The Chronicle | Fall 1998

CHRONICLE 1998

[table of contents] Sa

I

J What Big

Girls

Are Made Of

Eden

Vaughan

Tim Lewis

Single Yellow Dahlia In the

Jessica

Orchard, After

Jessica E. Proctor

Han est

Rolf Parker

The Narrow Bed Locks

Summer Muzika Mike White

Sex Haiku

Woody Muire

After Leviticus

And

Rolf Parker

Before Deuteronomy For John

Janci Ketner

For Janci

John Joyner

I'm Sliding

Tim Leu

The

Room

The Leaves Are Screaming The Final Cut The Fisherman's Worth Succulent Incognito

Too Late December Suffering

is

Keith Darnell

New

in

in

England

Daylight

Angi Taylor

Mike White Mobley Summer Muzika Jessica Vaughan J

Rolf Parker

Ryon Wells

Proposal

Angi Taylor

agape orange

John Joyner

untitled

ina Es

Rat Race

Scott Hazle

Short Story

Aman

Ode To An

Elderly

Behal

anonymous

Calculus Teacher Chronicle High School Magazine Competition

What Jessica

Big Girls Are Vaughan

Made Of

She saved the first grade family drawn by chubby hands

portrait,

pressing burnt orange crayon

on a paper

We at

plate;

share a laugh

her Olive Oyl figure

towering over

Dad and

"Has anyone ever She really does

told

I.

you

that

you look

like

Cher?"

with her long legs and dark curls,

o

though you'll never catch her and Dad's the one with the

"Your daughter must look

in

spandex

tattoo.

like

your husband."

A tight smile and curt nod please, don't

remind

her.

Round-faced and big-boned,

God

thank

"I just

But

got her height.

I

don't want you to turn out like your cousins."

Mom.

.

.

She writes the check, ignores

my

protests;

Chrissy eats a chunk of cheddar

and

I

get sent to fat classes.

"

den

m

Lewis

walked, slow with alcohol

e

;d stumbled sidewalk-curb

an alley side store.

neon

ith

call girl

above,

d hairy backed bouncer.

;

rked over price. d landed in bar stool seals.

;

:ioke laminated walls.

;d disco lights

on an 8 foot stage.

aitress. beer, tip-again.

usic

loud and unfamiliar,

i/oice

loud and over that:

welcome Adam and Eve!"

lease

bplause died off, :

iip,

a drag,

ley

came

id stripped

they

moved

together.

with ha/el hair.

ore music, 'veat

act

began,

yells, a whistle:

fucked like animals.

stage

ie

and the

and skin smell.

meone ley

;d sex ^

tossing pants,

-

with green snake tattoo,

ie

:

-

black leather.

and g-strings.

:d bra.

iked

and more music.

in

was

their garden.

no forbidden

fruit.

gaped with disbelief,

id the j;y

music stopped.

picked up their leather,

id hurried off.

r

6

o

I Single Yellow Dahlia Jessica E. Proctor

It

was an unusually warm spring

season, of quietly

new

life, filled

the

day.

As

air.

the

The sights and sounds oft young man of seventeen s<

on the church pew, he could catch a glimpse of the churchyc

through a baseball-sized hole

in a

nearby stained glass window. He

spied butterflies and baby birds dancing through the cloudless sky.

The whole world seemed

to

be alive and continuing on outside of

tiny country church, but inside

young man absently

tr

something else was occurring. The

listened to a pastor read a eulogy. Inside this

church, the congregation was mourning the death of this young mar'

mother. Inside this church, the dark cloud of death cast a consumin

shadow over

the

newness of

spring.

and incredible disbelief, the young man attempted to use his thoughts to drown out the various sounds of mourning echoing through the church. It was too unbearSitting there in a state of confusion

ably cruel for him,

now

orphaned, to think about his mother's

seconds on the emergency room operating ening for him to

God

sit in

table.

It

was too

God's house dwelling on how unjust he

was, prematurely taking both parents from him. Having

father to prostate cancer

when he was

mother from a head-on collision tree just blocks

from

the deputy sheriff

their

five years old,

in her late-model

home, were too much

on the scene kept ringing

dying''

disheart'

and now

thoujt lost hk

his

sedan with an

to bear.

in his ear:

oa'*

The words

"Apparent

cause of accident: brake failure."

young man searched memory he held of his mother. TI corners of his mouth slowly turned up when he thought of a pleasantry from his childhood. He thought of the flower, a single yellow dahlia, his mother wore in her long, wavy chestnut brown locks. Tl young man cherished this particular memory more than others because it also involved his father, a man he had few vivid memories of. When his father grew gravely ill from his cancer, when the youi Rather than dwell on

deep

in his

all this

sadness, the

thoughts for a special

l

-

nn was just Iwer in her

a boy of four years, his mother began wearing the

This was an attempt to brighten the dying man's

hair.

At the time, the young boy did not understand the

Mrits.

lice of the flower. However, years Jks about to

I On

a mild

go out on

his first date, his

sat

on the

signifi-

moments before he

mother explained

October evening, two years prior

and son

l)ther

later, just

it

to him.

to the present, the

front porch steps talking about first loves,

woman recalled her relationship with her late husband. The Lung man learned that nearly twenty years prior to this conversaie

tn. in the

warmth of

a late July sunset, his father proposed to his

Âťther on the very same steps they were

His father knelt

sitting on.

â&#x20AC;˘Mwn on one knee, held out a single yellow dahlia, and blurted "weetie. will you spend eternity with

lice the flower

Iks of

hair

in. his

entwined

mother

me?" Not having

stem between some

slid the dahlia's

and tackled him

in a braid,

out,

a lapel to

in a

bear hug,

The couple never had an engageAnt ring, just a single yellow dahlia. Every two days, right up to JL day they actually walked down the aisle of the same tiny country Mirch the young man was sitting in at present, his father brought his fcviously accepting his proposal.

ncee

new yellow dahlia to replace the previous one before it He maintained that as long as that single yellow dahlia led, and was worn in the young woman's hair for God and every a

|jld die.

Knowing

would

so

c j else to sec.

I

their

undying love for each

m, the woman began wearing ine t

it

in

after he

know

that she

would

passed on. She would always have that single

\ low dahlia, therefore she

Is contemplated rther wearing

had between

her hair again to offer him

reassurance. She wanted her husband to

okay

other.

the significance this single yellow dahlia

this

f ding his lather

would always have

flower

meals

in

her hair.

in the hospital

The young mind of his

his love.

the various images he had in his

The image of her

patiently

bed they had moved into the

luse drifted into his mind. This image brought a reality with fcung

T

man could now

relate to.

He

finally

it

the

understood the undying

6

J love his mother had for his father, and the desperation she must ha\ first love slowly wither away into nothingHe had discovered a new empathy for his mother. Suddenly, strange as it may sound, like his mother had had with his father, he

while watching her

felt

ness.

wished he was afforded the opportunity

to take care of her

and

offe

same reassurance that he, too, would be okay once she passed.

Instead, she was ripped from him, leaving him unsure of his future and leaving her nothing more than a memory, much like that of the

that

single yellow dahlia.

Slowly

his attention drifted

activities of the church.

from

his thoughts

Before the young

realize his actions, he, nearly

and back

man had

to the

a chance to

mesmerized, shuffled up to his

mother's open casket and propped himself up against the side of

it.

Then, from an assorted flower arrangement within arm's reach oft! casket, he plucked a single yellow dahlia and carefully slid

it

into h

mother's lightly graying hair.

He

paid careful attention to slide

her ear, where he remembered seeing her wear years ago. Peering

down

at the lifeless

it

woman who

world since his father passed away twelve years

man managed

all

a faint smirk. Before turning to

it

just

those

above

many

had been

his

young walk back to the pew prior, the

he clutched the woman's dainty and frigid hand. In a quiet voice,

young man ready for Papa in

quiet only he and his mother could hear his words, the told her, eternity.

"There you go Mama.

I

love you. Always."

Now

you

are

s

)

J the

i

Orchard, After Harvest

blf Parker

Hng entwined on

a pile of apple leaves with

you

the hill in full moonlight, a fragile hint of

ci

^let on the snow, and blues, hues of an ff

er present sun,

shadows, on bare trees

Micate moonlight failed to

at

midnight.

warm

nr cold noses and fingers but tch of us

was happy

to

climb and

jde under the stars, like children in winter.

fflght

lover

me

c

6

Iting 1

unk

ilove t:h time

lank jfc

warmth of you rose

Help me with my ijneed

my

learned

how

^ lat

I

t

fear,

to

eJings. and to

emotion.

I

itli

a chuckle.

hands.**

kissed you.

know, was how very

you also were

and

after

know

yet couldn't

Insitive

my

easily the cold air affected you,

body shivered even didn't

with a laugh.

mittens", you said w

fingers for this, not just

s all

ÂŁ

me

to greet

how your

The Narrow Bed Summer Muzika I

want

to

go

to that place

Where the dish towel hangs The stove light stays on and The white walls speak of simplicity I want to be where Fenway Park is a daydream

And jazz The

is

Afternoon I

a venture

toilet seat is

want

down and

never

through the blinds

light filters

to sleep in the

Close to him, the one

narrow bed love,

I

Alternately sweating and shivering

o

Because the

air conditioner's

Too much or we

Made I

want

Cause It's

just

love. to get

back there

this place is not

my

my home

terminal for change,

for growth, for maturity,

for everything

He I

is

my

want

to

I

need

to

do on

my

own.

home.

go to him as no I'm not perfect but

Perfection; If

I

care and

Defeat the apathy

Then

am

I

admirable and he

Will be proud of me.

I

want

to sleep in his bed,

His savior-love goddess

Who

is

wholesome

And deep And warm.

1

ocks ike

White

weather-worn door anding

still

in

cool baby blueness

:eling paint to the floor silent self-destruction.

jx

o

Haiku

oodv

Mu ire nipples

in

tongue swirls

moonlight like a

galaxy

painting red mountains

1

AFTER LEVITICUS AND BEFORE DEUTERON011 Rolf Parker This town has 12 bars and 1

paperback bookstore

and more than 20,000 students.

Doesn't that strike you as odd?

Does each student take and wait

till it's

a

number

his or her turn to

why the Newsroom German like orderliness

browse a book?

never

full?

Is that

is

A

preventing stampedes and chaos

bookstore?

at the

Reading the score card

we

all

know and

in the big concrete

stadium

love

is not the same as reading Elizabeth Kubler-Ross.

The man with the iguana who used to work at the

coffee shop

(one of two, count 'em) said

it

best:

"This town ruins everything"

The Black

Rat, the local head shop

("Those carved pipes are for tobacco only") will sell

you

a

hookah and a black

light poster

of

Bob

looking stoned as an old testament adulterer, as fried as

KFC

but will call the cops like

de ganja, ya

Does

that

at that

man

if

they think you smell

come de

police

mon, take

with the iguana, the one

Mexican

restaurant with the

that place that failed in

dat

who

good

bum

later

beer,

about a year, does he

still

live in this state?

Or

did he vanish, like those

two other bookstores

away.

worked

?

used to struggle here, but withered and died,

tit 1

e the fig tree that

1

e a brain

offended Jesus.

damaged man

in a

coma,

Mose feeding tube has been removed.

Oing once, bye. bye. ging twice, lights out.

§ne bankrupt, closing sale

toks half price but no one fry're at the bar, again

is

buying

and again and again, stepping over

vomit of Christian freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors

t'

forms puddle-lakes of half digested

lit

fire

on the sidewalk.

e bar men cause the Great Deluge to come out of a garden hose prifying the land with a flood of tap water it after forty

forty

ÂŁ.1

streets

fc;

c

still

smell like Lazarus did

the third day.

you

fin

V

tell

I've

been here too long

were not meant for each other.

1 y c

minutes

minutes more

I

hi

me a book, if you can find one me a snob send me the fuck home

o

I For John Janci Ketner deep pre-orgasmic

in the

stillness

of a rare waking thought revelation startles me:

space

is

immaterial

and time does not exist as the impulses in

my

brain approach the speed of light

in a

screaming asymptotic struggle,

(my

friend Einstein

was

right because)

time slows to a fraction of

and

my

usual crawl

its

brain perfects

each neuron swelling i

am

eternal, galaxies

swim

itself,

to the

my

in

dimension of a supernova

eyes and

fly

from

my

lips.

.

until .

and eating the space-time continuum for breakfast, i

perhaps slurp

for i

God

feel

my

milky way a

when and

the

my

men

too loudly,

hands

and

me in cover my eyes

itch to

like a child

welcoming not

i

touch

hurry

my

lust

and contempt

sweet and forbidden places

-

step

their appraisal but the familiar

spin of the earth on

glow of

dress

gaze with a prickly combination of

or perhaps to

my

bit

Someone) has certainly noticed me: eyes upon me, and the associated guilt (the way I feel on the street in my short (or

its

questionable axis, the pseudo-perpetual

the sun, the trembling of the stars) as

neural pathways

infuse

them with

kinetic grace until they spin

dervish-style

around

my

delusions of grandeur

:

br Janci t

hn Joyner

\o galaxies collided last li a strange knowledge E

night,

liver

upon

Existed retraction of light reflecting

t

pond

me

t:ame too dear to i\

was amazing

Is

your asymptotic struggle

evou told j

me

about star gazing

eyes glazing over

t

under

l\

Eioment named wonder

ÂŁ

dismember.

1

ij'ou

can.

concentric circles of

t

my

eyes

t nebulae

web of nerves

1 i

spacial shallow

1

C

ing shallow but

s

mad

with loose sparks

noontime joy, Ik deep enough and you Id

a

simming

)

i

in stars

know about

it

i

the theory of relativity

i

past times pulsing

1 languidly fc:ry

will

boj

in the

druidh

beginning.

atom

piting to draw a conclusion

i

c

1

the first passion )ur

young

scientist friend

o

i I'm Sliding Tim Lewis Not

like life

-

or air winding out of lungs not

much

like color splash

on canvas,

or that last drip of ice cream

on a sunburst July noon.

I crossed silent and slow, as

deep purple fading black

or a

Sunday morning;

a whisper in a canyon,

an ember in a jar.

Forget light and playground sand.

O

Not a splash

in the

waves,

not a needle in the hay.

Think more of Lazarus,

who

died twice,

of a grandfather,

and your

own

death.

"I

r

he

Room

lith Darnell

"Sean, would you "Sure.

i

I'll

lagraph

come

be there

help me." She asked,

in just a

second," Sean replied. "I've just gol

to finish this

first."

mean

"I didn't

that

needed the help

I

She snapped,

later."

"I

need the help

Iwr Sean took a deep breath, looked up "I don't f tires.

(//(' //

i

I'm

lew win

I

xou don't want

jom^

to

do

it.

to

anyway!

at

the patterned ceiling,

spend the extra money on these

Mom

always said you were

<

light

heap.

I

don't

didn't listen to her!"

and then drudged into the living room.

"I'm sorry, honey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. t

I

need you

just

to sign this

check for

that coat

I

looked

at

other day."

"Where

are your checks'"

"Why should

I

need a job

/list

y just give me some money "I

forgot to order sonic more.

Sean accepted the pen thrust Oiis

to %et

m\ own

Can't you in his lace,

h\mer\ check. He looked back up

Thanks.

<

hecking account? U In can't

every week'" |ust

sign the check?"

and signed

at his

his

name

be back alter you've ahead} gone to bed.

I'll

to the

bottom

wife and handed Her back his

Don't wait

upon

"

n

Sean nodded his head

in

understanding, and stood watching alter Her as She

g a coat from the closet. '

\"0f course

Use

I

need another

coat.

U

In don't

you

just quit

asking why

I

need

tilings'.'"

and headed out to the ear.

She was gone. Sean looked at his watch. Two o'clock in the afterWhere was She going to be lor the next ten hours'.' What was he going

Aftei

Bin.

tdo

until then.'

BMaybe

he could get some more writing finished.

He walked hack This It

|li.

was Sean's

was decorated

A

and

into his study,

sat at his large

oak desk.

retreat.

like a prestigious college professor's office;

large, leather chair rested

ÂŤ. perched on top ol the table.

I

Sean liked the

behind his desk, and a green, glass desk lamp here were hundreds of books looking out

lln the shelves along the walls, and a Free-standing suit of armor, wielding a

T

I

large ax, protected

all

was

the stories. There

a fireplace

when he

usually found himself prodding the embers

on another

and

wall,

Sel

couldn't think of anything

i

write.

There were a couple of impressionistic paintings of inspiring landscapes hanging on either side of the fireplace, and one large painting behind lone, free eagle circling

overlooked a small

hill,

stood an old, lanky oak

his

desk

above the mountains. There was only one window, blanketed with an open

field, in the

middle of which

Besides the important objects

in his study,

Sean also kept a computer on

his the;

on top of a high mountain, back droppc

dating, and standing, laughing

still

I

tree.

desk for his writing, and a small picture of himself and his wife taken when

were

o|

but;

only by the sky.

Sean

down

sat softly

"/ love you, too!

in his chair,

and focused on the

Oh. yes! You know

picture.

marry you! Oh. Sean.

I'll

I

love you so

much!

"It'll

o

be great; we'll be able to hike

like this

whenever we want

to.

be able to kiss each other each morning when we wake up! Oh. Sean.

and I

we'll

can

hardly wait!"

Sean had loved Her more than anything

that afternoon

passing forest ranger take their picture. In fact, he anything. At times he

"Sean,

never talk

it's

to

felt as

again.

"Oh, come here, poor thing.

work as much as it'll

I do,

you never

and

It'll

talk to

your mother again, or you

life

being any

better.

be okay, dear. Someone soon will love yow

will publish

be okay. Conic here and

He had made

a

You make the choice."

but at other times he couldn't imagine

now.

when they had

loved Her more than

though She demanded too much out of him,

that simple. Either

me

still

let

one of your books,

me

I just

know

it.

There

hold you."

She was the right one for him. and h, making their life together a success.

She was his first, true love. ..the first girl he actually kissed. They had a few problems in the beginning, but Sean had just assumed those were normal in a had devoted

all

the decision long

of his

ago

and love

trust

that

to

relationship.

He still He had

didn't

know any

lost a lot

better.

of friends because he refused to listen to their "wisdom" Ht

believed they were jealous because he had found a

and they were

still

hanging out

at

So he abandoned them, and dedicated himself

And he was

still

confident that he had

They had been married

woman

that

was

right for hin

the mall.

made

for five years, and

it

to Her.

the right decision.

had been anything but easy.

of his friends had gotten married, eventually, and they claimed to be happy

Mo

them

*ienever he passed

However, Sean suspected they were

in public.

h ing as tough a time with the institution as he was. and were just too cowa ly to

admit

it.

He continued

But Sean really thought he was happy. n get published,

S'

and She continued

hope

to

that

he would

encourage him.

to

She was very gentle when Sean approached Her with a problem, and he a hough he had found a true soul mate in Her. Their love

Of course,

at had been on their honeymoon.

my needed b ausc ithut

to

the hikes,

life

was

which Sean desper-

remain sane, had dwindled to once a year. But that was okay

between grading papers and making lesson plans, he wrote a

in

being

woods and

in the

w

living

he was currently working on a short piece for an outdoors magazine

In fact,

He had always been able to get these little articles published, was was concerned about. But this story needed to be mailed by the nexl

b>ks he .

lot

Nature.

ith

fclranada.

d

felt

just as alive

it

unnen

so he decided to turn Ins attention back to the for several hours as the sun

He wrote

dropped

to

ing, blinking cursor.

throw

its

warmth through

night's a\ ax window. He often stopped and watched the shadow of the knight's gttch across his books towards him. Then he would shake the rumblings out

He had always been taught m, never very good to stay that

at

ugh he didn't want

tt

Lights,

In dozed

away

('„>

r ve vol to run. icier

I

'

crucial to a

it

^-—<SJ

always

how

as

it

make

to

that a logical stance.

lew of those horrible essays from his students,

little I

V

story, but he

was

were good enough a

d good

his idea to paper, uper.

after dinnertime.

promise

never do

I'll

hex' re not going to stop.

I

it

again! Just leave

wish I could see

me

"

alone

"Ouch!"

1

I

what that was?

Maybe T re

to risk

grade

off to sleep a

So!

was

hard he worked to change it. it was probablj because he trusted his first messing them up In second guessing himself.

matter

he thought

his instincts

\fter slopping to

»

No

and didn't want

He figured

\X<>'

to:

that re\ ision

Once he had committed

it.

way.

tl

1

is

Maybe

there will he help

I

<

an help m\

sell

Wait

Think about

this.

a solution

"Ouch!" leez. there

Wait

B A

it

was again. Okas, maybe

There, that's

I

I

1

1

much

drums are

%l, please don't

r

how can they getting

let

I

lie

down

thes won't be able to see

They' re getting closer. The) must

anymore. I've got

7 see anything,

ij

better.

an hear them

can't run

Their

^\

and concentrate again on the internal cursor.

Otis head

famed

111

[

i

to stay

see

loser.

them find me

I

here

and hope they

know I'm

here.

don't see me.

me? ran hear the clanging of their

shields.

I

I

They're almost here.

I

can hear their heavy breathing; their blood

Why can

breathing. Their hearts are beating so loudly.

Oh God! He "No.

I

thirsty

my own

not hear

heal

sees me!

." .

Sean jerked awake, and looked wildly around the room. Sweat dripped from, his forehead,

and his breathing was heavy. But slowly he drew

had been having a bad dream. Slowly.

realized he

.

.

slowly.

.

.

in his breath as

he took

in

each |

breath.

.

.

calmly now.

.

.

he sat back

down

in his chair,

braced himself on his

desk, slowly drifted back into reality, and looked around his cold, dark study.

,

Sean leaned over and flipped on the desk lamp.

The

light

But Sean

came

on, but the

way

felt that

room

still felt

the time, so he

all

dark.

checked

his

watch and was amazed;

how long he had been asleep. She would be back any minute now.

He flipped the desk lamp back off, and headed out to get a snack and find way to bed. In the kitchen, he put together the perfect meal: a peanut butter

hi:

sandwich and some Doritos.

o

He was driveway.

half finished with the

A minute

later

sandwich when he heard Her car

pull into the

She was fumbling with the lock, and he heard Her cor

in the front door.

"Sean, what are you

"I'm a

just

still

doing up?"

grabbing a bite to

eat.

I'm getting ready to go

to bed.

Did you hav

good time?"

"Yes, thanks. ..what are you doing eating that junk?

like

it,

snack.

that stuff's

bad for you. Besides, I've

Why can't you

"I'm

Look,

sorry.

I'll

be there

I

don't care

how much

you a thousand times not

y

to

listen?"

let's just

"Alright. I'm going on.

"Okay,

told

in a

go

You

to bed.

I'm

full,

anyway."

clean up your mess before you come."

minute."

Sean began clearing away

his

mess, wondering to himself

disheveled. But he dismissed the thought, remembering

it

why Her

hair

was

had been a windy da)

away the last of his sandwich, Sean turned out the kitchen light way through the darkness to their bedroom.

She was waiting on him there, and Sean remembered why he loved her so

After throwing

and groped

his

much. She was so to Her,

beautiful, and

Sean forgot

all

horrors as Her hands pulled hin

and She seduced him.

Late into the night, Sean finally

Sean couldn't

was absolutely find nothing

see.

blind.

in this

no way of knowing

fell

asleep.

He was surrounded by darkness, and it was absolute. He He reached out and groped for some support, but he couli

apparent void. There was nothing if any

to

to. and there vr< became overwhclnw

hold on

help were coming. Sean suddenly

1

h a sense of abandonment. He fell like surname had led him by the hand this room, had made him feel comfortable, and had then fled. And now

was alone,

in

in total

darkness. w

ith

no knowledge of any potential help.

So he screamed; he needed some help; he needed someone

him the wax

to

be there to

would probably lose mind. He hated not knowing what was in front of him. hut what had driven to this point.' W hat had made him helpless and alone? Someone had

>w

Left in this horrible blackness, he

out.

i

ntionally put

him

room. and. thinking about

in this

it.

Sean began

to feel

Her He was furious that anyone would lead him into such a bleakWhy would anyone want to do that? Why was s. and then leave him there. no one to help' He didn't deserve this ill he had ever done was hold his it out for Her What had happened to it?

Then he heard another scream. Was it his echo? Was it Her.' Was it a

;r\ at

'(•

nster.'

\o.

and

'•am.

He

lie

didn't think

it

was an\ of those.

It

was a blood urdling i

darkness that drowned Sean he

in the total

forgot his anger; he

<

i

ouldfeel nothing but

ouldfind no help, so he forgot

and he

his logic,

zamed again.

That was the end. Sean could now feel hands pressing closer towards him. couldn't even see his the screams

r

Was

own hands,

this

He

Sean forgot to jropc. and he began to run. ck void.

\nd he could

but he could sense others

Hell' W hat was happening?

He screamed and he screamed,

ran frantically through the

He stumbled

but no help came.

heaped around the darkness. He heard si reams and his hair He was losing it. but he couldn't stop it. This wasn't his this was now his fall Where was the help.' Was he not screaming

oss invisible shapes led at flit, bill

Icily

enough?

Then Sean tripped M d.

1

s.

1

lie

He

s<

reamed He

downward, downward. He

nc\ cr hit the ground.

flailed his

arms and twisted

He

fell

dow

his legs, but

n-

he

ontinued falling.

She rolled over, and realized Sean wasn't

in

bed.

She figured he must not

some more. She got up and room. She saw the door was

h e been able to sleep and had gone to write

ked towards his study.

v»

•>ed.

As She neared the a scream. She ran

and then She heard

to the

room was completely dark, so She flipped on Kam from somewhere, somewhere tar away.

Where was Sean?

What was that seream?

What was happening'.'

1-

T'n She saw him.

n i/ed

that.

But his eyes were no more than

Oh God,

he was gone.

door and threw

the light.

a

it

open.

She heard another

vacant stare and She

J The Leaves Are Screaming Angi Taylor

The leaves

me

are screaming at

something about in this

again

can't be a

I

woman

world anymore.

The other day laughing

the daffodils at

my

so I'm not sure

were

femininity

ever

if I

could have been one.

My

Barbie dolls won't play tea they'd rather fight with G.I. Joe

and they scoff because

once

I

dreamed of knights in shining armor sweeping me onto white horses or cowboys saving me from scalping injuns

o

or that

tall,

dark stranger

me from

untying

the railroad ties

just in the nick of time.

But

my

prince charming didn't knock

or even call

or so

much

as leave

me

a

morning-after-see-you-never note,

which After

all,

is

who

like

God But what does or

I

guess.

white dresses, hair curly

red nails and

if

better than nothing

they're the ones

make-up like its not even there you don't shave your legs.

forbid it

matter

I'm a woman,

ma'am

if

if I

I'm a

am

girl

female

or lady.

Barbie's gone to fight and shave her curls

and

I

think

in the trash

I

saw her nylons

can the other day.

"

e

J

wants to be strong and respected and wants

what every hardworking

i

man

deserves, /id

women

hurt their

husbands

because they aren't treated like /id

women

/id

men

hurt

because they aren't treated like

like girls"

but that contuses

h

want

I

supposed But

I

and

I

k those

me more

to be like girls

to be like girls

don't for

men

and scream and say

yell

"Don't play

b;ause

women

men

know

women

just

want

damn

if

there

in this

to

go

daffodils.

is

room

world

left

The

Final Cut

Mike White I'll

never forget the day you smiled and

Said, ''home plate ain't for everyone, kid.

I

dropped

I

never could handle the curve.

that pitch,

proving your point;

Like the day she called to say

You had slipped your lips Around the shoteun steel.

Painting the wall red with your thoughts.

o

What were you

thinking,

Flinging fastballs

anyway?

at silver

mirrors,

Without a single umpire there

To watch you throw

the

game.

1

he Fisherman's

Worth

Mobley a poet, are there not roles that

s

ssumes? Might

I

one

suggest a fisherman.

miewhat, being a suitable

likeness'.'

fishermen, along the water's edge,

js,

liting their

hooks with the truths of

lies.

may drop a lure, like a segmented worm, many ridges, peaks and valleys dance, pulse down into the lonely depths

>me

â&#x20AC;˘xtured with iat If

the fish's

keen perception.

bites.

It

This hers

i

employ

Jifree, yet :â&#x20AC;˘

a

almost

is

good.

a surface skimmer.

fly,

like a ballerina.

tempting, fishy finds that he must strike.

This too

is

good.

â&#x20AC;˘me even resort to using cheese, hoping fish'll

le

fore

it

forget

what they

are. snatch

should sink, even though

Even I

I

r it

should be

his ability to

tjst at It

known catch

that the

fish, yet

it

it

up

stinks.

this

is

good.

fisherman's worth

he

always keep a license and heed the rules,

change with time, of the wardens

him not consort

o\'

the craft.

to filling his basket.

V should he conform to catch and release. lr the fish I

s

are out of the water already,

the poet's job to

help them back

in.

o

Succulent Incognito Summer Muzika Fire seeped through the hole-in-the-wall onto the gray expressionless streets.

A man felt the heat, picked

up

its

musky, heavy scent and brought

his vehicle to rest.

He

stepped from his

car,

another until he arrived

His

o

pulled his hat tight and put one foot after

at the table.

table.

The chair at the table was worn as the wood had given way body until thetwo strangers became friends.

There

is

no scent

like that

to his

of burning flesh.

This was the aroma of the quaint cafe, overpowering the cafe

latte:

and soup du jours.

was ablaze

The

flesh

The

skin burned, devouring the blue eyes and

in the furnace at the center

of the room.

brown locks and

finely-shaped hands he'd once held.

Ashes

He

fell to

tile floor.

staggered backwards, tipping over the chair that

spectacle

He

nothingness on the checkered

knew him;

was too much.

reeled about, searching in wild desperation for

countenance

in horror.

some

similar

the'

I

found none.

I-

Te professors and bums and 9-5

men

chatted calmly amongst

tlmselves.

iwspapers

rattled,

cappucino frothed and Miles Davis bleated

n se from his horn.

I was well.

Bt the flesh

continued to burn,

Voluntarily he cast o\\ his the cool

bi si

until rage

overcame him.

demeanor and seized

marble shocked him. and the

man

the pyro

woman:

recoiled from the

30th, hard breast.

H

clasped his hands tightly.

.

.

heat rose in his cheeks as a

Ti:

biinessmen murmured

in

burned by the

bum

raised an

frantic sculpture.

eyebrow and

disapproval.

ICughed inside, delighted.

'as

obvious

my

lover

H hovered between

was shaken.

the door and the eounter, his

mind

obliterated

m incapable of decision.

A:r painful seconds he walked to the counter.

Unchanged 11

led.

1

a bill for a steaming

mug and

sat gingerly, sun-

o

He

kept his eyes on the liquid before him, diverting them from

inquisitive stares,

He was I

drank

and god forbid, from the

the.

fire.

spent.

in divine dissatisfaction

and admired the curves, the dips

and protrusions of the passionate work

that

him, enveloped him, embraced him, burned him.

My work.

I lit

my

o

a pipe and

let its

smoke

curl as a

mask about my

face, veiling

identity.

From my

hiding place

I

took note of every emotion on his face,

recording his expressions in the private box with those of the endless spectators

of

my

art.

The box

that lets

The flames curled provocatively about me lence of incognito.

t

had captured him, heki

me as

create.

I

realized the succu-

r

Late Vaughan

)0

Jssica

|/o

Ad

more weeks would have made

I

fc.tead fle

it

up

to you.

in

Toronto

of

room-wrecking brawl

m fists

through glass on High Street

fat waitress at the Holiday Inn

Ettomless gin

I

&

ould have you

tonics with White)

remember

Cvered bridges and Eskimo kisses

Sm

angels

at

midnight

S nny-dipping in the Biiillabaisse

I lr

ould have

wo weeks.

Muskingum

and white /inlandel.

made

it

up

to

you

6

December

in

New England

Rolf Parker Ice covered trees

die under the weight if

they aren't released by early spring.

December "Light

is

coming back

"Only hang on velvety green

every

Woody

yesterday,

o

them.

lies to

I

a

to the world, boys,"

life

he says.

longer and there'll be

little

pushing out of

pore." But.

saw a maple

.

.

split

open, good

wood and

Until then

thought perhaps he was sincere.

I

tried to

I

bad, splinters and sap.

knock him down and

December just winked

at

set

him on

me, turned

fire

but

to the trees

and said

"Only a little longer boys, just a bit longer now, I think we're all going to make it." then laughs; he knows no one makes

it,

winter never dies,

again to see who's

it

left,

just

comes around

and who has arrived newly for removal,

murder, and for his sympathy,

in the dark.

fo

offering in Daylight Bon Wells on top of hen she's on top of

l'i

u's unbearably cute and

I

am

me

such a tease

of our black sheets f created a refuge out 's the one I've always wanted; she grows on

I

Dn't

open the blinds baby because

ink

E

lost

I

my

die for

is

me

like the streets

eyes

some more

cigarettes.

.

.

please

dollars and pennies

a drought around this time every year

're down i|e the

in

Houston with no way out

clouds as white children hanging out

^she takes off

ink

my

up and strung out over here

Pi bottled

ire

two

hurts

hands somewhere - maybe they're on your thighs

to the store for

llin

it

to

my

clothes and her tongue surfs

myself-

my mouth

I'm tired of being alone I'm tired of being alone

I'm so tired of being alone

R

ht I

now

can

Inchool >c l'i

I

feel nasty like a disease

make you I

smile with another catch phrase

took Depression 101

me w

top asking

make me

h\

I

don't have any fun

violent, girl

m are the calm before the storm i make me hard when am soft m somehow always manage to keep me I

wre down

in

warm

Houston with no way out

Ife the clouds as white children hanging out A:, he takes off

link

I

to

her clothes and her tongue surfs

myself-

I'm suffering

in

daylight

my mouth

6

I Proposal Angi Taylor "What's the answer?" he asks.

But I'm not

listening.

I'm staring

at

the curve of his neck

and a

little

of

outside

my I

eye

can see the flashing scenery

of the car window.

And I'm

o

thinking,

not of what he asked, but of

why

his

neck curves

just so

and how to place

my

I'd like

hand

there.

barely touching the soft fuzz.

Not now, of course, for he

waiting.

is

But his neck

is still in

view

me of how I used

reminding

to feel,

and the colors are flying by the corner of

changing

fast

my

eye

from green

to blue

to red to black, all

muted

My

together.

throat feels dry

and

all

I

can say is

"No."

*;ape

orange

Jhn Jovner

want

I

naked

you

to see

in the

ocean

with pearls of water dripping from your skin like lapis lazuli stones,

your only emotion kissing

eyes

my

malachite

like lips

of

fog, lips

of heaven.

lips

of laughter

from a child after the sun has risen

over the opal waters

where you your body

let

float

with the waves

while marble quicksilver twists through

your

orange hair

1

1

the

ocean evaporated

would you still be there? or would you rise slowly to the

sky

and become a cloud that

and

would

rain

on

me one day wash me away?

6

untitled ina Es

i've

never really thought of

somaybe

lips as skin

justso

sin

(of the flesh)

would not apply i'd

been waiting for the sun to

set

a long time before

you came

for the earth to roll

the cold to creep

a chill to seep

o

my

bones

mmmmmmmm let

me

(it

skeletal scandal

you

tell

would be)

jump bones jack bones shake

the dust off these old

yeah and move on this sun's got a nice slant

now

welcome

after

i'm thinking

it's

a year of

waking ever

want

to the

warmth of

your kiss well i've

been waiting for the guilt to

go

a long time since for the

wind

to

you came change

the stars to shift this

cloud to

lift

sky

r/

oh vastlasting vortex ,

let

me

tell

you (it

lear

once was)

sky black sky undone wings and

yeah and

fly

move on

this sun's got a nice slant

i'm thinking

it's

now

epitaph

of your mouth moving ever maddening slow over mine

to a year

well

i e

never really thought of your

lips as skin

snaybe justso sin

(of the flesh)

would not

T

apply.

Rat Race Scott Hazle

"I

saw

the best

minds of my generation destroyed by

madness, starving hysterical naked"

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; Allen Ginsberg, Howl '"And

who wants sir?

to die today?

How

equality,

about you,

we can

all

Not me.

madam?

Is

This

it

is

you? You, the age of

die!"

â&#x20AC;&#x201D; David Romtvedt, I

can't

jump, not I

o

yet.

must shout

From I

Yjrj

the rooftops,

must vent

Before I've

I

die.

done

my job.

But there are things a

Harvard education Can't teach.

I

found

In the

And

God

work of Spinoza

Nietzsche,

Logic

in the

quad

At midnight-

Love and liquor Over Einstein anyday.

"Come

in

from out

Thank you,

there, son!"

but I'd rather stay.

There's nothing for

me

in there.

1

learned that the Wall Street

I

Journal, the

New

York Times,

Are the Bible and Apocrypha

Of my Brave New World. not worth

"It's

it,

kid!"

Define worth for me,

officer.

Perhaps that of Merrill,

And Lynch?

They want me

And

to smile,

nod, and wink knowingly.

Birdie the thirteenth.

Order martinis.

Marry Sharon Stone an apron.

In

But

My

I

6

drink Pabst.

girlfriend's in Soho,

Playing Rent.

And no power Is

broker

as tolerant

As

a

Doctor of Philosophy

At the Hasty Pudding.

My

ideas are smaller now.

Harvard means no more than SUNY.

"Come

in off the ledge,

I'm certain,

buddy!"

sir.

That you have good intentions But you can't save I

me from

myself.

can quote Descartes and Kant

And But

I

Hegel,

work the god-damned Xerox machine.

can't

I

Short Story

Aman

Behal

The

train

And

as usual, the scuffle

grinded to a stop

Bombay

a small station in the

Monotony breeds such contempt, people

boarding.

way

at

suburl,

resumed between those alighting and struggle their

out of one hell and nonchalantly march into another. After

this is

what distinguishes the man from the savage, the

all

ability to f

bored and then the necessity to be bored differently.

The two cops entered

the coach,

dumped

the oblong,

they were carrying and proceeded to seat themselves.

wooden box It was a sull

June afternoon on a Wednesday and the sardines had just disperse to

o

work, so there was some breathing space

Francis heaved a sigh of crevice and Francis

relief.

in the

compartment.

A beam of light shone through a

wondered what time of the day

it

was.

He

.

mijt

have dozed off for a long time.

A sharp bend made

him shuffle his position but a tiny bit and now was no longer glaring him in the eye. The cop yawned, seemed, for ages and opened the newspaper he had picked up froi the platform, and of course, it was gratis just like the train ride anJ everything else. The law always prevails, we are a country given that ethic. The headline screamed - 5000 perish in major quake irl Iran. The cop looked at his partner, and as if on cue, they yawned again in unison. Pande looked at the box and saw that it had slid (1 ,

the light

il

I

the wall a

little,

so he got up and gracefully kicked

yawn and opened

the

film review page where a slinky starlet stared

him

He resumed

his seat

eyes sparkled.

Francis

felt

hard there.

whole of

He

and

leered.

his

He was

it

back

in

newspaper

placl to

tl

happy.

a sharp pain in his ribs as if somebody had kicked hir He wondered why. He had never even harmed a fly th

his

life.

Why

would people want

to hurt

*

in the face. Hif-|

somebody who!

I

The

forever trying to be gentle?

ÂŤr;

Ksengers and

among them was

u her and she held him their kids,

ft'ut

And

Bight.

k

it

blood

was

he ?

picked up a few more

train

kid, say five, with his

little

Mothers are always paranoid

close.

and justifiably felt

a

so.

Own

flesh

and blood, Francis

own abdomen.

something sticky around his

He wanted

to pull his shirt

up and have a look but

hand would not move, no matter The mother loosened her grip and the child ck off in the direction of Francis. He was happy to see kids, he ild them. The stretched hand of the mother caught hold of the iid and forbade him to go nearer. "Not good for kids.*" Francis Jught why suddenly he had become so repulsive to people. On

cramped

1/ hard he

for space. His

tried.

iv-kends. he used to take the street kids out to the ti

their

playground

mothers always trusted the man. He was known to be a

i-hearted, gentle fellow. His thoughts wandered.

1 then,

it started coming back to him. Last night, he had come Ik from work and his wife had said she needed some wheat8<ir for dinner. He had promptly changed, tucked his wallet in his Wit-pocket as he always had done, and had darted out. The street ir. dimly lit and someone had called him by his name. He could

clearly see

id's

who

voice, and

it

was but

the voice

was (ami liar.

everybody was a friend

in that

It

poor

was

a

locality.

\i then somebody had grabbed him from behind. They were

Hoping him of his watch, his gold-ring

(it

was

part of his

dowry)

He had panicked and K'amed and then he had felt a warm current envelop him. He Kd to recall what had happened later but wouldn't come back. *'

then

somebody was going

tor his wallet.

it

the train entered Dadar station and slowed down He saw the two cops coming in his direction. And he widered why he would merit their attention. The cops walked

K

ai

hat

moment,

halted.

01 lifted

b;d

the coffin

dekhenge

and walked

out.

(will take care of

it

"Dump him

after lunch).**

here,

khane ke

6

Ode To an

Elderly Calculus Teacher

anonymous I'm walking,

my

closed in

makes me

hand.

in the rain,

like

I

it

all

like the rain, or at least

I

amongst the storm rather than

feel like a raindrop

surrounded

with that really long umbrella

closed,

around by fluffy white clouds. The

it

a sto

rain's falling

1

j

my matted red hair, racing down my skull, sliding down my ears, sneaking down my forehead, gliding along my nd only to be blown off by my heavy, heartrending sighs. And I'm thinking, as the rain beats out a driving rhythm, about my posture through

I

behind

of

all

hate

my

it

goes:

I

hate myself.

my bone-structure, I hate my hate my psychosis, I hate my sub-conscious, hate m) I hate my inner child, my outer ego, my heart-on-the-

body,

neurosis,

o

way

things. "Listen up. This is the

my

I

I

hate

hair,

I

hate

1

I

I

conscious,

sleeve-don't-hurt-me-please-why-were-we-ever-here-and-why-an you-all-the-way-over-there personality and

alone that I

I

manage

much

my

announces

to

everyone

what's going on here,

spend the next hour .

.

."

and

to the depths of

possible.

in the

my

live in

I

in

my

is

the prof walks that

have absolutely no idea

my HP-48G

living

my mind

"I

rain pondering

So

grandmotherly smile

that

room,

by the grace of Gr

up straight!"

third semester calculus class.

walking quickly and displaying

an "OK.

it is

less stand

get to the multi-storied building after

and walk into in,

to stand,

and you are about

to

room." She opens her mouth

heaven and skipping over the earth as quickly

She must have gotten around

because she breaks into

my

wi'

gone, traveling from the brink of he

mind's

to

flight

memorizing

as

my name

with the deadly question

"Chris, did you have any questions from last night's assignment?'

And immediately my starts

thinking finishes up

with a simple question, "Did

I

its

tirade

on posture

anc

do the homework assignment

Did you? And while we're on the subject, did you figure out the were you busy recording the meaning t(

secret to life last night, or life?

Did you do your thinking about

love, or

God, or finding Goc

1

opeing a god, or a Child of God, or the

superman

Wt-death of the universe, or did you even

manage

theory, the to figure out

fait

you were feeling? Did you get closer

to enlightenment, to

in.T

peace, to a loved one, or did you only

draw your knees

Jtr chin

bow your head and

and

to

rock yourself crying to sleep

Have you backstepped your way through your childhood one incident that made you the way you are, forr? Did you tell someone you love them? Did you touch the wire, disarm the past, or decide to endure the present? Did you IV ar an unbreakable oath and mean it? Did you make a promise ap a promise, break a promise, make someone's day. make jcieone laugh, make someone cry, make someone die, or bring Jcrself back from the dead? Did you waste your time or did you ajin?

u found that

ally

accomplish something? No, I'm

Br calculus ir-quation

r

last night,

but

I

tell

worth solving, then

sorry.

you what,

I'll tell

if

I

I

didn't get to

ever actual

you the answer."

I

\

sol

"O

J Chronicle High School Magazine

Competition In this age of ever increasing technological influence,

it

can

remember the importance of the arts and find an outlet creativity. The Chronicle High School Magazine Competition w begun to combat this problem by encouraging creative expressi difficult to

1

throughout South Carolina.

High schools

all

over the

state

were then judged by Chronicle's sign, content quality

submitted their magazines, whi

staff in three areas: layout

and

and selection process. While we applaud

all

c t

participants for their excellent publications, three stood out partic

o

larly strong in all three areas:

First Place: Laureate

Brookland-Cayce High School, Cayce,

Second Place:

SC

Illusions

Fort Hill High School, Fort Hill,

SC

Third Place: Sa pphonv

Wade Hampton High We

congratulate

all

School, Greenville,

the schools

encourage them, and everyone,

SC

on a job well done and

to continue their support of the

art:

and creative expression.

mâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;m

-

Fall

1998 Chronicle

[senior staff]

Heather Buxton

Editor-in-Chief

Heather West Kostas Ioannidis

Managing Editor Business Manager

Dunphy Bobby Congdon

Layout and Design Editor

Kelly

AshleaHall Aaron Craven [active

Submissions Editor

Copy

Editor

Webmaster

members)

Matt Fallon Jay Mobley

Woody Muire Jessica Sosebee

[thanks

to]

Jennifer Lester

Media Advisor

The Coffee House The Media Advisory Board

Poetry and Accoustic Night;

[submit to Chronicle...)

PO Box

2 187

Clemson, SC 29632

chron@hubcap.clemson.edu [online]

http://liubcap.ciemson.edu/~ch ion

Chronit

an and literary magazine of Clemson University. The do not necessarily reflect the opinions o\ the student body, or administration. The editors oi Chimin le assume responsibilty for the le is the official

contents ol faculty,

<

'hronu

le

publication ol opinions stated or otheru ise implied in Chronicle, but necessarily agree with those opinions.

do not