Impressions 2002

IMpRESSiONS

2002

Aooisor: Dn. DAvid R. SolhEiM

Mitors: TliEO Bolm

Cony NeuMillen

Nicole iAsmzcbski

KAleN Osr JoEl Sikes

r

IMpRessioNs is MAde possible by THE GENERous spoNSORSHip of DickiNSON STATE UNiVERSiTy. IT is AN ANNUAl liTERARY jouRNAl CREATEd by THE sTudeNTs of DickiNSON STATE UNiVERSiTy, iNcludiNG THOSE THAT ARE MEMbeRs of ETA EpsiloN, DSU's SiGMA TAu DElTA CHApTER.

Cover Photo "Angst" By Melissa] ohnson @

2002 by TliE ediTORS of

Tli e iNdividuAl AUTiiORS wliolly OWN All fuTURE RiGiiTS TO MATERiAl publisliEd iN Tliis liTERARY MAGAZiNE, ANd ANY REpROdUCTiON OR REpRiNTiNG, iN wliole OR iN pART, MAY be doNe oNly wiTii Tliein peRMissioN. EliGibiliTy fon pniHs WAS RESTRicTEd TO full ANd pART .. TiME sTudENTS of DickiNSON STATE UNiVERSiTy. TliE wonks of Tlie ediTORS ANd fAculTy MEMbERS CONTAiNEd 1-feRiN WERE NOT Eliqible fOR pRilES. Tl-fe opi-liONS ANd REpRESENTATiONS CON ..

TAiNEd iN Tliis MAGAZiNE do NOT NECESSARily REflECT TliE OpiNiONS of TliE ediTORS, UNiVERSiTy, AdMiN.iSTRATiON, OR fACUlTy. IMpR ESSiONS.

SCOTT ANTON

BEAU BINEK

THEO BOHI\'

"Setting Sun" .........................19 "The Decision" ......................45

Untitled.................................. 33 Black Ace ............................... 34 "I Doubt Very Much" ............. I? ''The Sun Shines" ................... 27 "The Drops" ..........................40

ANNA MARX

Untitled ................................... 6 "Temporary Insanity".............. 8 "Love and Hate".................... 38

TANYA MCGRADY

Untitled .................................. 3!

JORDAN MERKEL

Untitled .................................21

CORY NEUMILLER

"The Greatest Mutton" .............?

Ocean Front Property ......... 10 HEATHER BRAATEN

"Coyote's Lament"............... .44

JULlE Bl'CKMAN

"What is Wrong?" ................ ! I "Procrastinator" ................. 19 "Let's Play".........................23

A."'DREW DESROSIER

"A Single Gold Star".......... .42

TARA DESETII

"Pillow" .................................26 "Adventures with Fire" ........3l "Tomorrow" .........................43

JACKJE DIXON

Lady Conten/ ......................... 42

LAUREEN EVANS

Andrew................................... 18 Dad's First Car...................... 25

MARCY Frx

"Grandma and Fate"..............32 "Dennis and the Evolving Cow" ..................................40

Wheat is King .........................45 JOHANNA Nms

Lazy Dayz ............................... l2 Summer Breeze...................... 15

KALEN OsT

"Great Balls of Fire".............. I8 "Phobias" ............................... 19 "Five Ways to K.iss" ............... 38 Inside Ou/............................... 39

JACALYNN PARKS

Flying Free............................ 38 Summer Sun ........................... 38 Beauty Within .........................38

"Book Nazi" ..........................21 "The Robtns" .........................32

JENNESY RAAUM

"Take a Deep Breath"..............4 "Diary of a Farmer" .............. lO "Why I Gtve Women"............24

"Untitled" ................................8 "Untitled" .............................. l3 "Untitled" .............................. 36

ALEXIA RENNER

"North Dakota ... How Can You Live There?" .............. 22 "Silly Habit" ..........................24

JAMES RicK

Untitled..................................30

BARBARA SCHAAN

"Monkey With the Nodding Head"................................... 9 "Yet Will I Hope" ................... l4 "Time" ................................... 30

RANDY SCHANTZ

Untitled .................................. 30

JoEL SIKES

"Mechanix" ............................ l5 "The St. Turkey's Day Massacre" .........................28

TAMMY SL"1NION1W

"For Every Tum There Is a Season" .......................35

PATTY SNYDER

"Risk"......................................6 "Solace" .................................29

AMANDA TAYLOR

"The Tradition"...................... l6

TRAVIS GARTON

Viking Ship .............................37

DAN HAFELE

"Part of lt" .............................46 "In Hopes" .............................46

KtM HALVORSON

''The Huntress" ........................4 "No Regrets".........................20

KEN HAUGHT

"Untitled" ..............................35

STEPHANIE HAUGLAND

Harmony................................ 16

MELISSA JOHNSON

Angst........................ from cover Edge of the World.................... 5 Rave ......................................... 9

KEtt.A KuYKENDALL

Untitled ....................................?

Untitled ................................ .41

Cl-fERYL LEACH

Balance Study ........................ 27

CINDY MAKELKY

Knot 1-Jome.............................28

/

Wi NNERS

Poetry

Prose

First Place: "Coyote's Lament" by Heather Braaten

First Place: "Take a Deep Breath" by Marcy Fix

Second Place: "Untitled" by Jennesy Raaum

Second Place: "Adventures with Fire" by Tara Deseth

Third Place: ''Time" by Barbara Schaan

Third Place: "Book Nazi" by Laureen Evans

Honorable Mentions: "North Dakota...How Can You Live There?" by Alexia Renner "Pillow" by Tara Deseth "No Regrets" by Kim Halverson

Honorable Mentions: "A Single Gold Star" by Andrew DesRosier "The Tradition" by Amanda Taylor "Temporary Insanity" by Anna Marx

TWo-DimensionalArtwork First Place: Dad's First Car by Laureen Evans Honorable Mentions: Black Ace by Beau Binek Angst by Melissa Johnson Balance Study by Cheryl Leach

Second Place: lAzy Dayz by Johanna Njos Third Place: Untitled by Keila Kruykendall

FORETHOU GHTS

A uthors are easy to get on with - if you 'rc fond of children.

-Michael Joseph

The faults of great authors are generally excellences carried to an excess.

-Samuel Taylor Coleridge

It is mtsleading to say that writing is a pleasure, though there will be moments of great. unparalleled pleasure at times when one is writing. Most of the time, however, wnting tS a painful activity, a task so difficull as to drive its practitioner half mad. I cannot recall the times I have asked myself why in God's name I pursue a vocation so rife with disappointment and failure. Then I promptly go back to work.

-J.M. Broll'er

TAkE A DEEp BREATJ.t

By Marcy Fix Neither of the two men looks like they want to help me. They are young.

Younger than my dad but older than my brother, and he's in seventh grade.

They are much more interested in the adu lts making noise in the long line.

So much noise that when I tried to yell for my mom she couldn't hear me. I can't hear her either. I bet she's yelling right now, and I can't hear her because of those people. Maybe that's what she meant about finding a policeman - they can make those people be quiet so my mom can hear me.

But they're not doing that; they're not doing anything. They said I should go find my mom and leave them alone to do their job. Mom said, "Policeman are very good at finding people and they like finding moms for lost six year old girls named Amy best of all."

She smiled when she said that. I bet she's not smiling now. I bet she's yelling and I can't hear her. Maybe these aren't real policemen. They look too young, they're probably still learning about lost lillie girls, like my uncle is learning about making buildings. I should look for their teacher.

There! That one over there is older.

He looks like Grandpa. He has a belly like Grandpa's and his hands are almost as big. He'll help me. Grandpa likes to help me. He helped me with my shoelaces. "One rabbit ear goes around and under the other rabbit ear... " I can't start crying though.

Grandpa says he can't understand me when I cry. Grandpa says 1 should take deep breaths when I'm trying not to cry.

"Excuse me, are you a teaching policeman? Do you know about lost little girls?"

"1 sure do! As a matter of fact, I'm the man that found the very first lost little gi1¡l's mom. What's your name sweetie?"

"Amy." "Are you lost Amy?"

4 Impressions

My chest started to feel funny.

Like when my brother sits on it and makes me giggle so hard I can't breathe. "N-n-n-o, my mom s-said if I can find a p-policeman, I'm not lost.

She is."

The grandpa started to laugh. He doesn't laugh as loud as Grandpa.

"Well Amy, maybe your mom found a different policeman. Then neither one of you would be lost, right? You're just not together. You're not going to cry are you? I won't be able to understand you if you cry."

"That's a good girl, big deep breaths. Do you know what your mom's name is or maybe what color shirt she is wearing?"

"Urn, her name is Faye, and, and, and ... " "Slow down sweetie, we' 11 find her. Remember, deep breath."

Deep breaths feel good. "She is wearing a pink fuzzy shirt, it's really

soft and, and ..." Deep breath. "She wears it cuz it's my favorite. She says I can have it when I get big enough."

"That's good!" The grandpa is bending down toward me. He looks at my face for a long time. "With those big brown eyes and rosy cheeks I bet you look very pretty in pink. Do you know your last name?"

"Yes, it's Jones, but I don't know how to spell it yet. I'm learning at school."

"That's O.K., I think I know how.

You're in school? What a big girl!

How old are you?"

"I get to have a birthday party tomorrow cuz I turned six yesterday."

"Wow! Is that why you got to go shopping today?"

"Yes, for big girl shoes."

He takes my hand and leads me to a bench. "WouJd you like to help me call my friend? He knows everyone.

He'll be able to find your mom really

TJ.tE HuNTREss Blaze orange illuminates in the distance.

The bullet of death awaits its exit from the Chamber to pierce the flesh of the innocent.

I spot the target and the chase is on.

Adrenaline is taking control of my body And I Jose all sense of reality.

With the accuracy of a sharpshooter, I aim and ftre.

My prey falls victim to the golden sphere, While I celebrate my victory.

-Kim Halvorson

EdGE of

T~ E Wonld

fast."

My throat is getting kinda tight, so I JUSt nod my bead.

"Good. This will be fun; I haven' t had help with this heavy radio in a long time. When I nod my head at you, push this button, and when I wink at you like this..." he closed one eye like daddy does when we are playmg a trick on mommy. "You let Lhe button go. O.K.?" " O.K." "Go ahead and push the button."

I did and be talked to a man named Dispatch. He told the other man all about me and my mom. He told about my eyes and new shoes and about the pmk fuzzy shirt. He tned to spell my name but I don't think he

Melissa]ohnson

knew how. He told Dispatch we were by the loud people. He called them protestors. Then he closed his eye again and I let the button go.

The radio started to talk. The other man said that there was a lost mom by the protesters too. He told the grandpa the lady was very upset. I wondered if she should take a deep breath. The lady was three blocks away.

He nodded at me again and I pushed the button. The grandpa said we were going for a walk and he would talk to Dtspatch when we got there. He winked and I let go.

He took my hand again and said we were going somewhere quieter. I thought that was a good idea. Maybe I

could hear my mom then. I bet she's yelling.

We walked past the two policemen who are still in school. They smiled at the grandpa but they didn' t look at me. We stopped and looked both ways before we crossed the street, and I held the grandpa's hand tight so a car wouldn't hit me. We walked by some more policemen. The grandpa was talking, but I was trying to hear my mom.

We stopped and looked both ways again. Just when we got across that street I heard my name. I knew she'd be yelling. The grandpa let my hand go and I ran to my mom. When she picked me up I told her sometime it helps if you take a deep breath. •

5 Impressions

Risk Racing within my veins

Is the ambition to Succeed, fear Knows it has no hold on me.

-Patty Snyder

Anna Marx 6 Impressions

TH E GREATEST M un oN Rid E EvER

By Cory Neumiller Every young cowboy dreams of rodeo, and I was no exception. I dreamed of Cheyenne and Vegas, Houston and Amarillo. So at age four, I took up sheep riding. I only dad it professiOnally once, but I competed heavily in the amateur circuit, mostly at my own pnvate arena, known to the rest of my family as the "corral." I also drafted my little brother into the proud ranks of the ASRA (the Amateur Sheep R1ding Association), where I wasn't just the president, but also a member. The club consisted of aJJ two of us, and an occasional friend from town who usually only rode once and then demanded has dues back.

We usuaJiy stuck to ewes, but when the finals came around, we would throw our rigging over a buck.

We figured if you thought you were man enough to ride in the finals, you had to prove it. The finals never had a set date, but usually was held on a warm, sunny day with a slight breeze and puffy clouds floating overhead, but most Importantly when my parents weren't around. At that pOint, we would lure the sheep into the corral with a bucket of feed and then proceed to rope our stock for the first go-round.

We had two different events: bareback and saddle. Bareback was more convenient because we didn't have to mess around with pulling our c1nches taght on the sheep, which can be pretty tricky. Our ··saddle" consisted of a pad that mom had sewn surrups and a cinch on for nding horses m the wanter.

One of us would hold the rope, usually my brother, while the other put the saddle down on the sheep, and tned to Jerk the cinch tight. The next step was probably the trickiest. You had to persuade the other competitor to crawl onto the sheep. 1 repeatedly had to tell of fame and glory to get my little brother on top of the woolly, and when that didn't work, 1 usually had to threaten bodily harm. Finally, when the rider was an place, the assistant would take the rope

from around the sheep's neck and the ride would begin. Unlike saddle bronc, where you mark the horse coming out of the chute with your spurs, in saddle sheep you didn't use spurs for fear of them becoming permanently affixed to the wool. thus draggmg you along after you fell off (our equivalent of being "hung up").

Only once did I compete professionally, and it was at the tender age of five. At the big rodeos, they called my event "mutton bust' n" but nothing could be farther from the truth. They should have called it "kid bust'n." I

Keila Kuykendall don't ever recall seeing one of the sheep's mothers runnmg out there to pick up her bawling kad. Nevertheless, parents all throughout the Midwest thought this was great fun, and mine paid my entry fee. I drew a bad one, whose name alone still propels fear through me to this day.

"Son,'' my dad saad with a sound of panic an has voice. "You drew Wilma. Now watch her coming out of the chute. They say she spins hard to the left. The last kad that tned her got his spurs lodged up in her wool and

was drug around the arena until his mom rescued ham."

This kind of speech was not one that adds to a young cowboy's confi dence, but regardless. I got on that sheep. Actually, somebod} put me on the sheep. The rest as history.

"Are you ready cowboy?" the chute boss asked. "Get me out of here!" ''Whatever you say kid," and he jerked the gate. I think something was lost in the translation.

1 tned to remember what dad had saad about the sheep. Somethjng about it gomg hard to the left, or was it to the right? It didn't really matter. I found out later that sheep don't spin. As a matter of fact, most sheep have taken a geometry class in their high school days and know that the shortest dastance between two points is a straight line. Wilma must have been an honor student. She took off for the opposate end of the arena at a dead sprint.

I've heard all of the stories about famous eaght second rides and how the old tamers stayed on even after the whistle sounded, but I consider myself an innovator, always looking for new ideas, so I tested out my theory of a two-second ride. I bailed off the sheep, some would dare to say fell off, break ing the fall with my head. As I tried to get my directions straight. Wilma turned in the arena. pawed dirt, and came back for me. Some an the crowd claimed my second ride was longer than my farst, but the judges deducted pomts for style. Someth1ng about holding on to the ears with my legs wrapped around the sheep's belly seemed to take away some of the elegance and grace of my ride.

I went home that da)' with my complimentary tee shin and swore off sheep riding for good. Never agam dad I crawl on one of those muttons. but nowadays I will pay the entry fcc tor any young aspmng cowboy. whether he wants to ride or not! •

Impressions 7

TEMpORARY INSANiTy

By A tma Marx Shuffllng through the kitchen drawer, she found what she was looking for. She grabbed the black handle, drawing it out to view. The cold, tapered, stainless steel would work JUSt ftne.

Slo\vly. steadily she walked up the stam; mto the dark room. As 1f somethmg had taken over her thoughts, she stood in the doorway staring blankly at their faces.

Emotionless, she drew near to their bed. Seconds later, as her clenched hand gripped the bloody weapon, a red puddle of warm blood formed directly below the alienated object,

onto the now tarnished white carpet.

Suddenly, she dropped the object that was to free her from all her pain. It dropped to the floor bouncing once, twice, then it came to a halt in the middle of the deep red sta1n. While watching the bloody Object bounce, she instantly turned wh1te from head to toe. What just happened? The blood! There's so much blood! She fumbled with the phone dialing 911.

As the cops handcuffed her and hauled her to the precinct, she remained silent. Sitting in the dismal room. they began quesuoning her "what happened tonight?" She had no

Caterpillars Some are ugly Some are fat Some are small But at some pomt in their lives They encase themselves in a cocoon The world goes away When they arc ready They face the world in a new light They are beautiful butterflies I ask you this, my friends Will you be my cocoon?

So that when I am ready I can face the world

recollection as to what had happened.

All she could remember was the pain of the beating...

As she leaned over the railing, enduring the thick leather strap, again and agatn, she thought about what brought her to this point. It was always the same thing, their drinking.

She w1shed they would stop. Once, she even begged them to quit, but she quickly learned that was the wrong thing to do. The strap struck her callused skin once, twice more.

Eventually, the pain seemed to disappear. Yet, she knew that it was gomg to return with the morning light, as 1t had so many times before.

During the day, it wasn't the phys1cal pam that was so bad, she could handle that. It was the emotional aspect that she couldn't handle. How could two people, who were supposed to love her no matter what, cause her so much pain and misery? She went through each day hoping, praying her parents wouldn't speak to her. For she knew, whatever they had to say would be far worse than the silence could ever be.

With each lingering strap of the belt she vowed this was going to be the last t1me she would feel this way!

She was done dealing with their abuse. Tonight, she was going to end it all!

After her parents went to bed, she went to the kitchen to make a sandwich. What happened from there, she isn't qutte sure, although she does remember walking slowly, steadily up the stairs.

-]ennesy Raaum "She'll get off without a doubt," the district attorney stated. "All we can do IS request her to be placed in a psych1atr1c facility."

"Sheila ... Shetla are you ready to go?"•

8 lm pressions

,.,):

The MoNkey wiTh ThE NoddiNG HeAd

By Barbara Shaan After school was out for the day, my brother, sisters and I used w wait 10 the back of the church for my dad to pick us up after he got off work. The school would be locked but the church was always open.

My dad used to get a lot of gnef about us SJll10g so long after school; I used to love it.

The church I grew up in had the most beautiful nativity scene in the front of the church every Christmas season. The stable was formed with real Evergreens and bales of hay were used for bedding.

On the communion railing next to the stable sat a fake monkey With a cup in h1s hand.

When you dropped a coin in the cup, the monkey's head would nod until it slowly almost indiscernibly came to a halt. The church would be dark except for the nativity and the flickering of the votive candles. The wmd would wh1stle through the door in need of weather stripping and RAVE the smell of pine permeated the air. We never had much money so what we lacked in toys we made up for with our imaginations.

Being in church at dark was a fantasyland. Light dancing from the candles and the soft light from the pine stable made a perfect setting for an active imagination.

The monkey always fascinated me with his red hat, jacket and nodding head. I would save all my pennies for the monkey. You only had one shot

nowhere a hand dropped on my shoulder. I started, dropping the penny 10 the cup. I had always felt so safe in church.

I was sure it was the devil himself standing behind me. I had heard no one enter or walk up behind me. All I could do was glue my eyes on that nodd10g head as a vo1ce whispered in my ear, "Are you taking money out of there'?"

Withom turning or taking my eyes off the monkey I told him, "No, I was putting some in. I hke to watch him nodding." As the monkey kept nodding, he told me about the Baby Jesus and how children are very special to Him. The money Baby Jesus sees me putting in is also special because a child gave it to Him. I turned and looked at him then and the old man told me that any money I put in the cup would be returned to me tenfold. Baby Jesus would see to it. He left as abruptly as he had arrived. I Melissa]ohnson slowly turned back to watch the monkey, almost indiscemibly cease to nod his head, dreaming with a nickel but you got five with five pennies. Every Christmas season I of the ten pennies I would again have think of that monkey - that monkey to drop into the cup.

I never saw the old man again but and an old man. Mainly, because I had the hell scared out of me late one he made Baby Jesus real to me. Maybe that is why I always sang "Silent evening.

I was in my own little dream world Night" to my babies. I cannot give preparing to drop a penny into the cup. them the monkey with the nodding In the quiet serenity of the dimly lit head. He burned one Christmas when silent church I was anticipating the the church had a fue. However, I can enjoyment of watching the monkey try to introduce them to Baby Jesus. • nodding his head. Seemingly, out of

Impressions 9

DiARY of A FARMER

By Marcy Fix Oct. 15 Wow, what a day! Short on help this week. Colby is off on one of his grand road trips to see the country. Paul is back in school, and James is trying to get the hang of college life. I'm glad he decided to go to the locaJ university this year. lL 's hard to let them go.

Oct. 17 Dee remjnded me again today that I should probably think about getting a hired hand. I don't know. Pretty soon the snow's going to fly, and I won't have anything for an extra guy to do until spring. I told her I'd think about it. Colby will be home in a couple of days, and James will have a three-day weekend. It's supposed to be a pretty nice weekend, so it should be no prob-

OcEAN FRONT PRopERTY 10

Impressions

!em to get the cattle home from summer pasture OCI. 21

Colby and Ann made it home last night. Said they had a wonderful trip.

Can't wait to do it again. She's a pretty nice girl; Colby seems to like her quite a bit. Maybe our boys aren't all confirmed bachelors after aJl! We got the cows home today. Took all dam day, even with three stock trailers, and four of the boys' friends helping out.

Oct. 30 Been running around all week trying to get my machinery ready for the big move home from the field. Sure wish

Dee would let me buy a semi, it would make hauling bales and machinery a lot easier. She does have a point. I don't know if we could get the bank to finance more equipment, and I sure don't know who would drive the trung!

Nov. 2

Boys and I started moving equipment home today. Another all day affair, and we're not done. Willard Scott says to expect snow, and I don't have half the hay home. Wish Colby hadn't gotten that job in town. Now I have to wait for them to help on the weekends.

Nov. 10

We didn't even get two inches. All the

Cory Neumiller

f /

better, she wasn't talking to me much last mght! I got lucky. The tree 1s beauuful and she's all smiles.

Dec. 20

WHAT Is WRONG? I can see it in your eyes, And it makes my eyes want to water, I can hear it in your voice, And it makes my voice no longer vocal, I can feel your depression, And it makes my heart want to stop beating, I can find a way to help you, But you're already feeling defeated.

-Julie Buckman

machinery and hay is home. Good thing, Paul started wrestling practice today, so I won't even have him at night now. Time to settle in for winter, and wrestling season!

Nov. 15 Paul's first tournament is this weekend. I'm afraid he'll try to follow in Colby and James's footsteps and have an undefeated sentor year. That's just too much pressure on the little guy. I told him, it's just a sport, ten years down the road no one is going to remember. I hope he takes it to heart.

I'd sure hate to see him go after it and get his heart broken.

Nov. 20 Paul took first place. He pinned his way through the tournament! God, that kid looked good. I still tell him there's no pressure. I don't know how much good it does; he puts a lot of pressure on himself.

as good as one she makes herself, so she's calmer. All my boys are home, and sometimes we have extra! Ann was on call at the hosp1tal, so she spent Thanksgiving with us rather then go home to Kenmare. Colby sure glows when she walks in the room.

Dec. 1 Finally snowed a little. Just enough for the boys to drag the snowmobile out. Those kids work hard and play hard. Dee loves it when they come in from outside. They're always happy and hungry. She loves to watch her boys eat! Paul doesn't have to make weight for a few more days, so we aJI enjoyed a nice big dinner together.

James is a wonderful storyteller (he gets that from me) so we had a fun evening.

The boys start X-Mas break tomorrow. Everyone is in high spirits. I love the holidays!

Dec. 26 Another great X-Mas! My folks came for dinner. The boys all seem thrilled with their gifts. It was a beaut1ful day.

The kids were out on the snowmobile and four-wheeler. I hate it when they're out on those things. They think they're invmcible. Paul doesn't have another tournament until the first part of January but that's a big one.

Jan. 1 Happy New Year! Colby spent his New Year's Eve with Ann. James and Paul invited their girlfriends over and watched movies all night. I was glad they didn't want to go out. Good night of the year to get killed. Dee's crazy niece saved some 4th of July fireworks and brought them out. She lit them off in the driveway at midnight while we all watched from the house.

That girl comes up with some wild ideas! It was fun.

Jan. 10 Paul had another great weekend.

Tough tournament, and he's still undefeated. Maybe his year wiU go well after aiL Guess I shouldn't worry so much.

Paul had another good tournament.

Still undefeated. Dee started her XMas shopping. She's early this year!

Colby IS planning another big trip for the spring. That boy is meticulous! He plans every single day down to the minute! I don't know how Ann puts up with it, but I'm glad she does.

Dec. 10

Feb. 1

Got Dee her tree today. Thought I'd

Wow, what a month! Had a nasty cold

Dec. 5

Nov. 25 I sure like the holidays! Dee has learned that a store bought pie is just

Impressions

11

snap. The cows' water froze up every day for a week. Couldn't keep my tractors running, and still had to follow Paul a couple places and watch him wrestle. Some of the other parents think it's silly to go to all tournaments and duals. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to one or the kids and I wasn't there.

Feb. 15

State tournament is next week. I'm a nervous wreck. Paul seems fine. He's still undefeated on the year.

Marc!t 1

He did it! That crazy kid went undefeated on the year! He also broke a bunch of school and state records! I'm so proud of the way he handled himself. I can't believe we have three state champion wrestlers! Colby and

James coached his championship match. Having both his brothers in his corner meant a lot to Paul. He had a great cheering section too. Dee's niece comes as often as she can, so of course she wouldn't miss the state tournament. Dee's brother loves wrestling, and he wouldn't have missed the end of the era for the world. Ann took the weekend off of work. It was a really wonderful weekend!

March 5

The weather is finally giving me a little slack, and with wrestling season over, it's a lot easier to get things done around the place. Next week Paul and James both have spring break. Should be a good time to get a lot done.

Boy have we been getting a Jot done!

Those boys are workhorses! Guess I should mention how proud I am of their work ethic. Especially now that we're calving, and they're going to have to put some hours into that!

April 2

Beautiful day! Spring is coming around in a big way! Calving is going well, and Paul is getting antsy to get to the business of farming. That kid sure likes to be out with the animals and machinery.

Aprill5

Tax day came and went. Had to file an extension.

April17

March 20

College is winding down for James.

johanna Njos 12

Impressions

He's pretty sure he's going to go to NDSU next year. We'll miss him but he probably does need the change of scenery. I think he'll be more serious about school if he's somewhere else.

If he's serious about going into medicine, he's gotng to have to get serious soon! His girlfnend, Kari, is planning to go also. She takes school very seriously; maybe she'll rub off.

Here lies my heart I've given it to you Several times before And I contmued to give But you broke it Into a million pieces So, one last time, Here is my heart Broken Into a million pieces To constantly remind you Of the result of your actions Don't ever forget My heart Keep it with you Always Maybe it will mend With time in your presence I' II even let you keep a piece As my heart will never be The way it was when you were with me.

Paul's senior year is coming to an end.

He's thinking about going to DSU. They have a decent Ag program.

Colby and Ann are going on another trip across the country again next month. He also got a good deal on a trailer house he's planning to move to the land south of town this summer. I don't know when we'll be able to fit that in!

Dee is a little depressed. Her babies are growing up. I know how she feels.

May30

WelJ, things have gone really fast around here! Paul graduated, so naturally Dee had to throw a bash for half the city! Spent most of the month just dealing with that stuff. Got done with calving but now I have to plan a branding and get them to summer pasture ASAP! Colby asked Ann to marry him!

Between wrestling (he's been asked to coach) and farming, it was hard for them to set a date! They finally decided on late October. Not much time!

June 15

We're farmmg. What else can I say?

Stuff breaks, we fix 1t, 1t breaks again!

All 10 all, 1t's not too bad. We still need to get Colby's trailer moved, a road built to h1s new place, and a machine shed and pole barn built. Dee reminded me about the hired hand.

I'm starting to think she's right.

-)ennesy Raaum

July 5

Now we're haying. Makes for long, hot, boring days! We're moving the trailer next week.

July 12

The trailer move went really well. I'm glad we hired those guys to do it rather than doing it ourselves. We would have wrecked something for sure. Another thing Dee was right about.

start next week, in time to help with the building.

Sept. 1

Schools back in session. James is gone, Colby is gone, and Paul is starting college at DSU. Guess it's a good thing we hired that guy!

Sept. 15

August 1

Dee and Ann are getting excited about the weddtng. It's all they ever talk about.

Ocr. 15

We're going to start building the pole barn and machine shed next week. I called that friend of Dee's niece. He's a good hard worker. Good timing, he's looking for work. Said he can

I'm tired. The weather has turned cold early this year and as usual, I wasn't ready. We finally got the cows home from summer pasture today. They sure seemed happy to see that new

Impressions 13

pole barn.

Dee was nght about h1ring extra help to get that thing bu1lt. As Ills it took a week longer to build than I thought it should.

YET Will I HopE To be, in the ume that I have left, Everyth1ng I ever dreamed Of bemg m my ltfetime.

When I see my end approaching As sand through an hour glass, Materialism takes on a d1fferent Shade of color.

1 should remember to tell her she was right. she thmks I don't ltsten to her.

Oct. 18 Another long day, even longer now that they're getting shorter. There's so much you can only do in the day light, feeding livestock has to get done before sun up.

A realization more of hope and desire than belief That another world is waiting on the other side.

A desperate feeling of being locked in (Death holding the key) Which is steering me Toward my fate-my doom, my death.

I called James today to make sure he'd talked to his instructors about missing class for Colby's wedding.

It's finally sunk in what a b1g deal it is to be the best man for your brother.

He asked my adv1ce about h1s toast. I told rum Colby wouldn't m1nd if it was short, as long as u's si ncere. I also told him not to crack any JOkes his mother wouldn't ltke.

Yet, when or if I could escape -My body dies.

Is it a freedom, or an escape From the confines of my body?

Or a total death w1th no rebirth Into the realms of any other world?

Am I deserted? Do I cease to ex1st?

It's hard to believe that we have a kid old enough to get marned! I don't know why. Other people with 26year-old kids have grandkids and we're just getting the first one married off

Death would then be nothing.

-No black, no wh1te, no color, -A vast v01d of nothing.

Yet, less than nothingOblivion-suspended in Time for eternity.

Yet will r hope.

At this rate, all three of our boys will be gone and we'll still be working this damn farm with hired help!

-Barbara Schaan

Oct. 20 The wedding IS next week. Dee IS finally out looking for a dress! She took that crazy n1ece with to help. I hope the} have fun. With all the time she has to spend helpmg me around the place, Dee doesn't get many chances to have fun these days.

Ocr. 31 The wedding went well. Time to get back to work!

14 Impressions

Nov. 2

Nor the fiiSt ume - I'm lucky to be alive. Hauling hay bales today.

Weather turned on the way home from the field out at Richardton. Jackkmfed the damn trailer and wrecked one of the pick-ups. Scared the hell out of myself. When I finally got straight-

ened out and pulled over, I called Dee. I told her I Jove her. Guess I shouldn't have waited till then to tell her she was nght about getting a hired hand.

She told me to get my dumb old butt home so she could check me for brain damage. Cold ride with one window busted out. Good to be home. •

johanna Njos

S uMM ER BREEZE

In the deep valleys of the hand, The feelings of experience are sobering With each grain of dirt I collect.

The white sphere is gripped tightly, Thumb on bottom, Ring, middle, and index on top.

In the deep valleys of the hand, The emotions and fixations can be read By premature blisters tickling the leather glove.

My A2000 protecting me from light speed impact, Of the fiery globe of death Shooting through my delicate fingers.

In the deep valleys of the hand, The lumber hugs the palm lovingly.

Pine tar mixes perfectly with perspiration.

The wooden club grows warmer each second.

Anticipating the quick snap, The sweat begins to run.

In the deep valleys of the hand, The nerves have finally ended their epic journey.

My decision determines the fate of an athlete.

All eyes are entranced on the motion of my arms.

The ninety-nine mile per hour resolution Concluding with three fingers and an out.

-joel Sikes Impressions 15

TH E TRAdiTiON

By Amanda Taylor It was over. His life was over.

Lying on his bed, one single solitarytear trickled down his salty cheek.

The funeral, though beautiful with flowers of every blossoming shade could not brighten his weary day. He would have given up his last breath, walked a thousand miles on blistering coals just to bring her back for one more day. But there in her flowered dress, she was buried six feet under while the devil lies beneath her laughing like a baby being tickled.

It was a romance that had started in earnest at the age of six. An auburn-haired, freckle-faced girl with eyes as blue as the ocean, had moved there from the hills of Tennessee.

Over the years they grew close, and together they ran through the field fanaticizing about their lives together.

They indeed were victims of love at first sight. But like a freight train hitting a brick wall, it was all over. In exchange for the child the loving couple always wanted, her life was taken.

Unable to relive what was both the happiest and saddest day of his life, he reluctantly rolled out of bed.

Walking into the room of his son, he strolled to the crib and with watery eyes he looked down into the face of heaven itself. He looked up and whispered into the thick, musty air about him-'Why?' Unable to stand the suffocating silence any longer, he ran outside into the sheeting rain yelling at the top of his lungs-'Damn you, damn you for taking... ' and unable to finish, he plummeted to the ground, weeping.

Five years ago today, a man once terrorized with fear of moving on with his life, is now able to not think of her at least one minute of the day. For years, he had to tell himself to eat, sleep, and even breathe. But today was different. His son, now five years old and full of energy, had asked him to take him fishing. With a dumb-

16 Impressio11s

founded expression on his face, the boy grabbed his hand and Jured him outside. The sun, in all of its glory, sensed his anguish and did its best to blind him. He looked away and to the boy and as the sun shone brightly behind him, it almost looked as if the child were an angel. He indeed was.

Then he realized that he could no longer bask in the shadows, but he must live the life that his angel wanted.

He gave his son a reassuring nod

HARMONy

and headed toward his shed. For a minute or two he stared at the lock and couldn't remember putting the lock on his shed let alone the combination for it. He then turned around and beaded in the direction of his car in order to retrieve the crowbar in his trunk. Once he got the lock off his shed door, he slowly walked inside as if these steps were his very first.

Cobwebs and dust consumed the shed. He spotted his poles and tackle box in the comer and with watery

jackie Haugland

eyes he hurried to get them. Watery eyes from the dust of the shed or from the dust from h1s heart he did not know. But with a heaving breath, he blew off the dust and qUJcldy left.

He found his son wattmg for rum, lounging on the dewy grass beside his blue Oldsmobtle. Ready to go, he threw the poles and the tackle box in the trunk and proceeded to get in the car. A silent forty minute drive seemed to take forever and he welcomed the site of an old pond down the rusty dirt road with a feeling of anticipation, one which he had not felt in a long time indeed.

Pulling in by an old oak tree, he took the poles out of his trunk and watched as his son fiddled with his lure. He decided to sit on an old stump and rig the line up for the boy. He put on a big fat rughtcrawler and cast the line out for him. They must have sat there for about fifteen minutes before he caught one. He had seen bigger minnows m hts hfeume, but he exclaimed to him that it was the biggest fish he had ever seen. That made the boy happy. They sat there for about three hours before he got bored, and they decided to go home.

When they got home, a mysterious car was parked tn the driveway.

Unsure about what was going on, he told his son to wait in the car as he strolled cautiously to the house. At the table sat two business-like gentlemen with their expensive shoes and their big briefcases lookmg as if they had the world in their hands, like they were the Sav10r or somethmg.

One of the men thrust an affidavit at him saying that they were here to take rus son away. An explosive argument occurred about what and why they wanted to take hts son away. The yelling was so fierce that the boy ran as fast as he could mto the house. The minute the boy arrived, the conversation stopped. He was told to go to his room. The men whtspered in high voices. Finally, he had no choice but to retrieve his son and hand him over to the men in the suits. They were

I DoubT VERY MucH that I was born for you or that I'll die for you but if you don't have plans tonight call on me Strangers are warm to lie with and easy to lie to

-Theo Bohn

snickering inwardly with ev1l smurks on their faces. The boy was crymg and screaming- 'Daddy, where are they taking me?' And as they drove away he focused on the tiny hand as it waved and wondered if he would ever see it again. He hoped to see that little hand again because without him he had nothing left. Nothing.

As he walked back into his house, he heard the accusing voices in his mind repeatedly shout at him why he had not taken his son to school, and why he didn't buy him glasses for his eyes. He realized that he was selfish for keeping him here all by himself.

He didn't want to miss one single moment of his life. He didn't know better, or so he thought. He kept hearing them tell him over and over on how be failed at being a father, and he was being punished for ruming hts child's life and how his wife would've disowned him for not taking care of him properly. But he did love him. He devoted his entire life to him. He was all he bad. He was all he had left ... of her.

Days passed and soon a week had

gone by. He sat under the pale light of hts reading lamp crying, at the fact that he had lost everything in his life that meant anything to him. He had made his decision. He strolled to the kttchen, pulled out the bottom drawer of the buffet and pulled out a bottle of rat poison. He opened the bottle, poured himself a glass of water and then sat at the table and looked out the window, gazing at the sunset. At the time, it seemed to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The colors were brighter than ever imagined.

Suddenly, his body started to take the effect of the poison. He began to vomit and he fell to the floor and went mto convulsiOns. Right before he d1ed he thought to himself, 'now we can be together' and then a small trickle of blood came from his mouth, and he basked in his happiness.

When the men in the ugly suits told the once little auburn-haired boy some eighteen years later what had happened to his father and his mother, he too decided that he wanted to be with his family once again. And so the tradition continues. •

Impressions 17

GREAT BAlls of FiRE

By Kalen Ost I see you laying on my bed, just as you see me. I see you trying to discreelly hide the erectness of your nipples, as you neglected to wear a bra today, and in the last five minutes have seriously struted to regret that decision.

I keep trying to shift, as ÂŁO not show my own erectness, which seems to grow the more I try to hide it; truly one of life's ironies.

Leaning over to kiss you and to palm the sides of your waist, the only thought that comes to me is how I really don't care for you. A man greater than me simply referred to women as an orifice. I think that is what your pur-

pose is tonight.

No love, no finding a soul mate, no feeding my depleted soul with the revitalizing completeness of love. There is no greater purpose here other than a simple orgasm, a door opening, someone saying goodnight, the other person not responding, and then the nonresponder going to sleep.

Don't feel bad, on any other rught I might be wiWng to engage in the foolishness of love. I might find what you have to say interesting and funny and witty and you might make me more than what I could be alone.

But, unfortunately my dear, this

isn't going to happen tonight. Instead I have but two requests, two little suggestions, almost demands, for if they are not met it will certainly hasten your departure.

First and foremost, please don't do anything to make me love you lonight.

I don't think my heart could take that.

He just doesn't understand love anymore. I think the analogy is frost on a soft flower, killing it in its prime.

Secondly, before I need to replace a zipper, play with my great balls of fire. •

Laureen Evans 18 Impressions

PliobiAs

By Kalen Ost When I think of a phobia, I think of something having complete control over a person to the point where he or she cannot function. I do not know if I have a phobia. I suspect that I might. I know it has no name, but I know that whatever it is, phobia or not, it afflicts me. For the sake of this writing piece, we will call it a phobia with no name.

At only one point in my life can I recall being rendered to the point of having no control over my life. To

define it more, I was completely lost in my own world, to the point where the real world faded away from sight.

It was because of love, and that love leaving me, after I was to a point where I believed that I could count on it always being there. I can see in my mind Dr. Wheeler grimacing.

She appealed to me on different levels. In her I found someone that made me happy, a word that simply cannot define how I was, yet sums it up

SETTiNG SuN The Setting sun looks me in the face I see a past and a new beginning As the mind rambles off in space.

The memories keep corning at the speed of light where will they stop, I don't know?

But as they continue to fly past I keep seeing his face.

Do you remember, is what my mind is asking.

But the question is moot., I feel like I'm falling and don't have a chute.

The pictures suddenly stop.

But there he stands, as he always did, a smile on his face, with no malice in his mind.

But he is gone and the picture is no longer just inside.

-Scott Anton

lie Wh

OcJrags h.

IS

completely and hopelessly.

I found someone that was intellectually challenging. Someone that could look at me and diagnose what was wrong yet could never figure out why I was smiling, when her and I were alone. She felt right when I would bold her. Wrapped around each other on a couch watching TV was all I wanted for the rest of my life.

She was everything I wanted, everything I needed, everything I didn't know I could have. It was her smile that I thought about when I woke up in the morning. It was her breathing peacefully that I wanted when I went to sleep each night. "I thank God that he let me lay beside you for a moment that lives on" comes to mind. I suppose that is why to this day I still hate sleeping. There is an emptiness that comes with sleeping alone that I have not yet conquered.

And then, instead of being the only one for miles and miles except for me and my simple smile, it was done.

Where I once bad complete fulfillment in my life now held nothing for me. I struggled to keep my head above the ocean of despair that I found myself in.

I failed. I couldn' t escape that which was all encompassing. Booze did nothing but make me realize how much of a lie it had all been. Drugs only accentuated the points that booze was making. I didn't enjoy captaining my yellow submarine. My tambourine man only wanted to tell me things that I didn't want to hear.

I thought I was a Cat Stephens song. If she wanted to leave, I hoped she would take care. I hoped she would make a lot of friends out there. I couldn't get by on a smile. Baby I loved you.

It is now coming up on two years

feet,

Impressions 19

since my life that could have been and my hfe that IS have parted ways. And I suppose that is my phobta without a name. I am too afraid to let go of my past. I do not know 1f they have a cute name for it like they have for a fear of flutes. Incidentally, that is autophobia.

My past is my future, and my future is that which haunts me.

Psychiatrists have told me that it is easier to grip to the past instead of moving on with one's life. Personally I would like to dispute that. There is a solitary suffering, the pushing away of something that might alter the future.

Who'll stop the ram? IfCCR didn't know, my guess is that no one knows.

My argument for living the way I do is stmply because I will die. It doesn't matter if I ltve in the future, live in the past, or if I take Garth's advice and live in the now; I'm dead.

We'd be lucky to get out of this life alive. Ain't that some shit.

This piece is about phobias. Do not miss the point of what I'm saying.

Quite simply, I'm terrified of emotional attachment. I'm terrified of finding someone that (insert 90's cliche giggle here) completes me. I'm terrified of finding someone that could sweep me away into a fairytale ending. I'm afraid of being happy again. More than that, I'm afraid that when I righted my ship of life, it would not be permanent. I'm a realist in that chances are it JUSt couldn't work, and that I wouldn't be ready for it not to. rm temfied of hearing another song and thtnking of all the good times that come wtth it, looking around, and seetng that it is nothing more than my past. I'm not ready for that cold day in July.

I don't know if I'm willing to

20 Impressio11s

echo Cindy when I tell someone that what I really meant to say is that I'm dying here inside, and I IDJSS you more each day, and there's not a mght I haven't cried and baby here's the truth: I'm still in love with you.

One of my friends was empathetic. He knew it was foolish to try to help me, but I couldn't stop him from speaking. Eddie told me about how he

felt when he had a similar experience.

When love left him be cried out to the world, "I know some day you'll have a beautiful life, I know you' II be a star in someone else's sky. But why? Why? Can't it be mine?"

And so nothing changes, everything is gray, everything is perfect. For you; for me. This is my phobia without a name that I cling so tightly to. •

No REGRETs She sat nervously in the chair.

The plastic squeaked underneath her body as she shifted around finding no comfortable position.

The man walked in and greeted Her with a warm smile, but she Refused to return it.

He brought the arrangement of tools out of the drawer and set them on a nearby desk. He placed the needle in hand and the pain began. She twitched some, but the pain slowly diminished.

When he was done, she stared in awe, amazed at what she had just done. She left feeling a bit tougher and while walktng past an old man he not1ced the tattoo neatly etched on her ankle and wh1spered under hts breath, "Damn kids."

-Kim Halvorson

Book NAzi

By Laureen Evans During the spring vacation in Arizona, Jean and her daughter-inlaw, Nora, decided to spend an afternoon antique shopping in the "Mecca" of Glendale. The stores promised to have fantastic antiques and bargains. As they walked and shopped they showed Nora's young daughter, Sabrina, many great pieces they would love to add to their collections.

As they rounded the comer of the antique square they noticed a shop across the street with racks of used books set out on the sidewalk. Neither of them could resist the appeal of

finding a great used book, so they crossed the street and began to sort through the titles. The owner stood at the doorway of the shop shifting from foot to foot and then datting in and out of the dark opening. A customer walked up to the door and inquired if he could go in to look around. The owner turned and barked at him, " I don't need any more browsers and I'm not open inside anyway. We are trying to rearrange the books." Nora and her mother-in-law looked at each other in disbelief. The customer walked away shaking his head.

The book of Victorian Paper

jordan Merkel

Dolls that Jean picked up had a fiftycent sticker on it. She thought she had seen a sign that said, "Books $2.00."

Looking at the book, Jean wondered which price could be the right one.

She thought the book would be fun for Sabrina to have, for fifty-cents. Nora wondered about some of the other prices, also. They wandered among the books picking up one or two interesting titles. When the shopkeeper stepped back outside, Jean decided to ask him about the price of the Victorian Paper Dolls book. So she asked the rude shopkeeper if the Paper Doll book cost fifty-cents or two dollars? He said it was two dollars, so Jean pointed out the fifty-cent sticker. He grabbed the book out of her hands and said, "No, it's two dollars and you have just forfeited your chance to buy this book!"

In shocked surprise the woman quickly retorted, "It certainly won't break my heart." That remark really upset him. He stomped up the steps to the shop and said, "Just get out of here! Put your stuff down and just leave!" He went inside and slammed the door to the shop. Jean and Nora burst into a fit of laughter. What a ridiculous scene he made. What a nut.

They began calling him the "Book Nazi."

Still laughing the two women and the confused little gjrl walked to the shop next door. They entered the little stamp store and the conversation quickly turned to the Book Nazi next door. When a person runs into someone like that it seemed natural to ask about him. How could anyone stay in business with an attitude like that, they wondered?

Apparently be did crazy things like that all the time. One of the ladies they talked with said she went to the bookstore one day looking for a used Boy Scout manual. The on-gentleman told her that he had several books in a

Impressions

21

NoRT~ DAkoTA ...

How CAN You LivE T~ERE? Have you heard the s1lence, the complete peace of being nowhere?

The snowflakes big and soft Silencing everyth1ng in the darkness.

Seeing in the darkness only the stars glowing.

Until that silence surrounds you you don't know complete peace.

-Alexia Retmer

22

Impressions

large stack in the comer but he didn't have time to look through the stack and bes1des, "Those Boy Scout manuals are too good to sell to ordmary people." No one could figure out who could be an un-ordinary person, and what they would want with a used Boy Scout manual? Fits of laughter couJd be heard outside the door after they heard that story. Still, how could he make any money if he didn't want customers and didn't want to sell books?

As it turned out an older fellow walked into the stamp store and cleared up the mystery. The women had been asking 1f anyone ever caJled the fire department, smce the shop apparently overflowed with clutter and dust. The fire department and the city council tried to do somethmg once, but 1t appears that they were scared to death of him. The older fellow said, "You call h1m the 'Book Nazi?' I think that IS a good name for him. Many years ago when he was a young man, maybe m his late twenties, he worked in the shop with his dad. His parents opened the shop back in the forty's. Times were always tough and the old father was a bit of a tyrant. The 'Book Nazi' fell off a huge stack of books while trying to reach one of those big dictionaries like they have at libraries. They say he knocked himself out and his father refused to take h1m to the hospital. He suffered some kmd of brain trauma and sat around for months w1th a huge swollen head. He has been strange ever since. Apparently he mhented a great deal of money from h1s father and lives on that but keeps the shop opened because that is what he always has done. He gets so v1olent sometimes, the police have to be called but they never do anythmg. They just g1ve him a warnmg and he JUSt goes on as usual."

LET'S

PlAy

Everyone thinks your so strong So you just play along.

Until one day when you think you have had enough Playing along. being strong.

What is 1t really like to be the fragile person That you really are? You can not even begin to Figure it out. You have always had to be the strong one.

No one to ever pick you up when you falJ. You hang your head, when no one 1s watching.

Hide your tears, so you do not get anyone's sorrows.

No one ever cared. Why should they start now?

Your life IS already breaded enough Without adding another twist.

A part of you wants someone to care, but yet You're scared, because you have never taken the dare.

So again you play along, Letting everyone think you're so strong. When all you really Wanted was to belong.

-julie Buckman

Everyone looked in awe and then after some chatter and d1scuss1on they wandered off to finish the1r shoppmg.

Walking back in front of the bookstore, Jean and her daughter in-law and little Sabrina noticed the "Book

Nazt" standing in the doorway to h1s shop and people browsing through the books. Everything looked back to normal. •

Impressions 23

Wliy I GivE WoMEN A BAd NAME WHEN h CoMES TO CARS

By MarC)' Fix My friend Shelly is laughing hysterically. We are sitting in a bar and she is calling people over to hear the story; again. I feel like I've told thjs story a hundred times, and I'm in no mood to relive the whole ridiculous episode. But Shelly is still laughing and now I have an audience; there isn't a Sayler alive that can resist story hour with an audience.

Shelly is trying to control herself while explaining how she heard the story in the first place.

"OK, Marcy just walked in. and she's like twenty minutes late. So I say, 'What the heck took you so long?' All she can say JS that she couldn't figure out how to get the gas cap open on this 'oaner car she's driving. After I give her grief for being a complete car iiliot, I realize what she's just said and ask why she's driving a loaner. She says her car is in the shop. So of course I have to ask what the problem is, and she says: 'The hinges are being replaced so the door won't fall off again.' Of course I think she's joking and make her tell me about the door falling off the first time. OK Marcy, tell us about your week from Hell."

Shelly has done a pretty good job with her little introduction. The people congregated around our table are caught between giggling at the mere idea of a car door falling off, and waiting for me to explain what I had done to make it happen.

I take a deep breath and shake my head; I can't believe I'm telling this story again.

"OK, it all started because my boss thought she deserved a week off of work to see her husband who is an over the road truck driver. She asks me if I'll hold down the fon at the secretarial service.

Generally all I have to do ifl work in the office is answer phones, so it's a good place to get homework done. I said sure, what could possibly go wrong?"

At this point, almost everyone is

24 Impressions

laughing already. Asking what could possibly go wrong is asking for trouble, and they all know it.

I take a drink of my beer in an effort to let the anticipation build. It works; everyone is staring at me and waiting for me to continue.

"So, right away the first day things start to slide. There's another secretary that's supposed to cover the morrungs while I'm in class. When I get there at 1:00 she has three jobs waiting for me.

She hasn't even started them. They aren't hard jobs, just typing but she's lazy. Of course she's told the people that the work will be ready in the morning, so I have to get them done that afternoon. Just my luck, the phones rings off

the hook all afternoon. I end up staying late just to catch up. By the time I get home I'm exhausted, grouchy and looking forward to an evening of homework that I need to get on the Internet for and as usual, my connection is down. I'm consoled by the idea that Monday is over and the rest of the week can only get better."

I stop my recital long enough to take another swig of beer and let my last comment take shape in my listeners' imagination. They're smiling knowingly.

"I don't have as many classes on Tuesday so I get to work a little earlier.

It's the same thing all over again. By Wednesday I'm tempted to call my boss

Silly HAbiT I sit And stare Poking at my nose.

In my mind You yell at me.

A silly habit, I do it anyway Poking at my nose.

It's a silly habit To leave the light on Waiting for you Blinding light Shilling in the mirror.

Wrule l sit and stare Poking at my nose.

-Alexia Renner

large stack in the corner but he didn't have ttme to look through the stack and besides, "Those Boy Scout manuals are too good to sell to ordinary people." No one could figure out who could be an un-ordinary person, and what they would want with a used Boy Scout manual? Fits of laughter could be heard outside the door after they heard that story. Still, how could he make any money if he didn't want customers and didn't want to sell books?

As it turned out an older fellow walked into the stamp store and cleared up the mystery. The women had been asking if anyone ever called the fire department, since the shop apparently overflowed with clutter and dust. The fire department and the city council tried to do somethmg once, but it appears that they were scared to death of htm. The older fellow said, "You call htm the 'Book Nazi?' I think that ts a good name for him. Many years ago when he was a young man, maybe tn hts late twenties, he worked in the shop with his dad. His parents opened the shop back in the forty's. Times were always tough and the old father was a bit of a tyrant. The 'Book Nazi' fell off a huge stack of books while trying to reach one of those big dictionaries like they have at libraries. They say he knocked himself out and his father refused to take him to the hospital. He suffered some ktnd of brain trauma and sat around for months wtth a huge swollen head. He has been strange ever since. Apparently he tnhented a great deal of money from rus father and lives on that but keeps the shop opened because that ts what he always has done. He gets so vtolent sometimes, the police have to be called but they never do anything. They JUSt give him a warning and he just goes on as usual."

Everyone thinks your so strong So you just play along.

Until one day when you think you have had enough Playing along, being strong.

What is it really like to be the fragile person That you really are? You can not even begin to Figure it oul. You have always had to be the strong one.

No one to ever pick you up when you faJJ. You hang your head, when no one is watching.

Hide your tears, so you do not get anyone's sorrows.

No one ever cared. Why should they start now?

Your hfe IS already breaded enough Without adding another twist.

A part of you wants someone to care, but yet You're scared, because you have never taken the dare.

So again you play along, Letting everyone think you're so strong. When all you really Wanted was to belong.

-julie Buckman

Everyone looked tn awe and then after some chatter and dtscusston they wandered off to finish their shopping.

Walking back in front of the bookstore, Jean and her daughter 1n-law and little Sabrina noticed the "Book

Nazi" stand1ng m the doon1.ay to his shop and people browsing through the books. Everything looked back to normal. •

Impressions 23

Impressions 25

home from her vacation, it's that bad.

I'm actually digging through the employment files trying to find a temp for someone. I don't know anything about this part of the business and my boss swore I wouldn't have to deal with it. We actually end up with so many temp jobs that week, I skip class on Friday to fill one of them myself.

Friday morning dawns warm and sunny. I'm in a jovial mood. It's Friday, everything is under control at the office, and the boss is on her way home. I head to the Fire Department.

I've helped them out around the office in the past. They're relaxed and fun to work with. It's going to be a good day.

I jump out of my car and swing the door behind me as I rush toward the building. Then I hear it. The door doesn't give the satisfying slamming sound it usually does. Instead it sort of clunks. I stop dead in my tracks. That can't be good. I slowly tum around.

My car door is just hanging there.

Fighting back tears, and an urge to start screaming, I return to the car. It looks like there are two hinges, and the top one is broken. The door is

Pillow I want to be the pillow You hold close to your heart.

I want to be your comfort, As you lie down to sleep.

I want to be the support For all of your dreams.

I want to be held when you're scared And cried on when you're sad.

I want to be the one you wake up to And never want to leave.

-Tara Deseth

26 Impressious

hanging by the bottom hinge. I lift the door and kind of set it back in place. It actually seems secure. I calmly walk into the building and put a call into my favorite mechanic. This guy knows me. He knows what I mean when I say, ' well, the thingamajig is making noise again; not the old noise, a new noise.'

At flrst he doesn't believe me.

'What do you mean your car door fell off.?'

So I ask him how I could possibly rephrase the sentence, 'Hi Don, this is Marcy Sayler, my car door fell off."

Then he starts laughing. When I don' t laugh with rum he calmly asks if the car is drivable. Like a complete idiot, I say, 'I guess.'

I have to leave the job to take my car to the shop. Don, always the professional, informs me that my car door has fallen off. After he stops laughing, and calling the other guys to come look, he tells me there is nothing he can do about it. I need to go to a body shop.

So, back in the passenger door I go, trying not to give the mechanics a show with my skirt hiked up to my waist, and head to a body shop.

The guy at the body shop says, 'What do you mean your car door fell off.?'

Rather than say anything, and risk him not helping me, I walk out to the car and show him. After he stops laughing, he asks me how I let this happen.

I said, ' Is this something I should get checked every so often? Like when I get the oil changed, should I tell the mechanic to check the hinges?'

Body shop guy doesn't think I'm funny. He says, 'It has to have been making noise and sticking pretty bad."

Now he's got me. It had been sticking, and I had been ignoring it. I finally say, 'Well, if it started making noise, I probably just turned the stereo up.' That did it; I got this lecture about paying attentiOn to what my car

is trying to tell me. As if that hunk of metal had been crying for help and I had let it down.

Well, he fixed my door. He shook his head and tsk, tsked the whole time.

When I finally went to leave he told me to turn the stereo down."

My audience is laughing hysterically. Shelly is wiping tears from her eyes. I'm glad my week from Hell could bring so much joy to so many lives. I finish my beer and start for the bar to get another.

"Hey, wait a minute," someone says, "if this all happened a while ago, why are you driving a loaner tonight?"

'The doors started to stick again last week. I turned the stereo down, and sure enough, the thingamajig was making a new noise."•

BAlANCE Srudy

Tl-tE SuN 51-tiNES Snow covered crested wheaL Waves Cover fields; Blankets, clouds, Or breasts ...

Drifting snow.

Fragile wings FloaLing on a soft Morning wind.

-Theo Bohn

Cheryl Leach Impressions 27

TliE ST. TuRkEy's DAy MASSACRE By joel Sikes Tommy Blake was a stmple man.

All of the arguments and the constant btck.ering over a stupid football game, or a useless carvmg kntfe were behtnd htm. The one day of hell this November has finally concluded and he could now move on to the rest of his life. All he ever wanted in life was a nice and quiet holiday weekend. All he ever received was a battle royal between his Grandmother and his Father over issues that should have been solved when Gerald Ford was President. Old "Dad" still hasn't forgiven the economy for dnvmg the pnce of silver down whtle "granny' tells htm that he should have sold hts stuptd stlver dollar collection whtle he was sttll a kid.

Last Thursday, Tommy and hts v.ife Gina arrived at hts parents place at around noon. The typical Dallas Cowboy/ Detroit Lion football game was about to start when all of a sudden there was a crash from the kttchen. Tommy hurdles over the couch to see the damage in the kitchen. As he entered he slipped and fell through a purple pool of cru~hed ooze that used to be known as cranberry sauce and slid into a corner leg of the dining room table that also

Tommy, he was embarrassed to see the whole clan of Blakes surroundmg him with looks of horror. Gina had the expression of JUSt watching the exorcist in her eyes. Tommy just could not come up with a vahd explanation of the words that exploded from his mouth. He thought about faking a seizure but knew that wouldn't work because he already tried it at the Fourth of July picnic. All Tommy

Deluxe Limited Edition carving knife.

Tommy's ulcer was really working tum over at the sight of that relic of Satan lying on the table. Tommy could see the metamorphosis takmg place with his five foot nine, a hundred and fifty pound mild mannered father. The eyes in his head rolling back, the nerves in his neck tensing out, and the grit of his teeth as he gripped that talisman of the apocalypse.

When the switch was turned on, the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees. A cool breeze flew through everyone in the room.

Tommy could hear the sound of thirty chainsaws coming from the direcuon of his dad. Everyone at the table held a firm grip on the table as dad guided the possessed limited edition tool of death with both hands onto the peacefulJy resting bird.

Tommy closed his eyes as chunks of precious white meat flew across the table like a meteor shower. After what seemed to be forever the horrifying sound abruptly stopped. Before he opened hts eyes, Tommy put a voodoo curse on that bastardly tool.

Tommy was surprised to discover that the meat was

Cmdy Makelky totally stripped from the temporarily damaged his KNOT HOME bird cleanly, he was not testicular fortitude. In a could do was get up, wtpe off, and JUSt surpnsed to fwd all of it in a perfect votce that would have made Mtchael walk away. six feet radius around the table. So Jackson proud, Tomm)' gave a sweet five-minute sermon of how God had When it was time for dinner, everybegan the 35th annual Thanksgtvmg one roamed to the dtnner table anttcimeat hunt at the Blake's house. placed a curse on him and how he wtshed a truck would JUSt take care of Tommy could remember as a ktd how pating the annual battle of man versus his family. much torture this was and wondered machine, the Dadinator and the thtrty five year old Black and Decker When the demon!> had finally left what kind of mental illness his father :z8 Impressions

SolAcE like these There is no JOY or minh withtn selfish seas

There is a quiet place deep tnside The eye of the storm a place to hide In this comer I find my peace My true self I am able to release Comfort is here to wipe away The loneliness that fills my days I crawl within to gather some rest So that I may come out and be the best Now I am strong, ready to win Tickled by fancy, temptation and sin Laughter and love, they are the same Better than power, riches or fame I care not for things

I crave the love of a man as strong as me A love that was, is and the one to be Solace found us and granted us a wish Served to us upon a well oiled dish The nectar of the gods cannot compare To the sweet kisses of a lover who is so rare The scales have fallen from my eyes There you are before me, my delectable surpnse I melted your heart once made of stone No longer needing to live life alone Solace found us and made us one

-Patty Snyder had for keeping it. All through dinner Tommy kept glancing at that knife.

About halfway through dessert, Tommy had decided that he was going to destroy this holiday demon.

With the last of his pumpkin pie swallowed and two extra strength p11ls of antacid chasing it, Tommy calmly proceeded over to the head of the table. Making sure that his father was not looking he placed his hand on the knife. With the other hand, Tommy unplugged the carnage that fueled his temper for all of these years and walked slowly outside.

As Tommy removed the lid of the trashcan, he heard a choir of angels singing in the distance. His anger for

this machine finally took over and he muttered these final words before its long overdue death. " I damn thee for the thirty five years of holiday meals that you have cursed upon thyself. I hope you die a slow and painful death in thy plane of Hades. I also wish that the gender challenged Black and Decker brothers feel the wrong end of a spoon. In the name of thee Tommy Blake ...... Amen."

As the machine plunged into the empty trashcan explodmg, into a rrullion pieces, Tommy felt the weight of the world lift off of him. He also couldn't remember ever having a day without stress like this in his life. With that thought spinning feverishly in his

mind, Tommy finally passed out from his intense stress in front of the trashcan.

When Tommy finally woke up, three days had passed. The doctors told him to take a weeks vacation from work and to remember to take his anti-anxiety medication. All Tommy could think of was his long awaited victory over the one thing that has cursed his family each and every holiday season.

He promised himself and his family that he would never let his temper get the best of him again. Next year, Tommy had to figure out a way to stop the next door neighbor's annual display of nuclear powered Christmas yard decorations. •

Impressions 29

TiME All in time Out of time Ask for time Give time Tlme heals Time will tell End of time Beginning of time Eternal time No time Some time Any time Time-an enemy Time-a friend Due time Greenwich Mean Time Time holds Time marches on The future, the present The past Time-the intangible Try to grasp it in your hand And it falls like sand Through an hourglass Time to laugh Time to cry Time to Live Time to die Time to remember Time to forget Time to be angry Time to forgive Taking time Time for prayer Time for leisure Time for work Time for play Time for dinner All alone When someone's there Alone in time Together in time Racing through time Decades, centuries Eons, eras Sign of the time What is time Time doesn't exist It's a measurement.

-Barbara Schaan 30 Impressions

AdvENTURES WiTH FiRE

By Tara Deseth As any young child does, I tended to get into quite a bit of trouble. I would have been a perfect angel had my brother not been around to lead me into temptation.

1 had, and still have, a particular fascination with fire.

At the age of three my brother and I managed to light an entire row of trees on fire while we were pretending to have a campfire in our backyard. I would say it was a good thmg my mother came home on tlme. but after the spanking I rccei ved, I am not so sure.

The next mcident with fire came a few years after that.

My brother and I were m our shed one day and decided to have a candle lit supper with some friends. One would have to know the condition of this shed to realize how incredibly stup1d this idea really was. There were spilled paint cans on the shelves, oil and gas container!> spilled on the floor, and other h1ghly flammable objects scattered across the room.

One of the candles tipped over as we were reaching across the table, setung a patch of the floor on fire. Jesse

and I jumped up and stomped it out with our foot before it spread, but had we not caught it in time, we would have blown up the entire block. Once again the spanking was one that will not be forgotten.

I am sorry to say that I have yet to learn my lesson. One of my favorite games of all ttme IS a game my friends and I hke to call "fue ball." It reqUJres a foam rubber ball, a can of WD-40, and some matches. We open up the rubber ball and sttck the WD-40 ms1de. The bravest one lights the match near the WD-40, wh1ch sets the ball on fue. We then kick the fiery ball down the sidewalk filled with dry grass and leaves, while singing "goodness gracious great balls of fire." A couple of people have to run behind stomping out the small fire trails it leaves behmd. Despite all of my incidents with fire, I believe I will probably continue to play "fire ball" and will find ways to play with fue unttll'm all burnt out. •

Tanya McGrady Impressions 31

GRANdMA ANd FAT E TEAM

Up

By Cory Nuemiller I am a fmn believer in fate. To this day, I believe fate had something to do with June 22, 1994. I know what you're thinking. You are thinking "Wasn't that game seven of the NBA Finals between New York and Houston?" The answer is yes, but let's get back on track. That was the day Grandma turned our college party house on its side.

College had been over for better than a month, but I remained living with those renegades," as my dad called them, for the summer. It's pecultar, but that's the same thing the Bismarck Police Department called us.

The day started out normal.

Around noonish, I rolled out of bed ready to face the day. The night before had been a long one. The rodeo was in town and I had been bucked off, stomped, and kicked, and I wasn't even a contestant. That was one heck of a party. Anyways, after close exammarion of my clock, I realized it was stilJ a lmle too early to be out of bed, sol crawled back tn. I do believe this is when fate started to kick in. Around the same time, my Grandma, who lived only about twenty blocks away, found that her car wouldn't start.

Immediately, she ran for the phone and called me.

As my dreams were just starting to lose their G rating, the phone rang.

I rolled over in bed and yelled "Is anybody going to get that?" No answer. "Me neither," I mumbled.

Once again, fate. Had one of my lazy, good-for-nothing roommates answered it, we probably would have missed all the excttement.

Grandma, apparently thinking I was off working (yeah, right) decided she would wait unttl that night to call me. Around two o'clock, I rolled over again, looked at my clock, and decided it was a bit early to be worrying about the day and went back to sleep.

Before I could get my full thtrteen

32 Impressions

hours of sleep, at around seven that evening, there was a pounding on the door. Stumbling out of bed, I made my way to the door. Just outside the door was an attractive looking young lady by the name of Emmy Lou. Unfortunately, and I do blame fate for giving him looks instead of me, she was here for one of my roommates. I pointed the way to his room.

"I don'tthmk he's out of bed yet."

"That's all right," she said in a low, husky voice. "I'll wake him."

TH E

About that time, Grandma, deciding that I should be home from work for the day, called again. Since I was already awake, I figured I would answer it.

"Hello."

"Is Cory there?" she asked.

Not knowing who I was talking to, I responded like I usualJy do when somebody asks for me.

"He's out on the deck making out with some girl right now. Can I take a message?"

RobiN s

The robins were drunk As they flew to the south.

Far from the north they came.

Plucking cherries and bugs Left hanging from trees.

Sucking the juices and Spinmng and twirlmg Flying so free.

Those robins were eating The life giving stuff Buzzing around looking silly and tuff.

Watching the birds Staff thetr teeny little bellies Each year with the beer Brewed from cherries and buggies We laugh at the sight.

The robms were drunk Tightly fueled with the brew.

They flew to the south Dipping up and then down Turning left and sharp right.

To return in the spring Then quite sober they fly To pluck cherries and bugs.

-Laureen Evans

At this point, I heard a loud gasp followed by a click. "Wow!" I thought. "Nobody has ever believed that story before." Then I went back to bed.

About this time another one of my roommates got up. To protect the innocent, I will just say that his name was William Greggory Starks III. Bill started stumbling around the house looking for breakfast. Usually he wasn't up early enough to eat breakfast, but for some odd reason, say fate, he was up by seven that evening, getting ready to face the day. Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door that shook the walls of the house. Bill, stilJ groggy, made his way to the door and opened it. Outside was an elderly lady, covered in sweat, her loafers still smoking from the twenty block run.

"Where is she?" Granny sneered.

Bill, not knowing exactly who "she" was, or the elderly lady for that

matter, tried to do some quick thinking, but to no avail. Some folks just can't think early in the morning.

"Who's she?"

"The young lady who is trolluping around with my grandson!"

Since there was only one guy in the house who had a girlfriend, Bill put two and two together and ended up coming up with five. He pointed towards Jack's room.

"They're probably in there."

Grandma went stomping through our kitchen, through the living room, and up to the door of Jack's room.

Inside was Jack, and of course Emmy Lou. "Ma'am," Bill said. "I wouldn't go in there if I was you."

"Well your not me," Grandma shot back. "And get a hair cut!"

With that, Grandma threw open ¡ the door, to find Jack and Emmy Lou engaged in some lip suction.

"Good Heavens! You little hussy," Grandma shrieked. "Not only are you corrupting my grandson, you're fooling around with his roommate!"

Grandma ran up to poor Emmy Lou, who had not a clue what was going on, grabbed her by the ear, and led her out of the room.

"You need some church young lady. Right now!"

I never saw Emmy Lou again, but Jack told me that she talked to him again once the following year. She told him the service was three hours long, with hundreds of Amens. She also told him, I'm not sure of the exact words, but something along the lines of drop dead.

"That's all right," Jim told me. "I don't think we were meant for each other."

"Fate," I assured him. •

BeauBinek Impressions 33

34 Impressions

FoR EvERY TuRN, Tl-tERE is A SEASON

By Tammy Simniot1iw My generation of women has been blessed, as well as cursed, with being granted society's permission to work outside the borne in various occupauons of our own choosing. In these modem times, some women who are well established m the work place are also leavmg tt to stay home to raise their children in a more handson manner. So the choice is ours-be a "stay-at-home mom" or a "working mom." At face value, it doesn't sound like such a big deal. Enter guilt, financial secunty, self-esteem, the psychologtcal and social well-being of the chtldren, and the biggest factor of all-- "Mom's" sanity.

I've been fortunate to have had the opportunity to be both a stay-athome mom and, later, a working mom with a full-time job outs1de the home.

There are multitudes of studies that have been conducted to examine the effects of each condition on family dynamics. The analysis I've done is rather tnconclusive as to which situation left the children and their parents in the sanest state.

I worked full time as a secretary for three years prior to the arrival of the first of my three children. From the time that my first child was born until the last child was four years of age, I was a stay-at-home mom-a span of twelve years. I reentered the workforce nine years ago. If you were to ask me wh1ch Situation was better for me and for my family, I wouldn't be able to say that one situation, as a whole, was better than the other. I can only say that parts of each situation were good and parts were less than favorable.

The most obvious advantage of not working away from home IS the amount of time I could dedicate to the children each day. I was able to expenence firsthand every accompltshment and childhood tragedy that occurred on a moment-by-moment

basis. I developed a strong bond with my children and it was difficult for me to leave them even for short periods of time. I was able to jump-start my children's education by having the time to teach them the1r letters, numbers, colors, art, songs, and various other skills before they set foot in a classroom. I wanted them to start their school experience feeling smart. Friends working away from home had frantic episodes of trying to get children awake, dressed, fed, and to daycare in time to report to work by 8:00 a.m.

five days a week. We had long, leisurely days. Our summer afternoons were spent fishing for minnows in a nearby creek or swimming at the town pool. I was very protective. I didn't trust the teenage lifeguards to watch carefully enough that my children wouldn't drown. Until they were competent swimmers in deep water, I had the luxury of spending afternoons sunbathing and watching vigilantly while my children swam.

So it was that the days went until years had gone by. I was a dedicated

This morning she planted some seedlings, The smell of the earth on her clothes.

This promise of spring that she nurtures, Does she see how widely she sows?

This evening she harvested blossoms, The colors enhanced by her eyes.

This bounty of autumn she plunders, Will my heart be part of the prize?

-Ken Haught

Impressions 35

mother ra1sing my children in a tranquil and safe environment. ll all sounds so pleasant and wholesome for the family; in many ways it truly was.

But in being so devoted, I gave up a part of myself. After a time, I began to feel restless and unfulfilled. I lost employment skills and worried that if I were called upon to help support my fam1ly, I would not be able to do so.

The children had limited interacuon with other children. I had prepared them for school academically, but did not prepare them well enough socially. My eldest son's Kindergarten teacher reported to me that my son experienced separation anxiety. My second oldest child, another son, also found it overwhelming at first to adJUSt to school and all of the new acquatntances. In time, both ch1ldren adJusted, but the transition wasn't smooth.

My youngest child was four years old when I went back to work fulltime. I was terribly worried that her daycare provider wouldn't care for her properly. While the first daycare provider didn't work out, the second one we tried was magic for my daughter, who thrived in the daycare sett1 ng.

The tnteraction with other adults and children afforded through the daycare setttng had definitely prepared this child socially for her school years.

She skipped into her Kindergarten classroom on her first day of school with a wide smile and great sense of adventure. She was also prepared academically, but not solely due to my efforts. After I became rushed and hurried w1th a full time JOb, my husband nottced that I wasn't teachtng my daughter as much as I had taught her older brothers. So he began working with her to get her scholarly skills up to par with where he thought they should be. This father-daughter interaction would never have occurred while I \\!as a sray-at-home mom. The slackenmg of the bonds on my part were tightened on the other end wnh the chtldren 's father. It was a loss to me, but I soon realized just how vatu-

36 Impressions

Emptiness and loneliness It's what I feet after the storm If I could swim To the bottom of the ocean I've cried I would be among the most beautiful creatures That God has created He created you and me and everyone else But there's something about the harmless, peaceful fish They seem so happy and content with their lives I somehow envy the fish I want to be happy like them Beautiful like them Adored I feel amongst the ugly creatures Maybe I am fortunate to feel a part of this group The pretty ones are the ones spotted first They don't have much to hide Vulnerable

able the experience was for my husband and children.

My own social life was devoid of stimulation as well during my stay-athome years. I had an underlying, ever-present loneliness during that period in my life. The primary topic of discussions I had With my husband or any other adult centered on the children. I felt restless every year when late August came around and my sons went off to school. I feJt that the world was leaving me behind.

Once I reentered the workforce, my husband was able to leave a demanding job that he was very unhappy with and take a lower paying job. My husband has had to learn to help with household chores that he never touched when I was home full time. I feel less taken for granted now that he has a realizauon of what it takes to keep a household running smoothly. Workmg outs1de the home

is d1fficult, yet bas provided me wtth employment skills and a great sense of accomplishment. It does, however, have its own challenges. Often I long for those long, lazy days of summer spent watching my children swim at a local pool or wtnter days spent playing board games.

Once I began working full time again, leisurely days became a distant memory only to be called upon as a relaxation technique. Juggling a full time job, the demands of the children, and maintaining the house in the fashion I was accustomed to have become an exercise 1n endurance. Most days feel like a marathon race to be, at a minimum finished, if not won.

Working outstde the home has given me a better understanding and appreCiatiOn of the challenges working women face and overcome tn successfully ra1smg and supporting the1r families. It is not an accomplishment that

The ugly ones-those camouflaged and hidden Are safe from harm Mysterious There is so much to learn about them They are strong I'll be strong someday What breaks you makes you stronger And I've been broken But maybe there's nothing wrong with being an ugly fish They are special creatures It will take someone special to take me I' 11 find him someday God has someone out there for me And when we meet I will know what it is To feel beautiful in my own unique way Swimming in a sea of happiness

-]ennesy Raaum

VikiNG Sliip

can be taken lightly. I have had to miss out on important events in the lives of my children, which has been very difficult for me. I wasn't able to take my daughter to her first day of Kindergarten. My mother had to do the honors since I was out of town on business. I had to hear the details of this momentous event over a pay phone outside a conference room.

Women of my generation are fortunate to have the choice of whether they will work outside the home or stay at home to raise the children full time. With these choices, however, come challenges. No matter which choice we make, it doesn't feel perfectly right. Women need to be at ease with the choices we make. In their time, usually those choices are right.

The psychologists can study those choices long and hard, but the reality is that each situation has advantages as well as disadvantages. For every turn, there is a season. •

Travis Garton Impressions 37

FivE WAys TO Kiss SoMET~iNG

By Kalen Ost When you first meet a woman and find yourself floating away, into the gleam in her eyes and the smile creeping across the corners of her mouth, one must greet her with a kiss on the hand. Your eyes Jock onto her soul, refusing to release the tight grasp on what is suddenly found, even as you bend your lips to her skin. You place your lips Lightly to her hand and are instantly warmed by the heat of her skin.

Kissing a woman's neck is supposed to be a successful way of arousing a partner. Standing behind her slight form, with your arms containing her body, you pause slightly to smell her hair and proceed to meticulously draw an imaginary line from the bottom of her ear to the curve of her neck with your top and bottom lip.

After ceasing a session of fighting with a lover, nothing seals a moment of rejuvenated bliss like the force of two sledgehammers coming together, disguised as two sets of wanting lips.

There is a hurried passion in the moment, the making up for days or weeks of bitterness in a few short minutes. This kiss is amazing in that the blunt force with which the mouths come together is a combination of quickened passion and violence.

FlyiNG FREE

When two people decide the love they're sharing in reality is a cruel farce, they must end the life they planned on sharing. If the two plan to remain on somewhal friendly terms, they may share a kiss of ultimaLe irony.

While both partners kiss and wait for the spark that started off the relationship, it will not apear. Instead, each will be left with nothing, as what once gave love now only makes the heart more hollow than before.

When both parties have moved and the memories fade, all one can do is kiss the memory of what was, but can never be. In these solitary moments you must not embrace the memory, but instead gently place a kiss upon its forehead as it slumbers undisturbed, so as not to wake it. •

]acalynn

Parks

LovE ANd HATE

BEAUTY WiT~iN

]acalynn

Parks

Love and Hate never confused Love and H ate one and two It was always either Never both 'Til you came along And changed the rules Love and H ate have grown confused Love and Hate now one, not two Eternally they shall be A part of you and me

-Anna Marx

38 Impressions

SuMMER SuN

}acalynn

Parks

TuRN ME INsidE OuT

Kalen Ost

Impressions39

DENNis ANd Tli E EvolviNG Cow

By Cory Neumiller My cows are evolving. In the last couple of weeks, they have changed from herbivores to carnivores. Crazy thtngs happen during calving season.

Some of you may think I'm joking.

I'm not. I swear, all winter I've been fcedmg my cows round bales. Hay. Thus, I assumed they were herbivore~. Nm once did they appear to have any craving for meat, that is until two weeks ago. When the first calf of the year hit the ground, a nice ninety pound bull, his mother tried to eat me.

The whole herd seems to have gotten mtghty protective.

Smce then it has only gotten worse. I was to the point where the newborn calves and cows wtth complications had two options-they could live or they could die. It was up to them. This was where my mind set was when I got a phone call from my old buddy Dennis. ''What's up?"

"Not much Dennis.''

"How's calving going? Gettin' any sleep?"

"Not much. Pert near wore out a patr of runnin' shoes already too."

"Why's that?"

"My cows are crazy. They've been tryin' to kill me nonstop. Don't even care tf I feed 'em or not. I think they could probably live on snow banks and meanness."

Dennis and I talked for a while, and the old boy thought I was JUSt messmg with his head. He claimed hts old Hereford cows never got that way and he couldn't figure out why my Angus, Simmental, Charlois, and the other various breeds mixed in my herd, got so dam mean. He said he was commg right over to check om the sttuauon.

Denms drove over to my place that afternoon and not a moment too soon. l had a btg Stmmental cow (#8), wtth a hint of vengeance in her eye, who had been trying to calve since early

40 Impressions

that morning without any success. I figured that the calf was probably backwards and wasn't going to come by itself, but I couldn't get the cow into the chute by myself.

"Whaaaattttzzzuupp?"

Dennis yelled.

"You watch to much TV. I need some help. Thts old girl is having problems and she's meaner than your ex-wife."

"I'll take a look."

Dennis proceeded to open the gate to number eight and walked into the pen.

"She don't look so mean." Dennis said, then turned to the cow and started to give her breathmg lessons. "You gotta breath! In with the good air, out with the bad. Come on girl. Work with me! Neumiller, you should teach your cows Lamaze. It really helps."

The cow, who probably thought Dennis went off the deep end, tried getting up to take a closer look.

"You better look out Dennis," I warned.

"Ab, she's nothmg but hot air. No sense sweatin' the httle stuff."

At this point, the cow struggled up

on her feet, gave a little bellar, and came for Dennis. For those of you who don't know Dennis, and I'm guessing most of you don't, I should probably fill you in. Dennis tsn't a real active guy. He enjoys the finer things m life: a couch, a televtston, and a six pack of beer. So when that cow came for him, I was a little shocked to see how fast he moved, especially since he was trying to run in a pair of coveralls and big pack boots.

Just for the record, the bam was gerung pretty built up with manure from the long winter, and it was froze pretty decent m most of the bam, but in the heated pen where I had old number eight, it was pretty soft.

Dennis' boots are still in there.

Dennis came out of the pen, barefoot, like a shot from a gun. Old number eight was hot on his heels and didn't give him enough time to make an attempt at climbing a wall. They made a good three circles around the inside of my barn before I could figure out a plan.

"Hey Dennis!" I yelled. "You wanna get out?"

Tl-IE DRops falling from high, green, cottonwood cradles after a warm spring rain leave such a splash.

-TheoBohn

"You....stupid ..... what.. ...are..... .I ..... want ..... " I could only catch p1eces of h1s yelling, and fortunately the p1eces I caught were the cleaner pieces, but he seemed to want out.

After his fifth lap around lhe bam (his w1fe was not going to be happy about those socks), I opened the

headgate of my chute, which he darted out. Then I slammed It shut on old number eight before she could complete her mission of killmg Dennis.

I laughed at Denms for a while, but he was too out of breath to yell at me or take a swing. I proceeded to tum the calf inside the old girl and finally

popped out a nice looking red bull calf. Throughout the process. I kept askmg Denms for help.

"She's either gonna live, or she's gonna d1e" was all the contribution he would make.•

Keila Kuykendall

Impressions 41

A SiNGlE Gold STAR

By Andrew DesRosier Everyone had had entirely too much to drink, but the party had just begun. The band was playing familiar music very poorly, yet nobody cared.

They continued to dance the night away in Mr. Wallace's ballroom.

Mr. Wallace held several social gatherings for the elite society of Crown Point. Yet, there was a different aura to this party. It was spring, and the people were as anxious to forget last summer as they were for the new one to begin. Not quite everybody, however, was as anxious to forget as they seemed. Janet sat quietly at the side of the room, mysteriously sipping on a glass of red burgundy, turning down dance after dance from an endless line of suitors. The memories passed through her mind.

She recalled that early afternoon in the heat of last summer when she called her son James inside to prepare for Mr. Wallace's Fourth of July bash.

She remembered how charming he looked in that special red, white and blue suit. She had told him how proud his daddy would be had he not died in the war, and how proud she was to see him waving that little American flag.

She was called back to reality by Mr. Wallace's servant. A young Chinese boy, shy and quiet, poured her another glass of wine and continued on his way. Janet watched him walk around the room. He seemed to act very calm around such a highclass group; he simply filled all empty glasses and returned to his corner. As he pulled a yo-yo out from his jacket pocket, she began to weep silently.

James' most precious possession was the yo-yo his father had given him when he left for the war. It was a beautiful red yo-yo with a single gold star centered neatly in the middle.

When Janet had rushed from Mr. Wallace's balcony to James' lifeless body on that fatal Independence Day,

42 Impressions

the yo-yo was the only thing missing.

That was just the first of many incidents that resulted in the death of a small boy in Crown Point. All were the sons of dead war heroes. All the widows were present at the party tonight as Mr. Wallace had donated money for a memorial dedicated to the heroes and their children. Janet was not yet prepared to put that

stormy nightmare behind her. She was empty from the hole inside her, and aching for something to fill it.

The music came to a sudden halt, and everybody turned to see Mr. Wallace standing on the stage, inviting all to gather on the balcony for the unveiling of the monument. Janet's breaths grew increasingly shorter with every step she took toward the plat-

~,,

LAdy CoNTENT

Stephanie Dixon

ToMORRow The nothingness of the day suffocates me.

I see the same shallow people every day And say hello with a smile plastered on my face.

I wonder if they know how much I hate them.

Not for who they are, but for what they're not.

My perfectly planned day keeps me sane, And suppresses my spirit.

I desire something spontaneous, But it doesn't fit into my schedule.

The one I love brings me joy.

He loves me for who I am And leaves no room for change.

I want to take the first train And go wherever it takes me.

Maybe I'Jl do it tomorrow.

-Tara Deseth

form from which her son had plunged to his death.

Most people watched the ground below as the red curtain, lit up in darkness, slowly rose. Instead, Janet watched the small Chinese boy as he struggled to pull on the rope. After he had tied down the rope, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the yoyo. It gHstened in the artificial light and caught Janet's eye. She walked

over to the boy and grabbed the yoyo. It was red, with a single gold star in the middle. Emotions overwhelmed her and she dropped to the floor, gasping for air. A crowd gathered around her as she began to shriek at the boy, asking him where he had gotten the yo-yo. The small boy, taken back, was too shy to answer her at first, and then he whispered to her and to the crowd that Mr. Wallace had given it to him

for his birthday.

A single gunshot pierced the air, and the group turned in unison to see Mr. Wallace himself holding a pistol.

The light caught his hair in reflection and then danced down to the steel of his gun as shadows played off his face. It began to rain.

AU night and into the morning they stood on that cold, wet balcony, MI. Wallace threatening anybody who moved. He talked of committing every murder and gave the gruesome details of each, right in front of the mothers. He told how he felt those children would have grown up to be a detriment to society and how he would have expected them to be bitter with their country for taking their fathers from them.

Then, in a moment of unforeseen bravery, the rain-soaked Chinese servant rushed upon the armed man and bit into his arm, forcing him to drop his weapon. Mr. Wallace quickly tossed the small boy away like a rag doll. It was too late, however, as he turned to see Janet, an arm's length away, holding the gun. Mr. Wallace tried to take a step back and run, but Janet had already made up her mind.

She would take this man's life in the same place he had taken her son's. A loud bang pierced the a1r, and the ra1n stopped.

When the police arrived, the crowd had left the balcony, except for Janet, crying m the comer. The pollee first took the body and then came for Janet. As a lone officer began to lead her away, a quiet voice stopped them.

Janet turned to see the little Chinese boy. He was now completely silent; he simply stepped forward and handed her the red yo-yo. Janet first looked softly into the boy's eyes. Her gaze then traveled down to the yo-yo; the golden star glistened in the morning light, and she smiled. When the officer tugged on her arm again, she took one last look at the site she had last seen her son. All that was left was the small Chinese boy, a yo-yo, and a rainbow in the sky. •

Impressions 43

CoyoTE's lAMENT -BAsrd ON THe srouy "Coyorc A.\d THE SHAdow PEoplE," A Nu fJwcc llfYTH

Beneath a Harvest Moon ITangmg heavy and low in the sky, Coyote ~ang a song And the western wind carried hts words across the prame.

Through verse he told the moon Of a w1fe so loved, now gone, Gone to the spirit world Never to be seen again.

He told the Grear Moon Of a spmt who came to him On a cloud of sage And offered to take htm to his wife.

Hts offer 1 could not resist!

Coyote told the moon, For my sorrow kept me hungry And my ribs were starting to show.

I foJJowed the spirit,

Away from my lodge And onto the prame.

We traveled many a mtle And man)' a tumbleweed I dtd kick.

My companion called out Behold the spirit horses, Coyote!

And I beheld them though my eyes saw nothing.

My companion called out Pa11ake of these servtceberries, Coyote!

And I partook of them, though no berries sweetened my tongue.

B)' and by we arrived And all I saw was empty prairie.

My companion called out Enter the lodge and sit beside the fire, Coyote!

Your wife wishes to serve you some food!

So I sat and ate food which gave no weight in my hand.

As night fell 1 began to see them Tho~e that occupied thts lodge.

Old friends.

Old enemtes.

And those 1 had once had for dmner.

44

Impressio11s

Beside me sat my wife.

Her smile lit my heart And through the night I danced with the dead.

Many days I stayed on that prairie, Wasting away during the day time, My mouth full of dust And my legs roo wobbly to stand.

Dut at night I drank and danced, And gave love to my wife, Until Spint came back.

He told me to take my wife Across five mountams And so long as I didn't touch her She would be mine again, In the land of the living.

Gladly I began the journey My feet were light and my heart full of anticipation.

The wind carried her smell And wrapped it around me, though see her, I could not.

After the first mountatn I heard her voice After the second I saw her shape After the third I could hear leaves crackle beneath her feet.

On the fourth we made a fire and through the flickering flames I saw her.

I saw her as she once was All beauty and substance and mystery and warmth, And I could not contain myself I touched her.

She tried to stop me but I could not stop.

I touched her.

And she varushed.

Alone by the fire I wrapped my tail around myself and wept.

Come morrung I made my way to the spirit lodge.

I acknowledged the horses I could not see.

I acknowledged the berries I could not taste.

I entered a lodge and ate food I could not feel.

And sat alone.

In the middle of the prairie.

And I saw you, dear moon Lighting the prairie in your fullness!

But the dead did not return, And my wife I never saw again.

I saw the sun go down in a brilliant fire.

-HEATHER. BRAATEN

I saw the flrst star of the night.

W~ EAT

Cory Neumiller

Is KiNG TH E DEcisioN

By Scott Anton

There she sits alone in the frontiermodeled rocking chair watching the world she once was part of now passing her by. She sits and remembers the times the world clamored to hear what she had to say, but now her world is only silence. The tears now stream down her face as she remembers the day that changed her world.

A car is skidding along a country road, a middle aged woman at the wheel of her first sports car. She pushes hard on the gas pedal, he will never treat her like that again. She looks in the rearview mirror and sees the bruise he put on her cheek and once again feels the sting of his hand on her face. Suddenly the car rolls over and over and stops in a twist of smolder-

ing metaL She wants to scream, she can not make a sound.

Now she sits touching her face, the bruise can no longer be seen but its result will never be given back to her.

The nurse now stands before her; she can hear the nurses lips move but there is no one there to hear anymore.

Impre.ssions 45

PART of h Sound of hooves strike the sandrock ledge.

Startled a doe explodes from its bed.

Strands of blood splatter about.

Small fawn falls out.

Seeing, unbelieving the horseman froze.

Springing to its feet, Scared from its seemingly sleep.

Struggling to leap, the newborn falls to the ground.

Sensing what just went on, rider strides away.

-Dan Htifele

IN MEMORiAM DAN HAfElE (MAy 6, 1968.-fEbRUARY 17, 2002)

IN HopEs Rainbow colored sides flash, Breaking the crystal surface.

The trout gulps, the struggling grasshopper.

The sound of swishing line, echoes.

The fly lands softly beside the eddy.

The current pushes the imitation, beyond.

The fisherman twitches the line.

Rainbow colored sides flash.

Breaking the crystal surface.

-Dan Htifele 46 Impressions

1918