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A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY

Issue 5

ISSUE 5

A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE

Teeny

Toshiba

ISSUE 5


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

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A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE

…TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY

OUR RADIO SHOW WILL AIR AGAIN IN MAY 2013! THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE!

GOOD-BYE RYAN GILL

LISTEN TO SHOWS HERE

Ryan Gill, stabbed to death early on March 30, 2013, at The Backyard in Boynton Beach.

ISSUE 5

by PALM BEACH POST WRITER

Police: Brothers in jail after fatal stabbing at Boynton Beach bar

By Sonja Isger and Leslie Gray Streeter Palm Beach Post Staff Writer

Related Share condolences: Guest book for Ryan Gill

Vakhtang Magradze (PBSO)

BOYNTON BEACH — Ryan Gill was a good guy to have around, said Jennifer Rose Zavala, his

lifelong

friend

and

former

finacée. The

33-year-old

lifelong

city

resident was “a big guy and exbouncer (who) would take it upon himself to stop a fight, always there


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

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when you needed him,” Zavala

people opening up,” says Mayor

officer

said. “He would do anything for

Jerry Taylor. “Crime is down 12½

custody.

anyone, and if he loved you, you

percent in the last few years. We’ve

The stabbing came about four

knew it when he looked at you, and

got to be proactive when it comes

hours

everyone around him would feel it.”

to fighting crime.

Boynton Beach was slain in front of

That ended early Saturday. Gill was

“But if you’re the person who gets

a convenience store in the 100

stabbed to death at The Backyard

hit in the head, that doesn’t mean

block of Northeast 10th Avenue.

Boynton Beach, a restaurant and

anything to you.”

Officers were still searching for the

bar on Northeast Fourth Street.

Chrissy Benoit, the owner of The

gunman late Saturday. Anyone with

City police arrested two brothers

Little House restaurant on Ocean

information is urged to call police at

and charged one of them with

Avenue, shared Taylor’s sadness

561-732-8116 or Crime Stoppers at

second-degree murder. It was the

for both the victims and the city.

800-458-TIPS (8477).

second homicide within four hours

Despite “all this effort and all these

Taylor said he was encouraged by

in the city’s neighborhoods north of

people with good ideas and good

Madgradze’s

Boynton Beach Boulevard and west

energy, a violent group of people

“pretty confident that we’ll get” the

of U.S. 1. A 27-year-old man was

(came) and that’s how they handle

gunman.

shot to death around 9 p.m. Friday.

things,” she said.

“We work very hard to stay on top

Vakhtang

Magradze,

was

“This could have happened in Lake

of this,” he said. “But sometimes,

charged

with

second-degree

Worth, or in Delray. People have

when

murder in the stabbing death, along

that perception of Boynton, and it’s

something stupid at a bar, I don’t

with aggravated assault on a police

incredibly frustrating,” she said.

know how you prevent that. But we

officer, resisting an officer with

“People were just trying to have fun,

work very hard to make sure these

violence

of

or trying to run a business, and in

places are safe.”

aggravated battery, said Stephanie

30 seconds things can just go

The Backyard wasn’t safe enough

Slater, police spokeswoman. His

wrong.”

for Gill. Zavala last saw him about a

brother, Alexandre Magradze, was

Police were conducting an extra

week ago, when he took the dog

charged with affray.

patrol at The Backyard — formerly

they still share to the vet.

City officials and business owners

known as Cuthill’s Backyard Bar —

“The biggest thing about him,” she

called both incidents troubling and

around 1 a.m. when the fight broke

said, “was his heart.”

frustrating as Boynton Beach tries

out. The officers saw Vakhtang

Staff writer Julius Whigham II

to grow into a bustling area of

Magradze stab Gill multiple times,

contributed to this story.

restaurants,

Slater said. The cause of the

and

two

27,

counts

condominiums

and

waterfront pastimes.

altercation was not specified.

“We work very strongly with our

Several patrons and employees

Citizens on Patrol. We’ve gotten our

tried to stop the fight, and two

officers out of their cars and on

Backyard workers suffered minor

bicycles, so they can meet the

injuries,

people, and that’s helped a lot with

Magradze also tried to stab a police

Slater

said.

Vakhtang

while

after

being

taken

Adrian

arrest

somebody

into

Wright

and

starts

of

feels

doing


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

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LET’S TANGO! ON APRIL 27TH, 2013 COME JOIN DANCE INSTRUCTORS MICHAEL AND AYRIAL AT THE BEAT CUP CAFÉ IN DELRAY BEACH AT 8 PM FOR A LITTLE LESSON IS TANGO!!!!

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A CLASSICAL TWIST Rybytskyy’s unwavering drive will not allow him to rest. He has already been accumulating material for a third release in the near future. Future recordings of his will include progressive rock

versions of some of Beethoven and Bach’s compositions. Rybytskyy looks forward to the possibility of using a vocalist in some recordings as well in order to expand the diversity of his music. You will also be able to hear some of Rybytskyy’s work on television and film as he has recently signed deals with publishers and music libraries for commercial use.


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY

Issue 5

MAGGIE BAUGH by REVERBNATION PAGE

Maggie Baugh is a dynamic 13 year old girl with a passion for music and a burning desire to perform. Maggie Baugh plays guitar, fiddle, and classical violin. She has been playing violin and fiddle since she was 6 years old. She started playing guitar, and songwriting in November of 2011. Maggie loves to perform both her original music, and covers from her favorite artists. Maggie has 13 original songs. but her favorite is "Tennessee Dream", which expresses her burning

desire to perform in Nashville. Other songs include: "You" is about a person who you thought was a friend but then turned into a bully; "Middle School" is about going through it with your head up and not letting anyone stop your dream; "Be who I wanna Be" is

about being yourself and not someone our not. Even though Maggie is only 13, she has performed at the following locations: Chrystal Hartigan's Singer Songwriter Showcase Broward Center for the Performing Arts Fort Lauderdale, Florida Willow Theater, Sugar Sands, Boca Raton, FL Big Picture Café, Davie, FL Maltz Theatre, Jupiter, FL Round Up Country Nightclub, Davie, FL Borland Theatre, Palm Beach

Gardens, FL Wellington Theater, Wellington, FL Luna Star Café, Miami Tutti Frutti Yogurt, Boca Raton WLRN – NPR – Miami (radio interview and played 3 songs) B-Bad, Boynton Beach Art District, Boynton Beach, FL Kevro's Art Bar, Delray Beach, FL

Galleria Mall, Fort Lauderdale, FL Gypsy's Horse, Wellington, FL Bak Middle School of the Arts, WPB, FL Broward County Fair Promenade at Coconut Creek (South Florida Parenting Magazine holiday festival) Tri-Rail Airport Station, Dania Beach, FL Fraternal Order of Police, Lodge 50, WPB, FL BB KINGS Restaurant, WPB, FL Magic Toy Drive, Hollywood Central Performing Arts Center, Hollywood, FL Wylders Waterfront Bar & Grill, Jupiter, FL (opened for Cowboy Troy!) Winterfest Boat Parade, Ft Lauderdale, FL Boca Raton 5k/10k POWER SHOWCASE - Marlins Ballpark, Miami (National Anthem) Delray Beach First Night, Delray Beach, FL Commitment Day, Athletic Club, Boca Raton, FL Boca Raton Fine Art Show Festivus, Broward County Folk Club River Walk Sunday Arts, Ft Lauderdale, FL Deerfield Beach Arts Fest Lake Park Pirate Fest South Florida Fair - WPB FL Founders Day Festival - Deerfield Beach, FL Orange Blossom Festival, Davie FL Florida Strawberry Festival - Plant City, FL Boca Boat & Beach Bash for Disabilities Royal Palm Arts & Music Fest Carnegie Hall - New York City (with school orchestra) Concerts on the Corner - Davie Florida


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

Quiet Waters Park - Deerfield Beach Relay for Life Nashville: International Music Fest Otters Chicken Red Rooster The Commadore Grill Broadway (yes, on the street) To see more of Maggie Baugh, check her out at Facebook and her website: www.maggiebaugh.com www.facebook.com/likemaggie

ZUMBA HAS BECOME HER TRADEMARK

His musical landscape is quite dynamic, highly original and even unpredictable in scope. Rybytskyy's stuff is a very dynamic and fascinating catalogue of music. The music is highly original and not so easily pinned down during the first go around. Its strong suit is the amazing musical depth, impressive musicianship and impressive theatrical quality. The musical textures are compelling and full of variety. Sergey Rybytskyy clearly displays some brilliant creativity and an enormous amount of talent was required to write these songs. His music is definitely a dynamic and progressive musical statement that offers a lot of musical variety via vivid sound and brilliant creative energy.

Fitness By Avis is a full service dance center that offers wellness for the total body in an exciting, energetic and professional environment. It is our goal to offer each of our customers a lifestyle of fitness and health. SERGEY RYBYTSKYY Welcome to the powerful, art-filled music of Ukrainian musical Wizard, Sergey Rybytskyy. Sergey’s albums show the many sides of his musical skills and writing talent.

FAST FACTS

INTERVIEWS http://indiemusicdigest.com/Sergey%20Rybytskyy%20I nterview.html http://www.ucombo.com/reviews/an-interview-withukranian-composer-sergey-rybytskyy/

SOCIAL MEDIA https://plus.google.com/110283761473244422675 http://www.linkedin.com/in/rybytskyy http://www.facebook.com/Rybytskyy http://www.twitter.com/Rybytskyy http://www.artistserver.com/sergey_rybytskyy http://www.purevolume.com/rybytskyy/

Reviews:

http://www.artistopia.com/rybytskyy

http://progreviews.blogspot.no/2012/08/sergeyrybytskyy-new-vista-2012.html

http://www.showcaseyourmusic.com/rybytskyy

http://www.midtnmusic.com/a-labyrinth-in-music-bysergey-rybytskyy/

FITNESS BY AVIS At Fitness By Avis you will be greeted by Avis and Ciana Boetius -- the dynamic mother-daughter team of Florida!

5

http://ampedsounds.com/?os_music=reviews-sergeyrybytskyy-new-vista http://www.handsoffpromotions.com/?section=blog/ser gey_rybytskyy_in_labyrinths_of_the_soul/ http://indiemusicdigest.com/Sergey%20Rybytskyy%20 CD%20Review%20on%20INDIE%20MUSIC%20DIGEST .htm http://janvanzee.blogspot.com/2012/03/sergeyrybytskyy-new-vista.html http://www.ucombo.com/reviews/new-vista-sergeyrybytskyy/ http://www.bluesbunny.com/tabid/325/xmmid/1030/xmi d/3396/xmview/2/default.aspx


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

Man fatally stabbed at Boynton Beach bar

Magradze's brother, Alexandre Magradze, 29, also was taken into custody. Gill died from his injuries at Delray Medical Center, police said. Saturday, a woman who answered the phone at the home of Gill's relatives said: "They want privacy at this time." James Hall, the owner of The Backyard, said Gill was a regular patron who was known to be a "gentle giant."

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FBI Releases Photos of Two Boston Marathon Bombing Suspects Published: Thursday, 18 Apr 2013 | 5:52 PM ET

He said it appeared Gill may not have been directly involved in the altercation at first and seemed to be trying to protect another patron.

By: Pete Williams, Erin McClam and Tracy Connor

"We think that we built a really great clientele. It's the kind of clientele you dream of for what this place was," Hall said. "This unfortunate, tragic incident kind of sets back what we're trying to accomplish here. Our hearts and prayers go to the family of the victim."  (Palm Beach County Sheriff's…)

March 30, 2013|By Erika Pesantes, Sun Sentinel, By Erika Pesantes, Sun Sentinel

The bar opened about a year ago in the Heart of Boynton, a part of the city that has long strived for redevelopment.

Two brothers have been jailed following a fatal stabbing during a fight at a Boynton Beach bar early Saturday, police said. Police officers were patrolling The Backyard of Boynton Beach — formerly Cuthill's — at 511 NE Fourth St. shortly before 1 a.m., when they said they saw Vakhtang Magradze, 27, repeatedly stab Ryan Gill, 33.

The Magradze brothers were transported to Bethesda Memorial to treat minor injuries, but both now are in Palm Beach County jail, Slater said. Vakhtang Magradze was charged with second-degree murder, aggravated assault on a law enforcement officer, resisting an officer with violence and two counts of aggravated battery. Alexandre Magradze was charged with disorderly conduct.

Magradze also stabbed two male employees who tried to intervene, police said. The employees' injuries were not life-threatening.

Staff researcher Barbara Hijek contributed to this report. epesantes@tribune.com or 954-3564543 or Twitter @epesantes

Magradze also tried to stab a police officer who tried to take him into custody, police spokeswoman Stephanie Slater said.

Source: fbi.gov

Boston police identify two suspects in Monday's bombing. The FBI has released video and photos of two "armed and dangerous" suspects in the Boston Marathon bombing and appealed for the public's help in identifying them.

The images show two men in baseball caps. One of them was seen putting down a black backpack at the site of the second blast in Monday's attack. Both were seen walking together through the crowd.

"Somebody

out

there

knows

these

individuals…though it may be difficult, the nation is counting on those with information to come forward and provide it to us,"


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

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Boston FBI Special Agent in Charge Richard

greatest rebuke to whoever committed this

DesLauriers said at a Thursday briefing.

heinous act."

Read More from NBCNews: Bombing Victims Try to Track Down

"We consider them to be armed and

As Boston grasped for normal life, the city

extremely dangerous," DesLauriers said of

staged its first professional sports event

the men. "No one should approach them...If

since the blasts — a hockey match that the

Who Is the FBI's Agent in Charge of

you

Bruins played against the Buffalo Sabres at

Boston Marathon Case?

see

these

men,

contact

law

enforcement."

Heroes Who Saved Them

TD Garden before 17,000 people. Anatomy of a Bombing: Photos Show

The FBI was also canvassing hobby stores

During the

national

anthem,

the fans

in the Boston area to determine whether

gradually joined in singing, and they sent up

electrical components in the bombs were

a deafening roar over the last few bars. One

bought there, NBC News learned.

YouTube video of the moment had already

Device Components They were housed in metal containers — at least one an everyday kitchen pressure cooker — and studded with metal, including

been viewed more than 100,000 times.

fine nails or brads, to make the devices

At an interfaith prayer service, President Barack Obama reassured both the injured

In the investigation, authorities said that they

and the city.

had made significant progress. However, asked identity

whether of

the

investigators people

of

knew interest

the in

surveillance photos, Gov. Deval Patrick

more lethal.

The type of battery pack used typically powers toy cars and trucks, and tens of thousands have been sold in the past year alone, which would make it difficult to trace,

said, "No." He declined to elaborate.

said Benjamin Mull, vice president of the Forensic work from the blast zone has helped

authorities

components of the bombs.

identify

manufacturer, Tenergy.

major The FBI lashed out at news organizations after some reported Wednesday afternoon that a suspect in the case was in custody.

As of Thursday morning, 58 patients were still being treated in hospitals. That was down from 65 on Wednesday. Play Video

"In general, people are getting better, and

FBI Surveillance Footage of 'Suspects' The FBI released this surveillance video of what they're calling two "suspects" in the Boston Marathon bombing this past Monday. The FBI considers the suspects armed and extremely dangerous.

we are happy with their progress," Dr. Peter Burke, chief of trauma at Boston Medical Center, told reporters early Thursday.

The three people killed in the attack were Lingzi Lu, a Boston University graduate

"You will run again," he declared at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross, less than a mile from the finish line. "Your resolve is the

student;

8-year-old

Martin

Richard

of

Boston; and 29-year-old Krystle Campbell of Medford, a Boston suburb.


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

A trauma surgeon said that doctors have

plastic, from the bodies of the injured, in

pulled fragments as large as 2 inches,

addition to metal shrapnel from the bombs.

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including pieces of wood, concrete and

C I N EXCERPT “Honestly, I had a hard time putting it down.” Melinda Dawn C. CIN “Lynn, Lynn, the City of Sin. You Never Come Out The Way You Went In.” A Novel by Christina Leigh Pritchard

psychiatric hospital.

car.

If that weren’t enough, she must leave sunny south Florida to attend a boarding school full of geniuses in cold, Lynn, Massachusetts. The city where the locals chant “Lynn, Lynn, city of sin; you never come out the way you went in.”

Our home foreclosed and it was eviction day. My mother couldn’t keep a job; no matter how simple or easy it was. She was beautiful with long blond hair and bright green eyes that sparkled when she spoke. She landed every job she applied for but several weeks later and her new employer realized all Amber really was; was a pretty face.

And, they aren’t kidding. Lisa must live in a tiny shack with two strange teenagers, a dog named Pig who growls when you look at him and a cat named Rat. “Mind the cat,” everyone says. What the heck is wrong with this place? Lisa thinks she’s landed in her own house of horrors with the anti-social Alex and his facetious sister Ally. But, the real drama begins the day she is struck by lightning… C I N Book Trailer Copyright © 2010-2012 Christina Leigh Pritchard. All Rights Reserved. Cover art by Michelle Monique. Some Rights reserved. Under Copyright Law: No part of this publication may be reproduced and/or altered without written permission by the copyright holder. Short Synopsis: Seventeen year old Lisa Brown’s life is falling apart. First, her mother and father divorce, then their house forecloses and now, her mother has decided to commit herself to a

Read the first few Chapters… _________________________________ The Doctor said I should be dead. My heart beat furiously. I looked up at the flashes of lightning in the sky. Yes, I should be dead. Why wasn’t I? One Amber Checks In “Lisa, if you don’t finish packing your things, I swear you’ll go with nothing.” My mother, Amber, threatened. She wrapped duct tape around a medium sized box and carried it out to the

I looked nothing like my mom. I was seventeen but still didn’t fit into my body. My hips were too big, my boobs too small and I had Dumbo ears which of course meant that I had to wear my hair down—always. I had long bangs that helped cover up my oddly round, black eyes and I could never find shoes that fit my big feet. “Lisa, I’m not going to tell you again, we leave in twenty minutes. I can’t afford to miss your train.” “Yeah well you could try to hide your enthusiasm.” I rolled my eyes and grabbed an empty box. I surveyed my room. What could I possibly take? I lived in Florida, the sunshine state. I was going to Lynn, Massachusetts. The old saying, “Lynn, Lynn, the city of sin” played over and over inside my mind. How could my mother just drop me off in such a place? Lynn was filled with high crime rates, lack of good paying jobs and supported virtually on nothing more than fish markets and the GE factories. At least it was by the water. I couldn’t


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

imagine life without the ocean and sand between my toes. I could do without the sun tans, I guess, or the hot skaters who practiced on the benches but not the salty water and my toes buried in the warm sand. “LISA! Get in the car.” I evaluated the few things I had. I grabbed two pairs of jeans and anything with sleeves. I picked up my sneakers and my Adidas jacket from off the floor and I tossed my book bag over my shoulder. Inside the box, I put the only family heirloom I had; a picture of my mother and father; before I was born. …When they still loved each other, still laughed, still hoped. That must’ve been something to see. The only time my mother smiled or laughed was during an interview. It was never real and when her eyes set on me, she only frowned. I placed the few articles of clothing on top of my picture and carried the box out to the trunk. My mom had an old 1993 Mitsubishi Mirage with hardly any paint left. The worst part— the air didn’t work; complete suicide in a place where the temperature stayed around ‘90 degrees. “Just take your sweet, precious time there Lisa,” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “I hope you don’t act up with your Aunt Millie. She would be just devastated and when she falls over with a stroke or heart attack from your disrespectful behavior you will have to carry her twenty miles to the nearest town.” “A little dramatic, don’t you think?” I

snapped, tossing my book bag into the back. The seat belt automatically locked me in when I closed the door. (The air conditioning didn’t work, there was hardly any paint left on the vehicle but, hey, at least the automatic seat belts still worked!) “Roll the windows down, mom, it’s hot in here.” I leaned my head out the window to catch the last, hot Florida breeze I’d probably ever feel. “Aunt Millie said you could help her out with her chickens and she’d pay you so that you could buy some warmer clothes while you’re there. I’m sorry I am such a bad mother.” “Why are you leaving me with some woman I don’t know? That’s bad parenting. Mom, you’ve never met this lady. What if she’s a serial killer or a chicken thief or some kind of lunatic?” “I have to do this.” Her eyes stayed glued to the road, “I need to figure out what is wrong with me. I ran off your father with my emotional problems and I don’t want to drag you down with me too.” “Mom, I don’t want to go stay with some stranger.” She couldn’t hear me. She blasted the radio and sang loudly, bouncing her head from left to right. She slapped me in the shoulder. “Stah—op!” “Sing with me, Lisa, it may be a long time before we get to do this again. I may be in that loony bin for a while.” I didn’t think it was funny at all. Who wanted a mother that was crazy? What would I tell people when school

9

started? So, Lisa, where is your mother? Oh, new potential friend, she’s probably in her padded cell wearing a strait jacket. How about your mom? I’ll be miss popularity for sure. Amber turned into the train station and with a deep breath; she took my hands gently in hers. “I’m sorry for being such a screwy mother but I promise I am going to change and we will look back on the past five years and laugh about it all. You believe me, don’t you? That, I am going to change and be a better person?” “Of course, mom, acknowledgment is half the cure.” She was doomed. But, who was I to be the one to tell her that? At least she was signing herself over to them. They’d keep her there until they could fix whatever was wrong inside her brain. “I better go before I miss my train.” I reached into the backseat and grabbed my backpack. “Pop the trunk, mom. I have a box in the back.” “Please be careful. There are some real crazies on the train.” Now she cared? “I’ll be fine, I promise. I have taken public transportation before. Get better soon. I love you.” “Okay,” Amber wiped tears from her eyes. She never said she loved me back. It was a little disturbing. “Don’t talk to strangers.” “Aunt Millie is a stranger.” I retorted.


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

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My mom started her car and sped out of the parking lot like she was escaping a burning building.

Aunt Millie promised to introduce us ahead of time. She said she was a sweet girl.

my hand on the glass and sighed.

“Goodbye mother.”

To be completely honest, I was kind of happy to be moving to Lynn. I hated leaving my friends behind but, a little change of pace didn’t sound so bad. I just wished my mother would come too. Maybe that was all she needed; new surroundings. No, that never helped before. I had a gut feeling that I’d seen my mother for the last time. I didn’t want to accept such a horrific reality so I shoved the idea into the very back of my mind; a place I refused to visit.

Two Lynn, Massachusetts I climbed down the train steps and surveyed my new surroundings. It was a chilly evening. The gray cement walls were covered in spray painted gang symbols, there was trash piled in corners and a bum underneath a wet, limp cardboard box. It was certainly not the kind of place one would want to hang out in. I squinted to see if I spotted Aunt Millie. She said she was stout with short reddish-brown hair. So, I looked for an obese woman with cheaply dyed red hair. I didn’t have to be a genius to know when someone was seasoning their words with salt. I was the queen when it came to showy words and false compliments.

I carried my things across to the other side of the tracks. I had to take an elevator up to a ramp, cross above the tracks and then take another elevator down so that I could wait for the north train. This was going to be the longest ride. It didn’t seem fair really that I was the one who had to travel from the southeast coast all the way northeast just so my mother could ‘stabilize’ herself or as I called it, get more legal drugs that kept her in fairy tale world. She was just a pill popper and I couldn’t stand it. What did I know about Aunt Millie? She’d lived her entire life in Lynn, Massachusetts out in the woods— what was left of it anyway—and worked as a dean at a boarding school for gifted boys and girls. She lived right behind the old school and had her own personal pond, a chicken coup and two pets. One dog named Pig and a Himalayan cat that she called Rat. During the one conversation I had with her she admitted that her pets didn’t really care for her but showed up for dinner and that I was not to pet the cat. Who had pets that did not want to be touched? Since she was a dean at the boarding school, she pulled some strings and was able to enroll me, even though I wasn’t a genius. She made sure to repeat the part about my not being a genius at least three times before moving on to dorm room arrangements. I’d have to dorm with some girl named Donna Denning.

“Ticket?” I looked up at the train conductor. He held out his hand. “Do you have a ticket?” He asked. I nodded, reaching inside my bag. “Sorry, I was daydreaming.” I handed him my crinkled confirmation page. “I ordered over the phone and they told me to write down this number for you.” “You will have to pay with cash once the train starts moving. Did you bring your ID?” I nodded and showed him my learner’s permit. Thanks to Amber, I couldn’t drive yet. I’d never had the chance to practice driving. Maybe Aunt Millie would teach me. “Your assigned seat is 38A.” “Thanks,” I carried my box up the three steps and carefully placed it up above my assigned seat. I should’ve packed more clothes. Oh well, too late for regrets. The train gradually moved forward and I stared out the window. I placed

“Goodbye Florida, Goodbye Mom.”

Besides the bum and some rowdy teenagers; there were only three people waiting and none of them fit the description of my Aunt Millie. So, I sat down on a metal bench and dug in my box for my Adidas jacket. I wrapped myself up and crossed my arms. I’d really have to get used to this weather. It felt like winter in Florida and it was only summer in Lynn. Could you imagine winter time? I looked down at my watch. It had been my one and only gift from my father since he’d left us five years ago. He said this way I’d be on time for things. It didn’t work. I just knew how late I was. It is always better to not know the time. It’s easier to show up late and if someone says, “Do you know what time it is?” you can genuinely answer with, “No, I forgot my watch, what time is it? Am I late?”


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

People forgive you when you leave your watch at home. Aunt Millie was an hour late. I wonder if she forgot her watch… I turned around and took another peek at the people congregating around the train station. There was a woman with three young children, an old man with a suitcase on wheels and a teenage boy about my age. He leaned against the ticket booth with his hands in his baggy jeans. He had on a Red Sox Jersey and a beanie cap shoved down over the top of his head. Did he have hair? Well, he had some facial hair. I squinted to see what was on the side of his arm; a tattoo maybe? He pulled his hands out of his pockets and cupped them around his mouth. “Is there a Lisa Brown here?” He looked at me. I raised my hand. “You Lisa?” He asked again. I nodded. “Lisa Brown?” “Yes, would you like to see my ID?” I rolled my eyes. “Who are you and where is Aunt Millie?” “She had an emergency meeting to attend to. I’m Michael, one of the students at C I N Boarding School.” He crept closer. I could see his tattoo now. It said ‘C I N’. He had long brown hair underneath his beanie cap and it was a go-tee that he sported on his face. He dug in his pocket, pulled out a package of cigarettes and a lighter. I shook my head and frowned. “I thought the kids who went to C I N were geniuses?”

He smiled, catching on immediately. “When you’re as smart as me, the sooner you die the better. Besides that, I have an addictive personality. I can watch the same shows, read the same books, and do the same activities over and over. It’s sad, really.” “Yeah, that is sad.” Michael ignored me. He took my box and led the way out to the parking lot. He didn’t say anything else. His eyes studied the trees and sky. He seemed to be deep in thought or prayer maybe. Please save me from this dreadful female Floridian. Then again, he was a genius… Maybe he did have deep thoughts running through his mind. “I have to stop at the store. Do you mind?” Michael opened the passenger side door of an old white Isuzu Pick-up truck. “No, that’s cool.” I rolled up the window so that the chill didn’t freeze my face. “I have a jacket you can borrow until you get a heavier one.” Michael offered. “It gets pretty chilly at night.” “That’s okay, this one is good.” Michael dug behind the seat and pulled out a wrinkled ski jacket. “Here, wear this.” He tossed it in my lap. “Thanks,” I obeyed overlapping my jacket with his. I placed my hands in front of the warm heat flowing through the vents. I wanted to tell him I was from Florida that this was as cold as our winters ever got but he

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never asked where I was from or why I was so cold. He didn’t put the radio on either; just drove in silence. I tapped my foot on the floorboards and whisked my fingers in front of the warm air as if I was conducting a symphony. Michael glanced at me. “So Michael, what’s C I N like?” I practically sang. If he wasn’t going to entertain me, I’d have to just compromise. “Like any other school, I guess. I’ve gone there since forever.” He turned off the highway and entered the Lynn City Limits. I shook my head and pounded my palms against his dashboard. He jumped. “What are you doing?” “Wrong! Most kids live at home and not at their school. It can’t possibly be like every other school. It’s a ‘special’ school.” Michael stared blankly. He parked in front of a little food mart. “I am going to get some milk. I will be right back.” I dropped back against the seat and sighed. Michael was boring. I couldn’t imagine a bunch of Michaels all around me night and day for an entire school year. Thank goodness I was in my senior year of high school. I could leave Aunt Millie’s house as soon as I was eighteen and live on my own. I looked out the window. Lynn smelled like fish. There were two seafood stands outside the old worn out buildings and overflowing


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garbage cans. Two glass windows next to the food mart were covered in spray painted obscenities. Bass and loud lyrics blared as two cars whizzed by. I saw a hooker loitering in the narrow alley behind the convenience store. Her eyes were red and empty. Where had my mom sent me? I glanced in the side mirror. A girl with long stringy blond hair and thin red highlights glared at me with her hands crossed over her chest. What was her problem? I turned around and pushed my face against the back window, puffing my cheeks out like a blow-fish and waved. She narrowed her eyes and stomped away. I sat back down and laughed. Michael climbed into the cab with his milk. He frowned, “That’s Ally. I wouldn’t get on her bad side if I were you. She’s what the C I N kids call our personal Nazi Commandant.” “Oh.” We drove through thick woods and around a large lake. There was an old stone school with a faded sign that said ‘C I N Boarding School”. The school sat behind the lake. Two small cottages were on the other side of the water. One of those homes must’ve been Aunt Millie’s. I saw a chicken coup in the center of the houses and a cat sitting on top of the chicken wire. Michael grinned, “By the way, Ally, the girl you made faces at, lives with Millie.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Are you crazy?” I twisted sideways and slapped his arm. He slammed on his brakes. “Ouch, what did you do that for?” I flew forward and banged my forehead on the dash. “Oh, I’m such an idiot sometimes. I should’ve minded my own business.” “I hate to be the one to tell you this but it might be you who is a little crazy.” He started his truck, stalling the engine. “Promise not to slap me again and I’ll tell you who else lives with Millie.” “I won’t.” “Ally has a brother named Alex. He’s the smartest guy in our school but not very social.” Michael parked in front of Aunt Millie’s wooden cottage. It was painted bright yellow with a pale green trim. She had flower boxes in the windows and a little lion statue by her front door. “She isn’t one of those people who have a bunch of knick knacks all around the house is she?” I studied the house but Michael covered his face with his hands. “Are you really that slow?” I blinked. “I’m following you just fine. You said Alex was a troubled soul who finds all the kids at C I N boring.” Michael didn’t find me funny in the least bit. His eyes narrowed and he motioned for me to get out of his truck. “I am not boring.”

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I shrugged my shoulders. “No one said you were.” “You’re ridiculous. Now I know why my parents wanted me to go to school with people at the same intelligence level. You, Lisa Brown, are—” “Well, it was nice meeting you Michael. I appreciate the ride.” I grabbed my box and backpack. “Want your jacket back?” I slowly let it slip down my arms. It dropped into the dirt. Michael’s lips pressed tight together. “No, I wouldn’t want you to freeze to death.” He peeled out of Aunt Millie’s driveway. “Mind the cat!” I watched his truck disappear in amongst the trees. Maybe Michael wasn’t boring after all. There was definitely some potential; he could be taken out of his glass bubble with a little persuasion. The jacket lay limp at my feet. I bent down and put it back on my shoulders. It was dark outside and I could hardly see the front door. I picked up my box and climbed the three steps onto the wooden porch. There was a porch swing painted purple of all colors and Aunt Millie had a chipped red door. I lifted my hand, making a fist, ready to knock. Before I could, the door cracked open an inch. “Who are you?” A male voice called from inside. “I-I’m sorry, is this Millie’s house? I’m


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her niece from Florida.” The door swung open and a boy about three inches taller than me stood in the doorway. He had pale blue eyes and nearly bleached blond hair. His lips were thin and his fingernails bitten and chipped. “You must be Alex.” I forced a smile. “My name is Lisa. Are you my cousin?” Alex did not return my smile. Instead, he spun around so that his back faced me and then quickly stomped down the hall. “It was nice meeting you as well.” My voice echoed inside the empty room. I put my stuff by the front door and inspected Aunt Millie’s house. It was small. To the left was a formal living room with just two love seats and to the right was a round, wooden table with four chairs. A galley kitchen was to the right as well. In front of me was a narrow hallway with four doors. I gulped. One had to be a bathroom, one must be Alex’s room, Aunt Millie’s and the last one meant I’d be sharing with, Ally, the cranky girl at the store. Life couldn’t get any better. Maybe I was wrong and there was another door that I couldn’t see from where I stood. Maybe Ally lived next door by herself. Maybe this was all just a dream. Yeah right. I was sharing a room with the Nazi. I sat on one of the sofas and put my hands between my knees. In the corner, between the two sofas was a black and white Boston terrier. “Pig? Is that what they call you?”

The dog looked up at me with his big, bulging eyes and snarled. I scooted over to the other end of the couch. Wow. I’d entered my own personal house of horrors. Pig lay back down and fell asleep. Alex stood in the hallway. I jumped when I saw him. He’d entered so quietly. “I thought you were the dog, coming to attack.” Alex frowned. “He doesn’t like to be bothered. Millie will not be home for a while. It would be wise for you to go to your room. If you are hungry there is food in the refrigerator.” He turned to leave. I opened my mouth and Alex twirled around. “What? What do you want?” “Where’s my room?” He really was everything Michael described. “Also, I need to know where the bathroom is so I can take a shower.” “Sounds reasonable, I suppose. Follow me.” He took two steps backwards and opened the first door to his left. “This is your room. The bathroom is directly across the hall.” He took a deep breath. “Anything else you’d like to inquire about?” I just stared. His light blue eyes danced with anger. Had I said something to offend him? Did he hear me tease him with Michael? I’d been inside the truck, right? Michael said it, not me. I was just an innocent bystander. If this guy was my cousin— “I’m not your cousin.” Alex blurted. My heart beat furiously. Could he

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hear what I was saying? “My family is out of town and Millie offered to stay and watch us until school started. This is my house, not Millie’s. She lives next door.” “Thanks,” I frowned. “Do you have a TV here?” Alex rolled his eyes. “What in the world would we need a TV for?” “To pass the time, I guess.” It felt like a trick question. “Who painted your house all those different colors?” “You have to feed the chickens early so I suggest you go to bed.” He disappeared into the room next to mine. I closed my eyes as his door slammed shut. What was the matter with this place? I turned around and the little Boston terrier stood in the entrance of the hallway, blocking me from passing. “What’s your problem? Pig…” He glared at me intently. “You’re supposed to greet people when they come to your house. You’re supposed to be man’s best friend.” I went into the bedroom. It was tiny and there was only one bed. I wouldn’t have to share with the Nazi, would I? I sure hoped not. Pig stood in my doorway. His head peered around the corner with his bug eyes. I sat down on the bed and stared back. “So, I’m not allowed to touch the cat but what about you? Are you friendly?” Pig growled. I crossed my legs and put my hands on my knees. “Well, Pig, I’m gonna change your name to Bipolar. One second you want me to


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pay attention to you and the next minute you act like you want to kill me.” Pig crept closer. He was halfway in my doorway now. He turned and lay in the entrance, almost as if he was on guard over my room. What was he protecting me from? The cat? Pig turned his head sideways and sort of nodded. I chuckled. First Alex can read minds and now the dog. I must be really tired. I looked up at the tiny shelf next to the bed. There were black and white photos inside beautiful handcrafted frames. The kids in the pictures looked just like Ally and Alex. Maybe the fair came here and did those old fashioned photos? If I were crazy I would say they were authentic from maybe the 1920’s. Maybe it was their great-greatgrandparents or something. That sort of stuff happened all the time; right? Nearly twins several generations later… I needed to brush my teeth but the

Bipolar Pig would not let me leave the room. He growled when I tried to step over him. So, I just went to bed. What was the point in getting bit? I probably forgot to bring a toothbrush anyhow. Maybe in the morning I could meet Aunt Millie and she would at least take me to the store to get the necessities. I sure wish I hadn’t left all my things behind. What was I thinking? WANT TO READ MORE? e-book * Barnes & Noble * Amazon * Books-AMillion

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DREW TUCKER AND THE ARTS GARAGE

Jubilee at the Arts Garage is intended to

by ARTS GARAGE “ABOUT US”

On October 22, 2009 the CRA Board

reveal the venue as the incoming home of jazz in South Florida.

approved an amendment to the CRA Plan the City’s distinctive national brand and to creating a learning community through the implementation of the Creative City Collaborative plan adopted by the City Commission of Delray Beach. In November of 2010, The Delray Beach CRA decided to utilize the storefront space located at the lower level of Old School Square Parking Garage to host cultural and arts activities in the space. Alyona Ushe, the Executive Director of Creative City Collaborative, as a CRA

that included an arts related economic development program. The amendment was subsequently adopted by the City Commission on December 1, 2009. The program noted the importance of the arts as an effective strategy for increasing activity in the downtown area.

The

amendment states “The CRA should play a role in supporting and promoting Delray

Beach

as

a

thriving

arts

community, in order to sustain economic vitality and improve the quality of life within the district.”

Included in the

employee was tasked to work

About Arts Garage Arts Garage is a multi-disciplinary cultural hub for visual artists, musicians, performers, film presenters and arts educators.

with

the

Creative

Collaborative

to

City

organize

activities in the space that has been named “Arts Garage.” These

activities

include

performances, film, concerts, workshops,

and

multi-

disciplinary classes. In addition, programming

at

the Arts

Garage is being used as a

The Story

testing ground for activities envisioned

Creative City Collaborative is dedicated to infusing arts and culture into the Delray Beach Community by presenting live and musical performances, and foreign and documentary films, and providing

creative

classes

and

workshops. Founded in 2006 to build the cultural infrastructure that celebrates the City of Delray Beach as a creative, authentic, and intimate City, Creative City Collaborative is supporting the Delray’s cultural growth; strengthening

in

Warehouse

the

CRA’s

project,

while

building awareness in the community of the City’s Cultural efforts. Since then, the Arts Garage has evolved into a multi-disciplinary cultural hub for visual artists, musicians, performers, film presenters mission

and of

arts

educators.

the Arts

Garage is

The to

collaborate with emerging artists and cultural

innovators

to

facilitate

an

exchange of art and ideas and to present cutting-edge, performances

interdisciplinary and

exhibitions.

Jazz

means of achieving this objective are the following: - Implement programs and initiatives to establish Delray Beach as an artistfriendly city and as a desirable location for

galleries,

studios,

and

artists’

residences. - Develop strategies and programs to protect existing arts spaces and create long-term locations

affordable may

space.

include

Such

City-owned


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

25

commercial space or other buildings that are purchased or leased by the City, CRA, or nonprofit organizations for the purpose of providing affordable artsrelated venues.

ROY HUFF – BEST-SELLING AUTHOR by AMAZON BIOGRAPHY

In February 2010, the CRA purchased a 15,007 square foot warehouse located in

ROY HUFF – AUTHOR OF FANTASY

the Pineapple Grove Arts District. The interior of the warehouse is primarily open space, and about half of the floor space

has

a

ceiling

height

of

approximately 28 feet. Approximately 1,600 square feet of outdoor space is available in the rear of the building. As envisioned, the arts center or arts incubator, currently referred to as the “Warehouse”, could include galleries, studio space, multi-discipline performing venue (black-box theater), educational space, etc. The Warehouse may include visual arts, theater, dance, and film. In March 2010, the CRA approached the Creative City Collaborative (CCC), a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization founded in 2006, to oversee the development of the project, determine the potential uses and

operating

structures,

identify

programs that maximize the facility’s economic

impact

on

the

area,

and manage the warehouse once the build out is complete.

THE BOOK Owen Sage is the emblematic college freshman at Easton Falls University. With all the worries about his first year in college, he was not prepared for what would happen next. His way of life was flipped upside down when he mysteriously crossed into another dimension, into the beautiful land of Everville. His excitement was abruptly halted when he discovered that there was a darkness forged against both the natural world, which he knew well, and the new land which he discovered, Everville. He must devise a plan to save both worlds while joining forces with the race of Fron and The Keepers, whom both harbor hidden secrets he must learn in order to gain power over the evil that dwells in The Other In Between. With a race against time to save both worlds, his short time at Easton Falls did not quite prepare him for the evil, dark forces he must fight in order to conquer The Other In Between.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Roy Huff is the author of Amazon Kindle's bestselling #2 epic fantasy and #3 young adult teen fantasy novel, Everville: The First Pillar. This is the first installment in the remarkable Everville series which combines elements of epic fantasy and young adult

fiction in a form that nearly anyone will enjoy reading, young or old. He is a man of many interests including but not limited to science, traveling, movies, the outdoors, and of course writing teen and young adult fantasy fiction. He holds five degrees in four separate disciplines including liberal arts, history, secondary science education, and geoscience. Roy Huff's background includes work in art, history, education, business, real-estate, economics, geoscience, and satellite meteorology. He was born on the East Coast but has spent more than half his life in Hawaii, where he currently resides and writes his epic fantasy sagas.


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TH

LARK’S END AVAILABLE JUNE 25 ! FUTURE Several children and animals sit in cramped cages. To Father, they are merely test subjects, but to Mary they’re her family and friends.

MARY “Mary,” Alex whispered. He sat in the cell next to hers. “What’re ya reading?” She didn’t respond. Her eyes stayed glued to the pages of The Wizard of Oz. She inched forward, reading each word with passion and excitement. Her skin was pale and her eyes a light blue, unlike the eyes of her brothers and sisters. Everyone else had glowing green eyes. Maybe from the chemicals their father injected into them, maybe from the changes their bodies were experiencing. She liked the fact that her eyes were normal. It meant she was safe from father. He didn’t experiment on her as much. She was a dud according to him; unchangeable. “Mary,” Alex said again. “Read to me please. I’m scared. Father says today is gonna be my day. He says he’s going to really change me this time.” She looked up. Alex was a few years older, maybe ten with sandy brown hair. His eyes used to be brown as mud but that was before father took him into the back room.

“I’ll read to you,” Mary said, turning the pages back to the beginning. “How is it I know how to read and you don’t?” “I never went to school for very long,” he answered. “I’ve never gone to school.” “Well, I remember some words, like that sign up above the door it says ‘exit’. That’s what I’d like to do. Escape through the exit.” “Do you want to escape with me, Alex?” “Mary, if I could get out of here then I’d never come back, never ever.” “Who would I play with then?” She frowned. “I hope you never escape.” “That’s selfish.” “I don’t care.” “Just read something to me, Mary.” “What if we both were able to escape?” She leaned her forehead against the bars, intertwining her fingers with the metal. “Would you stay with me forever, then?” “I dunno.” Alex yawned. “I want to hear something, to keep my mind off what father has planned for me. Tell me about that world of yours.” “The only way to get into Gadaie is across the golden bridge.” She closed her eyes. “You have to swim through Merworld where the merloonies live.” “The what?” Alex scratched his head. “What’s a merloonie?” “Remember that Peter Pan book I read you, the one with the mermaids?” Mary grinned. “Well, the Merloonies are similar to those

mermaids. They’re half fish half loonie.” “What’s a loonie?” “My very own people, or subjects, I guess. They love me and will do anything I ask of them. I love them, too.” “So now you’re a queen?” Alex laughed. “Oh Mary, you’ve got some imagination.” “I wish they were real,” Mary admitted. She lay down on the cement bench. It cooled her cheek. He patted her on the shoulder through the bars. “I wish it was real, too. Then I would run away with you and I’d live in that Funhouse Zone you told me about.” Mary sat up. “Would you live in one of my mushroom homes?” “Sure, why not?” Alex grinned. “I think taking a rollercoaster to each home is kinda a cool way to get around.” “I know!” Mary giggled, “And last week I decided there should be a place called Candy Lane like that game they advertised in the back of The Neverending Story.” “I wish Father would let us play games.” He sighed. “That would help pass the time.” “I like reading.” “Well, I guess if I knew how, I would read, too.” “I don’t think father would let you read. He says he has plans for you.” Alex walked away to the other end of his cell. “I don’t want to talk about what Father has planned for me.” “Stop all the noise.” Lily growled. She sat in a rusted cage across the aisle between two wolves and an orangutan. Aquariums filled with mice ran on wheels up above Lily’s head. She brushed her hands through her


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blonde hair. “Mary, go to sleep. Put those silly books down and stop dreaming. Life’s not a fairytale.” “Okay, Mother.” Mary lay back and stared at the grey wall. Water seeped through a tiny crack. It dripped down, splattering against her forehead. How could anything, even water, want to enter this place? “Mom,” she said. “Did you love him?” Lily hid her face in between her knees. “No.” Who would? “Nor did I love her.” Father stomped into the lab, his white cloak flapping. “You were supposed to be my prodigy. But Mary, you’re just a dud; a useless financial expense to me. If you don’t produce results soon, I’ll have to eliminate you.” Mary’s heart pounded. Would he really kill her; his own flesh and blood? Lily jumped, stretching her hands outside the bars. “I’ll kill you if you try to hurt my daughter!” “You could never hurt me. I’m your father—your creator.” “I’d love to kill you.” Lily growled. “It would make me very happy.” Father stood in front of Lily’s cell with his hands on his hips. “That’s the spirit. The angrier you become the more you change. I can’t wait to see the final results.” “Leave her alone!” Mary screamed. “I hate you!” Her small face smashed against the bars and her fingers gripped firmly around them. “Relax child.” Father rolled his eyes. “Alex is who I’m working on today.” He unlocked the cell and grabbed the boy by the arm.

“No, I don’t want to go!” Alex cried. “Let me go. Stop. Lily, make him stop.” Lily covered her face and sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Alex.” What could she do? She was trapped in a cell like everyone else. “Mom.” Mary’s lip quivered. “Why don’t you stop father? You’re the oldest.” “I’m only eighteen.” Lily rocked back and forth. Every time father experimented on one of them, she was who they called to for help. Was it her fault? “No!” Mary wiped her eyes. She watched Father drag Alex away into the dark. The other children cried, too. A dozen of them begged Father to release Alex. Father set the young boy on a metal table. He held him down with leather hand and leg cuffs. “Father, please!” Alex jerked about. “It hurts, the changes always hurt.” He held a long needle in his hand. Father flicked the instrument and a light green liquid seeped out. Alex thrashed about, his heart pounding. “No!” Father jabbed the needle into Alex’s ten year old hip. “This batch will work. Alex, you will be amazing!” “Let him go!” “Father, please!” “Alex is the perfect test subject. His DNA is easy to alter. He adapts best to changes. He’s nearly perfect in every way.” Father frowned when his eyes set on Lily. “Lily, I always thought so much of you. But, that child you gave me is not working out. I’m afraid I’ll have to trash her.” “You will not!” Lily twitched. Her body convulsed. She stood on

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her knees and rested against her palms. What was happening to her? “What’s happening to my mom?” Mary cried. She recoiled into the corner of her cell. Lily’s skin ripped. Long legs protruded out of her hip bone and shoulders. A thorax burst its way through her back. She screamed. “What’s happening to me?” Mary covered her ears. “MOMMY!” She rocked back and forth. “Mom, not my mom. Don’t die, don’t die.” “It’s happening!” Father exclaimed. He hurried over to Lily’s cage. “The experiment worked. My girl is changing! They thought I was mad. MAD! But, I knew all along that I could do it. If this one works then all of my experiments will work.” He turned into Mary’s direction and pointed at the little girl. “That means you get to live.”

FUTURE People of the future believe in a green world. They live in homes made of recycled materials and rarely use handwritten documents. Money is completely electronic and hospitals are highly advanced. Most cars and cities are green and take full advantage of technology. That is, except for dinosaurs like Peg and David…


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MANY, MANY YEARS LATER ON EARTH “Well,” Charles tapped on the door. “What’s the verdict?” He was young and scrawny. His hair was dark and stuck up sometimes. His eyes were gentle and his hands soft. That was because he chose to go to college to be a banker instead of follow in his Father’s footsteps. His dad had been a farmer; a poor, overworked farmer. He ran far away from that life. Who wanted to fix mechanical mules and watch heat sensors for pests? Not him. Charles was just nineteen and a bank teller right now—he still had another two years of school left; it was far better than that sort of life. Donna sat on the toilet seat in the bathroom. She took the pregnancy scanner and watched the LED light move up and down her stomach. They’d been trying for months. Her light brown hair fell around her tiny face. She was two years older than her husband. She’d started college late. Ever since her parents died, she’d spent her time raising her sister. But, six months ago Maya ran off, Donna didn’t know what to do with herself at first. And, finding a kind husband like Charles who

welcomed a teenager so easily was difficult. Did Maya dislike her life? Donna could’ve sworn her sister and husband got along fine. But today, Maya wasn’t what bothered her most. It was the results on her pregnancy scanner. Results: non-fertilized; that’s what it said. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. Not again. She wanted a child; just one. She’d dreamed her whole life about having a daughter who she could dress up in fancy clothes, enter into beauty pageants, and wouldn’t it be grand to teach her the family’s secret recipes. Oh, how she wished she could’ve passed those on to her sister, too. But the officer said it wasn’t likely they’d ever see Maya again. She was gone. Her sixteen year old sister was probably dead. And Donna could not get pregnant. “Donna, my dear, please tell me.” Charles rested his head against the wooden door. He’d do anything for a child. Having Maya in his life made him happy. He’d never thought about having kids at first. He was glad Donna had a sister. He figured she’d be content with just him when Maya went off to college. After all, as silly as it may sound, when he’d married last year what he really wanted was rims for his car, but now he yearned for a daughter of his own. “No.” “No, as in no you’re not pregnant?” Charles swallowed. A tear trickled down his cheek. “We’ll just try again.” “No!” Donna sobbed. She tossed the pregnancy scanner against the wall. “Malfunction,” the device slurred. “Shut up!” She kicked it. The scanner broke. Pieces of metal

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scattered on the tile floor. Charles unlocked the door, grabbed his tiny wife, and held her in his arms as tight as he could. “I’m tired, Charles.” “Have a little faith, my Donna, and things will work out,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. “We’re good people and good things will come to us soon.” “How can you know that?” She buried her face in his shirt. “Nothing but pain and loss comes my way. First my parents, then my sister and now I can’t get pregnant. I’ll never be a mother!” Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. “Who could that be?” Charles climbed to his feet. “Don’t they know it’s rude to hit the bell that many times?” “I’m coming with you,” Donna said. She welcomed the break. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about how she couldn’t have a baby. They hurried down the carpeted steps. Ding. “Just a second,” Charles called. “Almost there.” He unlocked the door. David, his next door neighbor, was sweating profusely and his red hair stuck to his forehead. “MMy wife, she’s having the baby,” he stammered. “I’m going to be a Father!” Charles bit his lip. “Congratulations.” He didn’t mean it. At least not at the moment. His wife just finished crying in the bathroom about being barren. In a way, he envied David. His dad owned a construction company and paid him pretty well—no college loans for him to pay off— then he married his childhood sweetheart and now he was going


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

to have a child. A child; something Charles and Donna couldn’t seem to have. David dragged Charles out of the house and across the lawn. “I need your help. Come—come with me to the hospital; you can video tape the birth of my daughter!” “I can’t do that,” Charles said, resisting with all his might. But David was a construction worker and barely flinched. Donna wiped the tears from her eyes. She stood in the doorway with her flat belly. “Just go, Charles.” “Donna, I don’t need to go, really. It’s probably not a good idea for you to be alone.” “Go!” Donna shouted. “I’ll be fine.” “Okay, but I’ll hurry back,” Charles said. He climbed into the back of the car. His friend sat down in the driver’s seat and fumbled with the keys. He dropped them onto the floor and scrambled about. “I can’t find the keys!” “You should join the twentythird century. My car doesn’t need keys—or me.” “The baby will be born in the street if I don’t get it together.” “David, aren’t you missing something?” “What do you mean?” David looked around. “My wife; I forgot my wife!” “David!” A tall woman with freckles all over her face and neck stood on the stoop. “Coming, Peg.” He hit his knees on the dash. “Don’t pick that suitcase up. I’ll get it for you.” He bent down missing the handle. “Just get in the car,” Peg groaned. “I can carry a bag. I’ve

been lugging this thing around for months. What’s a few more pounds gonna do?” “It’s a baby, not a thing.” “Don’t correct me right now.” “Let me help you in the car.” David’s wife, Peg, sat up front breathing awfully loud. He closed her door and raced around the car. Peg looked in the rearview mirror. “Hello, Charles,” she said in between breaths. David got in the driver’s seat and slammed his door shut. “Peg, my love, Charles is going to film the birth of our daughter, isn’t that nice?” “Why? Because the big bad construction worker is gonna faint?” Peg yelled. “He passed out when he saw the sonogram. Can you believe that? Huh, Charles?” “I think you should concentrate on breathing,” Charles said. “Yes, you’re right,” Peg said, wincing from the pain. “David, DRIVE!” Her husband smashed the pedal as hard as he could. The old car jumped. Several “overload” warnings flashed on the control panel. Warning, speed exceeds local limits. Warning. “David.” Charles clasped his hands together. Was he having birth pangs, too? “Sorry, Charles but I’ve got to get my wife to the hospital! Initiate manual override. Computer, that means shut up!” He commanded, barreling down the normally quiet street at 80 miles per hour.

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DONNA Good things never happened to her. Donna sat in her dining room alone. Sure, she’d told Charles to go with David to the hospital, but now she wished she hadn’t. Dangerous thoughts crept into her heart. Like, what had she done to deserve such a horrible life? She never got to go to prom—that was the night her parents crashed. She’d been standing in her room in front of the mirror twirling around in her new dress, waiting for her date to come. *** She wore a red sequined dress with strappy heels and red lipstick. Donna couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked and that she was actually going with the quarterback! “Donna?” Someone tapped on her bedroom door. Was it her date already? “Yes?” The door creaked open and a police officer entered. “Donna Baker? Are you in here?” “Yes, Officer Pete. Have you come to have a cup of coffee with my father? He’s usually brewing a pot about now.” “I’m sorry, that’s not why I’m here. There’s been a crash and your parents are in the emergency room.” Donna’s mouth opened and she could hardly breathe. They were just home minutes before taking pictures of her in her prom dress! “How?”


A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE …TALENT FOUND ALONG THE WAY | Issue 5

“They were on their way back from picking your sister up from school and a car sideswiped them.” “It’s so late—why was Maya still at school?” “I don’t know.” The police man frowned. “I’m really sorry.” Donna sat on the edge of her bed. Her skin itched and her eyes watered. Why was there something stuck in the center of her throat? “Was Maya in the car with them?” “Yes,” the officer whispered. “We need to take you to the hospital.” “Okay, let me change.” She wiped the mascara that ran down her cheeks, “and tell my date that I have to cancel.” READ MORE HERE

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THANKS FOR YOUR PATIENCE AS EMBER AND I DEALT WITH OUR PERSONAL PROBLEMS THESE PAST FEW MONTHS! JUST THOUGHT YOU’D ALL LIKE TO KNOW THAT ELVIRA HAS TAKEN TO THE “TRUCKING LIFE!” CHECK HER OUT, SLEEPING ON THE DANCEBOARD!!

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A HOME FOR THE CREATIVE ISSUE 5  

Author Christina Leigh Pritchard and her sister Ember Pritchard collect information on talented folks they find along the way.

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