatIneededmoreO. Thepersoninfrontofmeseemedtotakeforever.Iclenchedmyfist,tryingtostay calm.2.Thecounterblinkedredagain,slowlyasifmockingme.Mylungsburned Finally,themanmovedaway,holdinghisnewmasklikegold,andIracedtowardsthe machine.Frantically,Iracedtoentermyname,allowedrations,andscannedmy thumbprint Themachinewhirredquietly,thenpaused Toolong Tooquiet

1.“Insufficientcredits,”thescreenblinkedred.

Myheartstopped,flashingattheredletters.Mychestheaved,andIstartedto holdmybreath.Behindme,thelinewatchedimpatiently,andIheardsomeonemutter formetohurryup.IfImovedoutofline,Ifinished.Georgia,finished.

Itookmythumboffthescannerandpretendedtofumblemynonexistent cartridgeandmask.Icrouchedtopickitup,andmyeyewanderedtothesidepanel whereloosewiresdangledinamess.Ihadrepairedenoughdronewiresinmypastto recognizeabypass

Ishieldedthepanelwithmybodyfromthelineandquicklytwistedawire.A spark.Themachinewhirred,andthescreenblinkedgreen.“Dispensed”

Theslotopened,andbreathmasksandcartridgesformyfamilyandmedropped. Mylungsscreamedinagony,lettingmeknowIhadtofindair.Iquicklythrewonthe maskandshovedtherestinmybag.Ihadtogethomesoon.

Noonesaw.Ormaybesomeonedid,butdidnotspeakup.Silencemeantsurvival inthisworld.

Isteppedaway Heartracing LungsfloodedwithcleanO Georgiawillbreathe moreeasilytonight.Butbeneaththisrelief,anewfeelingemerged.Adangerous feeling.Thesystemwasflawed.

Theredflashing“insufficientcredits”stillburnedclearlyinmymind.Myhand stayedclenchedovertheairmasks,hiddenfromtheworld.EachstepItookfelttoo loud.Themachinegaveoutalowhum,thenresumeditsregularloadingscreen, althoughIcould’veswornIsawaredmessagewithmynameonitflicker.

Apatrolguardleanedonefootonthewall,67inhand.Icould’veswornhishead turnedmyway.Mylegsstiffened,andIforcedmyselftolookstraightahead.Ihadto gounnoticed,slipthroughthecracks.

Thestreetsgavemenocomfort.Rustysteeltowersleanedagainsteachother, toweringhigh,blendinginwiththesmog-filledskies.Hologramadsblinkedwiththe company'sslogan“RationToday,SurviveTomorrow”.Above,thefaintwhirofdrones surroundedme,theircamerasglaringdownlikehawks'eyes.Iduckedintoan alleyway,tellingmyselfthedronesweren’tfollowingme,butIcouldn’tshakethe feelingtheyknew.

Everycreakydoorway,movingshadow,andflickeringstreetlightseemedminutes awayfromturningmein.Mymaskbeepedonce,indicatinglowerairquality(LAQ). Thenoiseflusteredme,andIjumped,asifithadshoutedaboutthecrimeIhad committed.Ipulledmyhoodieup.Thecityjudgedme.

Thedoortoourunitcreakedopenonitsrustyhinges.Mothersatcurledinachair inthecorner,eyesfixedonthecrackedtiledfloor.Shedidn’tsayanythingwhenI camein;sherarelydoesanymore.Hereyesflickeduptomymask,thentothebulgein mychest,containinghernewmaskandcartridges.

IslippedpastherintothebackroomwhereGeorgialayonapileofmolding towelsandblankets.HercoughrattledthethinwallsbeforeIentered.Shelooked thinnerthanIhadseenherlast,sweatplasteredherforehead

“Ibroughtsomething”IsaidasIpulledoutthemask,placingitgentlyoverher mouth,andpressingtheonbutton.FreshOfloodedherlungs,andIcouldseeherchest movedeeperandsteadily.Forthefirsttimeindays,hercoughslowed.

Hereyelidsopened,“Owen?”shewhispered.Relieffloodedmybody,chasedby guilt.Ifanyonefoundoutaboutmycrime,GeorgiaandIwouldendupinthesame doorwaywhereguardsdraggedawaythemanscreaming,andmyhandswouldcarry theblame.YetasIwatchedherbreatheeasily,IknewIwouldstealmoretokeepher aliveforlonger

AFenwayFrank

ByJackTarbox’27

Ballparkfood.Ican’tgetenough.Somethingaboutamaninayellowshirtwith“264” labeledonhisback.“Hotdogshere!”Heyells.Myearsperkup,myeyesshoot around.Spotted.Iraisemyhandhighintotheair,hopingthathespotsme.Thelarge metalboxonhisheadlookslikeatreasurechest.Iseethelarge,whitelettering, plasteredontheboxspelling“Kayem”andIknowitstime.Hefinallyspotsmeafter givinganotherfanafrank.Hiswalkoveriscinematic.Stepafterstep,myexcitement growslargerandlarger “Heykid,I’moutofdogs,I’llbebackinthe7thinning”he says.

Forgetit,mydayisruined.

Excerpts from Checkmate (Honorable

ByTadhgO’Sullivan’29

Downcomesthejudge’sgavel.

Mention in the Nautilus Competition)

“Courtinsession.”Amanstandsup,alawyerIbelieve.It'sablur,butImanaged tostaysomewhatselfawareduringthattime.Allofasudden,thelawyermancallsme upasawitness.Ithinkhecalledonceortwice,butittookmeawhiletocometomy senses.Ibreatheinandout,Itakeonestep,thenanother.Ihavesomemoney,butyou wouldn’tthinkitbasedonhowIdress,mytatteredgraysuit,justabittoobigforme I gotitbeforeImovedtothecity.Goddamn,thatwas30yearsago.

“Mr.Henry,pleasetakeaseat,”thejudgesaysinhisBOOMINGvoice.Idoashe says.Thenanotherpersongetsup.

“Mr.TheodoreHenry,thankyouforbeinghere.”

“Noproblem,”Ireplymeekly,notinmyusualtone.Irunaninvestmentbankin NewYork,buttoday,I’madumbassoldman,inalameasscourtroom,inasmallass town,theoneandonlyboringassEugene,Oregon…Great.

“Tellmeaboutyourbrother,”thesecondlawyermansays “OK,”Isay,andatearfallsfrommyeye,nobodysawit…Ihopeso.Butthat’s notasimportantasitusuallyisforme… Mylifeflashesbeforemyeyes.

Mysister,Dorothy,whowasalwaysthemostmotivatedofthebunch,dragged herselftotheshoresofthePacific,onlycarryingacinderblock,andshedescended intothedarkmurkywaters,nevertobeheardfromagain,shewasonlynineyearsold. MymotherwasdevastatedwhenshediscoveredDorothy’scotempty,withafew pillowsstuffedunderherblankettodivertattentionawayfromherabsence.Butmy fathercouldnothavebeenmoredisinterested.

“Eh,”hesaid.“Shewasonlyoneoffive,wehavebackups.”Hecontinuedto chuckleathisastuteobservationforthenexthalfhour,untilhedraggedhimselfoffto theharborforwork.Thatmomentstuckwithme,themostpromisingofallofus… gone…snap…herexistencepracticallyevaporated.Threeofuschildrenwere overcomewithsadness,butforone,theyoungestofthebunch,Liam,Inoticeda changeinhiseyes.Thewayhelookedatmydadchangedafterthatmoment,heused tohavethatinnocentsparkleofalittlesevenyearold,buthislightseemedtogetjust thatlittlebitdimmer.

“Kid,comehereforasecond.”HewouldalwayssaybeforeIleft.“Afewbucks foryourtrouble.Iappreciateit.”WOW!Ithought,thefirsttimeIheardit.Itwasthe firsttimesomeoneletmeknowthatIwasappreciated.“I…Idon’tknowwhattosay, Mr.Doe,thisismoremoneythanI’veeverbeenallowedtosee!”Ireplied.“Iknow.I wasalotlikeyou.Myfatherwasa********,mymotherbarelycared,andIdidn’t haveverymanyfriends.TherewasamanwhowasnamedJohn…HislastnameI can’trecall,buthegavemeafewdollars,andwiththatIgotadeckofcards.My brotherandIgotalotofmileageoutofthose52flimsypiecesofpaper…Hewasmy bestfriend myonlyfriend Iwantyoutogetsomethingforyouandyoursiblingsto enjoy.Youwereneverallowedtohavesomegoodtimes…Loosenyournoosejusta littlebit.”Iwasstunnedbythismonologue…butIknewwhatIwasgoingtobuy.The onlytimeLiamandIwerewalkingthroughdowntown,welookedintoastorewindow andsawachessset.Butwenevercouldbuyit,untilnowthatis.“Thankyousir.”I wasecstatic.“Noneed,andjustcallmeFranklin,dropthesirBS,”heresponded stoically.“HaveagoodeveningMr…HaveagoodeveningFranklin,”IsaidasI walkedbackupthegravelroad,throughtheoldharborgate,andaroundontothehilly roadtowardsdowntown With asmileonmyface Attheintersectionwiththecoast highway,Iusuallyturnlefttowalkhome,butthistimeIturnright,headingto downtownDepoeBay.Ithadstartedraining,justlikethatdaymybrotherandIwere walkingwithoneanother.Andalittlewhilelater,Iseeit.Istepundertheawningof theshopandHEAVEtheheavymetaldooropen.AssoonasIstepinIgethitwitha blastofanostalgicscent.WhyIhavenostalgiaforthatparticularsmell,butitsmells liketheword“cozy.”Iapproachtheclerkandsaytohim“CanIpurchasethechessset inthewindow?”Hewalksinitsdirection,andIwaitexcitedly.

“Thisfella?”hesays,chessboardinhand “Yesplease,”Isay “twentybucks,I canbagitforya,ifyou’reinterested.”Twentydollarswasalot,Ionlyhadtwenty-five inmypocket,butIrememberedwhatoldmanFranklintoldme.“Yes,Iwouldlikeit bagged.Ihandoveraten,andtwofives.Themansmiles,thenplacestheboardintoa smallpaperbag,andslidesitoverthecounter.“Takecare!”Isay.“Andyou,”he replies.Iwaltzedoutofthestore,andbegantherainywalkhome.Iwasn’twalkingat mynormalcadence,Iwasexcited,Iwasquick.Iseethesignthatreads“SWCoast Avenue,”andlookforagapintrafficbeforesprintingacrossthehighway.

“I’mhome!”IyellasIswingopentheflimsywoodenfrontdoor.Igottafixthathinge sometime,thedoorishangingonbyathread.Eitherway,Ireceivenoresponse,as usual.

“LIAM!”Iyell.“What?”Ihear,Ican’tsayhesoundedenthusiastic,butIbeckoned himfromhisplaceontherippedcouch.“Comehere.”HedoesasIrequest.“Whatis it?”heasks.“Well,oldmanFranklinsaidthatIneedtoallowmyselftohavesome goodtimes,anddoyourememberwhenwewerewanderingthroughdowntown,and welookedintoashopwindowandsaw…”“Achessboard.”Hefinishesmysentence. Ihandoverthepaperbag.IthinkheknowswhatI’mgivinghim,butheisstillin disbelief.Hegrapplesthebag,curiously.Then,hereachesinanddrawsfromita beautiful(actuallyprettys*****)chessboard.“I…I…No…Butitcost20dollars…” hesays,stutteringaftereveryword “MoneythatIamhappytospendonus,notbeer” Isay.

Fromthatmomentforward,Liambecamemyabsolutebestfriendintheworld.We wouldspendeverysecondofourfreetimetogether,playingchessonthatonechess board.Wegotprettygoodatit.Iusuallylethimwin.Unlesshewaspissingmeoffthat day,whichwasoneofhisspecialtalents.ButIlovedeverysecondofthetimewe spenttogether.Thegameneverended,butdeepdown,bothofusalwayswonthat game.

...

DearLiam,

It’sbeenawhilesincewetalked.I’msorryaboutthat.Ijustwantedtotalkwithyou abouthowlifeisgoing,nowthatyou’retheonlyboytoroamthehallowedhallsofour flimsyshack.Howiswork,IknowyoustartedtoworkwitholdmanFranklin.Ihope thatisgoingwellforyou.Trustme,thatwillbeimportantwhenyouandmomhavea fallingout,ifithasn’thappenedyet,itwillsoon Onlygiveherhalfofthemoneyyou earn,taketherestandkeepitinasafeplace,youwillneeditwhenyougotocollege. Speakingofcollege,Ihaveenclosedabusticket,andaletterfromtheschool.Thisis yourwayout…ItisanacceptancelettertoOregonState.Takeit,andwhenyou believethetimeisright,takethosebusticketsandrun.ThebusstopisontheCoast Highway.Takethemoneyyou’veearned,andsaveyourself.Iwillprotectyou,and shelteryouateverystepofyourlife.Iwillensureyouarethriving.Iwillmakesure youcanpursueyourdreams,orambitionsofanykind.Ifyoueverhavesomethingto tellme,ifyoueverhaveasecret,itisforeversafewithme.Iloveyou,Liam.

Sincerely,

TheodoreHenry

“Yes,IwanttotalktoLiam…”Itakeadeepbreath.“Liam,growingupyouweremy everything.EverytimeItriedtoescapeDepoeBay,Iwantedtotakeyouwithme,and giveyoualifeworthliving.Ihopedwewouldgrowoldtogether,continuingtocrack openbeersandplaysomechess.ButwhenIgotyourletter,mywindowshattered, cuttingmeasthepiecesfelltotheground.YoudeservedabetterlifethanwhatIwas abletogiveyou,thecardsweweredealtweres*****intheextreme.Iknowwewill neverbethesame,butwhenItriedtocleantheclothbothofuswerecutfrom,I accidentallyrippeditintwo Icleanedmyhalfandyouthrewyoursintothetrash, beforeIhadthechancetosewitbacktogether.Iknowyouwillneverbeableto forgiveme,Ihatethatthisisthefinalmovewemakeonthechessboardthatisourlife, butit’scheckmateLiam,andI’msorrythatit’syourkinggettingcaptured.I’msorry… Ifailedyou.”Icrysodamnhardafterthat.Butwhenthejudge'sgavelcamedown,all Icouldsaywas“Iloveyou.”

TheQuestforBoba ByKrishChandar’29

Inthespringof2019,wetookatriptoseefamilyinTexas,notknowingthatwe wouldn'tbebackforfourmonths.Iwasinthirdgrade,andtheweekbefore,our teachersatusdownandtolduswewouldbegettingoutaweekearlybecauseofthat viruseveryonekepttalkingabout.WehadalreadyplannedtogotoTexastovisit family,butnowIhadanextraweek.Tomynine-year-oldbrain,morefreetimewas somethingworthremembering Iwentonmanyadventuresduringthosefourmonths, butnoneasperilousasourQuestforBoba.BeforegoingtoTexasthatyear,Ihad neverhadboba,andinthefirstweekwewerethere,mycousinsdraggedmeouttotry some,andIwasinstantlyhooked,havingneverbeenexposedtothatmuchcaffeinein suchacolorfulpackage.Oncelockdownbeganandquarantinekickedin,weallstayed athomemostofthetime.Wekidsespeciallyneverwentout.

BothmycousinsandIwerebeggingforbobaeachday,andeventually,asthe lockdownslowlylifted,theadultsgrantedourwish.Aroundthistime,theeldestofus kidswaslearningtodrive,andCOVIDhadthusfarkeptherfromthemilesrequired foradriver'slicense.Shehadbeenbeggingtodrivealmostasmuchasweyoungones hadbeenbeggingforboba.Inthisway,theadultsdecidedtokilltwogermswithone washandmakeusallquietdownonceandforall.Thebobaplacewasonlyfifteen minutesaway,andwithtwoadultsinthecar,wethoughttheircombinedfifty-plus yearsofdrivingexperiencewouldmakeupformycousin'stwohours.Naturally,itdid notgotoplan.

ShemissedsomanyturnsthatsoontheGPSwastellingusthatabobaplaceone hourawaywascloserthantheoneweoriginallydecidedtogoto What'sworse,there wasahighwaybetweenusandourgoal,andmycousinhadneverdrivenononeinher life.Idon'tthinkanyofourjawsunclencheduntilwearrived.Oncewegotthere,we hadourboba,butafterfinishingitandstillhavingforty-fiveminutesleftinthecar,it feltlesslikehappinessandmorelikethecalmbeforetheoutbreak.Asanine-year-old, thatcarridetraumatizedme.Itfeltlikeeveryobstaclewasjumpingontoourpath,and everysemitruckwasanarmoredtankbarrelingtowardus.Atthetime,myonly thoughtwassimple:noboba,nomatterhowgood,isworthdyingfor.

Duplex Vir

ByThomasEgan’28

Latin:

ParvavillainripacelerisTiberisinsideret.Intravilla,simplexvirsedieiparat.Suam anticuamtunicamacadtritamsoleaminduit,tumagruminsuumparvumpartemloci coepitarare.Paxettranquillitasnonpermanentutmoxadolescentia,currens,sub orientisolevenit Adolescentia,sinespiritu,nuntiumcalamitatisnuntiatquaerem publicammoxobtingat.ExercitumRomanuminmontibuscircumcingituracquidest peior,senatusdictatoremnominavitquoexercitumducendusestauxilioeis!Vir suspirat;iampridemrecessitsednuncdenuoconscribitur.Virpacatumfundum proficiscorestetindigestumCampumMartiumadvenit.Exercituconventoacviro partenumerorumhicadMontemAlgidumdiscedit.AequialiumRomanumexercitum obsederunt,sednuncaliusAequoscoepitobsidere.Virfossasacmuroscummilitibus facit.Aequiscircumventa,hostissubiugumvenit.Cumoppugnatiotollat,simplexvir Romamredditetsuaminfinetampotestatemtradit Habuitsexmensespotestatis quorumquindecimdiebusususest.Similempeditemspectavitquodhumillimuserat. Cummilitibusincessitetnonhonoribusrogavit.Hicvir,LuciusQuinctiusCincinnatus, tumvillamambulavit.PostAequemcaiavit,suasbetassolumcupivit!

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English:

AsmallfarmhouserestsonthebankofthefastTiberRiver.Insidethehouse,asimple manprepareshimselffortheday.Hedonshisoldtunicandwornsandals,thenhe beginstoplowthefieldonhissmallpieceofland.Thepeaceandtranquilitydonot lastlong,assoonayouth,running,comesundertherisingsun.Theyouth,without breath,announcesnewsofadisasterwhichmightsoonbefalltheRepublic.ARoman armyissurroundedinthemountainsandwhatisworse,thesenatehasnameda Dictatorwhomustleadanarmyasanaidforthem!Themansighs;heretiredlongago butisnowbeingconscriptedonelasttime.Themandepartshispeacefulfarmand arrivesatthechaoticCampusMartius.Withthearmyassembledandthemanpartof itsranks,itdepartstowardsMountAlgidus.TheAequihavebesiegedoneRoman army,butanothernowbeginstobesiegetheAequi.Themanmakesditchesand fortificationswiththesoldiers.WiththeAequisurrounded,theenemycomesunderthe yoke.Sincethesiegeislifted,thesimplemanreturnstoRomeandyieldshisunlimited power.Hehadsixmonthsofpower,ofwhichheused15days.Helookedlikean infantrymanbecausehewassohumble Hemarchedwiththesoldiersandaskedforno honors.Thisman,LuciusQuinctiusCincinnatus,thenwalkedhome.Afterhebeatthe Aequi,heonlywantedhisownbeets!

TheDreamsofaShipinaBottle

ByRyanChang-Wu’27

Inmyroomrestsashipinabottle, Withitssailsfilledbyairleftstill.

Thesoulofagiant,trappedinitsurn.

Itsgazeholdsmeinacage, Withitskeythrownfaraway.

Ifitcouldthink, Iwonderifitwouldwanttoleave; Tosailthehighseas Withtruewindspushingiton.

Maybeitwouldjustwanttostayhere, Contentwithmestaringatit. Usbothsetadriftinthought Dreaming,unifiedinoursilence.

italmostmakesmewanttodestroyit; Yetit'stheprettiestthingIown. Itsbrokenpieceswouldglitterinsilence, Andperhapsnothingwouldchange.

ButIwouldsitwithit,motionless Onceagainstaringatnothing, Iwouldfinallylosemyselftoremorse, Remorseofdreamsleftunrealized, Andperhapsfinallythinkofmyurn, Lettingdreamsofexplorationfadewiththetide.

Myreflectionshinesonthebottle, Myfaceslightlytwistedinglassescurve …Istareintothoseeyes,andtheylookback. Theirintentionslipsfrommelikeoilfromwater

Thedualitywithinswaysbackandforth, Theconfusionleavesmeseasick.

GuiltyCloud

ByHarunM.Ibrahim’29

Thefloatingcloudsdarkenthesky, Abovehuddledmasses,entitledtobreathefree. Cloudscursinguponthehope, Thatoncedweltliberally.Mistreatedwerethepoor. Misguidedwerethetired. Shameonthepowerfulcloud, Fornohopeleftwhenhopeisalldesired.Responsibilityturnsablindeyewhenfacedwithguilt, Butguiltiswhatthecloudiswith,filled.

Birds’Rules (WINNER of the Nautilus Competition)

ByOwenPopkowski-Smith’27

WhenJaywokeonemorning,hedroppedfromhisnestandglidedtowardthe forestfloorinsearchofbreakfast.Hefoundsevenworms fresh,translucent,writhing inthedampsoil.Oneforhimself,oneforhispartner,Robin,andfiveforthefive chickswaitingabove.Hecarriedthemcarefullyinhisbeakandflewhomethroughthe palemorninglight.

Jayhadbeenrelaxedlately Thechickshadgrownquickly,andsoontheywould leavethenestforthefirsttime.Hehaddreamedofthatdayeversincebecomingan adultbirdhimself:teachinghisyounghowtosurvive.

WhenJaywasachick,hisownparentshadtaughthimthethreerulesofgathering food.

Takeenoughtosurvivetheday;nevermore,becausetoomuchfoodwas dangerous.Itwouldweighabirddown.Itwouldrotbeforethenextmorning.Worstof all,itwouldleavelessfortomorrow.

Everybirdinthetreeknewtherules Ifeveryonefollowedthem,therewouldalways beenough.

RobinbelievedintherulesasdeeplyasJaydid.Sincelayingtheeggs,shehad stayedinthenestwhileJaygatheredfoodalone.Everymorningandeverynight,she whisperedtherulessoftlytothechicksbeforetheyslept.

WhenJayreturnedthatmorning,thechickslookedlargerthanbefore,andonly thendidherealizehowmuchtimehadpassed.

Eachdaytheirgrowthhadbeensoslighthehadn’tnoticedit,butnowtheirwings stretchednearlyacrossthenest Jaylookedatthem,thenatRobin,andfeltafierce certaintysettleinsidehim.

Hewouldprotectthem.Whateverhappened,hewouldprotectthem.

Aweeklater,Robincouldflyagain.Togethertheydescendedtotheforestfloor. Jaygatheredfiveworms.Robingatheredtwo.Fresh,translucent,wrigglingbetween theirbeaks.

Whentheyreturned,thechicksdevouredthewormsinseconds.Thenit happened.Onebyone,thechickssteppedtotheedgeofthenestandleaped.Jay’s heartseizedastheycircledclumsilyabovethetreesbeforetumblingsafelybackinto thenestbesidetheirparents.Thatnight,JayandRobinsleptcurledaroundtheir chicks,certaintheyhadreachedthehappiestmomentoftheirlives,gettingtherest neededfortomorrow’shunt.

Thewormsweregone.

Jaystaredattheemptygroundbelowthetree;nothingmoved. Nowrithingshapesinthedirt.

Noglimmeroftranslucentbodiesbeneaththemud. Robinlandedbesidehiminsilence.

Thechicksfluttereddownmomentslater,eagerfortheirfirstlessoningathering food.

Theyneverreceivedit.

Therewasonlyoneexplanation:Someonehadbrokentherules.Jay’schest tightened.Everybirdknewthem,everybirddependedonthem.

Takeenoughtosurvivetheday. Nevermore.

Thechickschirpedimpatientlybehindhim.WhenJayturned,henoticedthatthey hadalreadyflownbacktowardthenest.Hetriedtolaughoffthefearcrawlingintohis mind.Robinhadflowntowardanotherfieldinsearchofworms,soJayreturnedhome alone.

Thenestwasempty.

Thechicksweregone.

Atfirst,heassumedtheyhadfollowedRobin,thoughthejourneywouldhave beendifficultforbirdssoyoung.

Thenhenoticedthenestitself

Theeggshellsweregone.

JayandRobinhadwoventhebrokenblue-and-whiteshellsintothewallsofthe nestafterthechickshatched.Thefragmentshadmadethenestwarm,familiar,alive. Nowtherewasnothing.

Noblue.

Nowhite.

Notracethatthechickshadeverexisted.

Onlydarkstickstwistedtogetherintotheshapeofahome

Robinreturnedcarryingtwoworms,andwithoutaword,sheplacedonebeside Jayandsettledintothecenterofthenesttorestafterherlongflight.

Jaystaredatherindisbelief. Theirchicksweregone. Everysignofthemhadvanished. AndRobinlaysleepinginthemiddleoftheirabsenceasthoughnothinghad changed.

Jaylookeddownatthewormbesidehim. Hehadfollowedtherules.

Hadn’the?

TheWarZone

BySammyFlood’26

Therearealotofscarythingsinlife:death,cats,andmymomwhenshe’sangry, tonameafew,butnonewillevercomparetomysixthgradescienceteacher,Ms.H. Ms.Hwouldbefarfromanimposingfigureifyousawherintheoutsideworld,she lookedanothersweetoldlady,standingat4feetand5inchesandwearingleopard printglasses,buttheclassroomwasanentirelydifferentstory.Simplyputthe classroomwaslikeawarzoneforMs H Everytimesheenteredaclassroomshehad combatbootslacedhigh,thatnowmadeheranimposing5’5,andsheswappedouther pairofleopardprintglasses,forthemostheavydutyandextremesafetygoggles,that lookedmoreakintoapairofnightvisiongogglesusedbySealTeam6foracovert operation,thanapieceofsafetyequipmentforamiddleschoolscienceclass.

Herreputationprecededher,aspast6thgradersrecountedtheirheroicwarstories asveteransofMs.H’sclassstillstrugglingwithPTSDfromall-nighthomework assignments,dangerouslabswherekidslostlimbs,andimpossiblepopquizzes.Forall incoming6thgraders,therewasadreadfuldaytwoweeksbeforeschoolstartedwhen youfinallygotyourschedule.Everystudentpraystoanyandeverydeitywhile crossingtheirfingers,hopingthattheycouldavoidthedauntingclassofMs.H.Iwas notsolucky.Onthefatefulday,Iopenedanemailwithmyscheduleandwasmetwith thewordsofdoom:Ms.H,6th-gradescience,period1.

Onthefirstdayofclass,welearnedthatnoonewassafefromthewarpathof Ms.Handherscorchedearthstrategyintheclassroom.Istillrememberthefirstday ofclass,asweallfiledintotheclassroomandscurriedtoourassignedseats,fearfulof theincomingattack Irememberhearingherboomingbootsechothroughthehallsas Ms.Henteredclass.Itwasprobablyacoincidence,butthelightsbegantoflickerand dim.Shemarchedintotheclassroom,removedherglasses,anddonnedthegogglesof doom.ForwhatreasonIdon’tknow,werewedoingalabthatday?No.Didwedoa laballyearthatinvolvedanyriskofharmingone'seyes?No.ButMs.Hwastactically preparedforeverysituation.

Shedronedonforhoursaboutherrigorousexpectationsforourclassworkand thenecessityforattentiontodetail,aswellastheneedtothoroughlyreadthroughany paperorassignmenthandedout.Scaredhalftodeath,theclasscontinuouslynoddedin unisonwhileacceptingthetermsandconditionsofoursurrender.

Ourfirstclassended,andleftusquestioningtherumoursoftheendlesshoursof homeworkthatMs.Hewasknownfor.Ourfirsthomeworkassignmentwasmerelyto readoverandhaveaparentsignthesyllabus,andturnitinduringtomorrow'sclass. Unbeknownsttotheclass,Ms.H'sexpectationofreadingthroughallmaterialwas beingbattle-tested.Irememberrunninghome,leavingthesyllabusonthecountertobe signed.ItnevercrossedmymindagainuntilIpulleditoutofthebottomofmy backpack,crumpledinaball,tohandtoMs.H.Theclasslinedupandsolemnlyfiled toherdesktohandoursignedpapersin.Atthesametime,Ms.Hbegantodona disappointedfacialexpressionasweprocessedby Agleefulsmilespreadacrossher faceasthelastkidhandedintheirpaper.Shestackedthepaperbehindherdesk,sat down,andstared.Theunbrokensilentairsentchillsdowneveryone’sspineaswehad donesomethingwrong.Ms.Hwaslovinghermomentinsuspense.Shepickedupthe syllabusandexcitedlypointedtoasectionoffineprintwehadallneglectedtoread.A reportwasassignedandduetodaybeforeclass;itwasworthatestgrade,andnolate workwouldbeaccepted.

TheblooddrainedfrommyfaceasMs.Hpassedaroundpre-gradedpiecesof blankpapermarkedinredwithabigzerorightinthemiddle Wesatthereinshock, butslowlycametooursenses.Indeed,thiswasateachingmoment,andweallgetto redotheassignedworkfortomorrow.Wrong.Ms.Hfeltnoneedformercy.But knowingshecouldn’tgiveeverystudentazerointhefirstweekofschool,she proposedanoptiontoraisetheirgrade.Everystudentnowhadazerointheglass,but everypieceofroomequipmentyoucleanedthatpassedherstandards,oreverypiece ofoldgumyouremovedfromthebottomofadesk,wasonepointback.

IspenteveryrecessperiodforallofSeptemberinthatroom.Chiselingawayold gum,polishingBunsenburners,andremovingstrangegoopfrombeakers,allfora78 onmyfirsttest.

TheFall

ByKy-ManiMonteiro’27

“Wefinallymadeitout,”Rydershoutedastheyescapedprison. Ricoresponded,“Notyet,lookoverthere!”

RicoandRyderwerecompletelysurroundedastheystoodinthemiddleofthe streetacrossfromtheprison.Copswereeverywhere,andalltheycouldseewasthe bright,ironicbluelightsshiningthroughthedark,asthesirensechoedthroughoutthe night Theyhadtoactfastorelseitwould’veallbeenfornothing

“Look,thewoodsareouronlyoption;wehavetomakearunforit,”Ryder whispered.

Theydidn’twait;theymadearunforitasthecopsyelled,“Theretheyare!”

Theydashedtowardsthewoods,gaspingforair,asbranchesclawedattheirarms andfaces.Itwaspitchblack,makingitimpossibletoseeanything,butallthat matteredwasgettingasdeepintothewoodsaspossible.Theyfelttheirfeetpounding againstthecrunchingleaveswhilesirensfadedbehindthem.Theonlythingtheycould hearwastheheavybreathingastheycametoastop,notknowingwhattodonext Rydersaid,“YoooRico,thatwassickdude.Ican’tbelievewegotaway!”

Ricodidn’tanswerrightaway.Hisminddriftedbacktothreemonthsago,backto thenighteverythingwentwrong.Thestadiumlights.Theroaringcrowd.SeniorNight. Ricowasastarfootballplayerwithoffersfromschoolsalloverthecountry.Alabama, Georgia,LSU,Texas,younameit.HisentirelifechangedonhisSeniorNight,when hewashavingarecord-breakinggame,onlyfortheworstimaginabletohappen.He had5touchdowns,andhejumpeduptryingtogethissixth,butheheardacrack.His legsgaveout,andboom!Hishelmetslammedintotheground,poundinghishead,as themonstrouscrowdcametocompletesilence.Hecametofindouthehada concussion,butworse,healsotorehisACL,meaninghewouldbeoutforanentire yearormore.TheFallcrushedhishopeanddreamsofhisfootballcareer.Ricobegan losingallhisscholarshipstothesefootballpowerhouses.Onebyone,thecalls stopped.Thentheoffersquietlydisappeared,whichcausedhimtogointoareallydark place,replayingthemomentofhisinjuryoverandoverinhishead.Theloudcrack hauntedhim,replayinginhismindagainandagain.

Thoughts rambled in his head, “Why did I jump up for that? I should’ve just sat out and gotten ready for college. Why didn’t Coach just bench me? Is this really the end?No,itcan’tbe.Butwhat’snext?WillIeverbethesameRicoPowersagain?”

Rico barely left his room, while his football cleats sat untouched in the corner, collecting dust. He would stare at his phone for hours and hours, hoping it would ring with a coach calling back, but it never did. Every time it buzzed with a random notification,hisheartjumpedforasecondbeforesinkingagain.

That’swhenhisbrotherRydercameintothepicturebecausehewassickofseeing his brother sad all day Ryder was forced to grow up fast after their parents died A drunkdriversmashedintotheircaronerainynight,killingbothoftheminstantly.They died when Rico was 15, and Ryder was 19. Now Rico was 17, and Ryder was 21. WhileRicofocusedonfootball,Ryderspentyearstryingtopaythebillsandkeepfood onthetableforRico.Aregularjobwasn’tcuttingitforRyder,sohedecidedtomakea decision that would change his life forever. He met the wrong people, and hustling turned into the only life he knew. Ryder was a part of a known mob that robbed stores all over the city. One day, Ryder came home with loads of cash in a duffel bag. He burstintoRico’sroom,asRicowaslyingdownwithhisfaceinhispillowwith thelightsoff.Ryderemptiedtheduffelbag,spillingthousandsofdollarsontoRico.

Ricosaid,“Bro,whatiswrongwithyou?I’mtryingtosleep.”

Ryder replied, “That’s all you ever want to do. I already told you, come with me onjustoneofthesehustlesandyouwon’tregretit.”

Rico responded, “Ahustle? You know what, fine. I’ll go with you since I don’t gotnothingbettertodo.”

Rico then went on a few robberies with Ryder and his crew, and honestly started to enjoy it They would move quickly, shouting orders while Rico was the lookout All Rico had to do was stand near the door, scanning the street through the glass, watching cars drive by, hoping none were the cops. Every single robbery ended the same exact way. They would burst through the doors as they jumped into the car. The tires would screech against the pavement, and the engine roared as they sped off while sirens blastedinthedistance.

Enjoy honestly might be the wrong word for Rico. He didn’t enjoy actually robbing the banks because he hated the rush of almost getting caught, and he always feltbadforthepeopleherobbed,buthelovedthemoney.Duringeverysinglerobbery, hefeltadeepsenseofguilttwistinginhisstomach.However,gettingallofthismoney remindedhimofhisglorydaysand what he could’ve had if he had never gotten injured. Because of this, he began to love the rush of these “hustles”, and the deep twist in his stomach began to fade as he got used to being a criminal. He even agreed to go on a massive heist with the mob, where theyplannedonrobbingabank

That turned out to be the night everything truly changed.The day started with all the boring stuff Rico often ignored: the planning. But something was different this time.Ricofoundhimselfstaringattheduffelbagonhisbed,andhetoldhimselfitwas just another job. Just another chance to make extra cash, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. For the first time, he wasn’t thinking about only the money. He was thinking aboutwhatwouldhappeniftheygotcaught.Fastforward,thealarmwasblaring,glass shatteredacrossthefloor,andRyderwasyellingforhimtomove.

“Thiswasn’thowitwassupposedtogo,”Ricosaidwithashakeinhisvoice “Stopwhiningandlet’sgo,wegottamakearunforit!”Rydershouted. RicofollowedRyderandtherestofthecrew,andjustastheymadeitoutthedoor, hundredsofcopssurroundedthem.

“Everyone get down now! Drop the weapons and duffel bags and get on your knees!”Thecopsyelled.

“No.No.No.No.No.Howcouldthisbe?”isallRicowhisperedtohimself. Onebyone,thecopswenttoallofthecriminalsandpulledthemasksoffofeach ofthem EverythingwasnormaluntiltheypulledthemaskoffofRico Everyone’sjaw dropped, and they looked like they had just seen a ghost. All the people in the background started to talk to each other, and Rico even heard a cop say, “Isn’t that Rico Powers, the star football player?” The rest of that day was a blur for Rico, as he spentthewholetimeonthewaytoprisoncrying,asRyderlookedlikehewasplanning something in his mind. Rico just looked at Ryder like he was staring at a stranger insteadofhisownbrother.

Ricocried,“Ican’tbelieveyoudraggedmeintoyourbs.Youruinedmylife.”

Ryder snapped back, “I didn’t do anything.You chose to join this lifestyle. Now YOUhavetodealwiththeconsequences!”

Ricosaid,“Ican’tbelieveyou,dude.Idon’tseeyouasmybrotheranymore.Ever since Mom and Dad died, you haven’t been a big brother to me at all. Football was the onlythingkeepingmeafloat.”

Rico’swordsshookRyder,ashetookadeepswallowandstaredatthefloor.His breathingbecamelouder,andhequicklywipedhisfacewhenatearcamedown,trying to keep up his tough act The rest of the car ride to prison was silent They both just staredoutthecold,metalbars,watchingtheworldmoveonwithoutthem.

Afewmonthspassedinprison,andlifedidn’tgetanybetterforRico.Hestillfelt the deep pit in his stomach thinking about what could’ve been, and it made it much worse when he saw his rival, Michael Jones, commit to LSU, Rico’s dream school. It felt like a punch to the gut, reminding Rico that the life he once dreamed of was now slipping further and further away.As Rico was lying down on the hard, cold mattress, the prison lights buzzed overhead. Across the cell, Ryder sat on the floor, quietly twisting a small piece of metal in the lock Click! Rico heard the door quietly creak open.

Hesatupandsaid,“Ryderwhatdidyoudo?”

Ryder smirked like he had been waiting for this moment forever and pushed the doorwider.“We’reoutofhere!”

Before Rico could even think, Ryder grabbed his arm as tight as a trap and pulled him into the hallway. The buzzing prison lights flickered overhead while their silent footsteps tiptoed against the cold concrete floor. Rico’s chest tightened as he glanced downbothendsofthehallway,nervouslywaitingforaguardtoappearatanymoment They sprinted down the empty corridor with Ryder leading the way like he had done this before.At the end of the hall, Ryder shoved through a rusty side door. It slammed against the wall with a loud bang as they burst into the cold night air.Alarms exploded behind them, and flashlights lit up the yard. Rico’s mind was racing, but he just followedRyder’slead.

“Run!”Rydershouted.

Theyclimbedthefence,droppedtothepavement,andtookoffintothestreet. Rico shook his head, the memory fading as the sound of the wind through the trees pulledhimbacktothepresent.

Ryder’s words replayed, “Yooo Rico, that was sick dude. I can’t believe we got away!”

Herepliedtohiscrazybrother,“Sick?Bro,IthoughtIwasgoingtodie.”

He responded,“Nah,we’reallgoodnow.Let’sjustfigureoutwhat’snext.Ithink we’regoodtobackinthestreet”

“Whateveryousay,”heresponded.

They walked back to the street, and the red and blue lights lit up Rico and Ryder as they stood there in shock. The flashing red and blue lights felt like a spotlight shining on every mistake they had ever made. Rico’s stomach dropped, and his knees started to shake. His heart was pounding through his chest, as his eyes darted from one police car to the other. He finally realized there was nowhere left to run. On the other hand, Ryder sprinted back into the woods as fast as a cheetah. Before Rico could follow him, his future flashed in front of his eyes Did he want to risk it and follow his brother?Ordidhewanttodotherightthing,servehistime,andfixhislife?Ricotried taking a step toward the woods, but his legs wouldn’t move. He looked back at the dark woods where Ryder had disappeared, and that’s when he decided to do the right thing.

He slowly raised his hands towards the officer, as they shouted, “Hands behind your back! Don’t move!” The cold metal cuffs snapped around his wrists as the officers pulled him toward the car. Rico didn’t fight or resist at all. For the first time in averylongtime,thetightknotinhisstomachloosened

As the police car door shut, he looked out the window and whispered to himself, “Maybethisisn’ttheend.”

AprilFools

ByTyJarvis’27

Apriliswhentruecolorsshow.Betweenupcomingexamsandclassesfinishing,a lotofweightisoneveryone'sshoulders.Countinggraduation,wehave20daysleft. Despitetheprospectofsummer,friendshipscanwaver,andrelationshipscanfail. Everyoneisoutsideagain,andyourealizeyoufailedtomaketheprogressoverthe winterthatyouhadexpected.Fourmonthsoftheyeararewasted.“Getup,”yousayto yourselfat6:30am,fightingeveryeffortyourbodyismakingtogetmoresleep Home nolongerfeelslikearefugeinapril,butacage.Inthefallandwinteryourhouse protectedyoufromtheelements,itkeptyoucomfortable.Justafewmonthslaterthe samehousehasbecometheonlybarrierbetweenyouandthefree,warm,outside world.Knowingsummerisaroundthecornerchallengesyourbraintoresisttheinstant gratificationofquittingandtopushthrough.

LookingaroundyouatBelmontHillcanbehardattimes,especiallywhenallyou seeisgreatnessandsuccess.Movingthroughcampus,youstarttomeasureyourself againsteveryoneelse Naturally,comparisoncreepsinwhetheryouwantittoornot Occasionally,itfeelslikeeveryoneelseisahead.Pressurebuildsasexpectationsstack higherandhigherbytheday.

Quietmomentsbecomerare,replacedbyoverthinking.Realitysetsinthattime isn'tslowingdown.Still,somethinginyourefusestoquit.Trying,evenwhenyouare exhausted,becomestherealachievement.Underneaththestress,youaregrowing strongerandstronger.Victoriesmaybesmallandmeaningless,buttheystillcount. Witheachpassingday,yougetclosertotheend.Xenialbondswithothersremindyou thatyouarenotalone Youbegintoseethatnobodyactuallyhasitalltogether Zeroing inonyourownpathbecomestheonlywayforward.

Note: look at the starting letter of each sentence!

“Whiplash”:AndrewNeiman’sinnermonologueashe

grappleswithambitionandconnection: ByBabikirSaeed’26

Sheisbeautiful.Probablythebestthingtoeverhappentome.Buthersweetnessistoo muchtobear alovethatblares.

ThesmuglookonConnoly’sface,hisredcrookedV-neckshirt,annoyingface, horribledoubletime;Ican’tstandit FromthesecondIwalkedthroughtheseShafer doorsIknewthatthesesticks,thesedrums,thisseat,hadtobemine.Iearnedthisseat. IKNOWIearnedthisseat ITWILLBEMINE!NowFletcherwantstobringinthis kid–ishemessingwithme?Whathasheendured?Didheknowwhathappenedduring thatfirstdayIsatuptosubinforCarl?Thethings,thefeelings,thatIwentthroughall overhistempo?Hehurledachairatme triedtoputmeinahospitalforGod'ssake. Thenhehumiliatedme.Slappedme.Calledmeaf*****;slappedmeagain. Humiliation,over,over,andoveragain isthistroublereallyworththepricefor greatness?Tobeoneofthegreats?ThenextBuddyRich?

WhatifIcouldbefree;whatifIcouldbefreefromthehandblisters,bloody drums,gallonsofsweat,andmountainofpressure?TobejustlikeNicole withouta worry.Icouldgotoadecentschool.Hey,IthinkFordhamisactuallydoingsome prettygoodstuffoverthere.Nobloodchurningambitions,oratleastnotquiteyet,and justbeabletoenjoyhercompany.IsupposeIcouldspendmoretimewithmyDad too!Wecouldeatpopcornandmilkduds,justliketheolddays.WhileI’matit,maybe I’llevenseetherestofmyfamily?Wait,no.Absolutelynot.

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So that they can drool over Travis running his little ball into a Division III touchdown? Does he think that he is going to the NFL? Are we being completely serious? Do they know what Shafer is? Do they even know who Fletcher is?; that I am the core in THE BEST MUSIC BAND IN THE COUNTRY? Please I am going to become the next Charlie Parker and we are glorifying a bunch of meatheads smacking each other around? Screw that. I’ll show them. I’ll show them I’ll be the best the last one standing, and I’ll do anything. I don’t need anyone else and neither did Charlie Parker. I’d rather be drunk and filled with heroin at 34 with people talking about me at a dinner table than to be sober and healthy at 90 and have no one remember me at all NowthatIamthinkingofit,Iwon’tbeabletodoanyofthatwithoutFletcher.Family, friends, and girls do not do a thing for me; if I am going to become the best drummer intheworld,IneedFletcher.IfIcan’tputupwithhisrehearsals,cruelpractices,and abuse, what makes me think I have what it takes? To get to where I want to go I have to be obsessed. I have got to want it as bad as I want to breathe. Some call it insanity butatleastIhaveagoal.Nothingcanstandinmyway–notevenNicole.Ineedtotalk toNicole.Wecan’tdothisanymore–Idon’tthinkwecanbetogether.Sheisobviously a girl who has no direction in life and I have a goal that I need to pursue To get to whereIneedtobe,Ineedtobepracticingmore,andpracticingmorewilltakeupmore andmoreofmytime.TimethatIdonothaveforNicole.Iwanttobegreat.

ALovelySundayAfternoon

ByOwenGoodband’28

ItwasabriskSundayafternoon,midOctoberinfactprimefootballseason.Iwas 7,thePatriotsweregood,lifewaseasyandIhadnohomework.Watchingthegames onNFLredzonenexttomyfamilyreallygotmegoingthisparticularday.Iwasin themiddleofmyundefeatedflagfootballseasonandthoughtifIcouldusethemoves fromtheprosIwouldbeunstoppablenextweekendinmygame.SoIdraggedmydad outofthelivingroom,grabbedthefootballandstarteddroppindimes Then mydadgottiredanddidn'twanttoplaywidereceiveranymoreandmademegorun andplayreceiver.Iwassnaggingemonehanded,behindtheback,toetapthewhole shabang.ThenIsaidtomyself,“Thisguy'slightworkIcantakehimdowneasily”. ThenIsuggestedthatwedoa1v1styleduelwherethegoalwastotryandreachthe othersideoftheyardwithoutgettingtackled.

FirstRep,“Downsethut”andIwasoffrushingdownthesidelineandIdecided totryaLamarJacksontypespinmovearoundmydadwhichletsjustsaywasprobably theworstthingIcouldhavedone Ispunstraightintohischestandgotwrappedup andIwasdown,playover,Ihadfailed.

NextplayI’mon“D”Istepupreadytoschoolthisfool.Hesayshikeandhe makesaquickbounceleftthenmakesahardjukerightbutI'mrightwithhimthe wholetimeimclosinginreadytoshowthatloserwho'sboss,buthehitsmewitha meanspinmoveIslipbutIwasabletorecover,Iturnpushingoffthegroundwithmy handexplodingafterhim.IamtrackinghimdownwhenIrealize,“shoothe’salmost intheendzonesoIdecidetomakeaboldchoiceandlayoutforhimfrombehind.In mymindIthoughtIwouldabsolutelymakethisplaynoproblemandmakea sportscentertoptenplay.Idiveforhim,howeverheswervedtotherightavoidingmy dive,sendingmeonafacefirsttrajectoryintoafaceplant,butIsentmyhandsoutasa beaconofhope,justprayingthatmaybeIwouldn’tfaceplantintothegroundandI wouldcatchmyselfandjustlaughitoff.Butthatdidn'thappen.Isentmyhandout, andtherejusthappenedtobeamassiverockburiedinthegroundsomyrighthand reachedoutandasIreachedthefirmrockitwent,“Crack.”Igotupslowlyandstood upintearswatchingmydadcelebrateasmyhandcurrentlylookslikeanuncooked hotdog.ThenmydadturnsaroundandseesitandweheadstraighttotheE.Rtofind outIhaveabrokenwristandIwillnotbeplayingtherestofthefootballseason.

US:Fallen/Risen (Runner-Up in the Nautilus Competition)

ByMarcusGriffin’26

Part1

Mybirthdaywasyesterday, ButIwillnottoast Tomyownaspirations Ofmyfeats,Iwon’tboast.

‘causemybirthdaywasyesterday, AndyetIwashurt, Bothphysicallyinjured Andmentallyinert.

ForI’vebeenbrokenawhile, Fortryingmybest Toberewardingtoothers Whoinmedidinvest.

Nowthoseothersareme, Andmyfriendsandmykin, Whohaveputintheirtime ToensurethatIwin.

ButnowIamsidelined Andunabletostand, Unabletowalkonward Withoutsomebody’shand.

Now,thisisn’taboutsports No,it’smoreaboutlife, Howthejoyofthisworld Isdrownedoutbyitsstrife.

ButI’myetstillencouraged BythewordofmyGod, FortheLordismystrength Nomattertheodds.

JustlikeDavidtheshepherd Exaltedtoking, IfGodstandsbeforeme, Ishallnotfearathing. Iwillstandbeforegiants Witharockandasling; Theslingismyfaith, AndtherockGodwillbring Andtheyshallfallbeforeme, Butnotbymystrength Norbymight,norbypower ButGod’sSpiritbyfaith.

Soyea,thoughIwalk Throughthevalleyofdeath, There’salightinthenight, ForGod’swordismybreath.

Yes,thoughIambroken Andalonecannotstand, MyGodhasthusgiven Hisownhelpinghand.

Andbygraceandbymercy Thataboundwithoutfail, I’llwalkboldlyinfaith, ForwithChristI’llprevail. Andso, Thoughmybirthdaywasyesterday, Tomyself,Iwon’ttoast Towardmyownaspirations, AndmyfeatsIwon’tboast.

ForIwouldn’tbehere WithouttheLordaboveall, AndHisarmieswholiftme WheneverIfall.

Sothankyou,myJesus, Andallthosewhohavejust Givenlovethathasrisenme Upfromthedust

Part2

Intheformertreatise, Ididsoinform Ofthemiracles,I’msure Godisgoingtoperform.

Thoughmyspiritwasshattered Bypainandbystrife, Iwasyetencouraged ByGod’sWordofLife.

ButI’mhereyetagain, Disheartenedanddreary, Withthefloorpulledfromunder, Withnofoundationbeneathme

IfeelmuchlikeJob, Thoughnevertheless, Iamsurelynotperfect Ihavesinned,Iconfess.

ButlikeJob,Idofeel ThatallGodoncegave Mydreamsandaccomplishments Nowsleepintheirgrave.

Mybody’safflicted, Andmysoulisinpain, Formyworktowardmygoals Seemsbeendoneinvain. ButthoughIamdust Andhavelostworldlythings, MytreasureisinHeaven Myvictory,Godbrings. Forit’sHethathathgiven Andtakethaway, Butoncethisisfinished, IknowHe’llyetsay:

“Welldone,belovedchild, MyservantonEarth.”

AndHe’llgivemoreblessings ThaneverI’mworth Yes,weepingendures

Forlong-lastingnights, Butwithmorningcomesjoy Formybattles,Godfights. SoI’llpraiseThee,OLord, Withthebreathofmylips, Thoughthestormskeeponraging Androckingmyship Because,likenedtoJob, WhenGod’sgloryisgiven, Indueseason,Hewill Restoreallthatwasriven.

Part3

Thereoncecameatime

Whenmysoulwasdisheartened, Andmymindwasmadeup

Butthencameaknock Atthedoorofmyheart; ItwastheSpiritofGod Withawordtoimpart.

SoIopenedmyBible, Thenbegantopray. TheSpiritthenmoved Andbegantosay:

“I’mtheGodofthisworld, OfDeath,Hell,andtheGrave; Notathinghasbeengiven ThatIhavenotgave.

AllpowerIhold Inthepalmofmyhand, Thishereistheplace Whereyou,too,shallstand.

AndifIstandbeforethee, AndthoustaywithMe, Whocanbeagainstthee Andclaimvictory?”

IrejoicedwhenIheardthis, Anddidproclaimgladly Toothers,thepromise ThatGodhadthenshownme.

Butthencamethestorms, Andmybowitdidshake, Forthewaterswereroaring, Andmycountenancedidbreak.

AndIknowwhattheysay Whenmyback’sturnedaway Howtheylaughmetoscorn WhileI’mwearyandworn:

“Where’syourGodnow? Youhavesaid,‘He’lldeliver.’ Butnowyouhavelost, Andyourlips,theydoquiver”

Thoughyoumockanddetest, Yet,mysoultoisatrest, ForGod’sWord,Ihaveread, Andhere’swhatitsaid:

“BecauseIwasslain, Androseupfromthegrave, AllpowerinHeaven AndEarthGodhasgave. Sothoughyougothrough, Andafflictionsexceed, Therighteousshallrise, FortheircriesIgiveheed.”

AndwhenIhadheardthis, Myheartburstintwo Withjoy,forI’msure OfwhatGodwilldo.

ForthoughIamlowly, HisWordhassurmised: ThatlikenedtoChrist, Itoo,shallrise.

MeasuredShadows

ByPeterWall‘27

Wesaywedon'tcareaboutwho'saheadorbehind, butwecheckanyway,discreetly,andoften, comparinganythingandanyonetoourselves

Whentheybuildtheirnameslikemassivetowers, weputupandmeasureourshadowsagainstthem, gettingbiggerandsmaller,yetneverfullysatisfied,

Butwhatofallthissurvives?

Notrankings,nottheapplause, notthethoroughlycalculatedconversation. Eventhegreatestlegaciesfade, fadetoamurmur, likesmokedissipatinginthewind.

Still,we’reimmunetotime,orpretendtobe, runningfromatruthbarelytold: nothingwechasewillholdusforever. Soexistfully,andquickly, likeaspark–burningnotlonger,butbrighterinitsmoment.

QuietThoughts

ByPeterWall‘27

Ilieawakeinthedark, thinkingabouttomorrow, andthedayafter, andthedayafter, andevenaboutyearsI'mnotpromised

Questionsfillmyhead, fierceandendless, ofwhoIwillbecome, orifI’llbecome.

Thestarsoutsideofmywindowdon'trespond, theyjuststandandwait. Sleepcomesslowly, somethingIcan'tforce.

Andfinally,Irealize, growingup, isjustlearningtosit, withquestionsthatneverstopcoming.

ByNolanEhler’27 SmallTownMinds

ThefirsttimeIheardthebells,Ipanicked,justlikeeveryoneelse.Ididn'tknow whattheymeantorwheretheywerecomingfrom.Istillremembermeandmyfriend werewalkingdowntheroadwhenthat(nowfamiliar)ringingstartedup.Wefrozein placeatthesound,that'sallwecoulddo.Wehadneverheardsuchacommanding noiseinoursmalltownbefore.Ourreactionwhenweheardthebellsbackthenwas muchdifferentfromhowwewouldeventuallyact Thefirstfewtimesweheardthe bells,wewouldrunhomeinapanic.However,thelowmelodicringingthatoccurs twiceadayispartofaroutine,onethatcanbeexpectedeveryday.Theweekafterthe bellsstartedringing,ourmayorissuedanonlineannouncementdemandingthat everyonestayinsideduringthe(nowscheduled)ringing.Heclaimeditwasasafety precaution,ashe,too,didnotknowwheretheringingwascomingfrom.Thereweren’t manyprotestsfrommost,astheringingonlylastsforabout20minutes.Iwas surprisedbyeveryone’sdocility,asIhavebeenaskingquestionsforthelasttwoyears thatnooneseemstowanttheanswersto EverytimeIaskoneofmyfriends,

“Wherearethesecomingfrom?Whydowehavetogoinside?Doyouthinkthey meansomething?”Everytimethishappens,Iamalwaystoldthesamething: “Whocares,bro?It'sonly20minutes,besides,eventhemayordoesn’tknow,sohow couldwe?”

Itriedmybesttoagreewiththem,butIalwaysfeltacuriosityinthebackofmy mindthatnooneelseseemstohave.LittledidIknowIwouldsoonfindoutwherethe ringingcamefrom.

Septemberwasfinallyhere It’sthetimeoftheyearwhentheleavesaren’tturning theirvibrantcolorsjustyet,buttheraysofsunfeelweaker,alertingeveryonethat summeriscomingtoaclose.Iwaswalkinghomefromschool,downbytheriver,like IsometimesdidwhenIdidn’thavetorushhometohelpcookdinner.Thebellshave beenringingforabouttwoandahalfyearsnow,soIhadnoreactionwhentheystarted up.Butthistimesomethingwasdifferent.Iwasroundingtheusualcornerontheriver, theonewherethecementwalkwayturnstoloosegravel,whenallofasuddenIfeltthe earthshake.Ifeltaslightrumbleinmybones,butitwasn’tsupernoticeable,atleast notliketheearthquakessometimesare.Thefishintheriverstartedjumping,soI decidedtoclimbdownthewallofrockstogovisittheclearwater'sedge. Ididn’tsee anymorerock;infact,therewasacrevicemuchtoobigtobeamistake,butsmall enoughthatitmeantitwassupposedtobehidden.

I had no trouble squeezing through the crevice, and once I did, I found myself looking down a hallway made up of a loose sandy path that led into an abyss of black. Something told me to continue forward, so I did for about five minutes, traversing the low ceiling and sharp walls of uneven rock. Eventually, the ceiling opened, and I stepped out into the light, which I had only been able to see for the last ten steps or so. The ground was more solid, it reminded me of a clean tile, but once I looked up from the ground, I realized I was on a balcony, looking down at hundreds of desks, and on the far wall of the cave looked to be a five-hundred-foot TV. But that wasn't the craziestpart;itwaswhatIsawontheTVthatconcernedme Lookingbackatmefrom the TVs was my entire town. The screen showed hundreds of smaller TVs flipping through different angles. There were traffic angles, bank security cameras, and other views that weren’t out of the ordinary. However, something was off; I realized it was more than just publicly placed cameras. Some of the angles appeared to be coming from inside people's homes and workplaces. There were people talking to their children,somecookingameal,andothersreadingabook.Theyalllookedobliviousto the fact that they were being recorded. A panic started to rise in my chest. I looked around and realized what had been unsettling me ever since I set foot on the balcony Thechairsthatwereatthedesksdownstairswereempty.Therewereabunchofvacant workstations.Whereiseverybody?

Idecidedtowalkdownthestepstotheleft.Thecrispsoundmyshoesmadeonthe glass stairs frightened me. It felt as if the footsteps weren’t my own. I made my way to the rows of desks. On each desk in the top left corner, there was a piece of tape with a last name on it. There were also thick files neatly placed on each desk, and a large computer with more video angles. I noticed that the name on the piece of tape was plural The one that was at this desk read “Andersons” I looked to the next and realizeditwaslinedupsothateachcolumnwasinalphabeticalorder,startingfromthe back seat, the one I was looking at. I walked up and down the columns, growing more and more panicked as I recognized more names. There were the last names of my friends,townspeople,andsomeI’veneverseen.However,onedeskmademybloodgo cold. There on the piece of tape was the last name, Vertuzzi. My last name. My face rushed with heat, and nausea took over my entire body as I looked at the computer and saw different angles of MY home. My kitchen, where my mother and little brother were cooking, and my bedroom, which was a tiny room that just housed my neatly madebedandasmalldeskwheremyclotheswerelaidout.

Icouldn'tcryoutevenifIwantedto.Myvoicewasgone.Ifeltthebells'rumblingstart to slow, and a voice came over the intercom. “Attention!Twenty-minute break is over. Comebacktothecentralworkroom.”

The voice was very familiar. In fact, I was sure I had heard it before, but I had no time to think because just then I started hearing noise across the room and realized peoplewerecomingdownahallwayatthefarend.IsnuckoutthewayIcame,butjust before I went down the balcony, I looked at a door opening on the other side of the room. It seemed like all the people who worked at the desks were coming back to do so,butattheheadofthemallwasMayorWashborne Myjawcouldnothavegoneany lower.That’s whose voice I had just heard. I had no choice but to turn and sneak down the hallway as quickly as I could.As I peeked around the boulder I had come in by, I heard two voices talking. One was low and had a mysterious tone. The other seemed likeavoicethatcarriednorealweighttoitswords.

“Okay, we should head back in, or else the boss will be on us for the rest of the day,”saidthemysteryman.

“Yeah,Iknow,I’malmostdonewithmysmoke.”

“Yeah,finishup,we'vegotahugedaytoday Theoperation’scomingup”Iheard twofeetgrindthesand,which,judgingfromthesmokeintheair,wasthemputtingout their cigarettes. Their footsteps were given away by the beach-like shore, and I had to jump behind a rock in the hallway in order not to be seen. My heart was racing, and I felt the fear on the back of my neck. Once they passed, I snuck out and climbed up the way I had come down. I was on high alert but once I got back to the main street I started running as fast as I could. All the conditioning I had ever done in my life had not prepared me for the mile sprint that ensued. My lungs had no air left in them and burned the entire way However, the adrenaline carried me when my legs felt like they couldn’t. I was getting weird looks from everyone who was starting their days again after their short shelter-in-place. I finally turned the corner onto my street and burst intomyhouse.Mymotherlookedatme,herfacewrinkledandhereyebrowscontorted with concern. I immediately went over to our shelf that overlooked our kitchen. I carefully inspected each picture and its frame until I saw something on the frame of a picture of my brother and me playing in the sprinklers on a hot summer day when we were younger. There was a barely noticeable black dot at the top of the frame. I grabbedthephotoandmademywaytothefrontdoor.

“Whatareyoudoing,honey?Hey!?”mymotherfollowedmetothedoor.

I wound up and threw the picture as far as I could into the road.Then I turned to mymomandbrother.“Weneedtotalk,NOW.”

TelevisionAdventures

ByWillDays’27

It'saFridayandschoolended30minutesago.FinallyIhaveafewminutesfreenooneinmyfamilyisaroundtobugme.Allmybrothereverwantstodoisplayvideo games,mysisterisconstantlyhoundingmetowatchherrideherscooter,andmy parents….don’tgetmestartedonthem…alltheytalkaboutismygrades,my homework,andmycollegeprospects.Iknowtheyloveme,butthey’reallreally drivingmecrazy,soI’mtryingtoavoidspendingmuchtimewiththem Ihaveafew hourstokillbeforeIgotomyfriendLukas'house,soI’msittingquietly,alone,inmy livingroom,watchingprofessionaldartsonTV,rootingformyfavoriteshooter.Idon't knowmuchabouthim,justthathehasacoolwalkout.Heswaggersouttooneofthe mosticonicwalk-outsongs-TitaniumbySia.Justasheisabouttothrowhisfinal groupofdartsandcompletethe9darter,myTVgoesdark.IruntotheTVandbegin fiddlingwiththecordsandconnections.Ijigglethelargestoneandnoticethatthe screenisstartingtogetfuzzy.I’mconfused;ourTVisrelativelynew,sothisshouldn’t behappening,andthenpoof suddenlyI’minthestadiumpreparingtodefendthe dartstitleinfrontofthousandsofpeople.Ilookdownatapairofhandsthataren’t mineandnoticethatsuddenlyIwentfrommy140pound,6'2lanky,skinnybodyto someone6inchesshorterbut80lbsheavier,andIseemtobeabout20yearsolder,too. Thousandsofpeopleareyellingatme,callingmeanameI'veneverheardbefore.I panic…Ihavenoideawhattodo.I’veplayeddartslikeonceinmylifeandI’m definitelynotworld-class.Allofasuddenaloudbuzzergoesoffastheentirestadium erupts,throwinginsultsandscreamingatme.TimeisabouttorunoutasIsteptothe line,realizingthere’snothingtodobutplay Ican’tbackdownnow,Ihave360points andneedexactly141moretowin.TheonlytimeIheldoneofthesemetal,pencil-like dartswasover4monthsago,onChristmasEveatmyuncle'shouse,whenIlosta gametomycousin,Edwin,wholefthiscouchforthefirsttimeinweekstobethere. ButjustasIgripthedarttightly,closemyeyesforaminute,andpreparetothrow… click….MyMomturnstheTVoff,wonderingwhereIwentandwhyIlefttheTVon.

I’mtrappedinsidemyownfamily’sTV,withnowaytotellanyonewhereIam andnowaytoescape.Atfirst,IkindoffeellikemaybethiswillgivemetherestI needfromtheworld.Butafewminutestotallyaloneinthedarkdoesweirdthingstoa guy.Istarttopanicalittle.HowwillanyoneknowI’minhere?It’snotlikeIcantext orcallanyone;myphoneisbackinmylivingroom,stuckbetweentwocouch cushions.Istarttoworryalittle.

Irealizethatmyonlywayoutistohopesomeonecomesalong,turnsontheTV.and findsme.Eventhen,Ithinkmychancesofbeingdiscoveredarekindofnonexistent.I starttowonderifmaybeIwastoohardonmyfamily.IstarttowishIwasbackwith them.Thenpanicreallysetsin,Ifeelmybreathinggrowshallow,andI’meven sweatingalittle.WhatamIgoingtodo?

PrettysoonmylittlebrotherRyanandhisannoyingbestfriend,Matt,come rushingintothelivingroomandstartfiddlingwiththecordsontheTV,settingupthe Xbox.Icanhearthemtalking,butIcan’tseethembecausetheTVscreenisinkyblack likethenightsky,andIknowtheyhavenoideaI’minsideit Iwishtherewassome wayIcouldsignaltothem,butIcan’tthinkofanything.TheboysturnontheXbox anddecidetheyaregoingtoplayForzaHorizon5,anewracinggame.SuddenlyI’m inthedesertwithcactuseseverywhereandIrealizeI’minMexico.IknewIwasin trouble,becausemylittlebrotherhasbeenplayingthisgamenonstopforthepast month.IlookdownandI’mdrivingalightblueMcLaren750Swithajetblackstripe downthesideandhotpinkinterior.Othercarsarepassingmeonbothsides,butI don’tfeelstressedatall.I’mexhilarated.Therearecoursesinthegame,butthat’snot mybrother’sstyle Helikestojumpoffrandomthingswithhiscars,sothat’swhatI’m doing.Idrivethroughhouses,shootofframps,climblittlehills.

ThenMattsaid,“I’mgettingbored,Canwedosomethingdifferent?”

“Notyet,”Ryananswered,hiseyesnarrowing,“Ineedtoclimbthevolcanofirst.” “Notthatagain,”Mattbegged,“Ihateitwhenthelavashootsoutandburns everything.”

“Butthat'sthebestpart,”Ryanyells. Thatreallygavemesomethingtobenervousabout.IwatchRyanclimbthevolcano almosteveryday Iknowwhatcanhappenifhemakesamistake ButIhavenowayto tellhimtostop,nowaytotellhimI’minsidethegame.IhavenoideawhetherI actuallywilldieinreallifeifIdieinthisgame.Ihavenochoicebuttogoalong,and thensuddenlymycariszoomingupthesideofthevolcano.I’mstartingtofeelhot… andterrified….andthenmycarfliesintotheair,tryingtojumpacrosstherimofthe volcanoaslavaswirlsbelowme,orangeandblue,thehottestkindoffire.Asmycar fliesacrossIcanseethepaintmeltingfromthehoodintheheatandthen,suddenly, I’montheotherside,safelyzoomingdowntheothersideofthevolcano,outof danger.IhearRyanswearloudly,disappointedthatnoneofthelavashotout.Instantly, myMomwasintheroom.

“That’senough,Ryan.YouboysaredonewiththeXboxfornow.It’stimefor Matttogohome,”saidMom.

“ButMom,”Ryanprotested,“it’sstillearly.”

“Youhavepracticetonightandhomeworktodo,”saidMom,notbudging. Mattgothisbackpackandsaid,“seeyoutomorrow,man.”

Annoyed,RyangoesupstairstodohishomeworkandMomdisconnectsthe Xbox,hooksuptheTV,andgoestothekitchentomakedinner.Nooneinthefamily knowsthatIamstillstuckinsidetheTV.Asforme,I’mjustgratefultobealiveafter mytripacrossthevolcano

JustwhenIthoughtImighthaveafewminutestorelax,Momcomesintothe livingroomandturnsontheTVagain.She’sgotdinnerintheovenandhasafew minutesfree.ShechangesthechannelandsitsdowntowatcharerunofGrey’s Anatomy,anoldhospitalshowthatsheloves.Mom’salwaystryingtogetmetowatch itwithher,butI’mnotintoitbecausethere’ssomuchbloodandchaoseverywhere.I knowI’mdefinitelynotevergoingtobeadoctor;thatstuffisreallydisgusting.ThenI lookdownandallofasuddenI’minscrubsandrubberglovesandIhavemyhand insidesomeone’schest MyvisionblursandallIcanseeispulsingveinsandblood I havethisoverwhelmingdesiretothrowup,butI’mworriedifIdoI’llkillthepatient. AcidburnsinmythroatandIfeeldizzy.SweatdripsdownthebackofmyneckandI canfeelthedampnessonmyback.Bloodsplurtsupoutofthepatient’schestandhits meinthestomach.I’mamess,butIknowIhavetopullmyselftogetherforthepatient orhewon’tmakeit.

“Doctor,payattention!Thepatientislosingoxygenfast…weneedtointubate himnow!”,shoutsoneoftheotherdoctors.Here’sthething,though,Ineverwentto medicalschoolandIhaveabsolutelynoideahowtointubateanything,muchlessa realpatient.IknowIcan’texperimentonarealperson.IknowI’mgoingtohaveto figureoutawaytogivethejobtosomeoneelse.IdecidethattheonlywayisifI deliberatelycontaminatesomeoftheinstrumentsweneedbyknockingthemontothe floor.Themetaltraythattheyareonclatterstothefloorandtheinstrumentsscatter.

“I’msosorry,”Isay,turningredandrunningoutoftheroom.Ihideinthe bathroom.I’mstartingtoreallyworryaboutwhatishappeningtome.I’mnotadarts playeroraracecardriverorasurgeon;I’mjustaregularkidwithanordinarylife. HowamIgoingtoreturntomyrealself?I’mstartingtomissmyfamily;evenmy annoyinglittlebrother.

IcansmellthedinnermyMomiscookingthroughtheTV.Atimerringsandshe turnsoffGrey’sAnatomyandgoesbacktothekitchen.I’maloneagain,insidethe darkTV.I’msohungryandtired,butnooneevenseemstorealizeI’mgone.Whatif noonewonderswhereIam?Eveniftheydowonder,howwilltheyfindme?WhatifI can’tgetout?Ifeelkindoflikethatdonkeywhoturnsintoarockinthatlittlekids bookIusedtolovewhenIwasinpreschool.IthinkhisnamewasSylvester.Inthe story,Sylvesterthedonkeyseesalion,getsscared,makesawishonamagic,red pebble,andturnsintoarock.Hisparentslookeverywhereforhim,butneverfindhim. Monthslater,hisparentshaveapicniconSylvestertherockandjustwishheiswith them.Thenhemagicallyreappearsandisadonkeyagain.ButSylvester’sjustamade upstory.Thingslikethatdon’thappentorealpeople.MaybeI’mimaginingallofthis? AmIdreaming?Ipinchmyself,andwow…thathurts.That’showIknowI’mnot dreaming.ButhowamIgoingtofindmywaybacktomyreallife?I’mreallystarting tomissmyfamily,eventheannoyingpartsofmylifewiththem.

PrettysoonIhearmyDadcomehomefromworkandmybrotherandsister arguingaboutwho’sturnitistosetthetable.“Where’sJosh?”asksmymom,“I haven’tseenhimallafternoon”Everyoneshrugs Momtextsme,butIcan’tanswer becausemyphoneisbackinthelivingroom,shoveddownbetweenthecouch cushions.“Maybehehasalatepractice,”saysmyDad.WhenIdon’trespond,they assumethat’sthecaseanddecidetoeatwithoutme.Mymouthiswateringinsidethe TV.IwanttocalloutandletthemknowwhereIam,buttheTVisoffandI’minthe dark,aloneagainwithmythoughts.Prettysoon,Icanhearthemcleaningupafter dinnerandputtingeverythingaway.Mysistergoesoutsidetoscooterwithour neighborandmybrotherstartsgettingreadyforpractice,complainingthewholetime.

IhearmyDadwhispertomyMom,“I’lldropRyanoffathispracticeandthen drivebythebaseballpracticefieldtoseeifJoshisthere.”

“Callmeassoonasyoufindhim.I’mstartingtogetworried.Healwaysrespondsto mytexts,”sheanswers.

“Ipromise,”saysmyDad.

Rightaftertheyleave,myMomstartscallingallofmyfriends’Momsaskingif they’veseenme.Noneofthemhave.ThenDadcomesbackwithoutme.Eventhough I’minsidetheTV,Icansensethepanicinthehouse.

“Wherecouldhebe?”Momsays,“Ithinkweneedtogotothepolice.”

“Youmightberight,”saysDad. Suddenly,thehouseisempty.IthinkImightfallasleep.I’mjustsotiredandhungry.I missmyfamily….allofthem…andthat’ssayingalot.Istarttodozeoff,butbeforeI amfullyasleepmyparentsareback.

Momissobbing,“Iknowsomethingiswrong.Whywon’ttheyhelpuslookfor him?”

Dadexplains,“thepolicecan’tlookforhimuntilhe’sbeengonefor24hours. He’snottechnicallymissinguntilthen”

“ButIknowhewouldn’tjustdisappearlikethiswithnocontact,”saysMom.Her faceiswetwithtears.Shelookslikeasmallbirdthathasbeenoutinthepouringrain. Dadgoesbackouttolookforme.MomstayshomeincaseIcomebackonmyown.

“Callmerightawayifyoufindhim,”shesobs. “Iwill,”hepromises. Momsitsdownonthecouch.Icanfeelthetensiondrippingoffherbody.Shecan’tget comfortable.Sheturnsonhershow,butitjustmakesherfeellikemaybeI’mhurtand alonesomewhere SheturnsofftheTVandcallsalloftheareahospitals,askingifI havebeenadmitted.Nonehaveseenme.She’sspiraling.SheturnsontheTVagain andtriesthesportschannel…dartsareon!MyearsperkupinsidetheTV.Itseemsto bethesamematchthatwasonwhenallthisstarted.

Momholdstheremoteandsaysinatremblingvoice,“dartsisJosh’sfavorite.I wishhewasherewithmetowatchit.”Allofasudden,sheisovercomewithsadness andrushesoutoftheroom,sobbingloudly.Meanwhile,Istartfeelingreallyweirdand fuzzyinside,kindoflikeaTVontheblink.Instantly,I’mbackinthelivingroomlike nothingeverhappened Hearingacommotion,Momrushesbackintotheroomandher mouthopensinsurprise.Sheissoshockedthatatfirstshecan’tevenspeak,andthat’s sayingsomethingbecausemyMomusuallytalksalot.Shegrabsme,hugsmehard, anddoesn’tletgoforalongtime.Afterawhile,wecallDadtogether.Soonthewhole familyisinthelivingroom.Everyoneistalkingallatonce.Whentheyquietdown,I explainwhatIthinkhappened.It’shardtobelieve,Iknow,buttheyallwerepartofthe experienceintheirownways,too,sotheyknowI’mtellingthetruth.I’mjustgladto besafelybackathome,eatingdinnerinthekitchenwithmyfamilysurroundingme. Youreallydon’tknowwhatyouwillmissuntilyoudon’thaveitanymore,andforme, itwaseverythinglittlethinginmyordinarylife.