Lions-on-Line Spring Issue 2021

Lions-on-Line

Spring Issue 2021

Dedictation This issue of Lions-on-Line is dedicated to the memory of Mark Steinriede, who was our classmate, our fellow staff member, our student, and most importantly, our friend.

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Table of Contents Contemplation, Artwork by Angela Lang……………………Cover “The Room off the Basement,” Poem by Grace Ertel…………….6 Bas Relief Sculpture, Artwork by Macy Hoeing………………….8 Niagara Falls, Photograph by Katelynn Vickers…………………9 “Sharpening the Knife,” Poem by Constance Anstaett…………..10 Support, Photograph by Kassondra Taylor………………………12 “The Blackout,” Fiction by Chandler Palmer……………………13 Reach for the Light, Artwork by Eden Craig…………………….16 “It?” Poem by Angela Lang……………………………………...17 Observational Sleeping Dog, Artwork by Alyssa McRoberts…...18 “Farrah’s Fays,” Fiction by Chloe-Rose Ramsey………………..19 Fierce, Artwork by Marie Specker………………………………35 “Spider-Man; the Virtuous,” Essay by Hailey Winona Mullins…36 My Running Shoes, Artwork by Kayla Hess……………………..39 Mushroom, Photograph by Kassondra Taylor…………………...40 “Sheltered,” Poem by Angela Lang……………………………...41 Submission Guidelines…………………………………………..43 Survivor, Artwork by Angela Lang……………………Back Cover

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The Room off the Basement Poem by Grace Ertel Are there actually monsters in the basement?

That’s what we think as a kid, anyway.

It was always happy in my dreams.

Every night, the same thing when I close my eyes, The basement magically grows a set of stairs.

I run up them as the basement monster's chase behind me.

However, once I go through the “dream door,” it’s just me.

The walls are so bright because the sun reflects the white.

The room containing nothing but windows.

Never getting to go outside and see the world.

Stuck inside looking through the window, Looking at the green field full of flowers.

It calling to me, wanting me to run through it.

Calling to me, “Grace, run through and smell the flowers.”

All I could think was, I want to go out.

And how come I cannot go through the doors.

Their curly, diamond handles would never to be pulled open.

No matter how hard I tried, as if they were glued shut.

Why were they always closed, never open?

What was so bad outside that made the doors stay closed?

I guess it is a lost cause because it’s gone.

I always wake up and realize it was just a dream.

There is no extra set of steps downstairs.

My grandparent's basement was just a basement.

There were no monsters, there was no beaming white room.

I was just the kid with a big imagination, 6

And no one will ever see that white building.

In a sense it was mine, not for anyone else.

I did not have to share it with anyone.

Or, what it me being isolated from everyone.

Where there more people in the dream, past the flower field?

Is everyone trapped in a room off the basement?

But, never in a neighboring basement, so not to be seen.

Doesn’t matter now I guess; the dream has been gone.

Gone for a long time, ever since I was about 8.

I need to let it go and say goodbye to the room forever.

Forever, it is now gone forever. Goodbye white room.

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Bas Relief Sculpture, Artwork by Macy Hoeing

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Niagara Falls, Photograph by Katelynn Vickers

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Sharpening the Knife Poem by Constance Anstaett In response to Walden [Chapter 2] “Where I Lived, and What I Lived For” by Thoreau “I went into the woods because I wished to live deliberately,”1 To escape corrupt society, And exist in full simplicity.

I am surrounded by only necessity, Where pureness of nature lives, Where the dewy rain and wildflowers, Have Oh so much to give!

Infrequent fly-by-nighters, Come and ask for the story But it is I that look at them More than skeptically.

For them, you see . . .

It does not really matter, As they are less concerned about self-reflection, And more about climbing the corporate ladder.

The physical and spiritual, Are intrinsically tied.

A new purpose can be fashioned To leave immorality behind.

Every day that you are stagnate, There is a very hefty cost.

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Stuck in a precarious cycle, Happiness cannot be found, where it was lost.

God-fearing and righteous alike, Those before us constructed a map But it is not without gratitude, That I choose a different path.

For it is in complete solitude, Whatever definition is attached, When a spiritual awakening occurs, With the surface only scratched.

So, walk in your own shoes, Do not slip on those of another, You must find life’s essence on your own Not with your friend, foe or mother.

And you do not need to travel, To the distant corners of the earth.

The sublime can be found right here– In the land . . . in the dirt.

“Why should we live in such hurry And waste of life?” 1 Why would we carve out a space, Without first sharpening the knife?

1. BlackBoard. “Walden Chapter 2 Where I Lived, and What I Lived For.” Learn Us East, 2021, learn-us-east-1-prod-fleet02xythos.content.blackboardcdn.com/5e018b47c5434/ 8674423?X-Blackboard-Expiration=1612072800000&X-Blackboard

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Support, Photograph by Kassondra Taylor

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The Blackout Fiction by Chandler Palmer It was the dog days of summer. The town’s residents didn’t dare go outside to the triple-digit temperatures as they were inside, staying cool in any way that they could: air conditioners on full blast, ice-cold lemonade, you name it. Not to mention the neighborhood kids who were playing either Fortnite, Among Us, Grand Theft Auto or Call of Duty with their school buddies, with their bedroom fans on their highest setting. And then suddenly, in the middle of the blistering afternoon, the power cut off. The main cause, simply too many people were using too much technology at the same time. So, they all had to use old-fashioned ways to stay cool.

They all decided to go outside and collaborate with their neighbors. One offered a slip N’ slide, which she set up on her front lawn. That kept the neighborhood kids busy for the day as the adults tried to find out the extent of the outage. It was no use. Basically, the entire county's power was cut, and the quickest way they could find an area with power was to drive an hour east. There was no word on when the power would come back, which made them more agitated with the summer heat. And when the sun went down at nine o’ clock, the neighborhood was pitch-black.

Fortunately, the town was a modest (by comparison) seventy degrees at night. For the time being, the only option for dinner was over a campfire, which gave the community the obvious sense of roughing it.

The following day, the kids once again threw on their swimsuits to play on the Slip N’ Slide. However, this time, one kid had the bright idea of skipping sharp rocks on it, which ended up destroying it. The town’s kids were now shit out of luck with keeping cool as the intense warmth kept wreaking havoc. Fortunately, someone’s high-school aged brother remembered the super soakers from their 4th grade graduation party.

Some of the kids offered to use their pillow covers as flags, and suddenly, the kids were all engaging in an impromptu game of Capture the Flag with water guns. And that kept the kids entertained throughout the day.

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Day 3, and they were back at it with Capture the Flag. Except one of the kids added a new rule to spice up the game, and it was a doozy, to say the least! If hit, said player could trade an article of their clothing to get instantly thrown back in the game. Long story short, it turned to a bunch of minors running around completely naked. In their defense, the entire town probably had the same thought slip their mind at one point or another during the blackout. And the adults were too busy chatting over roomtemperature wine about how the outage could last for the rest of the week as two kids ran into each other head-first like football players. Then, screams, blood, an ambulance call, adults yelling at the kids for doing this as they shamefully put their clothes back on, and making the executive decision to call off the game and confiscate the water guns. On the bright side, it did give everyone some well-needed family time as they spent the rest of the day indoors playing board games.

Day 4, and it turned out that one of the kids from the incident from yesterday got a concussion. The other only needed several stitches.

Needless to say, the two of them would be out of commission for the time being. The kids figured to take the day easy and watch clouds. And that sense of calmness flew out of the window as the familiar tune of the ice cream truck approached. The kids either rummaged through their pockets for their crumpled dollar bills or asked their parents for a few dollars as the truck came to a stop.

Luckily for them, the ice cream man was very patient as the kids were lining up around the block as if he were giving away free PlayStation 5’s. The kids were able to devour their assorted popsicles and ice cream sandwiches as they watched the sun set before the ice cream melted onto their shirts.

On the 5th day of the power surge, the immediate community was awakened by a loud thunderclap at six in the morning with extremely heavy rainfall. Surprisingly, this did not lay waste to the kids' plans, they threw on their rain slickers (despite it still being in the high 90’s) and decided to ride around in their bikes. While some cared more about splashing each other with the puddles, others preferred racing with one 14

another. But then, bored with the lack of competition, someone pulled a crisp ten-dollar bill from his pocket, offering it to whomever can make a lap around the block the fastest. To make it fair, he also officiated the race, and it was almost as competitive as the Tour De France. To everyone’s utter shock, the oldest girl in town won! Everyone gave the runner-up shit because they thought he let her win to be nice. They called him things like Simp and everything but the child of God. He claimed it wasn’t true, but it didn’t help his case as the victor gave him a wet kiss on the mouth as everyone else teased him the rest of the day.

The power outage riveted on the 6th consecutive day. The rain stopped, with the triple-digit heat returning with a vengeance. The neighborhood kids’ parents pooled together money (and drew straws to see whom had to make the long drive to the nearest Walmart with electricity) and got the kids a real-badass trampoline sprinkler system, a sixty-four pack of sidewalk chalk, LED flashlights, a new Slip N’ Slide, and a cooler with a shit load of food and cold drinks they were going to make for a cookout that night. The younger kids occupied the slip’ N slide and sidewalk chalk as the older kids jumped on the trampoline sprinkler.

And this kept them busy all through the night until they gathered around the campfire for dinner underneath the star-filled summer sky.

Then suddenly, without warning, the lights came back on. Like roaches when exposed to sunlight, the kids and adults alike scurried back to their homes, catching up on all the screen time they missed over the past week. No one bothered to put out the campfire or clean up the trash from the dinner. The sense of community that happened during the blackout was gone, but never forgotten.

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Reach for the Light, Artwork by Eden Craig

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It? Poem by Angela Lang Is it a whim…

Of a forgotten trace of emotion, Tossed about carelessly?

Is it an untouchable light…

In the midst of pain and sorrow?

Is it a possession…

Only to be had by some Or are we all to share?

Is it forever…

Or can it be ripped away from us at any time?

Is it the bashful glimpse of a young man…

Or the flirting toss of a young girl’s hair?

How can it be justified…

When we can’t define it.

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Observational Sleeping Dog, Artwork by Alyssa McRoberts

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Farrah’s Fays Fiction by Chloe-Rose Ramsey “Little Girl. Little Girl, come here!”

Little Farrah had been wheeling her red wagon cross the sidewalk when she’d heard it. She stopped so abruptly that the carefully built tower of scout cookies in her wagon collapsed, spilling boxes all over the grass and sidewalk. She warily looked around for the source of the pretty feminine voice and finding no one began picking up her merchandise.

“Little Girl!!”

Farrah jumped and was about to run when she caught sight of the speaker. Instead she gasped in admiration. It was a beautiful young Asian woman with light purple hair, light purple eyes with large pupils that seemed to continuously change color, and giant purple butterfly-like wings.

“Hello Farrah.” She said with a sweet smile. “Could I have that?”

She pointed to the box of cookies Farrah held.

“Sure! It’s five dollars.”

The fairy pursed her lips, brushed back a lock of hair revealing a slightly pointed ear and whined “But I don’t have any money! Couldn’t you just give it to me?”

Farrah shook her head.

“Have to pay.”

She turned to put the box she held back in her wagon. When she looked up the fairy was standing inches away. Farrah shrieked in surprise.

The fairy said sweetly “If you give me those cookies for free I’ll give you wings.” She fluttered her massive wings creating such a powerful wind she almost knocked Farrah over.

“Wouldn’t you like beautiful wings of your own?”

“They are lovely.”

The fairy beamed.

“But I’m not supposed to give my cookies away, I’m supposed to sell them.”

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Farrah grabbed her wagon’s handle and began to run, the fairy materialized in front of her forcing her to skid to a halt.

“If you give me the whole wagon I’ll take you to Fairyland.”

“You will?”

The fairy nodded cheerfully.

“Why do you want these cookies so badly? They’re just cookies.”

“Why because they’re made of sugar! We LOVE sugar!!”

She said the word “sugar” with a kind of longing gasp.

“Just close your eyes, Just close your eyes and I’ll take you to Fairyland.”

Farrah did as she was instructed but gripped the wagon tight. The fairy wretched her hand off it immediately and led her off the path, keeping a gentle yet surprisingly firm hold of her. A moment later Farrah felt herself being lurched forward into something prickly. She cried out and the fairy gave a little scream of laughter. Farrah opened her eyes.

She’d been pushed headfirst into a bush. By the time she’d dislodged herself the fairy was gone with her wagon and cookies. *** Later Farrah got in trouble at her scout meeting. When it was discovered she hadn’t sold any cookies and the boxes were missing, her scout leader (Who was also her mom) became convinced Farrah kept them for herself and had hidden them somewhere. When Farrah explained that a pretty purple fairy stole them her mother grounded her for being dishonest. And she had to use the allowance money she’d been saving up to pay for the missing boxes! Farrah was sitting in a corner of the living room thinking about the unfairness of it all when there was a knock at the door.

“Mom! Dad!” Farrah yelled.

She could hear them in the background, her dad clanking away on his keyboard in his office and her mom rifling through all of Farrah’s possessions in search of the missing boxes of cookies.

The knock came again, more persistent.

“There’s someone at the door!” Farrah called to her parents.

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Now the knocking was much louder and quicker!

“ThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThumpThump” Farrah threw open the door. Standing on the other side was another fairy, Farrah could tell by the color-changing pupils and slightly pointed ears. This fairy was Caucasian with light green eyes and copper red hair worn in a braid that cascaded down her shoulder. Her face was scrunched up in extreme impatience and her hand raised to once again pound on the door. Seeing Farrah her arm dropped to her side and she smiled.

“Hi, Farrah.” She said. “I wanted to apologize for my friend’s behavior.”

She moved aside to reveal Farrah’s wagon.

“My wagon!” Farrah exclaimed happily. “Thank you!”

“Also this.” The fairy said.

She took something out of the pocket of her dress and offered it to Farrah. It was a glittering tiara, seemingly made of diamond and just the right size for Farrah’s head.

“Oooh!”

Farrah gingerly took it from the fairy’s delicate fingers.

“Do you like it?”

Farrah nodded.

“It’s our way of saying thank you for the sweets!”

“I didn’t exactly give them to you, your friend stole them.”

The fairy frowned and Farrah swiftly changed the subject.

“How come you don’t have wings like the other one?”

The fairy’s face suddenly went very red and she shouted with such intensity it was almost a scream “NOT ALL FAY HAVE WINGS!!!”

“Sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to-“ The fairy snatched back the tiara from Farrah’s hands and broke it in half. She clutched her fist around it and a clear bubbling liquid oozed out from between her fingers. The tiara dissolved, the liquid remnants of it sizzled as they melted holes into the concrete.

“You gave me a poisoned tiara!”

Surprise flitted across the fairy’s face.

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“Of course not!” She snapped.

“Farrah, what’s going on out there?” Farrah’s dad asked.

“Uh . . . I got my wagon back!”

Farrah turned back to the front stoop. It was now empty and peppered with little holes so deep she could see the wet dirt beneath the concrete. *** Tween Farrah was waiting for the bus on an icy winter morning, a travel cup of hot cocoa in her hand. She took another sip and shuffled in the grey slush. Suddenly a dark hand reached out from behind her and stole her hot chocolate. Farrah whipped around to find a strange young woman with reddish brown skin and shiny black hair tied in pigtails with enormous bows who was wearing very little clothing despite the cold weather. Before Farrah could react she’d gulped down the drink and crumbled up the Styrofoam cup, magically folding it again and again until it was the size of a raindrop before dropping it into the snow. If it were a normal person around her age Farrah would have shouted and pushed her into the snow but this was the furthest thing from a normal person, this was a fairy. Farrah hadn’t seen one since she was ten years old and had assumed she’d never see one again, yet here one stood, staring at her backpack with vivid spruce green eyes.

“Hi.” Farrah said nervously.

She held out her backpack.

“You seem like you want to look at this.”

The fairy ripped the backpack out of Farrah’s hands, opened it, took out the iced gingerbread cookie Farrah had packed as a snack, and shoved the backpack back at her. In the second in which Farrah caught it the cookie was demolished. Farrah stared at the fairy in shock as she daintily brushed crumbs off her clothing. The fairy looked up at her sharply, it was clear she wanted Farrah to speak first.

“I’m Farrah.”

She simply replied “I know.”

“Um . . . What’s your name?”

“Holly.”

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“Do you have a last name?”

“None of your business!”

“Uh okay. How do you know my name?”

“You’ve met a couple of my friends. Lavender. And the princess.”

“One of the fairies I met is a princess?!” Farrah asked. “Which one?

Was it the one with the red hair?”

“We prefer the term Fay thank-you-very-much!” Holly said in an offended voice. “And yes, that’s the one, Princess Piper.”

“I’m afraid I offended her. I didn’t mean to! All I did was ask why she didn’t have wings!”

Holly laughed. The sound closely resembled the tinkering of a little bell.

“The princess’s very sensitive about that. She’s half human you see, so she didn’t acquire that trait. All the species of fairy she is have wings...

Except for her.” Holly said contemptuously.

“What kind of fairy am I you asked?”

“I didn’t-“ “I’m a elf.”

Before Farrah could reply the elf rattled on. In just a matter of minutes she’d gone from being antisocial to extremely talkative! She was saying at the moment “There’s some good with being half human I suppose. Fay are irrational, emotional, unpredictable, we can’t focus on tasks, we don’t think before we act; that’s what Piper says anyway.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Farrah already knew too well what fairies were like.

“You’re a great listener!” Holly exclaimed. “You seem like a very special little girl.”

For a moment she simply stared at Farrah with a loving expression.

Farrah squirmed in discomfort.

“Here!”

Holly pulled a beautiful porcelain doll dressed in light pink silk and lace out of the air and offered it to Farrah. Farrah was much too old for 23

dolls but she didn’t say so, instead she politely took it. Farrah looked down into its perfect face. When she looked up again Holly was gone and the school bus was rounding the corner. *** Much later, when Farrah was a teenager, yet another fairy came to her house. Farrah was in her room doing homework when it knocked gently on the door. She opened it, expecting the person on the other side to be a neighborhood friend, and upon seeing it was a fairy nearly slammed the door shut again. It was a fairy she’d never seen before, a girl around her age with bright yellow skin and eyes and a rainbow of flowers braided into her wavy yellow hair who was holding a cream-colored box. Her ears were pointier than the other fairies Farrah had met and she had a small pair of fragile looking wings that were as thin as tissue paper.

“Hi! Holly asked me to give this to you.” She said in a perky voice and handed the box to Farrah.

“Why couldn’t Holly deliver it herself?”

“It’s too hot out for her. Elves like places that are freezing!”

“Oh. What kind of fair-Fay are you?” Farrah asked. She’d remembered just in time that fairies preferred to be called Fay. The fairy didn’t seem to have noticed the slip-up. She said cheerfully, “I’m a pixie!

I’m Daisy!”

Farrah didn’t bother to introduce herself, she knew Daisy already knew her name.

“Well thank you Daisy for the delivery!”

“Uh-huh! Holly really seems to like you.” Daisy giggled bubbly.

“Holly’s a Chatty Cathy, isn’t she?”

Farrah nodded politely.

“Good bye! Thank you!” Farrah said in her sweetest voice and started to swing close the door.

“Wait!! I want to see you open it!”

Farrah gritted her teeth. She reopened the door with an obviously fake smile, knowing by now that what stood in front of her, despite being 24

beautiful and magical, was dangerous and unpredictable, something she should humor and treat with the utmost respect.

She took the lid off the box and pulled out a gorgeous dress that shimmered and glowed with a million colors. It had long wispy sleeves and its skirt ended in graceful curves like the petals of a tightly closed flower.

Farrah gasped and Daisy squealed in excitement at her reaction.

“It’ll look Soooo Cute on you! Now, we know you and your best friend planned to wear matching dresses to Homecoming but this is Way better! Everyone will be Soooo jealous! Silas will definitely notice you!!”

Farrah stepped back.

“How did you know me and Zoe were gonna wear matching dresses?

How do you know my crush’s name?!”

“We spy on you obviously!” Daisy said with another bubbly giggle.

“You Spy On Me?!”

“Oh, don’t be like that! We’re just looking out for you!”

Farrah screamed at her. She screamed things at her she’d never said before, things she’d get in terrible trouble for if her parents were home.

She expected the fairy to reach out with her hands dripping with poison but instead Daisy just gave her an evil look and stormed away.

The next morning Farrah awoke to find her room trashed and her hair twisted into a huge impossible to untangle knot. Propped up on the bedside table was a note which read in sparkly yellow letters “Love Daisy”. The “I” was dotted with a little flower. *** Later, on Halloween, Farrah was once again bothered by supernatural forces. She’d just gotten back from taking her little cousin trick-or-treating and was unpinning a pair of wings from Skylar’s bumblebee costume when they heard a loud thud from the living room. Farrah got up from the kitchen table to investigate.

“Stay right there, Skylar.” She whispered.

Skylar nodded absentmindedly and went back to stacking her smarties.

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Upon entering the living room Farrah shouted in surprise. Laying in front of her were two fairies.

One was light green and the other had thick glittering hot pink hair that went down to her ankles.

Both were wingless and, like the other fairies she’d encountered, female. On the end table was a pile of candy wrappers and on the ground beside it Skylar’s now empty trick-or-treat bag. It seemed that both fairies were passed out from a sugar crash, the green one on the couch and the pink haired one on the floor beside the armchair. At Farrah’s shout they startled awake. A cloud of glittery gas spurted from the pink haired fairy and thick grey sludge began bubbling up from between the green one’s fingers.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! It’s me! Farrah!”

The look of panic disappeared from their faces. The glittery cloud dissipated and the grey sludge disappeared back into the green fairy’s pores with a strange sucking sound that made Farrah cringe.

“Farrah.” The pink haired fairy said with a soft smile.

“Pretty!” A childish voice shrieked.

Farrah turned around to find Skylar standing at the living room’s threshold reaching out for the fairies longingly.

“Awww! Come here, Sweet.” The pink haired fairy crooned.

“Skylar no!”

Farrah made a grab for her. She missed and Skylar ran into the pink fairy’s perfect arms. She scooped up the little girl and set her on her lap.

The green fairy leaned over Skylar and caressed her cheek.

“Sugarplum.”

“Little Marzipan.” The pink fairy added, stroking Skylar’s hair.

“What an adorable human! Can we keep her, Cruella?”

“The princess would never let us.” The green fairy replied.

Farrah noticed that even the whites of her eyes had a green tint.

The pink fairy pouted.

“May I please have my little cousin back?” Farrah asked, choosing her words very carefully.

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“Farrah.” Cruella said. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“No. Could I please-” “She’s Cruella.” The pink fairy said, pointing at the green.

“And she’s Zelda.” Cruella said, pointing at Zelda.

“Nice to meet you.” Farrah muttered.

She glanced at the front door where she could hear her and Skylar’s parents chatting outside. If she could just get their attention! The next thing she knew Zelda was lifting Skylar off her lap.

She set the little girl on the couch and kissed her forehead. Her lips left a rosy heart shaped mark.

Cruella said “Bye bye, Gumdrop.” and patted Skylar on the head.

Farrah didn’t know how the conversation had ended so suddenly. She wondered if she blacked out, or maybe Cruella and Zelda had just gotten bored. As they passed Farrah on their way to the back door Zelda said “Thanks for the candy.”

“I didn’t-” “Yeah whatever.” Cruella interrupted.

The door slammed shut behind them with a loud bang.

“They smelled yummy.” Skylar said. “Like cinnamum!”

Farrah went over to her.

“Are you alright?”

Up close it was clear the mark Zelda left on her head wasn’t lipstick like Farrah originally thought. It looked more like a birthmark and shimmered rose gold in the light . . . *** By the time Farrah was a young adult she’d read everything about fairies she could lay her hands on in an attempt to figure them out and had taken precautions against them. She wore her hair in a pixie cut so she’d never again wake to find a vengeful fairy had tied it into knots, she always wore rings, bracelets, and earrings made of iron, there were theories that fairies were fallen angels so she always wore a little cross around her neck, and she wore dark colors because she wanted to look as little like the bright sparkling Fay as possible. The only cheerful thing on Farrah was a 27

small light purple silhouette of a fairy tattooed on her wrist. It was there to remind her of the first fairy she’d met and the fact that the fairies could pop up at any moment. She was reading a book in her college’s courtyard when a voice asked “What happened to you, Farrah?”

Farrah could tell from its sweet lilting tone that the speaker was a fairy. She turned around to find it sitting in the tree above her. It was a young woman with bright blue skin and eyes who had startlingly bright white hair in a French bob like a flapper girl.

“You used to be such a happy pretty girl! Now you look like a Goth!”

There was something different about this fairy. Unlike the others Farrah had met she didn’t radiate sickly sweetness. And there was something in her voice that suggested she didn’t really care about Farrah.

“Hi! What’s your name?” Farrah asked sweetly, trying to intimate the other fairies from her childhood. Ignoring the question, the fairy gracefully slid down from the tree and approached her. She circled Farrah, shaking her head in disapproval. Farrah watched her warily, fighting the urge to shove her. The fairy reached out to straighten Farrah’s jacket but recoiled with a pained gasp when her bright blue fingers were an inch away.

“You’re wearing iron?!” The fairy asked. “How could you?! After all we’ve done for you!”

“After all you’ve done for me?” Farrah asked with a harsh laugh.

“You and your friends spy on me, you give me beautiful gifts and then take them away again, you stole my baby cousin’s Halloween candy a-and did something to her, and one of your friends trashed my room and ruined my hair while I was sleeping!”

“We’ve done more good than bad.” The fairy replied. “We’ve watched over you, protected you, and made sure you got everything you wanted! You just never noticed!”

It was true that since Farrah was a little girl, about ten years old, everything went her way. Since around the time she’d met her first fairy she’d been popular, gotten perfect grades, never got caught for causing trouble and never so much as skinned her knee or fallen off her bicycle.

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And when her parents had said no to something she wanted she’d later find it on her bed or in the garage.

“Maybe that’s so.” Farrah said hesitantly. “But what about my cousin? What did Zelda do to her?!!”

“Skylar’s very lucky to have been marked by a fairy! That mark’s blessed her with good fortune and protects her from magic. And with it being a troll mark it’s extremely powerful. We can’t get near her!”

It relieved Farrah to know her cousin wasn’t being stocked by the fairies like she was. Though she found it difficult to believe fair stately Zelda with her glittery pink hair was a troll, she’d always imagined trolls as squat ugly creatures.

“Zelda was foolish to give her that mark! Skylar’s so much nicer and prettier than you! I don’t know what my friends see in you! Well um, there is that one thing. But it’s probably not true!”

She smiled slyly at Farrah, waiting for her to ask. Farrah just glared at her.

After a moment the fairy exclaimed “Fine, I’ll tell you! The princess thinks one of your birth parents was part Fay.” The fairy laughed cruelly at Farrah’s reaction and said tauntingly “What? You didn’t know you were adopted?”

Farrah blurted out “Are you a dark Fay?” “No!” The fairy laughed. “You don’t wanna meet a dark Fay trust me!”

“Are any of the Fay that “watch over me” dark?”

“If a dark fairy were interested in you you’d be insane or dead. And, speaking of insanity, that’s my special power! See, I’m not a dark Fay but I’m not as well-meaning as my friends.”

She held out her hand and a blue light appeared above it.

“I can make that girl who was mean to you in class raving mad.” She said with a twisted grin.

“N-no thank you.” Farrah stammered.

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The fairy shrugged. The blue light disappeared from her hand and she vanished into thin air. *** It was Farrah’s wedding day. She was readjusting her veil in a back room of the chapel, her bridesmaids waiting outside the door for her to finish preening, when she heard an unfamiliar voice. She spun around.

Behind her was a plain looking young man she’d never seen before.

“Must be from Seth’s side of the family.” She thought.

Out loud she said “Hello, did Seth ask you to see me?”

“Who?” He asked.

There was an oddly unreal quality to his voice. It was familiar but Farrah couldn’t quite place where she’d heard it before. Before Farrah could question him he pulled a dress made of faux iridescent petals out of the air. At the bottom of the dress the petals abruptly stopped and gave way to an incredibly long train tinted with pastel horizontal stripes like a rainbow and the top of the dress was low cut and shaped like the top of a heart. It was bizarrely beautiful and otherworldly, Farrah gasped and her eyes started filling with tears as she imagined herself walking down the aisle in such a magical dress.

“It’s from all of us.” The boy, who Farrah realized was a Fay, said.

He gave it to her and as she examined the fabric he said “We’re so proud of you.”

Farrah looked up at him. She noticed he had the same features as the other fairies; pointed ears, color changing pupils, but on him they looked unextraordinary, he could almost pass for human.

“I know we’ve never met,” He continued. “Like all nymphs I’m very shy, but my friends and I have watched over you for a very long time.

There’s something very special about you. We can sense it! It’s been a privilege to watch you grow up Farrah!”

Then he blushed bashfully, his cheeks turning strawberry pink.

“Thank you.” Farrah said softly with shining eyes.

His blush dissipated a little and he nodded. Farrah turned to the mirror and held the dress in front of her. She felt like she was overflowing 30

with happiness. Her eyes widened a little as she saw the nymph morph a vase of withered roses into a bouquet of outlandish flowers, neon bright shimmery things, just by running his pointer finger across a leaf. He offered them to her but before she could accept them he gave a little wave goodbye and disappeared. The bouquet fell to the floor with a wet plop.

Farrah picked them up and took a big sniff. They smelled like cinnamon like the fairies mixed with something like expensive perfume and something toxic smelling like sulfur. *** “Farrah!!”

Farrah nearly jumped a foot in the air. She’d thought she was alone.

Yet upon opening the bathroom door she was met by all eight of her fairy guardians. They were standing uncomfortably close to her in a tight cluster. Farrah smiled politely and tried to slip through to the living room.

Even though they parted for her she nearly gagged on their strong cinnamon odor.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be a mother!” Daisy exclaimed.

“Your baby girls are gonna be Soooo cute!”

“It feels like just yesterday you were that little girl I stole cookies from.” Lavender added.

Holly said “Our Farrah’s all grown up!”

Then she swatted at Lavender who’d just created a great gust of wind with a flutter of her wings.

“Stop it! You’ll ruin our Farrah’s house!”

Piper said “We have big plans for your little girls.”

Farrah asked “I’m having a girl?”

She sat down on the living room couch and dropped the positive pregnancy test into her lap.

“You’re having two girls!” Zelda exclaimed excitedly.

She bounced into the seat beside Farrah.

Cruella added “Beautiful identical twin girls with blonde hair and blue eyes like you!”

“We have big plans for them.” The blue fairy said.

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“Yes, we do Blossom!” Piper replied. “Their names will be Taffeta and Faya and your eldest, Taffeta, will be heir to my throne! Which means of course I’ll have to raise her but we’ll leave you a replacement daughter.”

“YOU’LL WHAT?!!”

“We’ll replace her.” The nymph said meekly.

He was hanging halfway out the back window making the ivy growing on her house crawl into the room.

“You’re not taking my baby!”

“But we are.” Blossom said with a shrug.

“You’ll have a changeling.” Piper said. “And we’ll bless your second born at her birth!”

“I’m going to bless her with beauty!” Daisy exclaimed.

Holly said “I’ll bless her with charm.”

Blossom said “I’ll bless her with intelligence. Intelligence is more important for a young lady than beauty and charm.”

“I think happiness is most important.” The nymph said.

By this time he’d finished making the ivy grow and was making flower buds like little brightly glowing globes pop up from the vines.

“I’m going to bless her with happiness.”

“You’re not doing anything to my children! You’re not gonna come near my children!!!”

“Try n stop us.” Blossom said.

Farrah was about to swing at her when Piper roughly grabbed her by the arm.

“Let’s talk in private.” She said.

“No!” Farrah shouted.

She tried to wrench herself free but despite Piper’s delicate appearance her grip was tough as steel. She pulled Farrah into the bedroom with such force that Farrah lost her footing and collapsed onto the bed.

“Listen!” Piper snapped. “I need Taffeta to be my heir! Fay aren’t fit to be rulers, we need a human to lead us! We couldn’t even build a 32

civilization on our own, a powerful sorceress did it for us and put my grandmother in charge. My grandparents and parents ran the kingdom into the ground and because of their mismanagement nearly everyone died of plague! You don’t know how hard it’s been to keep the little that’s left of my people together!”

When she finished she was breathing hard from her angry rant.

“I’m sorry your kingdom fell,” Farrah said. “But you can’t have my baby. Adopt an orphan to be your heir, or better yet get help from an adult.

But you can’t-” “I don’t want some other little girl! I want yours! And I’m gonna have yours! Because I’m a fairy and you’re just a puny little human!”

Farrah opened her mouth to snap back at her, then smiled sweetly instead.

“Why don’t we talk about this over ice cream?”

Piper’s eyes lit up.

“I know you Fay really like sugar.”

Piper started nodding vigorously, then stopped herself.

“Everyone likes sugar.” She said.

Farrah barely concealed a smirk.

“Gather everyone in the kitchen.”

Once all the fairies were seated at the kitchen table Farrah passed out bowls of brown or green ice cream from unlabeled cartons as well as silverware she had specially made with traces of iron in it. The fay started eating as soon as they were given spoons, swallowing giant spoonfuls of the frozen dessert quicker than Farrah thought was possible. They didn’t even realize the utensils were burning them until their hands started smoking. Once they dropped their spoons they realized the ice cream was bitter instead of sweet and spat it out. Most of them spit it into their napkins but a few spat on the table. Their spit must have been extremely acidic because it burned through the napkins and singed the table. The blood bubbling up from their wounded hands was clear.

“You really thought we were gonna have an ice cream social?”

Farrah taunted.

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She slipped off her iron bracelet and wielded it in front of her.

“You can’t kill us with that thing.” Blossom said while examining the purple burn across her blue palm.

“No but I can hurt you.” Farrah replied.

“I thought we were friends!” Nymph exclaimed in a hurt voice.

“Friends?!”

Those who weren’t whimpering over their injuries nodded.

“Your guardian angels.” Zelda said.

Farrah laughed.

“You’re the furthest thing from angels there is! There’s no way in hell I’m letting you near my children! I want you weird crazy sugar addict freaks out of my life!!!”

At this the fairies rose from their chairs with murderous looks. Farrah had never seen them like this before, not even at their angriest. Resisting the urge to run away she said in her loudest most intimidating voice “Get Out! Get Out Of My House And GET OUT OF MY LIFE!!”

They disappeared. *** Since that moment everything stopped magically going Farrah’s way.

But she didn’t mind, on the contrary she was ecstatic because it meant she was free from the fairies. On the first day of spring she gave birth to identical twin blonde blue-eyed girls just like the Fay predicted and out of respect she named her daughters Taffeta and Faya just like they’d wanted. After the newborn babies were cleaned up she never left them out of her sight. Even so, once they’d gotten their daughters home Farrah and her husband noticed the twins looked different. One child’s hair was like sunlight, her sky-blue eyes were abnormally bright and sparkly, and her smooth as satin skin had its own ethereal glow. The other child was a ugly little thing, yellowish and withered. The fairies had gotten what they wanted.

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Fierce, Artwork by Marie Specker 35

Spider-Man; the Virtuous Essay by Hailey Winona Mullins Peter Parker is a nerdy, girl-next-door-loving boy who finds himself with spider-like abilities after a trip to the museum. A spider had gotten loose in the exhibit and it bit Peter. Over time he had realized he could shoot webs, stick to things, and even possess a spider “sense”. Peter quickly realizes he must use his powers for good after he finds his uncle bleeding out after an armed robbery had occurred. Immediately after Uncle Ben took his last breath, Peter was off to find his murderer. Peter had every intent on killing the man who murdered his uncle, but when it came time to do it, he hesitated. The man tripped out the window and ultimately caused his own fate. Peter recalled the time his uncle had told him, “With great power comes great responsibility.” This is Peter’s driving force to make a change and be an ethical hero. But when faced with certain decisions how would Spider-Man choose what is and is not virtuous?

The Trolley Problem refers to a problem that tests your psych and how you view ethical dilemmas. You are faced with multiple hard questions, the main one being, who would you save? Would you save a larger number or one person? Whose life matters more, or are they all equal? The Trolley Problem goes as follows: a trolley is running down a track where it can either go one of two routes. The first route, there are 5 people tied down to the tracks. The second route, there is only one person tied down to the tracks. You have the ability to pull a lever and decide which route the trolley should take. There are many theories surrounding this ethical dilemma, and many questions you might have that go along with it. You might ask yourself how old are the people on the tracks?

What do they do in life? Those things might affect your decision on how you may act. Now apply this to Spider-Man’s life.

On many occasions, Peter has made the ethical decision to save everyone’s lives, no matter how strenuous. For example, he saved the bus full of kids and Mary Jane at the same time. But unfortunately for Spider36

Man and his universe, it can’t always work like this. There will be moments where Peter must make an excruciatingly painful decision that could ultimately result in death. Peter has his reservations about killing, even villains. He did not want to kill the Green Goblin, his best friend’s dad, and tried to talk him down from his evil-doings. But he failed.

As I had mentioned previously, Peter gained abilities including a “spidey-sense”. This sense allows him to feel things around him before they actually come into contact with him. Green Goblin sent his glider from behind Peter, and he maneuvered it, ultimately killing the Green Goblin. This could be interpreted as Peter choosing to allow Mr. Osborn to die, as he could have stopped the glider with webs, or tried to take him to the hospital. But he sees this as an ethical decision to allow him to die in order to protect the city, and the people he loves. Just like when he came face-to-face with his uncle’s murderer and allowed him to fall to his fate, Peter had a justified look on his face.

Even while taking into account who those 6 trolley people may be, Peter’s superhero complex and structure will not allow him to choose the one over the many, even if the one is his family or loved one. If Peter knows there is no other choice, he will choose the many. As seen in Marvels Spider-Man game of 2018, Peter has a trolley decision to make.

His Aunt May is dying and there is only one antidote. This antidote can be used only once on Aunt May, or it can be studied longer, and produce more to save multiple lives. But by the time they produce more, Aunt May will be dead. Peter struggles in this heart-wrenching scene, as his Aunt who is like his mother, suffers in front of him. He ultimately chooses to let her go, and save the antidote for the scientists to reproduce.

To be on this level of decision making is hard. Peter has capabilities far greater than ours, but he is still human, making these Trolley Problems far more spiritually damaging for him. He will always do his best to be virtuous and ethically good, even if that means the people he loves might suffer. That is why ultimately, he cuts Mary Jane out of his life to avoid her being harmed.

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If we all lived this way and made our decisions in this super-hero-like way, we might not experience the joys in life. We are all searching for love that runs deep. We all want to feel something good, something that feeds us, and those things lie within deep connections to other humans. If we were all like Peter Parker and were forced to choose between our family and the world, we would have to choose the many every time, because that’s what super-heroes do, it is their job. Spider Man is afraid to love people because it can cause them harm, and it can also put him in terrible ethical decisions that always end badly, where he must choose the many. If we all lived like this, no one would have any strong bonds, worth living or dying for. You would have to be able to let them go.

I do not believe if everyone lived this way, it would be good. No one would be happy, and relationships between us would be severed for the sake of the many. But I do believe we need Spider-Mans in our world, to save the people who need it and who cannot be saved otherwise. SpiderMan is a self-less man who would give his own life to save the world, and that is needed in this life.

Specifically, regarding the Trolley Problem, Peter would ultimately save the many. Like many heroes, their goal is to stop crime as much as possible, and 5 deaths is far greater than 1. It would be upsetting to SpiderMan to have to choose, but when he wears his mask, he understands that his powers and his superhero title comes with a great responsibility.

References F. (Director). (2017, August 29). Spiderman (2002) | chasing Uncle Ben's Killer | Clip 4K [Video file]. Retrieved March 9, 2021, from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dZz7uksm9lM L. (Director). (2019, November 05). The philosophy OF SPIDER-MAN: How would Peter Parker solve the Trolley Problem? [Video file].

Retrieved March 9, 2021, from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kNvKkaVPDJk 38

My Running Shoes, Artwork by Kayla Hess

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Mushroom, Photograph by Kassondra Taylor

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Sheltered Poem by Angela Lang I have a dream of dancing above the clouds.

Not a care on the world.

I am sheltered from the pain.

I am pulled from the eye of the storm, escaping fate.

He shelters me…

As I dream of a wonderous world.

He pulls me close in my time of need.

He calls my name night after night In an enchanted memory.

In my dream I am sheltered from the pain.

Only in my dreams am I sheltered.

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Submission Guidelines Initiated in January 2005, Lions-on-Line is a literally collection of works by the students and alumni of Mount St. Joseph University published online with the cooperation of the Liberal Arts Department.

Lions-on-Line is published online twice yearly, during the fall and spring semesters. When our budget allows, Lions-on-Line goes “in print”. We take submissions during all twelve months of the year.

If you are currently affiliated with Mount St. Joseph and you would like to see your work published, you may submit your work to LOL simply by emailing poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction or artwork to LOL@msj.edu.

For full submission guidelines, consult our website.

Lions-on-Line is always looking for new staff members. If you’re interested in joining LOL, please contact faculty advisor, Elizabeth Taryn Mason, Ph.D. at the following email address: elizabeth.mason@msj.edu.

Editors and Staff Editor-in-Chief:

Madison Axtell

Assistant Editors:

Ashley Bell Elycia Edwards Chloe-Rose Ramsey Ariana Spencer

Faculty Advisor:

Elizabeth Taryn Mason

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Survivor, Artwork by Angel Lang

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