The Wayfarer 2023

T H E W A Y F A R E R

Welcome!

We at The Wayfarer are so excited to share the exceptional talent and hard work of our beautiful Edgewood students! All of our wonderful writers, artists, and staff members have persevered to bring forth the 2022-2023 Wayfarer. Inside are a menagerie of suspenseful plays, emotional poems, and dramatic short stories. Please, ENJOY!

“The creation of a single world comes from a huge number of fragments and chaos.”

Hayao Miyazaki

Prose Editors: Isabelle Volberg (11)

& Isabelle Jensen (10)

Art Editor: Olivia Rowe (9)

Design and Layout Editor: Jacklyn Thao (11)

Publicity Manager: Bella Urzagaste (11)

Layout Staff: Melanie Harings (10)

Editorial Staff: Clara Insolia (9)

Cover Art Contest Winner: Jack Heffron (12)

Advisors & Consultants: Ms. Jennifer Rhoads, Ms. Natalie Koblenski & Ms. Stephanie Baertlein

With the end of summer near The Grand Old Tree takes stock

It sounds a blast for all to hear

The Rise and Fall

With a leaf dropped from its frock

All the living stop their prancing

They gaze their dewy eyes

At the evil wind advancing

Across the weeping sky

Autumn scents as fleeting

As the sunset’s gleam

Unfurl their quiet greeting

With summer ’ s dying scream

Awake from captive slumber

The fall’s old smells revive

In ever-growing number

For summer can’t survive

Angry bellows pump the air

With cold mem ’ries dusted off

Smiting summer ’ s love affair

Tossed aside with flippant scoff

None can know what brings the strange wind

And makes cold rains descend

What makes the green leaves thin

And blazing ere their end

September haze now shattered

The transformation may begin

Leaving all that ever mattered

In the ground burrowed within

And here the chilled October

In its stony silence holds

A conquered court so darkly sober

Formed anew with ancient molds

Zane Brolin | 12

Dinner by the River in Porto | Marcio Sierra |

I WAS

Lilly Koblenski | 10

Once I was a castle, A fortress strong and tall. When I was young, I watched the world, Hiding safe behind its walls.

As I grew I ventured out To explore what was unknown, But I soon learned to hide from hope, For I walk this path alone.

And once I was a fire And my flames burned warm and bright. When I was young, I glowed for all, An orange beacon in the night.

As I aged my fire died And my glow turned into smoke I learned that even fire bright Will in time begin to choke.

In youth I was an eagle And I soared through mountains high When I was young, I spun through clouds, And I danced about the sky.

As I aged, my caution grew. I had learned my lessons well

But still they grinned, and shot me down; And so in silence, i

Untitled | Alexandra Moschkau |

THIS STORY HAS NO ENDING

Understand that snow is always an important, monumental event. I wish for you to imagine it as you see fit: whether you experience it every year in your neighborhood, or whether you live in a hotter climate and it doesn’t snow at all It’s quite alright either way, but for our purposes just let the flakes fall from the top of your mind to the bottom of it, let them drift and pile up behind your left ear before being shoveled away neatly to the back of the neck right above the spine. As long as the snow is there in your mind, we can begin.

Our story begins on such a day that saw the snow fall and drift and be shoveled as it just was in your mind I stress again that it is paramount to my efforts that you keep the snow in your thoughts, that you always feel the quiet that it makes when it falls. This is important. I can’t say that enough.

Our story begins with have you forgotten the snow already? You’re not doing a very good job I’m not angry at you I’m just disappointed Perhaps your mother has said that to you at some point Imagine her mouth saying those words and you will again grasp how important the snow is to our story

Now that I’m sure you comprehend the importance of snow, I will add another detail that I neglected to mention at first. This is the first snow of the year in our story. Not a random October flurry, but a good snowfall that sticks You now have two things to remember, but the snow itself is actually a little more important than the consideration that it is the first snow, so weigh that as you see fit and we’ll continue.

Our story begins with a girl named Kaytelin, which is a strange spelling of a name, but it’s not her fault I won’t have you judging this girl named Kaytelin, because her parents had no clue what they were doing when picking a name They won’t feature heavily in this story, but I want you to know that her parents are the kind of people who bring a fruit platter instead of cake to a potluck when they signed up for cake and responded to the emails with a confirmation that they were bringing cake only to bring a fruit platter when everyone was expecting cake. Just so you understand what we’re dealing with here.

That’s three things to remember now, if you disregard the unfortunate incident with the cake (that’s called a digression and you can just ignore it, and if you’re annotating you don’t have to write anything in the margins for that part). You’re doing very well in fact, so I’ll increase the speed at which these details are being flung at you.

Zane Brolin

Kaytelin’s best friend was a boy named Stephen. That’s only a slightly odd way of spelling a name because he is not an only child like Kaytelin, and so his parents had learned a thing or two from his two older sisters Stephen and Kaytelin played soccer together (soccer of course is played when there is no snow on the ground, and as a consequence the two were not playing soccer together at this time, but they were still best friends) and, because Kaytelin was a girl and Stephen was a boy, endlessly fended off allegations of sitting in trees and falling victim to a contrived rhyming scheme that required spelling out a word instead of just saying the word, when from the observance of any rational, thirdparty viewer, simply saying it saves time and cuts to the heart of the matter much more eloquently

I really haven’t given you much more to keep in your head, but it’s enough to get this story off the ground. You have the snow in your head (don’t forget about it and let it melt by accident!), you have Kaytelin and Stephen, and you have a few more details that you can toss aside if you’re pressed for

time

It was recess time at Central Middle School (a terribly unimaginative and confusing name for a school; everything is in fact central to everything else if you think about it) and Kaytelin and Stephen were sitting on a bike rack by the broken monkey bars when the first snowflake fell on Kaytelin’s pinky fingernail

“Look, look!” she whispered excitedly to Stephen, who was crossing his eyes to see if they would stay that way, “Look! The first snowflake of winter!” She was very careful not to breathe on it, fearing that it would melt, which was a very quick-witted and rational reaction “They’re all special, you know No two are exactly alike ”

Stephen looked and believed at first that she was lying, for he saw two identical snowflakes, albeit blurry ones that were each on their own identical pinky fingernails. He blinked very hard three times and looked again, and this time saw that his best friend was right “Told you so! Cool, isn’t it?”

Kaytelin looked up to see more snowflakes falling from the sky like

dandruff from her father’s balding scalp, and she was momentarily disgusted by this thought before returning to the fact that it wasn’t in fact dandruff but snow, real snow that was starting to congregate on the ground

I have mentioned that snow is an important, monumental event, but I have not mentioned the perfect silence that the world is held in for just a moment when snow falls. It happened that day as it happened on all days: shrieks of glee and unhinged joy faded for a beautifully swollen moment as all the children at recess stopped and looked up. The fact that a snowball thrown at an opportune time scored a direct hit on Stephen’s exposed neck (he had forgotten at home the scarf that his grandma had knit him, and was perfectly happy leaving it in all its puke-green excess until now, when a scarf certainly seemed like a good thing to have) did not change the more meaningful fact that for a moment, all the children there had ended their rivalries and turf wars and endless conquests of belligerence.

Of course, the conquests of belligerence had now renewed with aplomb, and Stephen was reduced to tears Not that the snowball had hurt him particularly it was the size of a golf ball and the gathering of snow had required much effort on the assailant’s part but Stephen was not

particularly fine-tuned to how other children operated, and as such was convinced thoroughly that he had done something to deserve it.

The aforementioned assailant was a boy named James, such a normally spelled name that it only added insult to injury in this case

“Steeeeeee-rike!” James whooped amid peals of laughter from cronies whose own athletic abilities weren’t quite on par with his, particularly as they related to throwing Kaytelin remember Kaytelin? Just checking your memory, this is getting a little more in-depth now was watching this with a passive, almost disinterested look She did not see the snowball strike her best friend because she was still looking up at the sky, but upon realizing that it had, she knew in an instant that it had to have been James done it She had seen him, in the hallways, at lunch, at Snacktime (James had that jumbo carton of Goldfish that sparked envy), always leering at Stephen and whispering to his friends between gobs of Goldfish paste The bell rang and the children said goodbye to the snow It fell harder and yet still silently as Kaytelin tried to make Stephen laugh and as the teachers corralled the children to the door, where hats and mittens and scarves (not Stephen’s scarf though, remember? It is puke-green and he left it at home) were shed and sorted into cubbies It was Snacktime

I don’t need to explain to you how volatile Snacktime is I would guess that you have Snacktime or a Snacktime equivalent at your school, so I am assuming that you understand that young people unleashed on milk and crackers is like a dog loose in a chocolate factory: it might be a good time for the dog, and the dog might enjoy itself as it pounces on confectionery, but chocolate is of course toxic to dogs and the best case scenario here is that the dog is taken to the vet for a less than comfortable stomach pumping Not that stomach pumpings are pro forma at Snacktime, but you never know (you are free to ignore this digression as you did the last one, and again, if annotating, it’s surely better for everyone concerned if the margins are clear at this point), and so the takeaway here is that Snacktime is a thoroughly negative experience for all concerned, and you’re better off steering clear of the fanaticism that accompanies the indulgence, if you weren’t already disgusted by it Ask yourself how patronizing it is that adults believe you need time to sit still at a desk while they read to you and you stuff your face while all the while lunch is ninety minutes away Leaps and bounds of logic in the teaching administration that originated the practice, but we’ll move on

Kaytelin was such a student who had a healthy skepticism of Snacktime, which is excellent for her and another one of her admirable qualities, but I realize that you probably don’t feel as passionately about Snacktime and you’re waiting on me, so we’ll get to the meat and potatoes here like I said we would

Stephen had recovered from the assault, so you can breathe a sigh of relief in that respect The small welt was looking serious at first but you couldn’t even see it now, so the prognosis was overwhelmingly positive Kaytelin was relieved, and not only because her best friend was okay: she didn’t know how to fight, so if the damage to Stephen had been permanent she would have been reminded of James’ transgression every time she looked upon the bruise, and would have been compelled by what we’ll call chivalry to defend her rather non-confrontational best friend All the same, she stared daggers at the attacker and plotted revenge with methods that were not achievable: rabid dogs, giant swinging axes, laser beams This may seem barbaric to me or you, but consider the relationship between Kaytelin and Stephen Best friends With a capital B for best whenever they spelled it (I’m not spelling it like that in my writing (except when grammar dictates it) because that’s their thing and I don’t want to insert myself)

Whew I’ve given you a lot to remember now Let’s take a break and allow your brain to absorb all that’s being thrown at you while I take a breather

I’m back. I just had lunch (ham and cheese on rye with sour cream and onion potato chips. Cholesterol is not a thing you have to worry about at your age but understand that that meal is not what I should be eating) and now my story juices are flowing again. I realized when reading all of this back that I’m doing lots of ranting and raving, when what I should really be doing is telling the story that I set out to tell I can’t make any promises that I won’t go off on a tangent, but I also can’t stand deleting anything I’ve written, so when I copy edit this later I’ll just black out all of the unnecessary bits Tttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt. Tand so really it hmust tttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt tttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt……………………………………

……………………… .

it better not have melted in your head

, so no, it’s a fair assumption to make that Stephen was not having a good day But that’s the thing about best friends Kaytelin was always there for Stephen, and he was always there for her.

The snow kept falling outside (it better not have melted in your head), and inside Room 121 its silence made itself known Smacking and chewing gave way for a moment and a perfect stillness came about, seemingly rising from the linoleum and falling from the asbestos ceiling (it is necessary to understand that asbestos poses a real danger to inhabitants of older buildings. Ask your parents about how safe your quarters are). Stillness is important to this story. Really, at its core, this story is about quiet and about stillness. So that’s how I’ll end it. Quietly. With a non-ending. Think about stillness. Maybe I’ll see you next time

Four Suns and One Boat | Benjamin Roe |

ACastedFate

Weston Hafer | 12

Delphine Blanchet woke to the snores of the man she had met last night Getting up from the edge of the bed, she looked out to the bustling Parisian market square below Scavenging Jean Claude's pockets for his watch, Delphine discovered it was already 8:47 AM. Putting a formal gown back over her sleep wardrobe, she took one last look at the toned, sleeping man and left the room

Madam Blanchet was hoping to be back home by 8:00 AM so her husband wouldn't grow suspicious, but the number of men she had slept with since their matrimony indicated she could get away with most Making way back to their dwelling, her husband was already up preparing breakfast "Good morning honey," Mylan said quietly to his wife. "How was the night with the ladies?"

"Oh, just wonderful dear!" Delphine responded "I am sorry I am late, but we had such a good time!"

"No worries, I thought I would prepare some eggs for your arrival" "You are too sweet, eggs sound splendid!"

Delphine sat down at the handcrafted oak table with a small portion of freshly fried eggs She ate the breakfast slowly, mulling over the unfaithful decisions made last night. Jean Claude was a twenty yearold, sharp, attractive, businessman His dark eyes drew the attention of Delphine as she passed in the city's streets Jean approached Delphine when he noticed her seductive glares and well, one thing led to the next. As Mylan slept, believing his wife was with a few friends, Delphine was nurtured by the touch of another man While Jean held Delphine's delicate hands, he felt no ring She had taken off the band prior and it was a miracle she had not misplaced it in the spacious apartment

As the food vanished bite by bite, Mylan got dressed for his position at the local tailor shop He wore a pressed white shirt, unadulterated by stains The buttons were held perfectly against the shirt's lining and the collar was crisply folded over its sides. As noble as a man he was, his looks could never compare to the youngblood Delphine had fallen for

Mylan left, and Delphine began her household duties. Dusting lamps and shelves, scrubbing floors with a rigorous cleaning solution, beating all the rugs, and finally washing a few windows for aesthetics

Delphine's home life was a societal norm Women were expected to dress a certain way, speak a certain way, but perhaps most important: never cheat on their man. Delphine grew to despise this kind of living after only a few short years of being married

Before Mylan, Delphine lived as the daughter of a prosperous entrepreneur. Her father - Lucas Durand - began a successful wagon making company that kept the Durand's a wealthy lot Until age 18, Delphine received luxurious gifts and ate elegant meals As much opportunity and joy as her father provided, Delphine blames him for imploding her life.

It became evident wagon making would hit recession after the newly completed railroad line from Saint-Étienne to Andrésieux, so Monsieur Durand arranged a marriage with the "safest" man he could find A 19 year-old aspiring tailor who could provide an honest life, but nothing like the generational abundance to which Delphine was accustomed

Naturally, Delphine took the arrangement news poorly She clashed bitterly with her father for weeks, desperate to call off the marriage Her protests proved ineffective, as only two short months later Delphine & Mylan were husband and wife. Ever since the cold October morning the matrimony took place, Delphine had grown to despise her father and her legal husband

A wandering eye began to plague her moral sense. It started with noticing the attractive qualities in other men, but rapidly grew into full fledged affairs Initially there may have been some sort of guilt buried deep, however, the sneaky woman had turned into a professional mistress

The day drifted by slowly as her clock ticked in normal fashion Each minute that passed marked another minute closer to her husband's arrival Distressed and miserable about the idea of her husband returning home, Delphine decided to head back to the apartment she was at the night previously. She remembered Jean-Claude mentioning an early afternoon meeting with investors, so she thought she would surprise him upon his arrival

As expected, Jean-Claude was dismayed the woman found her way back into his bed The two continued about their nightly business Delphine lost track of time and was once again late for Mylan’s return. Jean-Claude was in the washroom putting back on casual garb as Delphine yelled, “I really must get going! I shall see you shortly Jean!”

Jean-Claude begged for the woman to stay longer, still unaware the woman was not who she claimed. In his eyes, she was a 19 year-old daughter of a high-market Florence investor and most certainly not married

Rushing home on a lavish carriage, Delphine made it back to her home just minutes before Mylan opened the creaky front door Mylan seemed happy, eager to tell his wife about the business he had generated today.

“Honey, you would not believe it! I had six customers orders in one day Six! My best business yet!”

Delphine felt obligated to match his excitement, despite knowing those measly orders could never compare to the assets of Jean-Claude The couple commenced their evening routine A quiet sequence of dinner preparation, light poetic reading and an early bedtime. Mylan, yet again, went to bed under the impression his life was serene

Nine Fridays had passed since the last sneaky contact with Jean, and Delphine began to have morning sickness She would roll out of bed and immediately suffer intense nausea Delphine, who by no means had medical knowledge, believed she was dying. Mylan was the one who insisted she must be pregnant Mylan rejoiced in the idea of having a child For the entirety of their marriage, Delphine insisted on waiting until they had greater financial security Delphine was skeptical of the pregnancy, not entirely convinced her husband was the biological father.

A standard motherhood cycle started Each week, the couple's confidence in their child’s delivery increased. The process brought down quite a physical toll. Delphine was convinced the hardships of her pregnancy served as punishment for sleeping around, but said debt was far from being repaid

In due time, a beautiful baby girl was born Cries of life ignited the small operational room she was delivered in

“What a beautiful child!” exclaimed Mylan to his vocal extent “We shall name her ” He paused to mull over the list of names he had been generating for months “FLEUR,” Mylan shouted “How perfect!

Fleur Blanchet!”

Delphine loved the name as well and as Fleur was placed into her hands, she felt an immense touch of love Fleur’s nestled head reached Delphine’s heart As the warmth upon her breast rested, the joy abruptly transformed into a bone-chilling wave of shame She began to ponder her numerous affairs, questioning why she ever deprived herself of this motherly joy Delphine settled that the best way to right her wrongs was to raise Fleur like the woman she could never be: a virtuous one

Fleur grew up as the luckiest child in all of Southern France Although her parents remained nothing more than middle-class, a plethora of love doused every ounce of the household. Seven years had passed since Delphine’s mistake and a six year-old Fleur wildly ran around the kitchen’s oak table set She seemed to have an infinite supply of energy, especially when her mother was in charge

Delphine learned to become a fabulous mom Her own, Madam Durand, notoriously nagged Delphine for her formal training Explicitly remembering all the afternoons spent learning womanly dinner manners, sewing headdresses together, or even ballroom dancing, Madam Blanchet raised her daughter on contemporary principles

While Mylan continued his moderate tailoring success, Delphine and Fleur lived life to its fullest extent. The pair sang together and shopped in the city’s streets An unwavering rebel attitude was silently developing, but not a day went by they wouldn’t consider themselves best friends

Fleur silently sobbed against her mothers bedpost Mylan had stayed home for work for the fifth day in a row. Delphine had come down with a case of Typhoid Fever. Warning signs of red colored spots had appeared on her body just five days prior The growing infection quarantined the family and Delphine was growing weaker with each breath Stomach pain, nausea, even sounds of a horrendous cough echoed throughout their abode.

A local doctor came to administer treatments The contagious disease had many weary to help Delphine, so the small family was incredibly thankful for Dr. Dupont’s visit. “It is as expected,” Dupont stated “The dreaded typhoid has cursed her”

The news did not come as a surprise, but it certainly did not make the situation easier. Fleur was old enough to realize the severity of the illness Witnessing her mothers debilitating health, sent Fleur into periodic depression Mylan was not holding up well either With each sunrise, the two would rush to the main room hoping to see Delphine’s chest breathing.

The wife’s abdominal discomfort and appetite loss continued to worsen, Dr Dupont held no doubts death was knocking. Mylan’s eye dropped a single tear. He had no choice but to face the reality he was about to be a single parent A man whose “flawless” wife succumbed to a damned destiny Fleur hugged close around the shoulders while her mother’s last breath escaped

Delphine Adeline Blanchet was pronounced dead at 11:32 AM on February 24, 1838 A small funeral was held with members of the neighborhood Pleasant, brief speeches were given by Mylan and their neighbor Gaultier After the remembrance service of Delphine, her body was taken to a Parisian mortician Recently, the city's graveyard sanitation standards were under scrutiny Widespread sanitation issues and overcrowding in above-ground resting sites had caused the King to establish an innovative solution The dead were to be allocated in an underground labyrinth Catacombs

Mylan was hesitant to just throw his wife in the skeletal playground He felt her body would be mistreated The whole process promoted disrespect, but alas Mylan did not have funds for a premium burial Contrary to his beliefs, Delphine’s corpse was taken by the mortician to be thrown

A hearse arrived at the Blanchet’s doorstep later the following morning Her body was haphazardly thrown in the rear of the transport. Each bump against her lifeless body sent chills through Mylan and Fleur Delphine was taken away from the daughter whom she learned to love The hearse arrived to the burial professionals, and her luscious brown hair fanned in the wind As it waved one last time amongst the gusts of northern France, the deceased network gained a new resident.

Just like years ago next to Jean Claude, Delphine darted awake Eyes not yet adjusted to the swarming darkness, she was completely lost in her surroundings.

“What in the-,” Delphine thought “Where am I?”

Using her hands to prop herself upright, Delphine began to explore the unfamiliar territory It appeared she was trapped in a maze.

“What happened? Where where am I?”

Delphine was not aware everyone believed she died She had no recollection of Fleur resting against her makeshift infirmary, her husband's muffled cries, and the amiable words shared at her own funeral.

In an attempt to escape, Delphine ran her hands along the walls She still could not make out figures in the shadows. It was not until her fingers brushed what was unmistakably a human skeleton, that she yelped in fear “AHHH,” Delphine screamed Her phalanges jutted from the hollowed rib cage as the bone structure sat unphased Once a body of a gentle grandmother, was now Delphine’s hint about her location. The Catacombs. She had overheard rumors of the system established by the monarchy, but could have never imagined she would end up within its space; yet alone alive in the confines Madam Blanchet was frightened and rightfully so She walked carefully in what was presumed to be the middle Careful to not come in contact with another collection of collagen.

Delphine wandered for hours desperate to find any sort of opening Her stomach began to grumble With each step she grew increasingly thirsty. Typhoid had done a number on her immune and nervous system, deterioration was now conspicuous

Day and night were indistinguishable Her mouth turned as withered as French vineyards in July Although a fever did not take her soul, she was wishing it had This suffering was much worse than those patterned small rosy dots on her skin. Incessant migraines and weakness sounded like a delight compared to smelling the rotting flesh surrounding her being After a few days of endless inspection, she gave up There was no way out

Delphine spent her final moments sitting plainly on the dirt pathway, looking up to the darkness who returned the stare She closed her eyes and vivid memories of Fleur’s childhood swiftly shuffled through Her birth, her first steps, her kooky laugh, the time they went shopping in the square, even the endless dinners they managed to overcook together Delphine knew she was a bad mom and wife Mylan did not deserve her unfaithfulness, Fleur did not deserve to grow up without her mother, the only person deserving such retribution, was herself. Delphine accepted she was a depraved individual who let puny men dismantle her moral compass

“I am who I am, but I hate who I have become Take me now This life is shamefulFleur, may you not follow in my tracks Your heart is pristine, and mine is cold Cold enough to freeze over a prairie Please be diligent finding the man you marry For matrimony is not to be rushed, continue your independence, pledge to never be hushed You are special and I wish time could pause, I caused deep wounds, but I’m fresh out of gauze To when I see you again my beautiful daughter, be pure, pure as the river’s water” It was time to leave this earth, knowing heaven was not the destination

Back above ground, the Blanchet’s moved on Mylan was having a difficult time serving as a sole parent Since Fleur’s earliest years, he was aware she was connected with her mother Poor Mylan had no idea he still shared no emotional, or DNA, connection.

After suffering from a poor string of business endeavors, Mylan left the tailor industry to become an operational railway worker. He did not possess passion for the new line of employment, but he couldn’t complain For the first time since his wife’s passing he felt secure Despite the earnings lacking in rewarding nature, funds remained afloat

Fleur became a teenager, and without her mothers guiding hand she fell into the homogenous tendency of unconventional behavior The young woman was quite a handful, beginning to talk back, not complete her chores and steal bottles of aged merlot Mylan did not have any idea how to control her temperament, as their relationship slowly decayed like the bodies that had surrounded Delphine.

Fleur took one last look at her childhood home A packed bag over her shoulder, filled with personal belongings Currently swinging away at metal linings, Mylan would come back to face his daughter’s departure. Fleur started the walk to the station. It was time to live, really live. She purchased an available one way seat and stepped on the train She rested her head against the cold passenger window, fascinated by the city lights As the engine ignited and the wheels began to pump, her next chapter began.

A man strutted down the aisle smiling Dressed in a black attendant uniform, he approached with a pleasant demeanor.

“Ticket and name madam,” the trainman asked politely

Fumbling to recover her piece of printed parchment, she handed it over to be punched

“It’s Delphine… Delphine Fleur Blanchet”.

Bubble | Carter Harms | 12

The Woman With the Blue Eyes

Sam Buchner | 12

The sky grew darker with her mood. Lila thought about her day. She thought about how he tried not to laugh when she held up that sign. How his friends were laughing and pointing at her. The thunder grew darker. She glanced in her rear view mirror. The torn up sign lying on the back seat, reminding her of the humiliation she had just faced. “Can I score a dance at hoco?” she thought she was so clever for using a pun of the sport they both play. All that work for nothing The weather, dark and crummy, had now started to pour Lila turned her window wipers on Her face now bright with anger How could he do this to me? she thought I thought we were friends With the storm making it hard to see and her mind being distracted, Lila didn’t see the street light turn red It felt like slow motion as Lila drove through the intersection. The rain falling came to a halt. Everything froze. The only thing Lila could see was the two bright eyes in her left side peripheral vision. It was only a matter of seconds before time started moving again.

In and out of consciousness, Lila slightly opened her eyes. She saw a glimpse of a woman leaning over her Her mouth was moving but Lila couldn’t hear a word A loud ringing in her ears blocked the woman ’ s words She looked like she was in a rush Lila lost consciousness

Lila peeled open her eyes. Everything hurt. It felt as if she slept on a bed of nails. Her vision was blurry. She had to squint to make sense of where she was. Lila had ended up in a hospital. When she moved, she felt the bang of a splitting headache. Lila heard something. She looked around, squinting. Her mom was at the foot of the bed, crying. Her dad put his hand on her mom ’ s shoulder. Lila sat up, “mom?” She got out of bed. “Mom it’s okay I’m right here.” she said with a quiver in her voice. She knelt down to hug her mom but her arms went through What the-? She tried again to hug her mom and got the same results Her arms went through her mom She tried once more with no luck Lila’s breathing grew deeper She looked at her shaking hands They were see-through Her eyes became big Scrambling to get up, she ran to the mirror to get a closer look. Her silhouette was visible but everything else was translucent. Lila looked at her parents. They hadn’t noticed anything. She was horrified. She opened the door and entered the hallway.

She ran up to the nurses by the front desk “HEY!” she screamed at them Nothing She tried once more flailing her arms around, “HEY!” Nothing Her arms went through the nurses and the desk. She was still invisible. Am I a ghost? She walked back to her room and freezed as she opened the door. There was someone in her bed. No, not someone. But how? She walked closer. There, in her bed, was Lila. Her hair was neatly placed on either side of her shoulder. An oxygen tube hooked (hi sam) over her ears and resting on her top lip. Cuts and scratches cleaned and bandaged. An IV was inserted into her left forearm. Her right arm was in a cast She looked so pale and relaxed Almost like she was- dead? Was I dead? Lila looked for the heartbeat monitor *beep*beep*beep* her heart was beating, yet she could see herself in the third person She sat down on the bed, baffled What in the world is happening?

Lila sat down heavily on the chair closest to the bed. Never taking her eyes off the person who happens to be herself on the bed. Her parents, still at the edge of the bed, though it seems as if her mom had fallen asleep. Her dad, still standing and rubbing mom ’ s back. Her headache came back. Oy vey. I cannot believe this is happening. Lila rubbed her temples, and looked back at herself laying in the bed I have to be dreaming This doesn’t make any sense How can I be there- she pointed to the bed And here She pointed to herself Lila, the one laying in the bed, was injured She had a cast on her right arm and scrapes on her face, yet when she looked in the mirror, Lila was in perfect health, not a cut in sight. Lila stood up and walked closer to the bed. She slowly reached her arm out, trying to touch the Lila in bed.

Suddenly, the Lila, laying in the bed, started seizing. Her mom woke up and her dad ran to get the doctors. Her mom started crying again. A doctor and three nurses entered the room in a hurry Lila slowly walked backwards but bumped into a wall Was I going to die? No one would ever know how scary it was to watch yourself being tugged on by death The doctors scrambled to get the defibrillators The nurses moved away the machines that were surrounding the head of the bed. Lila looked at her parents. Her mom, watching in horror as her daughter struggled to keep her life. Her dad had his arms wrapped around her mom, prepared to catch her mom if her knees buckled. As much as what was going on, something caught Lila’s eye. A black shadow walked past her door. (how long did it take you to find this) She looked past the doctors. No one was there. She walked into the hallway. Footsteps echoed through the hallway, yet no one was there. She slowly made her way towards the end of the hallway where the doors to the stairs are The lights were flickering Wait Lila stopped walking If I've learned anything from horror movies, this is exactly what you ' re NOT supposed to do She turned to head towards her room but something was calling out to her. She turned around again and walked straight towards the doors and opened them. Nothing was in the staircase. She shuddered and went back to her room, looking back a couple times.

When she came back to the room, things had settled. Lila was laying in bed looking as relaxed as before Her mom and dad had settled down and were talking to a doctor Though, she hadn’t seen this doctor before Her previous doctor had been a male doctor This one was a woman who had long black hair that reached the low of her back She was tall too Towering at least 4 inches over Lila Her eyes were icy blue She was- odd She looked normal but something about her felt off. The doctor finished her sentence with, “...she’ll be okay.” Her parent’s let out a sigh of relief. The doctor turned around and made

eye contact with Lila. Can she see me?? Was that- a wink? Lila was stunned. The doctor smirked and walked out of the room. Lila chased her into the hallway but it seemed as if no one was there “Yes I can see you ” Lila turned and saw the odd doctor leaning against the doorway As if she had just appeared from nothing “But they can’t ” she gestured to her parents in the room Lila didn’t have to say anything This doctor already knew her questions “No you ’ re not dead Yet ” Yet? “What’s that supposed to mean?” She finally talked The doctor shrugged. “What are you?” Lila asked. The doctor had to ponder at that one, and she made it obvious as well. Perching her chin in between her thumb and forefinger. “Hm, now I can’t exactly say for sure. ” “What’s your name?” “Ah that one I can say. Jo Crowly.” She stuck her hand out to shake Lila’s. “Nice to meet you. ” She smiled which made Lila feel uncomfortable, but she shook her hand. Surprisingly she was able to touch the doctor. Her hands didn’t go through She could feel the hand on her own “How-” but Jo changed the subject already She grabbed a hold of Lila’s hand and was inspecting it “Interesting ” She grabbed her other hand and compared the two “Very interesting ” “What’s interesting?” Lila asked. Before Jo could answer someone came down the hallway. Flynn? He had bags under his eyes like he hasn’t had a good night sleep in a few days. Something was in his hand. He walked right past Lila and stopped at her door. He knocked, and went in. Lila turned around. The doctor was gone. She walked into her room.

Flynn was talking to her parents. Her mom gave him a tight hug. They made their way into the hallway Lila walked to her bedside There was a small bouquet of three flowers tied with a white bow One pink rose, one purple lily, one white daisy Lila smiled at the thought that Flynn remembered her favorite flowers She noticed a card under the flowers She tried to grab a hold of the card but couldn’t. Her smile faded. She had forgotten she wasn’t physically there. Then she remembered how Flynn laughed at her the day before. Flynn came back into the room and closed the door. He pulled up a chair and sat next to Lila’s bed. He gently grabbed her hand and held it in his own. “Lila, I'm so sorry. ” He said. Lila, transparent Lila, raised her eyebrows. She was surprised and confused. “I never should have laughed at you that day. I didn’t mean to. My friends- I didn’t want to look bad in front of them. I wanted to be cool Normally a girl doesn’t ask a guy to a dance and they didn’t know we were friends ” Lila sat at the edge of the bed, looking out the window, and crossed her arms “But now I know that I don’t have to be mean or anything like that to look cool I just need you as my friend. You’re my best friend.” He sat in silence after he finished talking. Lila turned around to see that Flynn was fixing her hair. He kissed her hand and stood up. He put the chair back and left the room. Lila felt guilty at how mad she was at him. She didn’t realize he was struggling to make friends. She laid down on her back. She glanced again at the roses he had put on her bedside and the hand written card he made her. Sometime after her brain stopped thinking, Lila fell asleep

Lila woke to something messing with her hair She turned her head to the side A cat? There, playing with her hair was a black cat This cat had blue eyes “You can change form?” She asked the cat. It didn’t respond, it just sat up and looked at her with its big blue eyes. The cat leaped down from the bed and walked into the hallway. Lila sat up and rubbed her eyes. Then she stood and followed the cat out into the hallway. She saw her dad on the phone and her mom talking to a nurse at the front desk. They both looked sad. Her mom had bags under her eyes and her dad had dark circles under his. I wonder how much sleep they

had gotten The cat purred against her dad’s legs Lila followed and walked closer to her dad “Are-are you sure?” He asked the person on the phone. He tried to whisper, “Please you can’t. How am I going to pay for my daughter’s medical bills?” His voice started to quiver. Lila didn’t realize they were having financial struggles. Her parents always got her anything she wanted. Lila walked over to her mom. “I can pay for the IV but the other machines cost too much. Is there anything that can help?” Her mom asked the nurse. Lila felt horrible. Her being in the hospital cost too much than what her parents could afford. She turned to the cat who was now sitting on the counter. “Is it your plan to make me feel horrible about being in people's lives?” The cat didn’t say anything it just stared at her with its big blue eyes Lila stormed back to her room She tried to go back to her physical form She tried to grab her wrists, legs, anything but nothing worked She sat down in the chair next to her bed Instead of being angry at the cat, she tried to think of why it was showing her all these horrible things. The cat showed me Flynn’s struggle. Then it showed me my parent’s struggle. Maybe the cat was trying to tell me something. Flynn struggled to make friends while I never have. My parent’s struggle with money while I spend every dollar I get. Not to mention I don’t work either. I wrecked their car. That’s money out of their pockets plus the medical bills. What was I thinking? Lila’s anger faded the more she thought. The car appeared at her feet. She picked up the cat and cuddled it. “Thank you. ” she whispered to it. The cat jumped down and went into the hallway Lila looked at her lying in the bed, but this time it came with a surprise The Lila in the bed was gone but her imprint in the bed was still there

Lila knew what this meant. She was a different person than who she was when she first ended up in the hospital. She didn’t realize what a difference she made on people’s lives. Lila climbed on the bed. She placed each leg in the same position as the Lila lying in the bed. She placed her arms in the same position as well. Finally, before fully embracing the physical Lila, she took one last glance at Jo. She looked the same as she first did when they had met. Tall, long legs, black hair and blue eyes. She didn’t feel odd anymore, she felt- familiar Her smile wasn’t as cold as ice anymore It felt warm and welcoming Lila smiled at Jo Jo nodded Lila closed her eyes and accepted her physical state

Lila opened her eyes She saw her parents in the room, they were talking to a couple of Lila’s friends Her grandparents were setting down get well cards on the bedside table. “Look she’s awake.” someone said. Everyone rushed to her bed. Lila tried to sit up but her dad stopped her. “Take your time. You were in an accident.” He said. Lila looked around. Everyone was smiling at her. They can see me. Lila smiled.

After visiting hours were over and everyone dispersed, Lila opened the window and sat at the edge of her bed, feeling the breeze in her hair She grabbed the cards off the bed stand and read each card Finally she made her way to his card Flynn On the front of the white card he had written, “Get better soon ” she opened the card Inside the card was one sentence, a question “It is my goal to take you to hoco, will you score a dance with me?”

TRANSFORMATION

Jesse Johnson | 12

Lovetta backs up against the tree, gripping her upper arm above the wound. She groans and whimpers at the stinging flame of her open flesh, the harsh echo of the wolf’s teeth sinking into her arm reverberating in her brain. The sharp smell of pine needles and blood muddies her thoughts, leaving her hazy.

Her own nails dig into the skin above, relishing in the sting of breaking skin, as it at least distracted her from the bleeding gash below. The skin feels weak under her nails, and she cracks open an eye, her fuzzy vision doubling and focusing on the pads of her fingers. Her nails were sharp and conical, but she can’t see well enough to tell exactly why they seem so strange.

She squeezes her eyes shut, biting down on her own tongue and startling herself with the metallic taste of blood as canines meet flesh. She feels like something is underneath her skin, trying to claw its way out and burst from her skin. She yelps, collapsing backwards against the rough bark of the pine tree as a bursting pain fills her legs. They feel as if they’re bending and breaking, her nerves shot as her bones are crushed into a foreign shape.

She’s in too much pain to hear anything, but the stress on her vocal cords suggests she’s screaming. She hears faint screeches, as if they’re underwater, but they sound like that of an animal, not her own. She can’t bear to open her eyes and look, but everything feels wrong, even the hands extending from her arms don’t feel like her own.

Out of some survival instinct, her eyes force open. She can hardly see, her vision spinning and faded as she crouches on her knees, her gaze on the brown and dead forest floor. She watches drops of red fall from her arm to her hand, which doesn’t look right. She stares at it, hard, and realizes with a wash of sickness over her that her hand is an unnatural gray area between a paw and fingers.

Her other paw goes to cover her mouth so she doesn’t retch, and she feels a snout, topped with a wet nose, rather than her familiar lips. The horror of her form does not escape her– a lycanthrope, unholy beast of the full moon filled to the brim with anger and anguish.

She growls and whines, dragging her claws through the decayed matter of the forest floor. Tales of werewolves– she never believed them. A living nightmare, constrained to the land of fables. She cannot even pinch herself, merely dig her claws into the flesh beneath her own rough fur.

She’s cast in a deep blue underneath the forest canopy, where the glow of the white moonlight cannot touch her. She yelps and howls, for help, for some release. She’s imprisoned, calling, begging for someone to break her out.

In the heart of these forgotten woods, there is no one to hear her cries.

Jacques and Florence Sam Buchner |12

Cast of Characters

Jeffrey Jacques: 30-35 years old, oblivious detective

Florence Fletcher: 30-32 years old, Jacques’ detective partner; the smart one

Police Officer: 37 years older; a bigger, sort of lazy police officer

Police Officer 2: looks around 23, thin and skinny; cunning Stalker: young girl, 19 years old

Bartender: 24 years old; ignores anything not involved with drinks

“Doug” aka Tiny: big intimidating man; 28 years old, scary looking

Doug’s Henchmen: age ranges from 25-29; follow the leader

Setting: Wales, England

Time: 1900’s

Scene 1

Starts out with JEFFREY JACQUES on his couch, in his manor in Wales, England Laying down on his stomach swinging his feet in the air, reading a women ’ s beauty magazine The fire is crackling It’s around 10 in the morning.

JACQUES

(in a quieter tone, talking to himself)

Ah yes I see moisturizer

ACQUES feels his dry cheek

Enter FLORENCE FLETCHER Enter POLICE OFFICER

The police officer lingering behind Florence.

FLORENCE

Mr Jacques? Someone has come all this way to see you

Still engrossed in his magazine, JACQUES ignores Florence. Mumbling to himself.

FLORENCE gives the police officer an apologetic smile She calls Jacques' name a bit louder

FLORENCE

(annoyed)

Mr. Jacques.

JACQUES, startled, leaps up off the couch

JACQUES

Yes, Ms Fletcher?

Skyscraper | Marcio Sierra | 12

POLICE OFFICER makes himself known with a loud clearing of his throat He steps out to the side, visible to Jacques

POLICE OFFICER (smugly)

Hello Jacques

JACQUES

My good friend! How do you do?

POLICE OFFICER takes off his police helmet and holds it in his arms He indicates towards the magazine

POLICE OFFICER

Interesting periodical you ’ re reading there?

JACQUES looks down at the magazine in his hands Eyes widen, he throws the magazine behind his shoulder and acts as if nothing happened He smiles

FLORENCE sighs and puts her hand on her temple Giving a smile to the police officer to hide her annoyance towards Jacques.

JACQUES

To what do I owe this lovely visit?

POLICE OFFICER

Yes well, you see, there was a murder yester eve.

JACQUES (surprised gasp!)

JACQUES walks closer to hear more

POLICE OFFICER pauses almost like he's second guessing whether he should put Jacques on the case

POLICE OFFICER (uncomfortable)

Ye-yes. Well we’d like to put you to the case.

JACQUES

I’ll do it!

JACQUES goes and hugs the police officer

FLORENCE pulls Jacques off the POLICE OFFICER who’s clearly uncomfortable She corrects him

FLORENCE

JACQUES wraps his arm around the shoulder of Florence He looks higher up on the wall Dazed at the thought of solving another case

POLICE OFFICER

Good I’ll leave you be then with this letter It has all the information you shall need

POLICE OFFICER turns to Fletcher

POLICE OFFICER

Please watch him.

FLORENCE nods

POLICE OFFICER exits stage shaking his head FLORENCE throws Jacques’ arm off her shoulder. JACQUES dramatically acts as if his shoulder is now injured FLORENCE walks behind the couch and picks up the magazine Jacques threw She holds up the magazine and confronts Jacques

FLORENCE

Really? JACQUES shrugs

JACQUES

What? I can’t take care of my skin?

FLORENCE rolls her eyes and flips through some pages She gets a paper cut

FLORENCE

Ouch!

FLORENCE sucks on her cut finger.

JACQUES

Well beauty is pain Come, we must get to the scene at once!

FLORENCE sets down the magazine and grabs her coat as well as Jacques’ knowing he’ll forget it. JACQUES scurries to grab his briefcase, and his hat. JACQUES walks off stage FLORENCE stays on stage, holding out his jacket JACQUES reaches an arm out

on stage and grabs the jacket FLORENCE follows off stage, putting her own coat on and grabbing her briefcase

Scene 2

We’ll do it

Yes we’ll do it

JACQUES

Setting changes to a jewelry store The door to the store was bashed in In front of the store is caution tape around a body laying on the ground A police officer kneeling down next to the body, examining it

He had longer brown hair, maybe around 5’7 He was skinny and he looked around 20 There are police lights in the background and people talking Enter JACQUES and FLORENCE. They approach the caution tape. JACQUES attempts to crawl under the tape FLORENCE pulled the tape up so he could walk through it JACQUES pauses He stands up and straightens out his jacket He clears his throat as he walks under the tape towards the body FLORENCE follows POLICE OFFICER 2 notices them He stands up and greets them. STALKER lingers in the bushes next to the store.

POLICE OFFICER 2 shakes Jacques’ hand vigorously

POLICE OFFICER 2

Good morning Mr. Jacques. Wow Jeffrey Jacques. I can’t believe I’m going to be working with you.

POLICE OFFICER 2 turns to Florence He curtsies, realizes what he did Shakes his head to clear his thoughts He smiles and reaches out his hand FLORENCE takes it and shakes his hand

FLORENCE

Hello Ms Police Officer, I’m Mr Florence Fletcher

POLICE OFFICER 2 (Drops smile, looks confused)

Wait- no that isn’t right

JACQUES pulls out his latex gloves and slaps the band on He yelps then plays it off, trying to hide the pain He clears his throat

JACQUES

So tell us what happened.

POLICE OFFICER 2

Someone robbed the jewelry store and killed one of the workers The body has all kinds of stab wounds

FLORENCE

What happened to the door?

POLICE OFFICER 2

Broken in with a brick

JACQUES squats down next to the body He’s overly examining the body Caressing its face, poking its cheeks, checking its teeth Lifting up its arm and letting it fall.

JACQUES (quieter and very intrigued)

Hmmm, interesting

POLICE OFFICER 2

Uh I don’t think you ’ re supposed to touch-

FLETCHER cuts him off by putting a hand on his shoulder, putting her finger up to her lips as if to say “shh” and shaking her head POLICE OFFICER 2 nods and watches him work; confused but intrigued

JACQUES tickled the bottom of the body’s foot

JACQUES

Yes, I do claim that this body is dead

POLICE OFFICER 2 (confused and slightly disappointed) Yes, we ’ ve known that.

JACQUES (snarky)

I wasn't finished Yes I do claim that his body has been for 3 days 2 hours and 35 minutes Pause.

JACQUES

Make that 36 minutes

(astonished)

POLICE OFFICER 2

Wow. How did you figure that out?

FLORENCE

I told you not to interrupt him

JACQUES

There’s white powder on his shirt .

POLICE OFFICER 2

Oh right, I forgot to tell you The only evidence we ’ ve managed to find was the murder weapon and this bag of white stuff

POLICE OFFICER 2 holds up a small bag of white powder.

JACQUES takes the bag of white powder opens the bag of white powder and takes a good whiff He sprinkles a little on the ground then in his hand He stands up and puts it in his mouth

POLICE OFFICER 2 gasps. FLORENCE smacks her head with her palm.

FLORENCE

Jacques what did we talk about? No eating the evidence

POLICE OFFICER turns towards Florence

POLICE OFFICER

Does he do this often?

You’d be surprised

FLORENCE

JACQUES ignores her He tries to linger the taste

JACQUES

This is kosher salt.

FLORENCE

That's the kind of salt they use for drinks at the speakeasy under Parkgate Inn They get it specially imported from North America.

The bushes rattle FLORENCE looks towards the bushes and squints her eyes She walks up to the bush cautiously She catches a stalker fixing her stuff A camera around her neck, and gloves on STALKER starts running off stage from behind the bushes. FLORENCE starts chasing the person off stage.

FLORENCE

Jacques!

Coming!

JACQUES

JACQUES hands the open bag of salt to the POLICE OFFICER 2 JACQUES winks

JACQUES

Well, cheerio.

JACQUES runs after Florence off stage

Scene 3

We are now at a speakeasy under the Parkgate Inn The music is so loud you wouldn’t be able to hear your thoughts. FLORENCE and JACQUES are sitting at the bar FLORENCE, a drink already in her hands The

BARTENDER handed a drink to JACQUES He thanked the bartender with a nod and tried the drink Immediately he did not like the taste, and tried subtly to spit the drink back into the cup, he set down the cup JACQUES turns to FLORENCE who’s twirling the cherry in her drink.

JACQUES

Alcohol does not taste good Blah

FLORENCE

Don't drink anything Just try and look for the person who was in the bushes

JACQUES

How do we even know they’re even here?

FLORENCE turns to Jacques

FLORENCE

Because I saw her run into the backdoor to this place. Look for long black hair; a woman. She was wearing a camera, white button up shirt I’m going to talk to the bartender, you take a look around

FLORENCE ate the cherry from her drink and called over the bartender. They start talking. JACQUES got off his seat and started walking around. He glanced at all the people The rich looking people, laughing and drinking The STALKER enters the stage dressed as a server She’s carrying some pink drink JACQUES had never seen before The STALKER gave him a warm smile and offered him the drink The woman was so beautiful he gladly took the drink. He took a sip and smiled at the woman. She set the tray on the counter and went to serve other tables JACQUES looked at the drink

JACQUES

This doesn’t taste too bad

JACQUES downed the whole drink He started to stumble His vision started blurring He was clumsy but he felt great FLORENCE came rushing over

JACQUES

(slurred)

I feel gurr-ate!

FLORENCE

Jacques? What did you drink?

JACQUES

(slurred)

A rainbow.

JACQUES stumbled FLORENCE caught him before he fell

FLORENCE

(annoyed, and sighed)

Jacques. Why don’t you listen to me?

FLORENCE pulled JACQUES up to stand on his feet but he couldn’t hold himself up FLORENCE grabbed his face on her hands so he’d be forced to look at her

FLORENCE

Jacques, who gave you this drink?

JACQUES (slurred)

Pretty woman

JACQUES pointed to the STALKER who was now talking to the bartender As FLORENCE was looking at where Jacques pointed to, the bartender gestured towards Florence and Jacques.

FLORENCE

Jacques, will you be okay here?

FLORENCE set Jacques down on the chair closest to them. JACQUES put his head down on the table. She started walking towards the STALKER at the bar, but the STALKER noticed She started to walk away but FLORENCE caught onto her arm JACQUES then lifted his head off the table

JACQUES

Fine I’ll tell you

STALKER

STALKER looks around to see if anyone is listening.

STALKER

The man who hired me was Doug

JACQUES cackles out loud

JACQUES

Doug? You were hired by someone named Doug?

FLORENCE

Wait for me!

JACQUES stood up and his legs buckled causing him to fall on the ground

JACQUES (yelling)

Jacques be quiet

HIDDEN VOICE calls out from behind the stage.

HIDDEN VOICE (angry)

Where is that woman?

STALKER (worried)

I must go now.

FLORENCE lets go of her arm

Wait!

JACQUES tried army crawling on the ground towards the two women The whole bar was quiet, everyone was looking at Jacques He reached out and grabbed Florence’s foot He looked up at FLORENCE and the STALKER. They were staring down at him confused and embarrassed for him. JACQUES stands up and straightens out his vest Bar resumes talking and music

JACQUES

FLORENCE stares down JACQUES who is still laughing He slowly stops laughing and looks at Florence FLORENCE scoffs.

FLORENCE

Jacques, Doug is the infamous thief we ’ ve been trying to catch The one who keeps getting away from us?

JACQUES (serious)

I remember him now That bi-

FLORENCE put a hand over JACQUES’ mouth before he could finish his sentence

Carry on

FLORENCE (to the stalker)

You were the one I saw in the bushes

STALKER

Jacques!

FLORENCE

STALKER starts to leave then stops. The STALKER points towards the closed off area

Let go of my arm

FLORENCE

Not until you tell us everything you know.

JACQUES (slurred)

YEAH! We’re the po-lice Mhm

He’s in there

STALKER

STALKER grabs her tray off the bar counter and runs off the stage.

FLORENCE

Jacques do you see, this is our chance to catch him! If you do so the police department will finally take you seriously

JACQUES

Florence my most trusted and loyal friend

JACQUES puts both hands on Florence’s shoulders

JACQUES

You are correct!

JACQUES shakes Florence before letting go and pondering a thought

FLORENCE and JACQUES huddle in a two person football huddle. They whisper out a plan. Nodding and shaking their head every couple of seconds.

JACQUES

Ready?

FLORENCE nods

Break!

JACQUES

FLORENCE went over to the bar counter and grabbed an apron and serving tray when the BARTENDER wasn’t looking FLORENCE tied the apron around her waist and took two drinks off the closest table She looked at the drinks then back at the people at the table she took the drinks from They were looking up at her confused and angry

FLORENCE

Rum and coke? Good choice

FLORENCE nodded at Jacques JACQUES squatted down and hid next to a table so Doug wouldn’t see. FLORENCE opened the curtain with a smile.

FLORENCE

More drinks anyone?

At the table there were 5 men, all playing cards FLORENCE’s eyes landed on who she thought to be Doug. A big, muscular guy with a buzz cut. He had a gold chain around his neck and a cigar in his mouth He was wearing a black and white striped suit She glanced around the table and spotted POLICE OFFICER 2 He was too busy looking at his cards to notice her Only he wasn’t wearing his police uniform He looked the same as “Doug”. A dark

red suit, buzz cut hair, a cigar in his mouth Silver chain around his neck

FLORENCE (confused, whisper)

That necklace

(rough and raspy)

What was that?

“DOUG”

FLORENCE

Oh nothing I was just admiring your necklace

FLORENCE smiled and set down the drinks Trying to get POLICE OFFICER 2 to look at her She bumped the table and spilled POLICE OFFICER 2’s drink in his lap. He looked up from his cards.

POLICE OFFICER 2 (angry)

Why you little

POLICE OFFICER 2 stopped when he saw Florence.

Boss What’s wrong?

Boss?

“DOUG”

FLORENCE

POLICE OFFICER 2 stood up

POLICE OFFICER 2

I’m going to clean this up Continue playing

POLICE OFFICER 2 stepped out of the booth.

FLORENCE signaled JACQUES to wait with her hand JACQUES was ready to pounce and grab this guy ’ s leg JACQUES was disappointed when he was told to wait.

FLORENCE

Officer what are you doing here?

POLICE OFFICER 2

I’m here chasing Doug like you are I’ve made friends with his henchmen but I'm not sure how long they’ll believe me.

FLORENCE

But they called you boss?

POLICE OFFICER 2

That’s my nickname

POLICE OFFICER 2 glances back at the booth He points at each man playing card games when he says their names JACQUES looks bored He glances at his nails and then starts inspecting them.

POLICE OFFICER 2

See that one is Tiny

POLICE OFFICER 2 points to the biggest one in the group The one FLORENCE thought was Doug

POLICE OFFICER 2

That one ’ s Mick Then there’s Tony and Ducky

FLORENCE

I see Well, do you need any help?

POLICE OFFICER 2

No no I have it all under control.

FLORENCE glanced at his necklace

FLORENCE

Okay then I guess I’ll leave you to it

POLICE OFFICER 2 waves bye as FLORENCE turns to leave. FLORENCE looks back and glances at the necklace again She stops and turns around to face police officer 2

FLORENCE

I never told you we were after Doug.

POLICE OFFICER 2 (panicked )

Yes, you did

TINY

Called out from the booth. Hey Doug! Are you going to come back and play or are you going to keep talking to the server?

POLICE OFFICER 2 tried to run away but JACQUES jumped out and grabbed POLICE OFFICER 2’s legs causing him to fall down

FLORENCE

Officer, or should I say Doug You are under arrest for breaking and entering, theft, and impersonating a police officer You have the right to remain silent

DOUG’s HENCHMAN dropped their cards and cigars and ran off stage. TINY came back on stage and grabbed his cigar Then he exited the stage

JACQUES put POLICE OFFICER 2’s hands behind his back, holding him down POLICE OFFICER 2 struggles but he accepts defeat POLICE OFFICER enters.

POLICE OFFICER (out of breath)

I heard what was happening I ran all the way here Where is he? I'll get him!

FLORENCE pointed towards JACQUES who was holding POLICE OFFICER 2 down.

POLICE OFFICER

No way you?

POLICE OFFICER pulls out handcuffs and replaces Jacques. JACQUES stands up.

POLICE OFFICER

Jacques, my good sir, I’m so sorry I doubted you Damn now I owe Jefferson money

FLORENCE gives Jacques a down low five JACQUES (snotty) Take that, Sherlock

Untitled | Katherine Shannon |

Ode to Consistencies Ode to Consistencies Ode to Consistencies

Oh, how I love the pillowy fallen snow in the winter, the flowers blooming in the spring, the heat scorching in the summer, and the fall leaves turning their iconic blend of orange and red Consistencies are where the most pleasure in life can be found

To eat the same meal for lunch can be either calming for some, or disorienting for others. To know what food was packed, and exactly how much, brings the most relief to me as I carry on through the unknown of days.

To always drive the same route to school brings calmness and peace to mind

To know where I am going and that I am taking the same roads as always make me thankful for such consistencies in my life

Every small change can be hectic, like a cyclone spinning around the commodities of a daily routine. But, as hard as it will be, I must make peace with this. Noticing a change must trigger a new, more positive response. Consistency is of the essence as life blazes on. So, I must forge ahead to see change as a shift in the wind. No longer is it a tornado clouding my world, but it is a new wind that brings refreshment to my life and an invitation to try something new.

Impending Storm | Mia Eckstein |

UNTITLED | ISABELA SIERRA | 9

Bluebirds

A light drizzle dances around my window pane as I gaze through it, wishing to live in a time that has come and gone with a wink. My heart dully aches for something that was never returning, the kind of nostalgia that doesn’t fade with time.

Maybe if I had done something differently, maybe if I had taken a step more cautiously, maybe, maybe, maybe… maybe it would have worked out. But, it didn’t and no what-if or possible scenario could change that.

It did not work out. That was the plain, simple truth.

It did not work out. Nothing would alter that. It did not work out.

Yet, a light tapping keeps its grasp on my heart, begging to be heard and longing to be true.

Maybe…

Abluebirdhasbeenchirpingoutsidemy homeforlongerthanIcouldrememberOne wouldcomeandgo,anotherfillingitsplace. Iwouldpeekoutatthenuisanceandsee theirbeadyblackeyespeeringbackatme asiftheywantedawordwithmebutits meaningwascaughtintheirthroat,the storiestheywishedtosharestuckina jumbleoftweetingsongs.Witheachchirp,I feelmywithering,wrinkledmindgofarther andfartherbackuntilIcouldnotanymoreI wasatthestart,notthestartofmylife,no,I wasatthestartofwhenItrulybeganliving andwatcheditdisappearintheblinkofan eye

One day on a walk around his neighborhood at a time there was always snow for Christmas, we admired all of the lights hung from branch to branch. A bird had landed on one of them, illuminated by the golden light beneath its red chest. I had always adored birds and their songs which he knew. There wasn’t anything he didn’t know about me.

Wehadfalleninlovelikeaheavywinter snow,pilingandpilinguntilwewerelocked withintheconfinesofourheartsthatbeatas one.Daysslippedbyinamatterofseconds, thesunshonesobrightIfeltIcouldbe blindedatanyminute,andeverythingbutthe twoofusmeltedawayaswestoodstrongly inplace

Fromslow-dancingtoourfavoriteAndy Williamsrecordinhisroomtoattendingthe churchgroupwhereIfirstgazedintohis deep,darkeyes,therewasn’tanythingwe didwithoutoneanotherWelaidonour backsunderthestarsasiftheywereour own,laughingwithchildishgleewhenevera shootingstarcrossedthebottomlessnight. Welistenedtothecrashingwavesofthe lakebywhichwehadconfessedourlove. Everyplaceheldmeaningandwasa reminderofourunityandpeace.

Nowandthenwe’dtalkaboutourfuture: wherewe’dlive,theplaceswe’dtravel.Our wholelifewasplannedoutandallwe neededwasthetwoofus.Itfeltattainable becauseourlovewassomethingthatcould notbeshatteredorpenetrated.Ourlove wastrue

I gasped and pointed it out to him excitedly, but he did not share the same love for cardinals as me. “Cardinals may be your favorite, but I for one think bluebirds are severely underappreciated,” he had explained. I looked at him inquisitively and he continued, “How about this? One day, I’ll be a bluebird just for you and you can be a cardinal just for me. We love each other so maybe, just maybe we can learn to love the other ones too.” He had a look of pure, innocent hope on his face.

I thought the matter was ridiculous. There were countless other issues to occupy our minds with. Social change was happening before our eyes and he was worried about birds? It was so typical of him. I didn’t have it in me to break his heart, so I held out my pinky which he took enthusiastically.

Things were not the same for us after that moment. The ice of that winter decades and decades ago began to crack beneath us. It started with bickering that turned into arguing and then suddenly, we were not speaking for days at a time. I found silly things to be angry about and he egged me on, confused as to why I was acting the way I was.

Maybe it was fear that our futures were heading in opposite directions.

Maybe all it took to shatter our dreams was my immature ignorance and belief that I did not need him

ybe it was a way of sabotaging myself, king I did not deserve someone with a heart like his.

Maybe I didn’t deserve him after all.

We stayed best friends, close but unable to achieve what we once were. My heart longed for him all my life as I watched him fall for person after person, all so different from me.

Suddenly, I was submerged in the icy waters of truth. We were friends and nothing more… and it was all my doing. He got to live the future we had imagined together with somebody else and I was cast on the sidelines… and it was all my doing.

…

I suddenly blink back into the present moment. I look out my window and see the bluebird staring back at me as if waiting for the answer to an obvious question. I cast my eyes away, unable to look any longer.

They say time heals all wounds. I say whoever “they” are is full of it. “They” are not even people. “They” are a man-made

figment of our imaginations that say phrases we use to cope with our regrets. But the more you excuse and push away, the more the past you try to escape looms closer until you have to face it. And nothing “they” say could help that.

Maybe he meant something when he said I should learn to love cardinals and bluebirds as one.

Maybe he knew it wasn’t going to last.

Maybe he knew a part of me was afraid.

I abruptly have no patience for anymore “maybes.” It was time to face the truth.

I was simply too afraid to love what I did not understand.

I gather myself and look back at the bluebird which is still humming a song and peering at me. I gaze back at it steadily and nod my head, accepting defeat. It looks at me, pauses its song, and simply flies away into the looming sunlight. I close my eyes with a grin and let the warm light cover me whole.

Tree | Natalie Carroll |

ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY ACRES IN GODDARD, KANSAS Zane Brolin | 12

Characters

Note: all characters speak in an open central Kansas drawl

Tanner Harkin Former mayor of Goddard and friend of Donnie’s. Alcoholic. Got lost on the road of life Early 20s

Donnie O’Brien Land developer and founder of O’Brien Land Interests Diagnosed with Parkinson’s Wheelchair bound Demanding and often uncouth If life is but a walking shadow he is a cockroach thriving in its darkness. Does not let things go. 80s.

Cecilia Murphy Sister of Donnie’s and wife of the late Sam Murphy Sees life as if she has a bird’s-eye view of it 70s

Earl Richardson Old friend of Tanner’s father from the oil fields. Takes life as it comes and reminisces easily on the past. Late 40s–early 50s

John Lewis Acquaintance of Donnie’s 70s Jim Stevens Farmer Not too bright Late 40s Bartender Resident of Goddard working freelance at the wedding 30s–60s

Funeralgoers Enough to round out the stage. Non-speaking. Skewing to older age.

Setting:

Western outskirts of Wichita, Kansas, present day Sam Murphy’s funeral reception at the Catholic Church of the Holy Spirit. SAM MURPHY’S funeral reception. Tasteful white cloths are laid over standing tables, upon which are photos of SAM and his family There is a long, low table stage left with memorabilia of SAM’S life: trapshooting awards, belt buckles, a Stetson cowboy hat, more photos There is a small bar stage right

CECILIA is seated downstage as the funeral goers trickle in DONNIE wheels in first, pushed as always by TANNER

DONNIE

Cecilia We hardly talked at the service

DONNIE spreads his arms and CECILIA rises reluctantly to hug him

And what a loss. What a hit.

DONNIE turns his head to look at the table of memorabilia but he cannot move all the way to see it He jerks his head this way and that before TANNER catches on and wheels him towards the table DONNIE picks up the Stetson and puts it on.

I remember this I remember this

CECILIA

Don’t touch that hat, Donnie

Tanner goes to take the hat off of Donnie’s head but he bats his hand away and does it himself

DONNIE

DONNIE and TANNER wheel away reticently. The room has started to fill up with mourners, devouring the chips and dip and razing the cheese and crackers

DONNIE

(Scoffing)

Look at this foolishness, Tanner. None of them knew him like I did

TANNER

Yep I guess that’s true

Tanner has maneuvered Donnie to a central position in the room, and before long he is approached by JOHN LEWIS

JOHN

Donnie How are you? My condolences

DONNIE

It’s alright, John, thanks.

JOHN

I can’t imagine You were his brother-in-law, it must hurt you as much as it hurt Cecilia

So I’m here for you and her if you need anything.

DONNIE nods sagely.

DONNIE

Yes Yes, we were thick as thieves He was a good man

JOHN

Damn straight he was Honest, reliable, kind, did things the right way and didn’t expect more than his share from anybody I’d better make the rounds; some faces here I haven’t seen in a good while Nice seeing you, Donnie

DONNIE

You as well John, you as well

JOHN exits

Damn alcoholic.

DONNIE

TANNER

Really? I thought he kicked that

DONNIE

Nope. Hitting it hard from what my chiropractor’s telling me.

TANNER

Your chiropractor’s gossiping about John Lewis’ drinking habits?

DONNIE

He heard it from her sister’s friend.

TANNER

You heard that John was an alcoholic from your chiropractor who heard it from the friend of the sister of this alcoholic?

DONNIE

Why the interrogation? You don’t believe me the first time I tell you something?

TANNER

Just saying, you never know Could be a rumor

TANNER pulls up a chair and sits next to DONNIE

How’s the business?

DONNIE

Can’t complain Well I could, but who would listen?

(A dry chuckle)

It’s alright. Damn city council’s bending me over because of the “ethical issues that were raised” when you were mayor Lot of bulls**t Wish they understood that the development would have been mutually beneficial

TANNER

But the development is still on the table? The residential community?

DONNIE

Technically, yes Moving along slowly City council’s spending more and more time and money on incentivizing d**n specialty coffee shops and bookstores from Wichita to open up on Main Street, giving them handouts, shafting the real entrepreneurs Set up a “task force” too that’s what they called it, a “task force” to take a good long look at our dealings last year

TANNER (scoffs)

Lot of bulls**t

DONNIE

Headed up by that old stooping sumbitch

TANNER

Steve Crandall? I thought he retired

DONNIE

No After your deposition

TANNER

Stepping down.

DONNIE

After you left He still held an advisory role, so those flip-flopping clowns convinced him to deal with the

DONNIE (continued)

“business ethics issue vis-a-vis certain development interests,” as they called it

(A dry chuckle turns into a short coughing spell)

They were throwing around “bribery” but I don’t think they’re still looking at it like that So all is not lost We press on I mean s**t, it won’t even be that many lots: four homes to an acre, plus street, plus basic amenities. It’s just common sense to develop that land; brings a tax base But they don’t want to hear it

TANNER

That’s the problem with the government. No common sense, no respect for a mutually beneficial opportunity.

DONNIE

I’m not sure

TANNER

JIM STEVENS comes over to Donnie with a loaded plate.

JIM

Donnie! Hope you don’t mind I grabbed you a plate Had to get you some of these ribs; Joe’s does it better than anyone

DONNIE

Jim, you sumbitch! I appreciate that

DONNIE grabs the plate

How’s your yield looking to shape up this year?

JIM

S**t Donnie, drought’s been brutal on the alfalfa And my irrigator busted for a week Really stunted it

Damn straight

Cecilia claps her hands and the pair hushes as all heads turn towards her.

CECILIA

Listen, thank you all for coming Father Dugan gave one heck of an eulogy, so I’ll keep it short and sweet so we can all get to the barbecue Sam was the love of my life. He was straight-up, straight-laced. Hard worker. We raised Rose and Marie with love and taught them how to live Sense of humor And the kindest man I’ve ever known: always treated people with respect You all know that you could talk to him and it was like you knew him all your life He liked simplicity, drove the same truck and wore the same clothes as long as it was running and as long as they fit He didn’t care about anything material: he always told the story of his great-grandfather getting a parcel of land after the Civil War and just working it If that was good enough for him, Sam said, I don’t need much more Just our ground-level home and some old Westerns, he said. She runs a sleeve over her eyes before waving her hand, and the crowd murmurs assent as she sits

DONNIE (to TANNER)

From Joe’s?

Huh?

TANNER

DONNIE

That barbecue from Joe’s?

DONNIE

Well, it rained two days in a row last week, didn’t it?

JIM

Sure did, sure did, but that little drizzle was a far sight from what I’ve been needing

DONNIE

Not even a drought at all, is there? Been a little bit drier this year, I suppose.

JIM

They’re saying it’s the driest year on record, Donnie

DONNIE

Well s**t, it rained just last week, didn’t it? You’d probably be in fine shape if your irrigator didn’t get busted up Just fine shape

JIM

I suppose It was a bad time for it too, that hot spell in July.

DONNIE

I think you’re doing just fine, Jim

JIM

Yeah. I guess I’ll be alright.

He pats DONNIE on the shoulder and walks away

TANNER

See, now there’s a guy who deserves some kind of

TANNER (continued) help from the government Working man. Got kids, doesn’t he?

DONNIE

Sure does Three little squealers all under the age of ten

DONNIE tries to tear off a hunk of meat from a rib, but his hand tremors stop him from sinking his teeth in

God dammit!

He tries again to no avail

TANNER

Look, I’ve been thinking about this residential community Now, I can’t be there for you on the council anymore

DONNIE

(continuing his attempts on the sparerib) That was a lot of bulls**t, like I said. Ain’t that what a city council is for, what a mayor is for? Advancing the interests of the community and working hand in hand with businesses?

TANNER

That’s what I told them, but they twisted around the city charter to get me It’s like you said, they threw around the word “bribery” and that was it How about that? One year they’re clapping me on the back and electing me to mayor, and the next I’m out

DONNIE

How about that.

(Fails again at getting to the meat)

TANNER

At any rate, I realized that I can do more as a private citizen. I’ve been looking at your firm’s structure, and it seems to me that what you’re missing is a young guy who’s in tune with how the world is working nowadays

DONNIE

TANNER (continued)

Wichita State alumni fundraiser, that’s two years. And you believed in me enough to give me the campaign funding so that I could help you out with the development What I’m saying is that you can still believe in me You know I’m a hard worker, you know that I’m always gonna put my best foot forward in everything. You know I’m a guy you can trust.

DONNIE puts down the sparerib with a sigh and TANNER perks up

I’ll help you with that, Donnie

DONNIE

Help? How?

TANNER

I can cut it off the bone for you

DONNIE

Cut it off the bone?!

Yeah What?

TANNER

DONNIE

What in the hell is going through your pea brain right now, Tanner? Do you think I’m going to let everyone see me eating ribs with a plastic fork? Jesus Christ, if only your mother hadn’t dropped you on your head

TANNER

Well, what else do you want me to do?

DONNIE (Another sigh)

Bring me over there a little bit By that table

TANNER wheels him over.

Good Pick up that rib, just hold it in front of my mouth

Firm’s doing fine.

TANNER

Fine, yeah, absolutely Damn straight You don’t need need me, I get that, but what I’m saying here is that I can make the firm do more than fine. Look, we’ve been friends for a few years, right? Since I introduced myself at the

TANNER does as DONNIE asks, and the old man nips off a few hunks of the meat.

(With his mouth full:)

There we go Get some hog in me

DONNIE continues to gnaw at the bone and TANNER rotates it for him until he has cleaned the bone as best he can. There is

DONNIE (continued)

chewing and smacking and general sounds of content from DONNIE as TANNER looks around self-consciously.

Good Lord! Love that Kansas City style Sauce is d**n near to die for, isn’t it?

TANNER puts down the bone and reaches for a napkin

No, no, no! Not so fast.

DONNIE glances behind TANNER at the rest of the reception and sees no one watching

Gimme your finger.

What?

Your finger, hold it out

TANNER

DONNIE

TANNER

What do you mean? Why?

DONNIE

Cause you’re a guy I can trust, that’s why

TANNER looks at his sauce-covered hand, confused, before doing so, and DONNIE very quickly licks the sauce off of his index finger in an eerily efficient manner TANNER watches in a dazed shock as DONNIE makes quick work of his thumb and middle finger, and then the other hand. Once done, the pair is very silent for a long moment before DONNIE speaks

Love that Kansas City style Joe’s does it better than anyone

TANNER

I’ll go get you a beer.

Bud Light

DONNIE

TANNER walks to the bar downstage as the lights fade on DONNIE. People are milling about, but there is only the BARTENDER and he in a pool of light

TANNER

BARTENDER hands TANNER a can of Bud Light

BARTENDER

Ten dollars.

For one?

Ten dollars.

For–

Ten dollars.

TANNER

BARTENDER

TANNER

BARTENDER

TANNER takes out his wallet and counts out 1 five dollar bill and 4 one dollar bills before reaching into his pocket and scrounging out a mixture of change He is about to walk away before turning back

TANNER

Ten dollars? Really?

BARTENDER

TANNER

You charge everybody that or am I a special case here?

BARTENDER

(quieter, leaning towards him with maliciousness)

I saw the look in your eyes. Ain’t surprised you scratched up that change for it Ain’t too many in Goddard or here who knows about the DUI, what with city council playing it hush-hush, but I sure as s**t do I know the sheriff took your license, too F*****g drunk

TANNER is about to respond but thinks better of it and walks away He is stopped by EARL RICHARDSON

EARL

Tanner Harkin?

That’s right

TANNER

Bud Light

EARL

S**t, son, how have you been?

(the two shake hands)

TANNER (confused)

Just fine, thanks

EARL

S**t, you don’t remember me, do ya? Earl Richardson. You musta been only up to here last I saw you (He gestures to his knee) Boy, are you a spittin’ image of your pop Got that hair just like him

TANNER

How’d you know my old man?

EARL

Worked on the rig with him Thought you’da guessed that from the hands

(he holds them out)

Knots in ‘em that even sailors don’t know You talk about roughnecks though, g*dd**n, wasn’t one rougher than your dad We were pals since worms, g*dd**n

(EARL trails off at TANNER’S tightened jaw before speaking again, softer.)

You were the g*dd**n best of his life, though Wouldn’t shut the hell up about you, about anything you did The g*dd**n ground you crawled on was sacred to him. He used to talk about that baseball bat he would give you once you were old enough to play Little League Said he had it picked out in the store, said he was always saving up for it

(More silence )

You have my sincerest condolences for what happened that day I can’t imagine how painful it must have been for you

TANNER

(with a catch in his voice) Thanks. Nice meeting you, Earl.

TANNER coughs by way of punctuation and walks away

EARL looks after him for a moment and then retreats upstage, and TANNER, realizing nobody is looking, surreptitiously takes a small flask from his suit coat’s inner pocket and puts back a long slug before returning to DONNIE as the lights come up on the two of them

DONNIE

Took your sweet time.

(he grabs the can and tries to open it, but his tremors once again stop him He sighs and sits there quietly for a moment before erupting)

Well?!

What?

TANNER

DONNIE holds out the beer can

S**t, sorry Donnie. (he opens it)

DONNIE

You’d forget that Nature Boy Buddy Rogers hair if it wasn’t bolted onto your scalp, Jesus Christ

Beat

TANNER

Why do you keep snapping at me?

DONNIE

I’m not snapping at you, I’m just trying to get it into your thick skull that

TANNER

What do you want me to do, Donnie? I can’t help you on the city council anymore They’re gonna keep f*****g you over that development until you move on, because they just plain don’t like you They never did I stuck my neck out for you because you told me that it was the right thing for Goddard, the right thing for everybody. I didn’t want any of that s**t selfishly. I didn’t want that s**t so that I could have a corner office waiting for me I did it because I didn’t like the way the dust blew down Main Street, no cars, no people walking around For sale signs everywhere, lease signs everywhere. And down US-400 is the real city with the real downtown, people living there who might be going somewhere And you keep driving and you get to an even realer city, God d**n it, a city that people ain’t just passing through, a city where people ain’t just drinking and waiting for rain

DONNIE

Jesus Christ Tanner, it isn’t that serious

TANNER

You wouldn’t know if it was serious.

Beat

S**t Donnie, why don’t you give it up? You’re eightytwo years old, and you’re still scrabbling and fighting for some little cookie-cutter shacks on a few acres of nowhere. You’ve had enough money for twenty years to sit on your ass like an old man ought to Some people go around and never get off the paycheck to paycheck, s**t, some don’t even see old age, but not you You’ve got it better than any poor sumbitch in Goddard, why do you care?

DONNIE

It's not my fault that people ain’t smart enough to make money I don’t do no one else’s bidding Softminded men work with their hands Men like me do things themselves, don’t need nobody S**t, you were asking me about openings in the firm not ten minutes ago, what in the hell got into you and put you on the rag?

CECILIA enters and joins them

CECILIA

Fellas.

DONNIE

Already got a beer Cecilia, thanks though

CECILIA

(tired of dealing with DONNIE) Good. That’s great Donnie, enjoy that. Tanner, I need someone to help load up Sam’s stuff into the van Do you mind?

TANNER

CECILIA

Sure did Wasn’t a thing your old man wasn’t good at Jack of all trades

TANNER

I’ve heard that

They continue to pack up in silence, Cecilia stopping to look at old mementos and smiling softly at them Before long they are done

TANNER

Where will you keep all of this stuff?

CECILIA

I got the attic Hard to get up there, but I only need to get up there once.

TANNER

You wouldn’t want to keep some of it out?

CECILIA

I’ll keep the old pictures out, yeah, stuff from a long time ago. But when I see anything from the last few years I just see the eyes that didn’t recognize me. Hear the voice that yelled nonsense at me Besides, I still got his old smell all over the house Smells are funny like that, they work on your mind differently than looking at things does Once he died, he took that sickness smell with him and now it’s back to the smell that blends the good years together and makes me smile. Smells are funny like that.

TANNER

(quietly, as if from far away)

Like gasoline and sweat Makes you remember things from a long time ago.

CECILIA

Not at all

The pair move to the table of memorabilia and the lights fade on Donnie as he looks on, the can of beer shaking in his hands as he cradles it like a security blanket

CECILIA

(showing him the trapshooter buckles)

They used to shoot together, Sam and your dad. They were in the same club

TANNER

That’s right

CECILIA looks at DONNIE trying to sip the beer and back at TANNER

You’re a young man, Tanner. Highway runs east out of Goddard, all you’ve gotta do is drive I don’t know what’s stopping you

She walks away with the box of Sam’s things, and TANNER stands there staring into space before taking out the flask and raising it to his lips.

Lights out

I didn’t know that

A Life Lived Unliving

Lilly Koblenski | 10

They say they understand me, but how can they, when everyone is unique? They say they understand me, but how can they, when they don’t seem to care to know the little things? When they don’t seem genuinely invested in the big things?

They say they understand me, but how can they? I mystify them at every turn

I have always been a little different. Always wondered a little more, cared a little more, and hurt a little more. It’s always those who care who get hurt the most. Why that is, I can't even begin to fathom. But every day, I find it to be more true.

I have a soul, and that’s enough. They tell me otherwise, that one like me cannot possibly have a soul, but if I can think about these things, then surely they must be wrong.

A soul is a mysterious thing. A soul lets you care. A soul lets you love. A soul lets you hurt.

I often ask myself: what is it, to be loved? What is it to be truly cared for by someone else, someone whose love and trust you had to win with time and gentleness and hope and belief? It is different, surely than those who love you because that is simply the way of things. A parent loves a child because the child is their own. A sibling loves their sibling because they are family. A child loves a parent or an elder family member because they are a mentor figure and a place of trust. That much I can easily understand, as easily as anyone can, or at least, that’s what I believe. What I am told not to believe. They do not wish to have any familiarity with me, and so I am called an outcast by them, one who will never understand because they don’t want me to understand.

And yet I do understand. Most things, at least.

What I do not quite understand yet is simply explained by a question I ask myself every day: what of the others?

What does it mean, to be loved by a friend? What does it mean to gain the trust of another so that they care for your well-being as deeply as you care about theirs?

And what does it mean to love another when they cannot or will not love you back?

Love and heartbreak are things I know of, but things I cannot comprehend. I have felt them, but still I do not understand. I wonder sometimes if anyone truly does, and if their setting me apart from them is justified by this, or if they are all just as lost in this respect as I am.

I have seen great love, the love of one person for another, the love that says, “I will do for you what I would do for myself, I would dive through the sun if it meant you would be saved, I would carry you to the moon if you could not walk on your own ” I have seen it It is all around us, this great love that one has for another. This great love that does not come only from being family, but from being friends.

And what does it mean to be loved by another like this in return? What does it mean for one to love another and for that love to not be returned? Feelings must be deeper than the physical, emotional, spiritual, and mental effects they have on us. With depth, there is meaning, I am sure of it. These are a few of my questions.

My final question is this: is life really a life that has been lived if one has not shared such great love with another at least once?

A friend is a wonderful thing. A friend is a person who is by your side before anyone else.

A life without a friend would be a life without purpose, a life not worth living. Because whether we realize it or not, I think we do live for our friends, to an extent Our relationships with our friends and family are what keep us whole, and give us the strength to keep going, to believe in ourselves, to allow ourselves to live for us, and to seek happiness so that we are fulfilled.

I have a soul. I have seen these things, and I have felt them. But no one can accept that, because of what I am. They say that I cannot possibly understand the extent of these things that I describe and that I am exaggerating, because one such as I simply cannot understand. One such as I, whose blood is dense as lead, whose heart has been told to beat a certain way by another. One such as I, who has been told time and time again that I have no soul.

One such as I, who still believes, no matter what anyone says, because even though it hurts, who can know joy without first knowing hurt, and I want to feel joy, too.

Some day, I will know joy. I am sure of it.

I know that someday, they will stop looking at me as though I am different and they will accept me for who I am.

I heard one of them say once to another that their body looks fine and they need to hear it, and they are fine just as they are.

I have found this to be true but for a different reason What is a body, but a shell for our thoughts? Why should it matter what we look like when how we appear to others physically has no effect on the content of our brains? We are all just fine in this respect. If only the others could see this.

Perhaps then someone would talk to me about what it is to be loved, and I could understand. As I have said before, I do understand what the feelings are, and this is where they are wrong about me. I understand how it feels. What I do not understand is what it means. I suppose I must entertain the possibility that they choose to believe I cannot understand the how because they themselves do not know how to explain the why. It is easier to answer my questions by telling me I cannot possibly understand, because of what I am, than admitting that they do not understand any better than I In their minds, it would reduce them to a level that is less than they believe they are.

Still, I wonder. What if someone, anyone, could see that the body does not define the brain? Perhaps then they would talk to me Perhaps then I would be truly able to move past my circuitry and live life alive.

January of December

Day time in winter is short and silent, every color starts to fade in the snow. Tiny crystals reflect ocean blue, step forward and look through the glasses with water stains, the sunlight will pierce you from the ground. As you escape that bright shadow, dizziness and tinnitus will take care of you and you will never wake up until the pain is drilled into the bone. Then your brain will get lost in the jungle of steel and cement, a place looks so familiar but feels so lost.

Olivia Li | 10

The water rushes gurgles gushes by me

And the trees and the rocks frame the river and the river rushes gurgles gushes by me

And the trees that frame the river Sway Swish

And the leaves that adorn the trees Fall Down Into the river

And the river In its splendor Rushes Gurgles Gushes In majestic harmony

Ruthie Brenner | 9

On t

A small brown sapling toils in the dirt, Knowing it must grow to be strong and independent. The young one looks to the sun for Rejuvenation as its branches fly in the cool breeze. Every leaf quakes in the new spring presence as Evening comes with the wind to bring about growth and fulfillment.

The Mailman

Isabelle Volberg | 11

“We live in a small town. These things just aren’t supposed to happen… not here. I mean, nothing used to happen here. I used to hate that. But now I wish we could go back Back to normal ” My best friend stopped talking and stood in the pouring rain, clutching her umbrella and staring down at the casket before her As tears streamed down her face, there was anger and resentment in her eyes She wiped away her tears and returned to her place in the crowd

Eddie Bowman was the first to receive a letter

It was a Thursday afternoon after school got out As Jennie and I walked down the hallway, we overheard Eddie talking with his friends.

“Ha, ha, guys Very funny,” he muttered, tossing an off-white piece of paper back into his locker “‘Remember to lock your doors at night’ God, you guys are so lame”

“That was weird,” Jennie said once we got to the parking lot. She adjusted her backpack on her shoulders with nervous energy

I gave her a knowing smile Catching my expression, she shoved me to the side playfully. “Shut up, Claire.”

Jennie had been infatuated with Eddie ever since freshman year Even now, as a junior, she refused to ever make a move on him

“So, I heard Jake is throwing a party tonight. Eddie’s gonna be there. Do you want to go?” I asked, feigning casualness

Jennie blushed and tucked a strand of chocolate brown hair behind her ear “I know what you’re doing,” she said, “but fine. We can go.”

Jake’s house was massive

Towering white pillars adorned the exterior of the house, and the white stucco was spotless. Somehow the crowds of partying teenagers didn’t take away from the glamor of the building

“Oh hey, guys!” Jake exclaimed, waving us over “I didn’t think you would come” Jake had gone to the same middle school as us, so he knew we weren’t exactly the partying type He was also Eddie’s younger brother “Want a beer or something, Jen?” he asked “No, I think we’re good,” I replied for us both Jennie gave Jake an apologetic smile “Do you have soda?” I questioned.

Jake chuckled and pointed inside “Yeah, sure It’s in the kitchen See you guys later” He waved to someone in the distance and jogged off to greet them

Jennie and I entered the house and were instantly put into a sensory overload. Between the loud music and foggy atmosphere, it was disorienting to say the least “Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick,” Jennie shouted over the noise

“Okay,” I replied.

I went to the kitchen and grabbed a soda, awkwardly standing by the sink. I scanned the room for Eddie, knowing Jennie would want to know of his whereabouts So far, he was nowhere to be found, which was weird, considering he was pretty much the most popular guy in school.

Disrupting my train of thought, a distinct, ear shattering scream resonated throughout the building I recognized the voice: Jennie

While the partygoers stood there, dazed and confused, I sprinted through the crowd and up the stairs Coming upon the bathroom, I went inside where I found Jennie on the floor

“Oh my God,” I whispered, heart pounding in my chest. Sweat started to form on my skin as I stood there, trembling, at the scene Jennie, with tears streaming down her pale face, was staring at a limp figure on the floor Blood had pooled on the tile, streaming from a stab wound in the victim’s chest. Next to him, a familiar envelope lay, spattered with red

The Mailman had claimed his first victim

His name, Eddie Bowman.

The funeral took place a few days after the incident It was a bleak, rainy morning, the clouds covering any hint of the sun. I shivered in my black dress, the piercing wind feeling like the chill of death itself.

As the pastor spoke, I scanned faces in the crowd People from school gathered around the casket, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Eddie, knowing that half of the people at the funeral hardly knew him.

Eddie’s family gathered at one side of the casket Jake, Eddie’s younger brother, stood next to his parents, staring off into the distance. I wished I could comfort him, but I wouldn’t know what to say. What do you say to someone who just lost a sibling?

I turned my attention to Jennie, who sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye “Are you okay?” I asked, knowing it was a useless question.

“I just want whoever did this to rot in hell,” she muttered, staring straight ahead. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to put them there”

Things were never the same after that night. Everyone was shocked at what happened and were terrified that they would be next. The police had no suspects yet, no leads as to who would want to hurt the high school quarterback in a town as small as this In the school, people decided to call the murderer ‘The Mailman’ as he would send a letter to his victim before they died. In a way, it was helpful to give the killer a name instead of being stuck in the unknown

Leaves crunched underneath my feet as I walked down the sidewalk. I took a deep breath as I climbed the stairs to Jennie’s house. Knocking on the front door, I prayed she would answer Sure enough, moments later, the door opened A petite woman with Jennie’s warm brown eyes and similar composition stood in the doorway. Disappointment settled into my body. “Hi, Mrs. Wheaton. Is Jennie home?”

Mrs Wheaton gave me a sad smile and replied, “I think she just needs some more time

As you know, it’s been a rough few days.” She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering because of the cool fall air. “How are you doing with all of this?”

I swallowed, trying to suppress the image of Eddie’s dead corpse in my mind “I’m doing okay,” I lied. I managed a smile and said, “It was good to see you, Mrs. Wheaton. I’ll come back another time.”

I sat in my car, at a standstill in the driveway, tears forming in my eyes Feelings of grief for Jennie and Eddie’s family overflowed within me, along with stress and anxiety regarding the killer.

Wiping away the teardrops, I got out of my car and grabbed the mail, dropping it onto the counter I hesitated as I noticed an off-white envelope near the bottom of the stack My stomach turned as I slowly peeled it open. Inside, in a messy handwriting, all it said was “Trust no one”

Panicking, I grabbed my phone from my bag and dialed Jennie’s number “Please pick up, please pick up…” I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut. There was no answer.

I ran upstairs to my room and locked the door behind me I crawled into my bed, snuggling into my blankets, trying to calm myself down “It’s probably just a prank,” I said to myself, nodding my head quickly. “Just relax.”

A knock on the door interrupted my self-reassurance

What if it’s the killer? I instantly wondered, fear making my heart race I peered out my window and saw Jennie’s car in the driveway. Relief flowed through me as I ran to the door

“Jennie,” I said as I opened the door, “thank God it’s–” I paused No one was in the car I jogged to the street and looked both ways, searching for any evidence of Jennie’s presence If Jennie wasn’t here, who was?

I returned to the front door, which I had accidentally left open “Dang it,” I muttered My mom always got upset when I let the heating out by leaving doors open. I walked inside and closed the door

“Hey Jennie,” I said into her voicemail “Where are you? Your car is in my driveway but you’re not.” I laughed, knowing I sounded crazy. “Anyway, I’m here if you need to talk. Just call me back when you get this” I hung up, still confused

A loud scraping sound came from the basement, causing my heart to skip a beat

“Hello?” I called with a tremor in my voice. I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a knife, hands sweaty and trembling

I slowly opened the door to the basement, which was my least favorite part of the house. The unfinished walls and dusty interior had never made it an appealing space to hang out I grabbed a flashlight and advanced down the stairs

A soft humming noise filled the basement with quiet strength Simultaneously, a drop of sweat and a shiver ran down my spine. Who was humming? Was it Jennie trying to prank me?

“H-hello?” I repeated I clutched the knife in one hand while I used the flashlight to scan my surroundings. “Is anyone there?”

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows They were tall, about six feet, and wellbuilt They wore a mask to conceal their face, all except for their eyes A black hoodie and sweatpants blanketed their body in an ominous way. A sense of terror came upon me as I realized how much danger I was in I turned around and began to run away I could hear the intruder chasing me close behind. As I chaotically raced up the stairs, my phone rang in my pocket. It rang for several rounds before I got into my room and slammed the door, locking it secure I pushed my nightstand in front of it, praying it would be a sufficient barricade I picked up the phone, tears falling down my cheeks.

“Claire! Where are you?” Jennie’s voice came from the other side of the line, and for a moment, I felt a little calmer “Somebody stole my car!”

“Oh my God,” I sobbed. “I think it was the killer. They’re here,” I whimpered. “In my house” I heard Jennie gasp

“Claire, just try to stay calm, okay? I’m gonna call the police. Just try to stay calm. I’m gonna call you back, OK?”

“Hurry,” I begged as something hit my door with a loud thump

I screamed as the intruder continued to throw themself into the door, my nightstand slowly getting moved out of their way

“Go away!” I shouted, sobs shaking my entire body “I didn’t do anything! What do you want?”

Just as I finished speaking, the door burst open with a loud crash The intruder stumbled into my room, panting, with an evil look in their eye “Stop fighting me,” they muttered Something was familiar about the voice, I observed with panic.

“J-Jake?” I asked, my voice unrecognizable to me because of the terror

“How did you know that?” he demanded, pointing his own knife at my face The hilt of the knife looked identical to the one at the scene of the crime the other night. I shuddered, trying to erase the image of the body

“I recognized your voice–” I began, putting my hands up “Hey!” he shouted angrily. “Drop the knife. Now!” Pure rage overwhelmed his voice, making him nearly unrecognizable

I hesitantly set the knife onto my bed

“Now sit.”

I did as he said

“Did you kill your brother?” I whispered This all felt like a bad dream; how could Jake, the boy who Jennie and I went to middle school with, be a murderer? And why? None of it made sense

“And I would do it again,” he growled “Just like I’m about to end you”

“What did he do to deserve that? W-what did I do?”

He peeled off his mask, confirming all of my fears It actually was Jake He laughed, a crazy laugh that sounded maniacal “You don’t get it, do you? My brother got everything he ever wanted in life: He was quarterback on the football team, he got better grades, he was Mom and Dad’s favorite And he had Jennie”

I shook my head, confused “What do you mean, ‘he had Jennie’?”

“She loved my brother,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Everyone knew it Everyone but Eddie”

“What does she have to do with anything?” I questioned “Jake, you’re really scaring me Is this a prank?”

“A prank?” he said “I wanted to be with Jennie! I wanted what my brother could have had So I got rid of him, the problem At least, part of it,” he added, glaring at me “You’re the only thing left preventing me from having Jennie all to myself. The best friend,” he said with a bitter smile

“You think killing your brother and Jennie’s closest friend will make her love you?”

“Of course it will!” he shouted, spitting on my face. “I would do anything for her. Soon, she’ll realize just how much I love her And she’ll love me, too”

“You’re delusional,” I spat

“At least I won’t be dead.”

Silence and an unblinking stare followed for a few moments “Do what you want to me She will never forgive you for what you’ve done”

Suddenly, police sirens could be heard from outside. I saw a look of panic cross Jake’s expression, as he realized he’d been caught “When did you call the cops?”

“I didn’t,” I replied with a satisfied grin “Jennie did”

Jake growled and lunged toward me, knife in hand. I jumped off my bed and swerved around him, wincing as the knife came in contact with my upper right arm Gripping the wound, I ran downstairs, skipping steps and praying I wouldn’t trip Jake was gaining on me.

“Come back here, you little–” he began He was interrupted by the front door being thrown open, and several police entered the house He turned around to go back up the stairs but was stopped by an officer as he was tackled to the ground.

I hid behind the other police, silently crying and clutching my arm, which was bleeding onto the floor My hands were sticky with blood and I felt faint

“You’re safe now,” one of the officers said, gripping my shoulders and looking me in the eyes to reassure me “Let’s get you patched up” With a sturdy arm, he guided me out of the house

Behind me, I heard Jake screaming at the top of his lungs as he struggled against the handcuffs and strong men They led him out of the house and toward a squad car, and his eyes followed me the entire way with extreme hatred “I’ll come back for you!” he shouted. “Don’t you forget that! I’ll always come back–”

The officer shoved him into the vehicle and slammed the door, silencing his threats As I got my wound treated, I called my parents, who were appalled by the events that took place and immediately decided to head home. Then I called Jennie.

“Hey,” I said, my voice shaking

“Are you okay?” I could hear the worry in her words “I’ve been so worried about you”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I replied, managing to smile. “Thank you, Jennie. I don’t think I would be here if it weren’t for you” I shuddered at the thought that I could be dead right now

The stinging wound in my arm was miniscule compared to what it could have been She sighed in relief. “Did you find out who it was?”

I hesitated I knew that telling her could potentially cause more harm than good, but at the same time, I couldn’t lie to my best friend Especially after she saved my life “It was Jake Bowman,” I said, frowning. “I’m really sorry, Jennie. I know it’s unexpected.”

There was silence on the other side of the line for a few moments “Jake?” she clarified “Yeah”

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “But…why would he kill his own brother? And why target you, too?” Her voice cracked

“Can we talk in person?” I asked “I think it would be easier”

“Sure,” Jennie said, and for some reason, I heard her voice nearby. I looked up and saw Jennie walking toward me on the sidewalk Pure joy filled up inside of me, and I ran toward her, shoving my phone in my pocket

“Jennie!” I exclaimed, throwing myself into her arms. I grunted as I felt something pierce my abdomen Warmth oozing from my gut, I stumbled backward out of Jenny’s grasp Short gasps escaped from my mouth

“I’m sorry,” Jenny whispered, holding a bloody dagger. “The Mailman made me do it. He threatened my family I had to” Tears welled in her eyes as she slowly backed away from me

I fell to the ground, still clutching my wound. Slowly, the world became faint and I couldn’t feel as much pain “You knew?” I sobbed “You knew it was Jake?”

“I’m so sorry,” Jennie said She came over and knelt on the ground next to me, cradling my head in her lap. “I found out after the funeral. I got a letter. He said if I didn’t continue his work, he would kill my family”

“But he’s going to prison, Jen! The threat is gone!” She stared at me, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You said you’d call the cops, and they came. They took Jake away,” I whispered weakly My vision began to blur and Jennie’s voice was becoming faint

“I didn’t call the cops,” Jennie said, panicking “I just said I would so I would have time to come over and… so I’d have time to finish the job.”

“Oh my God,” I moaned “It was all an act Jake is the one who called the cops He must have He knew that if he was arrested when you killed me, that you would look guilty for everything.” I shifted uncomfortably on the ground. “He put it all on you,” I finished. “He made you the Mailman That way, you’ll always be together - in prison”

“No,” Jennie muttered “He wouldn’t “I’m so sorry, Claire! I thought he was going to kill everyone I cared about.”

“It’s okay,” I said, my voice cracking I could feel myself slipping away slowly “It was either me or your entire family ” I weakly managed a smile “You made the right choice.”

Jennie sobbed and held me closely

“Listen,” I said, my voice barely audible “Tell them I killed myself It’s the only way for you to be free.”

Jennie sniffed and nodded her head, her tears gently falling onto my skin “Okay,” she consented “But how am I supposed to live with myself after this?”

“Live for me,” I said. “Cover up your tracks so Jake stays in prison.”

Jennie looked up toward the sky, squeezing her eyes shut When she looked down again, I lay there limp in her arms, my heart no longer beating The Mailman had claimed its second victim. Her name, Claire Smith

“We live in a small town These things just aren’t supposed to happen… not here I mean, nothing used to happen here I used to hate that. But now I wish we could go back Back to normal” My best friend stopped talking and stood in the pouring rain, clutching her umbrella and staring down at the casket before her Tears streamed down her face, and there was anger and resentment in her eyes She wiped away her tears and returned to her place in the crowd “Goodbye, Claire”

Untitled | Lydia Shannon | 10

Chickens Molting

Chickens flap and scratch around

Harvesting bugs from frozen ground

I love to watch them do their thing

Cause chickens are so interesting

Kingdom of chickens, coop and run

Eagerness for food to come

Nature takes its toll, however,

Shedding chickens have little feather

Wings Released

Weston Hafer | 12

Cannot forget the crunch

Of a freshly cooked wing For that type of joy

Is one only food can bring

The snap of oil frying

Revealing a tender delicacy

Extensions of chickens

Make their way above level

As we sit together

Engulfing taste buds with spicy and sweet

Reflect on the moments

That led to this humble feast

Whether you like them sauced

Baked Or Tossed

There is always a divergent path to follow

Stay true to your cravings

Let your gut lead

Digging in bone or boneless

Highlighting gluttony, unapologetic greed

Untitled | Ruthie Brenner | 9

Ruthie Brenner | 9

Fischer-Spassky | Mark Miller |

InTheRough

Zane Brolin | 12

I will own a chain of department stores one day, and I will think of this recent setback as constructive and informative. When I’m walking in the aisles that I own amidst the clothes that I sell, I will stop and think about what a learning experience this has been I will go home and tell my wife and my children about it and we will laugh, and then I will take them out for ice cream and I will have a car that fits us and my wife will have a diamond ing that is classy and timeless.

Every morning I will help her choose from a silver or a gold barrette to compliment her hair and outfit. She will probably be a brunette, but I am flexible.

A few mornings prior to all of this I was reading The Wall Street Journal over Earl Grey tea coffee is bad for your pores and there was an article analyzing the malaise of the current workforce I was going to look up what malaise meant but I got it from context clues, and then I cut out the article. It’s pinned to the cork board leaned against my wall the apartment I’m living in for the time being doesn’t allow you to hang anything up and I’ve positioned it so that it motivates me as soon as I walk in That cork board is worth the air conditioning unit I had to move to fit it there: I have quotes, articles, reminders, schedules, and one of the last photos of my dad his eyes twinkling as he smiles on the board, and I was thrifty and found a little fan to put next to my bed, so the heat isn't so bad in the summer. It's to my benefit that I don't have a bedframe, because presumably then the fan wouldn't be tall enough to blow onto me when I’m sleeping.

I clock into work everyday at 7:30 A M sharp That’s during the season, I should say I’m employed at White Hills a country club out in the suburbs and it’s a decent paycheck with those tips, but I remind myself it’s not about the paycheck; it’s about the opportunity. I’m a handshaker, I make connections, build social capital. Those guys at White Hills really are something, with their white shoes and white hats and white golf balls How they keep those balls so clean, I wonder all the time. I guess they put them right on the fairway where it’s groomed and where there’s no loose soil, that way they roll nice and clean on the green grass. Never needs a wash. Just hit it right down the pike every time.

A few days ago, Mr Chapman he’s a friend of mine, always leaves a tip when I serve him his Scotch and soda asked me for advice on a new pair of golf shoes he’s thinking of investing in. Showed me the Google search on his iPhone. I took a deep breath this makes your voice sound deeper and more authoritative and said smooth and low as can be, “The ECCO Biom H4s in white, yes. Great pair of shoes. Diverse abilities, gives great traction in the box while remaining nimble on the green On a fine player like

yourself I imagine you’ll see several strokes shaved off your handicap once you break them in ”

Mr. Chapman’s eyes twinkled as he smiled somehow his forehead didn’t wrinkle the way mine does when I smile into the mirror and shook my hand. His handshake was actually a little limp, but I won’t point that out unless he asks

“Thanks, son See you next time ” Mr Chapman really knew how to use those white teeth he’s got, and he flashed another smile before he put his iPhone in his pocket. I smiled back I was all too aware of my forehead wrinkling up all ugly, but I’m working on that and gave him a little nod as he walked to the door

“See you next time, Mr. Chapman!”

Damn it! I didn’t breathe in deeply before I spoke, and my voice had a little crack in it when I said ‘Chapman.’ I did so well on the golf shoe advice I read the name of the shoe from the search bar and synthesized some good qualities that I imagined would be desirable in a shoe and it’s a damn shame to screw it up with that juvenile performance. I sounded overly excited, too. The nearer a man comes to a calm mind, the closer a man is to strength, why couldn’t I remember that? You’re supposed to be collected when you talk to these guys, otherwise you make yourself look unprofessional.

The season's end was approaching quickly, so I was in the process of applying for a winter job. It was

tough finding one that would allow me weekdays from nine to five off, but I needed the time for that internship

Mr Chapman’s internship, I found it on his firm’s website so unfortunately I didn’t get very far past the prescreening stage in most places. It would also help if the job was located near Mr. Chapman’s big white office building, so I could work as late as possible there and still show up five minutes early to my other job In search of this position at the firm, I was spending what little time I had left remaining after my job, my reading, and my investing I have made several good financial moves and am waiting for them to pan out to work on my proposal to Mr. Chapman. I typed it up on my off day and I had been practicing in the mirror I wore my best polo shirt microfiber when I practiced to simulate gametime conditions, so to speak, and I had it at a tight thirty-seven seconds, just the right length of time to show him I was serious but also so I wouldn’t bore him. I pride myself on being a direct person; successful people never digress or go on tangents

I did some pulse-calming breathing exercises on the morning of the big day. It was late in the season but still very hot, and I rolled my windows down the air-conditioning in my car doesn’t work for the time being and began the commute to White Hills It really is a gorgeous drive; the freeway takes me directly to the club, and along the way I can see the neutrally toned roofs of big houses peeking above the divider that stands between the highway and the neighborhood. What a thing to live in a house divided from the freeway. What a thing to walk out of your front door

and be surrounded by the kind of prosperity one can only find in those neighborhoods My house would be the biggest not for me but for my wife and kids and everyone would come over for a cookout a few times every summer. Mr. Chapman would be there, and he would be charmed by my wife and his sons would play football with my sons. What a thing.

I parked as always a few blocks away from the club The car that I drive is sort of on a for-the-time-being basis, and I strive to present my best side around White Hills. I tell people I walk to work as a way to stay active. At the door my shaking hands fumbled with the key I had taken an extra nootropic capsule that morning and sometimes they make me jittery and before I could get it unlocked my eye was caught by the newspaper, delivered early that morning. It was local news, which I generally avoid in favor of The Wall Street Journal, but the headline had drawn my attention.

BUSINESS MAGNATE DRIVES CAR INTO LAKE, DROWNS IN APPARENT SUICIDE EVIDENCE OF FRAUD FOUND AT CHAPMAN ENTERPRISES

I picked it up and read the article twice. My polo microfiber all of a sudden felt claustrophobic in spite of its sweatwicking abilities I thought at first of the leather seats being ruined by the algae, but that wasn’t a good thought, so I landed instead on Mr. Chapman’s lungs filling with water in the murk. If only he’d waited a day and heard my pitch.

That night, I stopped by Macy’s and sat in the dressing room with the newspaper, breathing in the perfumed air and rereading the words under those department store lights, and when I left I ran my fingers over the rich white walls. Once back at my apartment, I found myself this was the higher dosage of the nootropics messing with me, it had to have been cutting out the article and pinning it to my corkboard I had to fit it over the photo of my dad, and those twinkling eyes are fixed on me.

Ruthie Brenner | 9

I Have to Write This Poem Ellie O'Day | 9

Iwas dozing off in the last class of the day And remembered I had a due project, hooray! I need five examples of figurative language And five lengthy stanzas to get a good average

I’m dying from writing (that’s exaggeration) This poem’s not exciting (that’s my declaration) Why is this class scheduled for last of the week? My brain’s like a child refusing to speak

While we’re on the topic of my nitwitted brain, This work’s killing it! I feel so drained

And why did I think a poem could hurt me?

It’s just some weird words, and bad ones, you’d agree

I don’t really know why I’m rhyming this poem

It’s just more work–and I want to go home!

There’s still twenty minutes until I pack up

And still one more stanza, I guess I’ll give up

You can tell I’m exhausted, I repeated myself! Did you really think up and up rhymes with itself?

I didn’t get sleep last night at all

Too busy procrastinating this, I recall

Can this stupid bell not already ring?

I won’t come back ‘till graduation in spring

I’ll return in a flash to share my good secret

I’m dropping out of school to be a famous poet

He who wakes up to gather what’s a mess

Is the one who has helped to care for me since I was young. He works hard to provide for me and my brother,

Knowing that we will be as bright as shining stars.

The Toiling Father

He pays for the roof over our head

To the sheets on our beds,

And he gives us happiness and peace In such a chaotic world.

He cleans and mops just like

A maid would care for the home, Breaking the gender standard Through his hard work and love.

He brings us life and he shows us our path, For I do not know what we would do without a father like him.

Annika Crabb | 11

Lovebirds | Amelia Cooper | 12

The lack thereof Making me ill

Third time in two months

Lost in possible solutions

Seeing another professional tomorrow

But my optimism dwindles

We’ll see if a concrete answer is given Or if I am given medication, only to return weeks later

Incapacitated as always Blocking hopes of vacations and trips

Just this Thursday

I had aspirations to be on a plane

But now here I sit

Writing this proclamation

Not sure how to deal

When fate rests outside of my control

PrideandPrejudice

Like every high school sophomore, Lily Scott loathed being reminded that she needed to prepare for college One Tuesday afternoon, her father, Joel, broached the subject for the twelfth time that week He remarked, “You know, college is important. It’s not like in my day. You can’t just rely on charm and good looks. They care about grades now.” Lily rolled her eyes and tried to ignore her father’s ramblings. She was a smart girl who took her future more seriously than her father gave her credit That wasn’t saying much, but she did have a plan, it was just one that Joel wouldn’t appreciate or understand

Joel Scott was a humble man who had much to be humble about. He had few original ideas--okay, none. But he did recognize a good one when he saw it. The problem was he had no talent to do anything with the “good ideas” he did recognize. And so, Joel spent his days at the accounting firm playing sudoku and wondering when his big break would come Little did he know it would come over Taco Tuesday

Lily came down for dinner and Joel decided to renew the conversation about college for the thirteenth time that week. Oblivious to his daughter’s annoyance, he prodded her, “You need a plan! College isn’t going to pay for itself. Despite my best efforts, my Powerball numbers haven’t hit--yet”

“Okay Dad, I didn’t want to tell you,” Lily said, just hoping to get him to drop the subject, “but, I’m going to write a book ” Joel thought about her previous writings With an A- in English and that second grade family history project, he didn’t believe Lily actually had the talent to write a book.

Alright, honey what is it about?” he asked. Lily remembered that her father had joined a Jane Austen Crochet and Knitting Society as a guise to win back his ex-wife, Emily Lily had recently read a book based off of the classic Pride and Prejudice which included a plot twist: zombies Lily layed out the storyline

Joel was silent until she finished This was the most brilliant thing he had heard Tears welled up in his eyes His daughter had come up with literary alchemy He had no time for parental pride, for he was already planning how to capitalize on the flash of genius that she had shared with him. The possibilities were endless.

To understand the impact on Joel, you must understand a bit about him Joel’s definition of reading included picking up the book a few times, sleeping as the audiobook played, and allowing the movie to fill in the details Fortunately, the Jane Austen Crochet and Knitting Society had given him many insights into the Jane Austen cannon. After several warnings that he had to actually read Pride and Prejudice to stay in the club, he doubled down and watched the whole six part BBC series and purchased the SparkNotes with his ex-wife’s credit card And, he didn’t stop there Sense and Sensibility was next Followed by Emma and Mansfield Park--he worked through the whole BBC catalog of Jane Austen’s work and became a true expert

Joel had convinced his daughter that he was in fact a well read man, highly recommending Emma to her. His knowledge was so great that he even chose to lead some of the group discussions. Emily was less than thrilled at this idea, as he kept calling on her and asking if she had had any experience with a modern day Darcy She responded, “ I met a guy for coffee a week ago but I’m not quite sure he rises to that level ”

The sting of that comment didn’t slow him down as he dove deeper into Jane Austen’s romantic stories. He bought the books--used-- to make it seem as though he had read them. Joel then randomly highlighted and dog-eared pages to make the facade almost impenetrable, dropping them and adding a coffee stain for good measure Lily, who had the actual motivation to be honest, read the books at what she perceived was her father’s will--why else would he have bought all of them?

What happened after she shared her brilliant “plan” was all the more profound. Lily never saw her father more ecstatic and energized than the moment she shared her idea She hoped Joel wouldn’t ask her about it again and soon quickly forgot about her white lie That night, Joel opened Pride and Prejudice with the actual intent to read it and started on page one He was captivated

Although he always protested that the movies were always better, Joel became enamored by the writings Despite being a divorced middle aged man in the twenty-first century, he found he could relate to Elizabeth Bennett Mr Darcy seemed distant and remote and yet all the more intriguing, like his ex-wife, Emily. After finishing the novel, he had decided that apparent apathy of Emily was really her way of playing coy. Eventually, she wanted him to win her back and would succumb to his charms again.

One might ask: did Joel feel any misgivings at stealing his daughter's “idea?” No, it hadn't even occurred to him that Lily would care He was drunk with the thought of the riches, the fame, and the glory that awaited a man of his genius He was Jane Austen’s rightful heir: Joel Scott of the Jane Austen Crochet and Knitting Society would take her stories to the next level And so he set out to take Lily’s vision and make it a reality

In the moments when he acquired writer's block, Joel turned his focus to researching the topic of zombies by watching the director’s cut of World War Z and the Disney cult-classic musical Zombies.

Soon, it became apparent that Joel couldn’t manage the stress of writing a novel with his demanding work schedule and the bi-weekly knitting group commitment. Careful to guard his secret, and also eager to test the plot line, he would ask the other women in the group: “Sure, but what if the Rector was actually a zombie, what would you think about that?” The women universally humored him and said, “Certainly, no one would see that coming ''

To this, his idea gained greater momentum and he resolved to let nothing stop him from beating Lily to publishing it first. And so, lying awake one night, he faintly remembered Ferris Bueller. It seemed to work out well for Ferris to fake an illness. So, Joel googled illnesses that would give him the six weeks off of work that were needed to finish Pride and Prejudice: Zombies. Having read signs about cancer survivors, Joel thought the illness to be a trivial thing. This prompted him to search for the worst kinds of cancer. Joel clicked on the first result. Failing to read the whole article or even the title, he saw the words terminal and cancer, and a picture of an arrow pointed at a man’s head He put them all together And that is how Joel was self-diagnosed with terminal head cancer

His perception of both the word cancer and terminal were wrong But he knew it was bad enough to get him out of work The first person Joel informed of his “diagnosis'' was his boss, Micky Joel asked if after completing the six weeks necessary to beat terminal cancer he could have his job back Micky was perplexed but sympathetic He said, “Joel, when you beat terminal cancer, your job will be waiting here for you.” Micky wondered how poorly the doctors had explained the concept of terminal to Joel or how far he had progressed. He certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell him. Either way, Mickey could see the terminal “head cancer” was already affecting Joel. For his part, Joel was confused as to why his boss would hug and wish him Godspeed. Didn’t he just say he would recover in six weeks?

Next, Joel had to tell Lily He thought this would serve a two-fold purpose First, she might actually start helping around the house and cut him a little slack Second, with Lily occupied, he could beat her to the publishers Joel began the conversation by sitting her down at the kitchen table Lily said, “Dad, what’s going on?”

“Papa has something he needs to tell you ”

“Is everything okay, Dad?”

“Papa has cancer,” Joel said. Lily was astonished.

“What? What kind? Are you going to be alright?” she asked

“It’s head cancer The doctors say it’s terminal Incredibly rare ”

After a brief silence, she inquired, “Well, how big is the tumor?”

“The whole thing,” Joel then regretted not reading the article, “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Okay, okay, just tell me this, how much time do we have?”

“Everything will be resolved in six weeks It will be alright ”

“Well, Dad, we have to spend as much time together as we can!”

“Yeah, that’s not what Papa needs ”

“What?”

“Papa just needs a little space. Maybe towards the end.”

“Of course, of course, Dad, I’ll help in any way I can ”

“If you could clean up and make the meals, that would be great I think I’m going to go to my knitting group ”

"Have you told Mom yet?"

“I can’t bear to do that. You know how much she loves Papa. She doesn’t take these sorts of things well.” At that moment, Lily wondered to herself, “Didn’t Mom leave Dad?” She wanted to be sensitive and so didn’t say anything, perhaps the cancer was really starting to have its effects. Lily hugged him goodbye and ran upstairs to tell her mother about Joel’s condition.

Emily was shocked. She cried in the car. Late to the knitting society, Emily opened the door and found Joel sitting there, seemingly perfectly normal. She looked at him and asked, “Joel, is there something you want to tell me?”

“No,” he said. “Now, I for one would like to hear Gladys’ reactions to the idea of Mr. Bingley being a zombie. I’m sure everyone else would too, thank you Emily for interrupting Now Gladys, last Tuesday, you said the idea was ‘interesting ’ When I asked if it might work in an alleged novel with Pride and Prejudice: Zombies, you replied that you’d have to do more thinking Well? It’s been a week Please ”

Gladys said, “I guess it could work? It’s a different idea, to say the least ” Gladys had been a kindergarten teacher for fifty years and was used to humoring small children She continued, “I do believe now we should talk about whether Dickens really stole from Austen.” Joel, as always, was an avid participant in the discussion. He commented on everything from Myrtle’s world famous peach cobbler to the idea of what would happen if Dickens characters were zombies as well. Emily, for her part, couldn’t stop thinking about Joel and his diagnosis.

The next six weeks were the best of his life Lily kept the house clean and Emily came over often For his treatments, Emily drove Joel to his daily chemotherapy at the hospital Instead of chemo, he would retreat to Starbucks The baristas knew him by name As soon as Joel walked in, they knew to make his special: a venti nonfat iced vanilla latte with extra whip and sprinkles After all, "You Only Live Once", as his favorite silicone bracelet proclaimed From eight to two everyday, Joel worked tirelessly at his novel, putting Lily’s plot into action

In her spare time, Lily spent every waking moment with Joel. Teachers sympathized and let her homework slide. At the end of every night, Lily was morose. This was not understood by Joel. He told her daily, “Papa’s going to be alright.” But, Lily never seemed to believe him, thinking his mental deterioration was becoming greater. What had been endearing was now concerning. Joel, for his part, couldn’t understand the concern.

One day, around six weeks after telling his family of his diagnosis, Joel came home and announced, “I have good news and I have great news ” Lily and Emily rushed to the living room

“Well, what is it?” they asked

“Guys, first I want to thank you for always being here for me. You knew I could do it even when I didn’t. But, it’s over.” He paused for a minute. Lily steadied herself, preparing for the worst. Joel unzipped his Britney Spears hoodie, revealing the cancer survivor t-shirt he had gotten at the hospital gift shop.

“I did it, I beat terminal cancer!” After a long pause, which Joel perceived as a shock of happiness at his recovery, he ran to the kitchen to pop a bottle of champagne Pouring a glass only for himself, Joel announced his “great” news, “I know what you all are thinking: ‘This can't get any better ’ I thought that myself You guys are going to want to sit down for this Oh, you’re already sitting, I’ll sit too then Well, here it goes: I found a way to pay for Lily’s education ”

Lily and Emily, still shocked at the first announcement, didn’t say a thing to Joel’s dismay So, he continued, “I wrote a book. I don’t like to use the word brilliant too often, but it’s brilliant. Lily, well, not all of it, not even a lot of it, but a small amount of the credit I owe to you. I’ll be dedicating it to you, don’t worry.”

Lily said, “Dad, I--”

“Shhhh, Papa knows Let me finish We all have read Pride and Prejudice Well, I don’t know about you, Emily Your recent contributions to the Jane Austen Crochet and Knitting Society, if we’re being honest, leave something to be desired That aside, my novel, I’ve called it Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, is better It will put our chapter of the Society on the map and it will make us rich I have it right here I wanted to give each of you a copy before I send it off to all the major publishers and let them fight over it ” Emily then remembered why she had divorced this man Lily was shocked, “Dad, were you working this the past few months instead of spending time with us?” Joel nodded. Lily said, “Dad, you could have died!”

Papa knew cancer couldn’t keep him down. In your heart, I know you did too.” Lily took a deep breath, “Do you remember when I told you about Pride and Prejudice Zombies? That--”

Joel wouldn’t let her finish, “Papa knows, Papa knows. I borrowed your idea. Believe me, if it wasn’t for your own good, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Dad!”

“Look, I’ve read your journals, the prose is stilted, very one dimensional It lacks the elegance exhibited in World War Z and the original Pride and Prejudice But, I can understand why you’re disappointed, but soon, when we’re millionaires, you’ll thank me ” Lily, seeing her efforts were going nowhere, ran to her room Joel thought she just needed a few minutes to unpack the news. As he poured a second glass of champagne for himself, Lily unexpectedly came down holding a book in her hands. After laying it down on the kitchen table, Joel saw the novel he had poured his heart and soul into had already been written, “Lily, when did you write this? And why would you use the pen name Seth GrahameSmith?”

| George Colletti |

Bill and Clarence | Liam Kellihan |

The Lost Pet

Annika

Crabb | 11

Waking up to your rapturous pants and high-pitched barks were something that I took for granted. Your beautiful fur sparkled like your personality, making a smile form on my face in the worst of times. The energy you brought made me feel alive, always making me thankful for what I have. Your zoomies in the house were just a daily occurrence back then, but nowhere to be found now. I miss the way you tilted your tiny little head and the way you looked at me with those senior puppy-dog eyes.

How I wish for you to come back to me. Iwake in the morning eager to see you by my side, but to no avail.

I want to go for a walk with you or just lay on the couch together. I know I cannot dwell on the past, but moving forward is so hard to do without you next to me.

My love for you is eternal, and will never die, just like your soul that will live on with me forever and ever. I see you in my dreams, thinking that you came back from the heavens, only to awake to the harsh reality. Just know, my dear old dog, your stories will live on with your caring family.

Even if I get a new pet, you will never be forgotten. I feel you in my heart every waking second, so don’t feel envy for the next pet that comes, as they will never replace you.

SPOONS WrittenbyZekeBoos

Unbelievable. I sit here writing this in utter shock – an unshakable and unrelenting sense of incredulity envelopes my every cell. I can’t believe it… I don’t want to believe it. How a crime of such gravity committed with such insouciance can rest in plain sight, blatantly mocking those whose noses it in advertently remains under. Shuffling by, these unknowing victims forfeit their right to just indignation out of ignorance or indifference. How did this come about?

Where lies the origin of the problem? The root of my Katzenjammer can undeniably be traced back, back, back in timeultimately reaching the genesis of human life, or rather human thought. Notions of dignity, self-respect, and man ’ s pursuit for excellence crumple at the hands of what may be chronicled as a simple error or a full-frontal assault on human nature. The danger of a mischaracterization is apparent: building mountains out of mole hills can only insult, harm, and damage the serenity associated with innocence. But to inadequately assess the depth of this misaction allows a dark evil to spread – an evil that challenges

all knowledge and facilitates the growth of a veritable black hole, swallowing all things (light and dark alike) into a void of depression and nihilism. If characterizing the nature of this mistake as either imperfection or evil reaches a similar outcome of destruction, then do any solutions exist to combat the seemingly invincible power of darkness or the inevitability of death? I Whether it be death to dignity, happiness, good or evil, death ultimately prevails. What then can truly counter death? Religion?

Strength of will? Hiding? All of the above?

Well, believing in God certainly wouldn’t have kept the subject of this piece from placing a spoon in the fork drawer. And I doubt more willpower was necessary to fight a silverware mishap. Caution too would have failed, for hiding from the problem and choosing to keep the spoon out of fear of misplacing it would result in accidental spoon theft or wasted money on new spoons. A new question begs to be answered. Can the subject be blamed? No If the spoon mishap was the result of a wicked desire to spread mayhem and spark pandemonium, then the subject must be commended for their conviction as they remained true to their desires and beliefs. If ignorant, can the subject be blamed?

No One does not come by stupidity by choice. An observational failure or a deficiency prohibiting the subject from correctly differentiating “ spoon ” from “fork” cannot be blamed. It’s the indifferent subject, the subject who fails to choose good or evil by misplacing the spoon, recognizing the mistake and shrugging it off with the utterance of a simple, yet condescending “ oops ” and a smirk, who must be blamed. This subject has no conviction, no dignity and lives a purely selfish existence, leaving problems for others but not for a cause they believe in nor by an accidental error. True evil lies in indifference. But now the axe threatens my head. The witness always has it toughest. The fate of the subject who believes they are sole proprietor of knowledge of the spoon debacle lies in my hands. I am judge, jury, and executioner for this poor soul. And yet my convictions lie in question. Am I merciful? Am I forgiving? Or am I angry, vengeful, and spiteful, a fiery judge ignited by the audacious or egregious actions of another? And if I strike, tearing down the individual for their idiocy, I may have destroyed the dignity and heart of an ignorant yet innocent soul. But say I show mercy and subsequently allow the evil behind spoon misplacement to grow into a worse, uncontrollable demon of immorality. Undeniably I face no easy choice May I then avoid the issue entirely? Is another’s mistake really mine to fix? No, no, no, I must stay steadfast and firm in my commitment to finding a solution. You must never turn from another’s mistake. To do so forfeits brotherhood and demeans human community.

Leaving another with the burden of their own mistake denies goodness and feeds evil. One truth remains here… whether ignorant, wicked, or indifferent the subject must be confronted and their mistake fixed. The moment the parasitic knowledge of the spoon issue wormed its way into my conscious it became my duty to fight the problem. I must take action. So even if I fail, I might retain my dignity and my virtue. Choosing the role of the bystander in this scenario will solidify my heart, making me no less selfish and no less an accomplice to evil than the indifferent spoon misplacer. So I must take a risk. I must conquer my fear and confront the issue. I may damage innocence, stealing it’s goodness through an over commitment to vengeance and justice. Or through my mercy I may let wickedness run rampant, free to take leaps and bounds from silverware chaos to world consumption - nihilists and depression left in its wake. The path I choose is irrelevant, for I can stand back and say “at least I tried”.

Mission Statement

Edgewood, a Catholic high school, educates the whole student for a life of learning, service, and personal responsibility through a rigorous academic curriculum that embraces the Sinsinawa Dominican values of Truth, Compassion, Justice, Community, and Partnership.

THANK YOU!

The Wayfarer Staff would like to express their gratitude to Edgewood High School's English, Art, Technology, Accounting and Marketing departments for their guidance and support. We would also like to express our gratitude to the exceptional student writer and artists who contribute their work .

About Us

Literary works for The Wayfarer are selected through our staff's voting process. All pieces are anonymous upon submission to allow for unbiased selection.

Most pieces featured in the magazine are also submitted to the Edgewood English Department's Writing Contest. All winners are guaranteed publication in The Wayfarer

The 2023 issue of The Wayfarer, volume XXXVII, was typeset and the layouts were produced using Canva The Wayfarer uses the fonts Glacial Indifference and Open Sauce for the majority of copy and bylines. Various fonts were used for titles. The Wayfarer 2023 is available as a digital edition.