TRAILSBy John Watts

Edited by Dr. Nicole Santalucia

2016

Trails© 2016 John Watts

First Printing: 2016

Cover art by John WattsCover text set in Century Gothic

Body text set in Times

Short stories and poems previously appeared in my head, and then roughly translated onto paper. I tried.

Want to read more work by John Watts? Follow him on Twitter at www.twitter.com/IAm-JohnWatts. He has nothing interesting to say on there either.

Limited to ____ copies

This ____ of ____.

To my family-

Sorry if there’s any swearing in here.

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Table of Contents

Forward by Dr. Nicole Santalucia.............................................................6

Trails..........................................................................................................9

Shadows..................................................................................................11

Late Night Television..............................................................................12

Heart of Darkness....................................................................................13

World’s Most Powerful People................................................................15

America Is...............................................................................................16

Idle Thought While Staring out my Window at Night During a Snow Storm.................................................17

Idle Thought While Procrastinating.........................................................18

Idle Thought While Standing Outside in the Rain..................................19

Idle Thought While Looking at the Ocean at Tom’s Cove on Assateague Island............................................20

Idle Thought While Standing Atop the Hill at my Grandparent’s Farm................................................21

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East and West..........................................................................................23

Breakfast at the Diner..............................................................................31

This Town Ain’t Big Enough For The Both Of Us, Baby.......................39

Billy the Creator.......................................................................................48

Community Ordnance #2007-36.............................................................49

On the train home....................................................................................50

Acknowledgments...................................................................................52

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John Watts’ Trails travels through “the endless wilderness of thorny language” as it makes its way to “a smaller trail, / Not a road less taken, but a road unknown.”

The closing lines of the title poem read, “I can build something new, using only / Words for wood, and stanzas for stone.” The acts of building and traveling are what constitute the skillful use of language in this collection of poetry and prose. Watts contemplates what poetry is, what love is, what art is, what America is. The title poem is a beautiful performance that deserves an encore and that’s what the rest of this collection does, it performs act after act after act.

Watts’ work is in direct conversation with poets such as Robert Frost, Walt Whitman, and William Wordsworth, all who have echoed RQH�DQRWKHU�LQ�WKHLU�GHÀQLWLRQV�RI�SRHWU\�The discovery within this collection is responsorial to the currency of American culture.

We get glimpses of the beaten path, we literally get to taste what “America Is,” and later in the collection we meet characters such as Loraine and Hugo in a story entitled “This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us, Baby” who follow the winding roads of love and life.

The poems and prose in this collection access the nooks and crannies of relationships, art, America, and they discover. As a whole, Trails translates “what gets lost in translation” (Robert Frost). For Watts what is lost is also what is discovered.

William Wordsworth’s claim that “poetry is the spontaneous RYHUÁRZ�RI�SRZHUIXO�IHHOLQJV��LW�WDNHV�LWV�RULJLQ�IURP�HPRWLRQ�recollected in tranquility.” This is lodged in the lives of Watts’ stories and poems and we are gently invited to participate as both witness and traveler. This body of work reminds us that we are human, that we are not separate from nature or one another and that art is an experience and a conversation that is not restricted by time and space.

FORWARDBy Dr. Nicole Santalucia

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The process of art, according to the Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley, "strips the veil of familiarity from the world, and lays bare the naked and sleeping beauty." The beauty is fully awake in this collection DV�LW�XQYHLOV�ZLVGRP��7KH�FRUUHFW�GHÀQLWLRQ�RI�DUW�DQG�SRHWU\�GRHV�QRW�exist and this is a problem that remains unsolved, a problem that great writers attempt to navigate. Watts shows us what it means to gracefully navigate the paths of meaning, line by line and verse by verse.

I have had the great honor of witnessing John Watts’ growth and inspiration and you will to as you journey through Trails.

Dr. Nicole Santalucia (2016)

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9

Trails

I’m creating bleak and repetitiveFalsehoods under the pretense of art.The mountains, the sky, the sun, the forestsAll call to me in chirps and whistles,But then I have to stop when I realizeThat the trail I’m following is well-worn.It’s all familiar territory to the reader:Millions have gone into the woods, Hoping to live their lives deliberately,Hearing the same wild call as I.

What can man create that will last?Better yet: what can I create that will last?That will reach into their hearts and make Them beat in a way they never did before? We’ve all seen the long raging rivers,And felt their icy waters on our skin.The sunlight has touched our faces In thousands of stanzas before mine,And I’m left to trudge through crowds of poets,Walking fraudulently on the trail.

But then there are days when the crowds thin,$QG�,�ÀQG�P\VHOI�LQ�FOHDULQJV�DPLGVWFallen branches and shafts of warm light.For a moment, I can pick up a leaf, and see it,I can see its beginning, middle, and inevitable end, )URP�QHZERUQ�EXG�WR�PXPPLÀHG�GHWULWXV�$P�,�VHHLQJ�WKH�OHDI�IRU�WKH�ÀUVW�WLPH�DV�QR�RQH�HOVH�KDV"Or did it hang over Wordsworth as he composedA few lines over Tintern Abbey by the Wye?Did it once rest with the other leaves of grass?

One day, I’ll come upon a smaller trail, Not a road less taken, but a road unknown,Hidden by black brambles and shifting shadows.0D\EH�ZKHQ�,�ÀQG�LW�,�FDQ�EHDU�WKH�WRROV�RI�FLYLOL]DWLRQ�7KH�SHQ��WKH�SDSHU��WKH�D[H��WKH�ÁLQW�DQG�VWHHO��

10

And carve out my own passage with words and vigor.And in a clearing of my own creation, In the endless wilderness of thorny language,I can build something new, using only Words for wood, and stanzas for stone.

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Shadows

Since we cracked rocks together to make a faint spark, Chasing the shadows up the slick cave walls,We’ve lived in fear of what hides in the dark and the crevices.When we had nothing but wax candlesticks and a fear of dyingFrom diseases and war and famine to accompany us in the night, We retroactively called it the Dark Ages and shut our eyes,Hoping all the while that the redcaps and draugr and vodyanoiThat we knew lived in the dark with us wouldn’t bite.

Then came the great illuminators of Edison and Tesla, And they chased away the darkness and killed the creaturesThat we thought stalked after us in the night. :KHQ�WKH�OLJKWV�WXUQHG�RQ�ZH�ZHUH�VXUSULVHG�WR�ÀQG�WKDW�ZH�ZHUH�DORQH�And when I look at the shadows at the top of my stairs, I know that hiding in the darkness upstairs is either nothing, Or human.

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Late Night Television

/RQHOLQHVV�EUHHGV�LQ�WKH�JDUGHQV�RI�1HWÁL[��A vast red arboretum of movies and shows,But with nothing really weeded outOf its extensive and exhaustive herbarium.

,W·V�LQ�WKLV�JDUGHQ�ZKHUH�,�ÀQG�TXLHW�KRXUV�:KHUH�,�ÀQG�WKDW�WKH�FUHDWRU�RI Weeds:KHUH�,�ÀQG�WKDW�WKH�FUHDWRU�RI Weeds:KHUH�,�ÀQG�WKDW�WKH�FUHDWRU�RI has Made orange twinspurs the new black petunias.$OO�EHDXWLIXO�EXW�VWUDQJH�ÁRZHUV�

The garden paths are as wide as a living room,Or as narrow as a worn couch or springy twin bed.Each of us plants our own garden with different things,And with each season—

Are you still watching “Breaking Bad”?

Continue WatchingBack

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Heart of Darkness

It’s news to meThat Hitler survived The invasion of Berlin.And yet it seems feasibleThat evil is disinclined to die.

+RZ�ÀWWLQJ�WKDW�KH�FKRVH�WR�ÁHHTo the jungles of Argentina to rebuild.The forest is the tumult in the Führer’s heart;,�FDQ�VHH�KLP�G\LQJ�QRW�RI�D�VHOI�LQÁLFWHG�EXOOHW��But malaria, while crying “The Horror! The Horror!”

The universe is unjust if it let a destroyer of life like himDie in a place as abundant with it as the jungles of Argentina

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The World’s Most Powerful People

The secrets everyone who Works In marketing will never reveal areMarredBy one graphic three-minute scene.Thirsty concrete is more than she Expected.

The horrifying reason one woman HeardA scratching sound shows who is Fighting Whom in Syria. Undercover Israeli Soldiers have time for an Intervention.

And the world’s most powerful people $UH�D�ÁRDWLQJ�ÀUH�DQW�UDIW�LQ6RXWK�&DUROLQD�ÁRRGV�

15

America Is

America is a melting pot.Actually, it’s more like a pizza,Topped with pepperoni and mushroomsAnd olives and anchovies And curry and borsht And spätzle and chana masalaAnd chakalaka and shepherd’s pieAnd vegemite and bulgogi bibimbapAnd masala dosa and matzo ballsAnd grits and enchiladas And shawerma and callaloo.All this piled atop a pizza.It’s delicious and terrible,But it’s our pizza.

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I’ll Be Seeing You Again (In The Summer Fields)

Leather gloves worn through to skinOld leather gloves worn straight on throughNothing to show for my labors But I’ll keep working for you.

After the long day’s work,Whatever it all may yield,I’ll be seeing you again,Q�WKH�VXPPHU�ÀHOGV�

:H�ÀUVW�NLVVHG�XQGHU�VXPPHU�WUHHV�:H�VKDUHG�WKDW�ÀUVW�NLVV�XQGHU�D�WUHH��I only had eyes for you,And you only for me.

After the long day’s work,Whatever it all may yield,I’ll be seeing you again,Q�WKH�VXPPHU�ÀHOGV�

Now I’m old and bent from workI’m gray and old from endless toil.But in all those years, I don’t regretAll that time we worked the soil.

After the long day’s work,Whatever it all may yield,I’ll be seeing you again,Q�WKH�VXPPHU�ÀHOGV�

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Idle Thought While Staring out my Window at Night During a Snow-storm

7KH�FUDVKLQJ�VQRZÁDNHVEngulf everything outside,Lighting up the night. I could walk into the stormAnd fade into the darkness.

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Idle Thought While Procrastinating

I don’t want to workOn Sisyphean laborsThat do me no good. Why waste time on meaninglessAnd linear progression?

19

Idle Thought While Standing Outside in the Rain

Those who are soaked throughTo their bones by the endlessRain always forget About the sheer happiness2I�ÀQDOO\�EHLQJ�GU\�

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Idle Thought While Looking at the Ocean at Tom’s Cove on Assateague Island

Under the blue waves, Down thousands of leagues belowDwell nightmare monsters.Their glowing eyes and bodiesAre not unlike our bodies

21

Idle Thought While Standing Atop the Hill at my Grandparents’ Farm

The wide green pastures Are a new Elysium.Like heroes of old,I am quite sure he dwells here, Watching the sheep out grazing.

22

7DP�/LQ�WKH�(OÀQ�.QLJKW

Dear Janet tried to save Tam Lin, The father of her child. By holding tightly onto himAs he changed to all beasts wild. At last he turned into a burning coal,Hotter than all of Hell, And as instructed she threw the coal,Into the nearby well.7KH�(OÀQ�4XHHQ�UDJHG�DQG�VZRUHAt what young Janet had done. But when Tam emerged a man,Janet knew that she had won.

Janet tried to save Tomlin, Progenitor of her spawn, Product of unholy sex Upon the Catermaugh lawn. He changed to beasts on Hallowe’en,As she held him in her hands, Into the well he went when he became$�FRDO�ÀHU\�DV�GHVHUW�VDQGV��When he emerged, a full-grown man, The crowd burned him and Janet at the stake,For all know that a witch’s lifeIs forfeit for the law to take.

But then there’s wily Tam-A-Line, 'HÀOHU�RI�YLUJLQ�JLUOV��Who accosts them in Catermaugh Woods. The most insolent of churls. <RXQJ�0DUJDUHW�SLFNHG�D�VLQJOH�ÁRZHUFrom a garden Tam-A-Line had claimed, And in response he lost repose, And left her ravaged, bruised, and maimed. Margaret ran to her village home,And told what Tam-A-Line had done.That night the townsfolk combed the woods,Armed with pitchfork, torch, and gun.

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East and West

“… like valour’s minion carved out his passage till he faced the slave; which ne’er shook hands, nor bade fare…”

“What the hell are you readin’ in there, boy?” “It’s Shakespeare, Pa. Macbeth. One of the Bouldersons gave it

to me. Tryin’ to learn one of the longer bits.” “Well, put it down and get ready for supper. Your mother and I

have somethin’ to discuss with you.” Henry looked up from his book, gray eyes staring intently

WKURXJK�WKH�FDQYDV�WHQW�ÁDS��+H�FRXOG�KHDU�KLV�IDWKHU�ZDONLQJ�RQ�WKH�dry, crunchy grass outside, and he felt a knot growing in his stomach. Ever since his family had set up camp here with the rest of the migrant workers, Henry had felt uneasy. Everyone said times were tough. The newspapers they found thrown out said that times were tough. The farmers were packing up their families and trying to get out while they still could, muttering “Times are tough” under their breath. Times had been tough for several years now, what seemed like forever to Henry, and they showed no sign of getting better.

He pushed himself up from his well-worn blanket, and checked KLPVHOI�LQ�WKH�SLHFH�RI�UHÁHFWLYH�JODVV�WKDW�KDG�RQFH�EHHQ�SDUW�RI�Grandma Josephine’s mirror, broken when the brawl had started in the last camp they had stayed in. His dark brown hair was getting too long for his taste, and a few errant whiskers were forming on his face. He frowned at his appearance, quietly lamenting the loss of the razor back in Iowa. He had hoped to look nice, in case Florence Boulderson would walk by, but he dismissed the thought. He stuffed his bookmark, a small ÁLHU�IRU�D�WDONLH�WKDW�KDG�EHHQ�LQ�D�WKHDWHU�D�ZKLOH�EDFN��LQWR�WKH�ERRN��and hid it in the folds of his blanket. There would be time to practice the lines later.

:KHQ�KH�PDGH�KLV�ZD\�WR�WKH�ÀUH�SLW��KLV�PRWKHU�DQG�IDWKHU�were already sitting, eating the thin cabbage soup out of tin bowls they had scavenged. His mother had a look of worry in her dirt and sweat-streaked face, and his fathers eyes were narrowed angrily, his mustache quivering slightly as he ate. The three ate in silence for several minutes, as children from other families in the camp were running around, VFUHDPLQJ�DQG�\HOOLQJ��6RPH�RI�WKH�PHQ�ZHUH�À[LQJ�VRPH�WRROV�ZKLOH�women were hanging laundry to air out. The drought had made water GLIÀFXOW�WR�FRPH�E\�DQG�PDLQWDLQ��DQG�WKH�JHQHUDO�UXOH�WROG�WR�DOO�PLJUDQW�workers in the camp was to only use it sparingly for drinking and

24

cooking. Even then, people received glares from their neighbors. )LQLVKLQJ�WKH�VRXS�LQ�KLV�ERZO��+HQU\·V�IDWKHU�ÀQDOO\�VSRNH��´:H�

need to talk.” “About what?” Henry said through a mouthful of soup. “I found you a job.” Henry swallowed hard and stared at his father. “Doing what?” His father reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a

notice. “Says here that a new coal mine opened up in Pennsylvania. Northumberland County. They’re looking for young folks to work it. I can barely do this farming shit anymore, let alone work a coal mine. You could do it, though. You might be able to earn a little money. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

Henry just stared at the notice. “I don’t know if I want to do this.”

His father glared. “Don’t be a damned fool. Your mother and I have talked this over. It’s the best option you have. You don’t know the ÀUVW�WKLQJ�DERXW�ZRUNLQJ�WKH�VRLO��<RX·UH�ZHOO�ROG�HQRXJK�WR�EH�GRLQJ�some kind of work. If I’d had my way…”

´+HQU\�µ�KLV�PRWKHU�ÀQDOO\�VSRNH��´ZKDW�KH·V�WU\LQJ�WR�VD\�LV�that this is a golden opportunity. I know this might not be what you want to do, but things are tough right now. They won’t always be that way, though. Just try it for a year or two. Maybe by then there’ll be a little more money to be made, and you’ll have better prospects. Please do this for us? We wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t in your best interests.”

+HQU\�VWDUHG�LQWR�WKH�ÀUH�SLW��ZDWFKLQJ�WKH�RUDQJH�ÁDPHV�OLFN�WKH�side of the iron pot. “When will I leave?”

“There’s two trucks of workers leaving tomorrow morning. The one you want will be going to Virginia, and you can make your way from there to Pennsylvania.”

“Where’s the other one going?”“California.” Henry felt the word settle into his mind. California. He thought

of the talkies, and the big studios that were there, in Los Angeles. His mind ran wild with possibilities. Perhaps there were theaters, he thought. Shakespeare could be performed in them. Perhaps he could try to be in a movie, working with someone like Mae West. He closed his eyes as he imagined the signs outside a theater, with his name and picture on all of WKHP��DGYHUWLVLQJ�LQ�JDULVK�FRORUV�WKH�ODWHVW�ÀOP��+H�KDG�RQO\�EHHQ�WR�D�PRYLH�RQFH��EHIRUH�WKH�VWRFN�PDUNHW�FUDVKHG�DQG�WKH�ÀHOGV�KDG�WXUQHG�WR�dust, when his father had owned a small hardware store that had become

25

a casualty of the crash. His father paid the ten cents to take him to the theater, and he had sat enthralled as second by black-and-white second unfolded on the massive screen before him. The action and the romance RI�LW�DOO�KDG�VXQN�LWV�WDORQV�GHHS�LQWR�KLV�PLQG��+H�KDG�NHSW�D�ÁLHU�RI�WKH�ÀOP��DQG�LW�ZDV�FXUUHQWO\�PDUNLQJ�KLV�SDJH�LQ�0DFEHWK��

“Henry?” His mother’s words shook him from his reverie. “Hmm?”“Did you just hear what I said?”“No,” he mumbled, “I didn’t.” “You’ll be sure to get on the truck to Virginia, tomorrow, right?

It’s the best possible opportunity right now.” “Yeah, I’ll be on the truck.” Even as he spoke the words, he was

unsure if he meant them. His father nodded approvingly, “Good. Get your things ready

tonight so you’re not rushing in the morning. I don’t know if…” His words trailed off. They all knew without saying it that it was unlikely that they would see each other again. His father’s head slumped forward, and he stared at his worn leather boots for some time.

Henry got up and dusted his pants off. “I’m gonna go take a walk. I won’t go far.” His father looked up, but their eyes did not meet. +HQU\�ZDONHG�SDVW�VHYHUDO�WHQWV�DQG�D�WUDLOHU��DOO�ÀOOHG�WR�EXUVWLQJ�ZLWK�other families. Some of them were migrant workers, displaced when they lost everything after the stock market crash, and forced to travel to farms all over the country. Others were new: farmers who lost hundreds upon hundreds of acres of crops when the drought tightened its grip on their roots. They all looked the same. They were all gaunt, their clothes were frayed, patched, and dirty, and the faces of the men were poorly shaven or not at all. Their poverty was written into their eyes, downcast and dark, as if desperation had anchored the bloodshot and dust-caked orbs towards the ground in defeat. Even the children, when not playing with whatever sticks and rocks were available, had grim countenances.

Henry sauntered through the camp, coming to the trailer of the Clifton family. The eldest son, Bud, was sitting on the dirt, leaning against the trailer, smoking a hand-rolled cigarette and staring through the smoke into space, like he always did. “Hey Bud. Whatcha doing?”

“Sitting in a shithole waiting to die. You?” Henry couldn’t help but smile. Bud’s response was always the

same. His mother had long since stopped berating him from swearing, even in front of women and children. Bud, on his part, had long since stopped caring about what his mother thought. Bud’s round face and

26

scrawny upper body were obscured by the smoke, but Henry knew that he was smiling in anticipation for a comeback.

“Just walking around. I don’t know.” Bud’s face fell in disappointment.

“Well, if you don’t know, who does?”“Not a clue.” Henry sat down next Bud, and leaned against the

trailer. Bud took a long drag on the cigarette and passed it to Henry.

“So… you get to have a little fun with Florence Boulderson yet?” Henry rolled his eyes and passed the cigarette back. “Nope.

Don’t think it’s gonna happen.”“And why is that?”“I’m leaving tomorrow morning.” “Oh?” Bud turned to look at Henry. “You and your folks packing

up and leaving this delightful place?”“No, just me. Pa found out about a mine opening up out east.

He and mother seem to think that the drought will ease up, so they’re staying and I’m going to the mine to make a little money in the meantime.”

“Well, your parents are damn fools if they think this will get better. Might as well wish to shit gold bricks or something. But hey, at least there’s some money to be made out east. That’s something, I suppose.”

“True, it’s just that…” “You want to go out west and be a fancy-pants actor. Lord knows

I’ve heard you talk and talk and talk about it. Let me tell you something though: No way in hell is it gonna happen. The world doesn’t need more actors. Just you wait and see. Sooner or later, the stock market crash is gonna catch up to them, then there won’t be any more talkies. But farmers, or miners? Times may be pretty tough here, but elsewhere, there’ll always be farms to run and mines to dig up. And they’ll need people to do it. Your problem is you don’t want to get your pretty hands dirty. Besides, who’d want to put your ugly mug in front of camera anyway?”

Henry stared blankly into space. “Yeah, I suppose so.” “Take my advice. Go east. You might actually make some money

that way. Besides, if you go that way, you might even be able to take Miss Boulderson with you, or perhaps send for her at some point. With her parents in the condition that they’re in, I doubt they’ll be going anywhere for a while.”

27

Henry considered the thought. Florence’s parents had been hurt when a tornado had ripped through the area a month previously, and had been relying on Florence and her two brothers to keep earning what meager food and money they could. “I don’t think I could keep her and her parents on a miner’s wage.”

Bud looked straight into Henry’s eyes. “Then leave ‘em. Just take her.”

“I don’t know if I want to do that.” Bud shrugged and took another long drag on the slowly burning

cigarette. “Suit yerself. The option’s there for ya. What is they say? Carpe dime?”

“Diem,” Henry muttered. “It’s diem.” ´6HH��,�ÀJXUHG�\RX·G�NQRZ�µ�“Right.” Henry pushed himself up and walked away from the

trailer, waving dismissively as he left through a thick cloud of silver smoke. “Seeya around, Bud.”

“I reckon so.” +HQU\�PDGH�KLV�ZD\�IXUWKHU�WKURXJK�WKH�FDPS��7KH�ÀHOG�WKH\�

ZHUH�DOO�JDWKHUHG�LQ�KDG�RQFH�EHHQ�D�ERXQWLIXO�DQG�YHUGDQW�ÀHOG��SULPH�for grazing herds of sheep and goats, but the grass had since turned to brown dust, crumbling underfoot. The soil, the very foundation for growth, had grown sterile and empty of all sustenance. With nothing to keep it alive, everything else disintegrated. Henry had once thought that the people looked just as dead as the ground they walked on. Perhaps, he thought as he walked, that’s what made the talkies better than the real world. No dashing hero swings in to make it rain in the real world. No voluptuous woman gives the ground bedroom eyes to make the crops grow in the real world either. But on that giant screen before the teeming masses, men became gods and reality was their plaything. Limitless possibilities.

While his mind had been elsewhere, his feet had carried him to the Boulderson’s tent, and he stood for some time before he said anything. “Hey Florence!”

$IWHU�VRPH�VKXIÁLQJ��)ORUHQFH�HPHUJHG��+HU�JUHHQ�FRWWRQ�GUHVV�was in need of repair and cleaning, but didn’t take away from the wave of her blonde hair, the soft curve of her cheeks, and the shy smile on her full lips. Henry would remember the way she looked that day, dirt and all, for years to come.

“What can I do for you, Henry Adams?” +HQU\�VWUXJJOHG�WR�ÀQG�KLV�ZRUGV�IRU�D�PRPHQW��DQG�DIWHU�

28

he nervously pushed back his hair, he said, “I don’t suppose you’d accompany me for a walk?”

Florence looked down at the ground for a moment. Henry was pleased to see a hint of a blush forming on her face. “I would be delighted to. Just let me make sure my parents have everything they QHHG�µ�6KH�KXUULHG�EDFN�LQWR�WKH�WHQW��DQG�+HQU\�FRXOG�KHDU�VKXIÁLQJ�coming from the inside. He was fairly certain he heard the hushed tones of her father murmuring “What does the Adams boy want?” but he paid LW�QR�PLQG��+H�VWRRG�DORQH�IRU�VHYHUDO�PRPHQWV�EHIRUH�)ORUHQFH�ÀQDOO\�returned, drawing a shawl over her shoulders as the early evening air grew cooler. The two walked together in silence, neither speaking nor looking at each other until they were outside the borders of the camp, walking in the direction of a dilapidated barn a quarter mile out.

“Do you like it here, Miss Boulderson?” Henry asked nervously. He immediately felt stupid for saying it.

“A silly question, don’t you think?” “Yeah, I guess it is.” An awkward silence began to hang about

the two, like a thick cloud obscuring them from each other. Henry decided that, after a start like that, he might as well say something else stupid. “Florence?”

“Yes, Henry?”“I think you’re beautiful.” She paused a moment, and her face became unreadable to Henry.

“Thank you.” Everything tumbled from Henry’s mouth at once. “I’m leaving

tomorrow morning. On a truck to Virginia. There’s a coal mine that’s hiring in Pennsylvania.”

Another pause. “I see. Why does this matter to me? I assume you didn’t ask me to walk with you for you to tell me that I’m beautiful and WKHQ�OHDYH�µ�7KH�WZR�KDG�ÀQDOO\�UHDFKHG�WKH�ROG��UXQ�GRZQ�ZRRGHQ�EDUQ��and they stopped.

Henry locked eyes with Florence for a moment. “No, I don’t suppose I did ask you to walk with me for just that… Come with me. Leave with me. I could take care of you. Better than what’s out here for you.”

Florence gave Henry a wry smile. “I don’t think I want to do that. I can’t just leave my family here. What if the drought breaks? There’s too many what ifs.”

Henry nodded silently and stared down at his feet. He could feel her blue eyes boring into his forehead. His heart was racing in fear and

29

dejection, and he could feel his face become red and warm with shame, as if a teapot were boiling over. He closed his eyes and imagined a crowd seated before a stage. The monologue he was reciting in his mind was overshadowed by the booing and jeering for his poor performance. His inner heckling kept him from noticing that Florence had taken his hand, and had leaned in close to whisper into his ear.

“I won’t spend my life with you in Pennsylvania. But… perhaps we could spend the night together. Just one night?”

That night, Henry and Florence made love in the barn. The world around them had stood still, and even the old musty hay and the skittering mice did not divert their attentions. Their eyes were locked together the entire time, and their hearts were beating like war drums, a harbinger of chaos and passion. When it was over, they had held each other and whispered about what they wanted from life. She laughed when he told her that he wanted to become an actor, and he had frowned slightly when she said that she just wanted to at least live long enough see it rain again. Henry never spoke of what they had done to anyone, and he would always remember in his later years that his night with Florence was unlike any other experience he had had with women. He had no way of knowing that night after he left the camp, he would see Florence only once more.

The next morning, after hurrying to dress and pack his few belongings, including the worn copy of Macbeth, into his canvas rucksack, he stood out at the end of the long dirt road leading to the worker’s camp. The giant Ford trucks were parked, and some folks were already loading some items onto the backs. Henry tapped the shoulder of a middle aged woman whose name he had forgotten, to ask which truck was going where, and she pointed to the truck going to Virginia, where she was going.

Henry reached into his bag and pulled out the job notice and the WDONLH�ÁLHU�KH�KDG�XVHG�DV�D�ERRNPDUN��+H�ZDQWHG�WR�ZDON�WR�D�WUXFN��any truck, but his feet kept him anchored to the dirt, as if God himself had commanded him to stay put. He saw Bud and Florence off in the distance, at the camp, going about their daily routines. Nothing was changing for them. But for Henry, the world was opening itself up, all he had to do was to pick which way to go. The job notice exuded the promise of certain money, something he had not had in a long time. The WDONLH�ÁLHU��KRZHYHU��ZDV�EXW�D�EULOOLDQW�OLJKW�WR�EOLQG�WKH�YLHZHU�WR�MXVW�how much of a shithole they were waiting to die in.

30

The last passenger had loaded onto the trucks, and Henry was the only one not on a truck. The driver from the east-bound truck got out of the cab. “Hey, jackass, are ya getting in or what?”

+HQU\�VWDUHG�DW�WKH�MRE�ÁLHU��FUXPSOLQJ�LW�LQWR�D�EDOO�DQG�muttering “I don’t think I want to do this.” He waved the eastward bound driver on. Disdaining fortune, he ran to the westward bound truck, threw his bag in, and jumped into the truck bed after it.

31

Breakfast At The Diner

“Would you like more coffee?” The waitress’s words hadn’t registered. Jude Freeland’s body was

sitting alone at the counter of the Mariner Diner in Jonesport, Maine, but his mind was elsewhere, as if suspended in a vast emptiness. All KH�FRXOG�GR�ZDV�VLW�PRWLRQOHVV��VWDULQJ�DW�KLV�GLVWRUWHG�UHÁHFWLRQ�RQ�WKH�countertop, seeing the natural pale thinness of his face hidden by his short beard. He couldn’t remember the last time he had trimmed his beard.

“Hun, do you want more coffee?”Jude was shaken out of his thoughts. “Oh, yeah. I’ll have more

coffee. Thanks.” He glanced at the waitress’s nametag, squinting to read the beat-up print letter stickers on the plastic. Elizabeth. E-liz-a-beth. The name worked its way through his mind, attempting to discern meaning, to form connections. There was a time that names made sense to him, when he could list every client he had defended with that name. Nothing clicked. It was as if the name had lost all meaning for him. Everything was constantly losing meaning, as if a dictionary were KDYLQJ�HDFK�GHÀQLWLRQ�YLROHQWO\�ULSSHG�RXW��OHDYLQJ�EHKLQG�VLQJXODU�words and empty spaces.

The waitress had walked away, and Jude stared at the fried eggs on his plate. As he stared at them, so did they seem to stare back, two hideous white and yellow eyes glaring at him, as if waiting for him WR�PDNH�WKH�ÀUVW�PRYH��+H�SXVKHG�WKH�SODWH�DZD\�DQG�VLPSO\�VWDUHG�EODQNO\�DKHDG��ZDWFKLQJ�WKH�HOGHUO\�VKXIÁH�LQ�IRU�WKH�EUHDNIDVW�UXVK��7KH�small town atmosphere crept in, with each elderly person greeting the other regulars. The local grapevine was a well-oiled machine, and the townsfolk easily took notice of Jude. He felt eyes watching him when it was believed he wasn’t looking, and he could see out the window to see the stares his dark green ’76 Mercury Comet was collecting. All the little towns were the same to him. It didn’t matter if they were on the east coast, west coast, or in the middle of the Corn Belt. The towns all had the same quirks, the same habits, and the same idle curiosity at the new and unusual.

He looked over to the waitress, idly watching her as she made her rounds. She couldn’t have been older than thirty. She had gone to each table, greeting the elderly regulars jovially, as if their presence was her whole purpose for being. Her routine happiness continued until she reached the table of a young man eagerly typing away at a laptop.

32

Jude watched her closely, and he could see how timid she appeared as she spoke to the young man, how she blushed slightly when the young PDQ�VPLOHG��/LNH�DQ�DZNZDUGO\�FKRUHRJUDSKHG�GDQFH��WKH�ÁLUWLQJ�ZDV�off-putting to watch, and Jude turned away from the pair. They were too much like he and his wife had been when they were younger.

He had been happily married, in what felt like another life. His ZLIH��.DUHQ��ZDV�WKH�ÀUVW�RQH�WR�QRWLFH�ZKHQ�WKH�SUREOHPV�VWDUWHG�GXULQJ�his last case, New Mexico V. Beal. Jude had disappeared, his mind and thoughts lost and disjointed, despite his physical presence. For two months before he left, he and his wife had slept in separate rooms every night. She had insisted on the separate rooms, because his nightmares woke both of them up every night.

The nightmares hadn’t gone away in the two years since, like he thought they would. It was always the same: disjointed scenes in a courtroom, where he was standing behind the defendant’s table, next to Howard Beal. Each time, the jury would return the verdict of guilty, but never on Beal. The sentence would always be against Jude. Then WKH�ÁRRU�ZRXOG�RSHQ�XS��OLNH�WKH�JDSLQJ�PDZ�RI�D�PDVVLYH�EHDVW��DQG�Jude would feel himself falling into a crushing void. A chill raced up the length of his spine as he thought of the nightmare, but it was the merciful sound of arguing customers that yanked him back into the present.

“I won’t pay one damn cent for this.”“Sir, please keep your voice down, there are children in this

establishment.” Jude looked over his shoulder to see the young waitress being

harassed by an older man. His graying, unkempt hair framed his haggard face. To Jude’s surprise, no one seemed to be reacting, save for the looks of disgust from the locals, as if silently declaring the situation a lost cause. The waitress’s face was forecasting tears as the man continued to unrelentingly berate her.

“Oh, what the hell…” Jude muttered. He found his body drawn unwilling to the scene, and he collected looks as he passed the booths of assorted locals. “Friend, I think you need to calm down.” The old man was incredulous, as if he had been struck over the head with a shovel without warning.

“What did you just say to me, boy?” ´,�VDLG��FDOP�GRZQ��IULHQG�µ�-XGH�ZDV�PLOGO\�VDWLVÀHG�ZLWK�WKH�

edge of menace in his voice. Two years of wandering could give even the most mild-mannered an edge. Whether it was the menace, or the

33

fact that Jude was several inches taller and much younger, the old man seemed to back off. He backed up slowly towards the door, and barely missed running into an elderly couple as he exited.

“Asshole.” the waitress muttered. “You okay, miss?” ´<HDK��,·P�ÀQH��7KDQN�\RX��+H·V�W\SLFDOO\�SLFN\��DQG�KH�

complains a lot, but he doesn’t usually get this bad.” She looked away for a moment, as if she were distracted. “I should probably let my manager know about that. He didn’t pay for his meal, either. Thank you, again.”

Jude simply nodded, and she walked away. She kept her eyes À[HG�RQ�WKH�ÁRRU�DV�VKH�ZDONHG��D�VPDOO�VWDFN�RI�PHQXV�KHOG�WLJKWO\�to her chest. Jude had seen her walk and her demeanor, the look of a woman who was victimized. Some cruel bastard had hurt her. He hadn’t seen that look since, the case, when he had interviewed Sophie Beal.

The moment was clear in his mind, as if he were there, suspended in the moment once again. Sophie’s tears, her admission of Howard being violent, ruthless. She told him everything, including the night that he came home covered in blood. It was the last thing Jude had wanted to hear.

“Mrs. Beal” he had asked, “why didn’t you say anything to the police about this?”

“He’d kill me if I said something about it. Are you going to tell the court?” Jude had thought about that question for a long time. To say something to the court would be to undermine his entire defense for Howard, but not saying something would be a grievous lie of omission. He had thought about it for a long time. Law school had never prepared him for having to choose between being a good defense attorney and being a good human being. In the end, he had decided that the warm fuzzy feeling was not of equal value to a career and reputation. The nightmares started not long afterward.

As he thought about the case, he had returned to his seat, staring absently at the nearly full plate in front of him. In moments, he drained his coffee and started eating his toast, but the food sank into his stomach, like an anchor falling into an empty pit. The toast hadn’t been buttered, DQG�ZDV�GU\��GULHU�WKDQ�WKH�GHVHUW�WKDW�VXUURXQGHG�WKH�ÀUVW�WRZQ�KH�KDG�stopped in. He had found the Comet there, for sale, as if a Greek god ZDV�VHOOLQJ�KLV�ÀHU\�FKDULRW�WR�D�PRUWDO��7KH�YHKLFOH�VHHPHG�OLNH�LW�suited him, more so than the modern, bland car he had been driving. 7KH�&RPHW�ZDV�WKH�ÀUVW��DQG�RQO\��FKDQJH�WKDW�KH�KDG�PDGH�LQ�KLV�WLPH�

34

ZDQGHULQJ��$W�WKH�WLPH��LW�KDG�IHOW�OLNH�WKH�ÀUVW�RI�PDQ\�FKDQJHV��1RZ��LW�was just a reminder of how little he had accomplished in leaving home.

Then the phone rang. The cell phone that he carried had not rang in all the time he had

wandered, but he had kept it charged anyway, a habit of a previous life. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling the phone out and stared at the name of the caller, as if it was alien to him. The name of the caller was OLVWHG�DV�´1HLO�+DPPRQG�µ�KLV�ROG�ERVV�DW�WKH�ODZ�ÀUP�KH�KDG�ZRUNHG�for. He opened the phone.

“Hello?” “I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you’d answer.” Hammond’s gravely

voice crackled over the phone.“Neither did I.” “Well, I just wanted to let you know that Howard Beal is dead.” Jude sat straight up in his chair. “What happened?” “I don’t know too many details, but from what I’ve heard, he

tried to attack a little boy. The kid’s dad beat the hell out of him, and he didn’t make it.”

The pit in Jude’s stomach sank deeper. He placed a hand on the counter to steady himself, barely succeeding. “Thanks for letting me know.”

´<HDK��,�ÀJXUHG�WKDW�\RX·G�ZDQW�WR�EH�WROG��<·NQRZ��\RX·UH�missed around here. Lot of folks would be happy to have you back.”

“Not sure if I’m ready to be back yet.” “Well, when you get tired of sunbathing in Tijuana or whatever

the hell you’re doing, you give me a call, I can’t make any promises, but ,�WKLQN�,�PLJKW�EH�DEOH�WR�ÀQG�VRPH�ZRUN�IRU�\RX�µ

Jude pursed his lips. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”“Please do. Take care of yourself, Freeland.” ´,·OO�WU\��0U��+DPPRQG�µ�+H�ÁLSSHG�WKH�SKRQH�VKXW�DQG�VWDUHG�

blankly. The son of a bitch is dead, Jude thought. Some average guy had the guts to do what Jude hadn’t been able to do, and he had regretted it every single day. All Jude could do was slump towards the counter, feeling every muscle in his chest become viselike around his heart. All he could feel was a dull numbness snaking from his core, enveloping his entire body. After two years, he had never considered a world without the looming specter of Howard Beal in it.

He found himself remembering the last time he had seen Beal. +H�KDG�VDW�DFURVV�IURP�KLP�LQ�D�SULYDWH�URRP�LQ�SULVRQ��ÀQDOL]LQJ�their strategy for court. Each time Beal spoke, Jude felt his heart beat

35

IDVWHU��DQG�KH�IHOW�IHDU�UXQQLQJ�DQ�LF\�ÀQJHU�GRZQ�KLV�VSLQH��%HDO�ZRXOG�interrupt Jude’s explanations of the evidence in their favor, each time asking if the pieces of evidence presented to him would prove his innocence. With every mention of the word innocent, Jude found himself picturing Beal covered in blotches of human blood more and more. It was this image that Jude would see in his nightmares, and now, the nightmare, or at least the man behind the nightmare, was gone for good.

The laughter from a group of patrons shook Jude from his memory. He reached for his coffee, only to see the mug shaking in his hands. He drained the last dregs of the brew, and simply stared into space, struggling to form his thoughts.

A different waitress seemingly glided past each patron at the counter.

“Can I getcha anything else, handsome?” This waitress carried herself with the sophistication of an older woman, but the makeup on her face hid her age behind a thick wall of powders and oils. Her nametag was relatively clean, and the name Cheryl was obscured behind sparkling pink star-shaped stickers.

“I could use a bit more coffee, actually.”“Sure thing, sweetie.” She began pouring the coffee. “I don’t

think I’ve ever seen you here before. You on a vacation?”“No ma’am. Just passing through, unless you have any

suggestions of anything I should see while I’m here.”The waitress thought for a moment. “Well, we have pretty much

the same thing that any town worth its salt would. Y’know, library, school, town hall, that sort of thing. You could always take a look at the docks if you’re interested, or if you’re looking for work, the captains might be hiring. The lobster boats are doing pretty well right now.”

“Lobster boats, huh? I’ll have to check it out.” The waitress smiled and returned to her rounds. Jude turned to watch the customers. The breakfast crowd was thinning, with the groups of chatty senior FLWL]HQV�VKXIÁLQJ�RXW��DPRUSKRXV�PDVVHV�RI�JUD\�KDLU�DQG�JRVVLS��,Q�D�corner booth, a middle-aged couple was talking quietly, but agitatedly. She looked as if the fork in her hands would be better served sticking into her husband’s skull, and he seemed to want everything to go away, save for himself and his French toast.

The woman seemed to have the same expression his wife had given him when he said he was leaving. That conversation was burned into his memory:

“So that’s it? You’re just leaving?”

36

“Yes.”“You’re not even going to explain yourself.” “You wouldn’t understand.”“Oh really? I wouldn’t understand, huh? That’s all you’ve got to

say for yourself?”“Look, I just need time to put my thoughts together. Can you

please jus-”“I have been very patient with you, Jude. First you started

working ridiculously long nights. Then you start screaming in bed every night, and when you’re not doing that, you’re off somewhere else working again and obsessing over this case. Now you’re just going to leave? Without any explanation at all? And I’m just supposed to be okay with it? Screw you.”

“I lied in court. I helped a guilty man walk free.”His wife stared with wide eyes, “Excuse me?”“Beal was guilty. His wife told me everything, and gave me

evidence to prove it. I wanted to recuse myself from the case, then +DPPRQG�VDLG�LI�,�ZRQ�WKH�FDVH��KH·G�PDNH�PH�D�SDUWQHU�RI�WKH�ÀUP�µ

.DUHQ�VKRRN�KHU�KHDG��VWLOO�LQ�VKRFN��´:HOO��FRQJUDWXODWLRQV�ZLWK�your new partnership. I’m sure you’re proud.”

�´,�OHW�D�PXUGHUHU�JR�IUHH��+RZ�GR�\RX�WKLQN�,�IHHO"µ�.DUHQ�KDG�said nothing, so he continued. “I’ve done something horrible. I… I just QHHG�WR�OHDYH�WR�FOHDU�P\�KHDG��,�QHHG�WR�ÀJXUH�RXW�ZKHUH�WR�JR�IURP�here. I feel like, I dunno, like part of my soul is broken. And I know I have no one to blame but myself, but I don’t want to live like this.”

“Well, if you think I’m just going to sit here and wait for you ZKLOH�\RX�JR�ÀQG�\RXUVHOI�DIWHU�\RX·YH�KDG�VRPH�NLQG�RI�FULVLV�RI�conscience, then you are sorely mistaken.”

“I know.” 7KH�FRQQHFWLRQ�WKH\�RQFH�IHOW�HQGHG�IRU�.DUHQ�WKDW�QLJKW��EXW�

it had ended for Jude months before. The next day he had left without a word. It wasn’t until he had checked his email at a public library in Corvallis, Oregon a month later that he found that he had been served with divorce papers. He did not hesitate to sign them. He had no reason to hold her back and keep her from living her life.

“Would you like your check now, sweetie?” The older waitress’s inquiry had pulled Jude out of his thoughts.

+H�ORRNHG�DW�WKH�FRQWHQWV�RI�KLV�KDOI�HDWHQ�EUHDNIDVW��GLVVDWLVÀHG�ZLWK�EHLQJ�XQDEOH�WR�ÀQLVK��´<HDK��,�JXHVV�,·OO�WDNH�WKH�FKHFN��7KDQNV�µ

As he waited for the check, he looked out the window. Beyond

37

the glass, a harbor was in view, with many of the boats steadily leaving to begin reaping the ocean’s harvest. The harbor looked inviting. In all the time he had been travelling, and in all the port cities and seaside towns he had stopped in, he had never taken the time to go on a boat. He found himself thinking, “I could stay here. Start over.” The thought appealed to him. After two years, the nightmares hadn’t stopped. Nothing had made a dent in the iron walls of his guilt. Maybe what he needed was to make a change, to learn how to live again.

Yet, the gaping wound in his being had not been healed. Two years had passed, and in all that time, none of the towns he had passed through had anything to offer him. What if this new town, this Jonesport, was just a temporary patch, like the car? Change, it seemed to Jude, only served to solidify the moment in the sameness that had come before it.

Against his will, he found himself, standing, walking towards the GRRU��OLNH�D�WLWDQ�ÀUVW�OHDUQLQJ�WR�ZDON��DQG�ZLWK�HDFK�VWHS��GHFLGLQJ�WKH�fate of all those underfoot. The old waitress, waiting at the cash register, ÁDVKHG�KHU�JDXG\��PDNHXS�VWUHZQ�VPLOH��+H�KDQGHG�KHU�WKH�FDVK�DQG�WKH�check.

“I hope you enjoyed everything this morning.” The smile grew wider.

“Yeah.”“Enjoy the rest of your stay in Jonesport, the only town in

America with that name!” Jude saw several locals roll their eyes at this. This was the rehearsed line that everyone used, it seemed.

He walked out to the parking lot and sat down into the driver’s seat of the Comet for a few moments. The old brown leather on the wheel felt smooth and worn under his hands from his constant use. The miles and months had been kind to the car, and it had the same shine to LW�WKDW�LW�KDG�KDG�ZKHQ�KH�ÀUVW�ERXJKW�LW��DW�WKH�EHJLQQLQJ�RI�KLV�WUDYHOV��The miles and months had been far crueler to Jude, as he looked out the window of the Comet, he couldn’t bring himself to drive.

Getting out of the car, he felt his feet taking control, turning towards the docks down the street. Jude could feel them pulling him, as if they were insatiable hounds dragging their master behind them. Every step took him further from the Comet and the diner, and closer to the EULQH�FRDWHG�KXOOV�RI�WKH�ÀVKLQJ�ERDWV��7KH�FORVHU�KH�FDPH�WR�WKH�GRFNV��the more he could feel the salty air whipping lightly at his face, and for WKH�ÀUVW�WLPH�LQ�D�ORQJ�WLPH��KH�IHOW�UHOD[HG��-XGH�NHSW�ZDONLQJ�FORVHU�DQG�closer, until he found himself standing on the docks, looking down onto WKH�GHFN�RI�ÀVKLQJ�ERDW��DQ�ROG�WUDZOHU�ZLWK�WKH�ZDWHU�HDWHQ�ZRUGV�Lady

38

Grey painted on the side. “Can I help you, friend?”Jude looked around the boat, and saw the brown, weathered face

of an old man, his head sticking out the window from the cabin. He took in a breath of deep air, and smiled.

“I don’t suppose you’re looking for any deck hands?”The old man smiled back.

39

This Town Ain’t Big Enough For The Both Of Us, Baby

“Like hell you’re gonna leave this bar, Flannery. Tell me where the idol is.”

Flannery smiled, and his thin dark mustache made his smile seem even bigger. He adjusted the cuffs of his trench coat and said, “You can take the idol from my cold, dead hands, chum.” The dimly lit room EHFDPH�D�ÁXUU\�RI�PRWLRQ�DQG�\HOOLQJ�DV�SLQVWULSH�VXLWHG�PHQ�WKUHZ�punches and smashed green glass bottles on the wooden bar. Absolute EHGODP�WRRN�KROG��(YHU\RQH�IUR]H�ZKHQ�WKH�DLU�EHFDPH�ÀOOHG�ZLWK�WKH�ring and grey smoke of a gunshot. The entire bar fell silent.

“Aaaaand cut! Looks good people. We’ll pick up tomorrow at 9:30 in the A.M. and we’ll get the rest of the scene. Gettin’ too damn late IRU�DQ\�PRUH�WRQLJKW��DQG�5.2�GRHVQ·W�SD\�PH�E\�WKH�KRXU��'ROOLHV���DQG���QHHG�QHZ�ÀOP��DQG�JHW�WKH�EOXH�OLJKW�RYHU�WKHUH�D�QHZ�EXOE��,�GRQ·W�want it going out on us again in the middle of the scene. Mr. von Brecht, can I speak with you a moment?”

/DUJH�ÀOO�OLJKWV�DQG�RYHUKHDG�OLJKWV�ZHUH�VKXW�RII��PLFURSKRQHV�on booms were turned off and lifted away, and the entire room came alive with rushing stagehands. Cameramen began to dismantle the KXONLQJ�SLHFHV�RI�HTXLSPHQW��FKDQJLQJ�RXW�UHHOV�RI�ÀOP�IRU�QHZ�ÀOP��a tabula rasa for the modern age. On the set, the man that had been the GLVJUXQWOHG�GHWHFWLYH�)ODQQHU\�ZDV�LQVWDQWDQHRXVO\�WUDQVPRJULÀHG�LQWR�the actor Hugo von Brecht, and he set his prop pistol and badge into the waiting hands of a crewman as he made his way through the crowd of extras towards the back of the studio, where Howard Goldman, the director, was sitting, smoking and fanning himself with a worn copy of The Atlantic. Goldman motioned to the actor to take a seat between himself and the busily scribbling screenwriter.

“Hugo,” he said as the actor sat down, “You’re doing great work up there. Really fucking incredible stuff. The delivery of that ‘I’m leavin’ this dive’ bit was beautiful. But, well look. I’ve got a concern… WRPRUURZ�ZH·UH�JRQQD�EH�ÀOPLQJ�VRPH�VFHQHV�ZLWK�\RX�DQG�/RUDLQH��Now before you say anything, I’ve already talked to the producers. We can’t just have her booted. We’ve already spent too much time and PRQH\�ÀOPLQJ�VFHQHV�ZLWK�KHU�WR�UH�VKRRW��DQG�WKH�PRPHQW�ZH�WU\�WR�break her contract, her people will be up my ass about it.”

Hugo stared intently at the set, avoiding Goldman’s gaze. “I won’t shoot any scenes with that woman.”

“Well I don’t want to shoot any scenes with her either, but we’ve

40

already used the time and money, and she’s got our balls in a vice. Can you at least not antagonize her, please? She’s bad enough without you prodding her and egging her on.”

Both men fell silent, with actor and director staring at each other, an unspoken understanding passing between the two, as the screenwriter wrote on, oblivious. Eventually, Hugo let his head hang for a moment, WXUQLQJ�KLV�H\HV�WRZDUGV�WKH�EDUH�FRQFUHWH�ÁRRU��+H�FRXOG�VHH�QR�ZD\�WR�escape the bitch. “Fine. I’ll play nice. But if she so much as speaks one word to me off the set, I’ll let her have it.”

Goldman dropped The Atlantic and pushed his glasses up to rub his eyes, sighing as he did so. “Whatever makes you happy, Brecht. Whatever makes you happy.”

´*RRG�µ�6DWLVÀHG��YRQ�%UHFKW�VWRRG�DQG�PDGH�KLV�ZD\�WR�KLV�dressing room, following a dimly lit hall until he reached a door marked with a hastily painted red star and a tacked on piece of yellow paper with the words “von Brecht” written on it. He stepped into the fan-cooled room removing the grey costume trench coat, placing it gently onto a wire clothes hanger. He had gotten tired of the costume department bitching and moaning every time an item came back with the slightest wrinkle. Even with scrupulous care, he still noticed glares from Dick Cohen, the costume designer.

Hugo checked his appearance in his vanity table mirror, staring blankly at his own face, with its thin pencil-lined mustache, neatly SDUWHG�DQG�VOLFNHG�KDLU��DQG�ZHOO�GHÀQHG�MDZOLQH��+H�ZDV�EHJLQQLQJ�to see time wearing away at his face. The earliest indications of lines were starting to show when he smiled or frowned, and his eyes betrayed a tiredness that hadn’t been the three years before. When he had had enough of looking in the mirror, he started to slowly pace the length RI�WKH�URRP��DQG�HYHQWXDOO\�VHWWOHG�RQWR�WKH�ÁRUDO�SULQWHG�ORYHVHDW��$�VLOYHU�FLJDUHWWH�FDVH�ÀOOHG�ZLWK�/XFN\�6WULNHV�DQG�D�PDWFKLQJ�OLJKWHU�with “H.A.” engraved into it with swirling script sat on the nearby coffee table. Brecht reached over and grabbed the two, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. He felt the indentations of the engraved initials, worn smooth by his hands over the past eleven years. “H.A.” felt like a completely different person… a scared boy climbing on a truck, or a young man hiding in the crowd as the Germans marched up and down the Champs Elysees. Thinking about it, Hugo wondered what on earth had possessed “H.A.” to go to Paris in 1940. The romanticism RI�ZDU�ZDV�QRW�QHDUO\�DV�URPDQWLF�DV�WKH�ÀFWLRQ�ZULWHUV�KDG�PDGH�LW�RXW�WR�EH��9RQ�%UHFKW�FRXOG�VWLOO�UHPHPEHU�MXVW�KRZ�UHG�WKH�ÁDJV�ZHUH�

41

that the Nazis had hung from almost every building and monument. He remembered passing a bakery when a sign was nailed to the door banning all Jews from entering. The German soldier’s hammer hit the QDLO�ZLWK�DQ�DOPRVW�PHFKDQLFDO�DQG�XQHUULQJ�SURÀFLHQF\��DV�LI�KH�KDG�practiced and the maneuver had been drilled into him.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.“Mr. von Brecht, Ms. Girard is here to see you.”“Tell Ms. Girard that I’m not here.”7KHUH�ZDV�D�PRPHQW�RI�PXIÁHG�FRQYHUVDWLRQ�RQ�WKH�RWKHU�VLGH�

of the door, and the door opened. A woman in a black fur coat and hat stepped through the door, leaving a nervous stagehand in her wake. She stood silently near the entrance, surveying the dressing room imperiously.Hugo motioned for her to join him on the loveseat. He tried to keep his tone even and calm as he said, “Hello Loraine. To what do I owe this, ah… unexpected visit?”

Loraine walked towards Hugo, but kept the coffee table between them. “Care to explain these?” She dropped a manila folder onto the coffee table, with some papers sticking out from it, all the while staring at Hugo through the smoke of his cigarette. When he didn’t immediately answer, she raised her voice slightly. “Well?”

“I should think they’re pretty obvious. They’re divorce papers.” +XJR·V�ÀQJHUV�EHJDQ�WR�UXE�WKH�VXUIDFH�RI�WKH�OLJKWHU�D�OLWWOH�PRUH�WLJKWO\��

Loraine pursed her lips. “I can see that. Why the hell are you doing this?”

Hugo’s eyes narrowed. “Why? That’s quite a list. Perhaps it might be the fact that you stumble onto the set smelling like booze, not JHWWLQJ�D�VLQJOH�GDPQ�OLQH�ULJKW��,W�FRXOG�EH�WKH�IDFW�WKDW�ÀUVW�\RX�ZHUH�coming home late from the bars or clubs or wherever, and then stopped coming home at all. It may very well also be bills I’m getting in the mail from jewelers and dress shops. Ever since you had that movie WKDW�ÁRSSHG��\RX·YH�EHHQ�DEVROXWHO\�XQEHDUDEOH��$W�WKLV�SRLQW��,·YH�KDG�enough. We’re done.”

Loraine stood completely still, staring at Hugo with wide eyes. Tears seemed to be forming at their corners. Her hands were at her sides, EDOOHG�LQWR�VKDNLQJ�ÀVWV��

“I hate you.”´:KDW��IRU�ÀQDOO\�KDYLQJ�HQRXJK�RI�\RX"�<RX·YH�JRW�QR�RQH�WR�

blame bu-”“Who’s Florence?”

42

“What?” Hugo sat up straighter in the loveseat.“Who’s Florence? You’re sitting there high and mighty. Well,

I read the mail too, and I keep seeing letters from someone named )ORUHQFH�+DUULV��LQ�4XHHQV��<RX�UHPHPEHU�&LW\�'UHDPV��WZR�PRQWKV�ago? I just happened to be in New York shooting scenes, and I decided to pay little Miss Florence a visit. Imagine her surprise when Hugo von Brecht’s wife shows up. She tells me she knew you when you were still going by Henr-”

“Get to the point, Loraine.” “The point, Hugo, is that you have a kid. All this time, and

\RX·YH�QHYHU�VDLG�D�JRG�GDPQHG�ZRUG��,�JDYH�\RX�ÀYH�\HDUV�RI�P\�OLIH��Five years, and you’ve never said a word about having a kid. What, were you gonna go run off with this trollop? Send her money to pay for your little mistake?”

Hugo was silent for a moment. He set his lighter down on the coffee table next to the manila folder, and, struggling to keep his voice even, said, “Are you going to sign the papers or not?”

Loraine stared at him, her eyes boring into his skull, and she turned and left the dressing room, slamming the door behind her. Hugo remained still for several moments, gripping the edges of the loveseat, half expecting her to barge back in just to have the last word. When he ÀQDOO\�IHOW�KH�KDG�ZDLWHG�ORQJ�HQRXJK��KH�SLFNHG�XS�WKH�IROGHU��VKDNLQJ�its contents loose. The divorce papers, emblazoned with a seal from the Los Angeles courts, fell onto the coffee table, all signed. Hugo smiled slightly, letting out an unconsciously held breath as he did so. Feeling that the folder was still somewhat heavy, he shook it a little more, letting a ring and a photograph fall out. He picked up the ring, the diamond wedding ring he had bought for Loraine. As pretty and expensive as it ZDV��KH�KDG�QHYHU�UHDOO\�IHOW�VDWLVÀHG�ZLWK�LW��,W�ODFNHG�FKDUDFWHU��MXVW�a rock on a piece of metal. It indicated nothing to Hugo except a legal proceeding and a willingness to spend too much money. The photo, on the other hand, seemed like it was the only thing about their marriage that had character.

Hugo stared at the photo, taken in 1944 at the Warner Brothers studios. They sat on chairs with “Girard” and “von Brecht” on the backs, ZKLOH�RII�VHW�GXULQJ�WKH�ÀOPLQJ�RI�WKHLU�ÀUVW�ÀOP�WRJHWKHU�DV�D�FRXSOH��Thunder of the Jungle. They were holding hands. Hugo remembered the day the picture was taken. A stagehand who was an aspiring photographer had seen the couple from the back and snapped the picture, JLYLQJ�LW�WR�WKHP�ZKHQ�ÀOPLQJ�KDG�EHHQ�FRPSOHWHG��7KH�SLFWXUH�ZDV�WKH�

43

only existing piece of evidence that there had been a time when Hugo and Loraine had been happy together, and had genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

Hugo took one last drag on his Lucky Strike, and pressed the cigarette into the glass ashtray on the coffee table, and simply sat, watching the smoke trail lazily from the tray to the ceiling. He sat VWLOO�IRU�VRPH�WLPH�EHIRUH�ÀQDOO\�FKDQJLQJ�KLV�FORWKHV�DQG�OHDYLQJ�WKH�dressing room, grabbing his cigarette case and lighter as he left. Hugo walked out of the studio, passing stagehands and cameramen as he SDVVHG��DQG�ÀQDOO\�PDGH�LW�RXW�WKH�GRRU�LQWR�WKH�EULJKW�/RV�$QJHOHV�VXQ��and his driver, Walt, was waiting with the car, a black 1946 Rolls–Royce Silver Wraith. Walt, a portly, balding man in a neatly kept grey suit, waved to Hugo and said “Where to, sir?”

“Home, Walt.” “Of course, sir. I also took the liberty of collecting your mail,

since you left very early this morning.” “Thanks, Walt. What would I do without you?”“Drive yourself, I presume.” “Hmmm… Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”Hugo climbed into the car, and the two men travelled in silence

IRU�VRPH�WLPH��$IWHU�DERXW�WHQ�PLQXWHV��+XJR�ÀQDOO\�EHJDQ�WR�WKXPE�through his mail. Most of it was offers from other studios, asking if he ZRXOG�EH�ZLOOLQJ�WR�UHDG�IRU�D�SDUW�IRU�VXFK�DQG�VXFK�ÀOP�EHLQJ�GLUHFWHG�by such and such person. Out of the small stack of letters, only one caught his attention, from Florence. He immediately recognized her handwriting from their numerous correspondences, but paused before he opened it, thinking about Loraine for a moment, and her discovery of the letters. He wasn’t sure if opening it was a good idea, especially so soon after the argument, but at the same time, he had a nagging need to know what Florence had written. After some hesitation, and a deep intake of EUHDWK��KH�ÀQDOO\�RSHQHG�WKH�HQYHORSH��WRRN�RXW�WKH�OHWWHU��DQG�VLOHQWO\�read.

Henry, Well, I certainly didn’t expect to see Loraine Girard. I don’t know

what you were thinking, sending her here, but she told me about all of the things you do there in Hollywood. The parties, the drinking, all of it. You barely sound like the man I remember you to be.

Victor wants to meet you, or at least, he wants to meet Hugo. He still doesn’t know who you really are. You asked in your last letter if you could meet him. From what your wife said, I honestly think it’s for the

44

EHVW�WR�VD\�QR��+H�DGRUHV�6WDQ��DQG�KH�GRHVQ·W�QHHG�DQRWKHU�IDWKHU�ÀJXUH�in his life right now. I know you want to meet him, but with your lifestyle and job, I just don’t think that’s a very stable life for him. He’s young, he’s impressionable, and I don’t want him growing up with that. You don’t need to give me money or anything. Stan takes good care of Victor and I, and he’s planning on formally adopting Victor.

I know this meant a lot to you, but if you really care about Victor, you’ll stay away. Let him be a normal kid.

Goodbye, Henry. -FlorenceP.S. – Stan passed through Fredonia while on a business trip. He

SXW�VRPH�ÁRZHUV�RQ�%XG·V�JUDYH�IRU�PH��+H�VDLG�LW�ORRNHG�OLNH�LW�KDGQ·W�been tended in some time. I thought you might want to know.

P.S.S . I think this will be the last correspondence we have. Please don’t send anymore letters.

Hugo put the letter back into its envelope, wiping his eyes with one hand. It was a lot to handle. He hadn’t expected her to say no to letting him see Victor. He had never seen his son, and it was sinking LQ�WKDW�KH�QHYHU�ZRXOG��+H�IHOW�KLV�ÀVWV�FOHQFK��KLV�PRXWK�GUDZ�LQWR�D�thin line, and his chest tighten. The thoughts that he had entertained of taking this faceless boy to see a movie, or to make dinner for him, or to tuck him into bed at night seemed to slip away from him, as if he were mentally grasping at smoke.

“We’re here, sir.” “Thank you Walt. You can go home for the day, I don’t plan on

going anywhere, and I won’t need you to run for anything.”“Of course. Have a pleasant day, Mr. von Brecht.”“You too, Walt.” Hugo watched Walt drive the Rolls–Royce into the garage, and

then pull out again in his own car, a dark green 1938 Buick Century. +XJR�ZDYHG�DQG�ZDWFKHG�:DOW�OHDYH�EHIRUH�ÀQDOO\�JRLQJ�LQVLGH��7KH�mansion, a white colonial revival built in 1910, was completely quiet. 7KHUH�ZHUH�EDUH�VSRWV�RQ�WKH�ÁRRUV�DQG�ZDOOV�ZKHUH�WKLQJV�KDG�RQFH�been, revealing the beautiful and richly stained woodwork. Loraine must have moved out already, Hugo thought. It certainly hadn’t taken her long. There was a strange feeling in the house, like there was an open wound of absence hanging in the air, and yet, the stillness was comforting. He went into his dining room, and took a bottle of 1900 George Roulette brandy, pouring a glass for himself. The glass sat on the table for a

45

PRPHQW��DQG�+XJR�VWDUHG�DW�LW��7KH�GDUN�OLTXLG�LQ�WKH�JODVV�UHÁHFWHG�Hugo’s face and distorted it, giving him caricature-like proportions. Just one, he thought. With shaking hands, he brought the glass to his lips and downed the drink, and it left a stinging aftertaste in his mouth. Before his brain told his hands to stop, he was pouring another drink.7ZR�GULQNV�WXUQHG�LQWR�WKUHH��DQG�WKUHH�WXUQHG�LQWR�ÀYH��+LV�WKRXJKWV�ZHUH�EHFRPLQJ�ÁXLG�LQ�KLV�EUDLQ��VWD\LQJ�IRU�D�PRPHQW�DQG�WKHQ�ÁRZLQJ�away as easily as they arrived, as if swept by a current. He thought of Florence, and their night together in that barn long ago, and the night they had spent together in New York City. He thought of Bud, and how he should have listened to his friend. He thought of how Bud was now just as lonely as he was, with an untended grave and no visitors. It made his stomach churn. Despite the silence of the house, the blood SRXQGLQJ�LQ�KLV�KHDG�ÀOOHG�KLV�HDUV�ZLWK�D�FRQVWDQW�WKXPSLQJ���+H�stared at the room around him. The stillness left Hugo with an idea, an uncomfortable, anxiety-inducing thought that demanded submission. The idea was absolutely ridiculous and risky. Bud would have told him not to do it and then followed it up with a joke, but Bud wasn’t there anymore.

Hugo stumbled to his desk in the parlor, feet feeling like iron weights dragging him down, and he reached into one of the dark cherry ZRRG�GUDZHUV�XQWLO�KH�PDQDJHG�WR�JHW�KLV�ÀQJHUV�DURXQG�DQ�HQYHORSH��paper, and a pen, and began to write a letter on the front of the envelope, he wrote To Victor Harris, 39 East 97th St., New York City, NY, 10029. He hesitated to put the pen to paper, and the alcohol was making it GLIÀFXOW�WR�PDNH�VHQVH�RI�ZKDW�KH�ZDQWHG�WR�VD\��EXW�KH�HYHQWXDOO\�VWDUWHG�WR�ZULWH��VORZO\�DW�ÀUVW��DQG�WKHQ�ZLWK�LQFUHDVLQJ�VSHHG��KLV�thoughts beginning to pour out of him like a waterfall.

Victor, A man has many responsibilities in life. I suppose that I should

know, as I’ve certainly run away from many of them. One of those responsibilities is to family. That being said, you’re my son. I don’t know any other way to say it. I’ve delivered plenty of lines, some of them pretty clever, but they were all pretty lies written by a screenwriter to make VRPHRQH�LQ�D�WKHDWHU�VPLOH��$OO�RI�WKDW�LV�MXVW�DUWLÀFH��7KLV�LV�DEVROXWH�truth.

I met your mother when we were both younger. We were very good friends, and after I left to work in Hollywood, we didn’t see each other for a while. We saw each other again nine years ago, in 1942, and from what your mother has told me in her letters, you were born not long

46

after, in June of 1943. Your mother and I considered the possibility of me trying to play

a part in your life, but when she met Stan Harris, and they got married, we decided to hold off on that. We both agreed it wasn’t the right time. You were only four, and we thought you weren’t ready. Then I got married, and we waited a little longer. Now, well, I honestly don’t know if your mother ever plans on telling you. If you ever read this, there are just some things I want you to know.

First, don’t be angry with your mother for not telling you. She has always been a hardworking woman. Even when I knew her from the worker camps in Oklahoma, she always worked hard. She’s always done the best she possibly could for her family, you included. From what she’s WROG�PH�LQ�KHU�OHWWHUV��6WDQ�LV�WKH�VDPH�ZD\��,·P�FRPSOHWHO\�FRQÀGHQW�that you’ll always be safe and under good care.

Second, the man I am on screen is not the man I am in reality. I’m not a dashing hero, a spaceman, or anything like that. I’m just a PDQ��ÁHVK�DQG�ERQH�OLNH�DQ\�RWKHU��<RX�PD\�QRW�HQWLUHO\�XQGHUVWDQG�KRZ�important a distinction this is now, but you will, one day. How a man appears and what he’s really like are two different things.

The last thing you need to know: dreams have a cost. When I left my folks behind in Oklahoma, they thought I was going to Pennsylvania, but I went to California instead, to become an actor. I left them, and your mother, behind. It wasn’t worth it. I wish I could do it all again. I wish I could just

It was there that Hugo stopped writing, and his head slumped onto the desk, completely unconscious to the world.

The next morning, Hugo awoke at his desk, his head aching, and the ringing of the telephone did not help. God damned phone, he thought. Groaning, he pushed himself up from the desk with aching joints, and walked to the other end of the parlor, grabbing ahold of the telephone.

“Yeah?” ´7KHUH·V�D�FDOO�IRU�\RX�VLU��IURP�5.2�3LFWXUHV�������:DVKLQJWRQ�

Blvd., Culver City. Do you accept the call?”“Yeah, operator, I’ll take the call.” There was a momentary pause before a booming man’s voice

ÀOOHG�WKH�WHOHSKRQH��´+XJR"�,W·V�+RZLH�*ROGPDQ��<RX�QHYHU�VKRZHG�up this morning for your scenes with Loraine. I’ve tried calling several times. What’s going on? Please tell me you’re not strung out on drugs or something. That’s the last thing I need today.”

47

Hugo looked at the clock on his desk. 11:26. “Sorry, Mr. Goldman. I, ah… felt very sick this morning. I’ve spent most of the morning vomiting my guts out. Must have been something I ate.”

´:HOO��\RX�FRXOG�KDYH�DW�OHDVW�FDOOHG�P\�RIÀFH�DQG�OHW�PH�know. Being a big shot actor doesn’t make you exempt from a little professional courtesy. Loraine is bitching up a storm. I had to redo the entire god damned shooting schedule to work around this. I’m already getting calls from the producers why we’re gonna need extra ti-”

“I’m really sorry about this, Mr. Goldman. I’ll get my things WRJHWKHU�DQG�KHDG�LQ�ULJKW�QRZ��,·P�VXUH�ZH�FDQ�GR�VRPH�PRUH�ÀOPLQJ�today to make up for the lost time. I’ll be there around 12:15. Does that work for you?”

7KH�OLQH�ZDV�VLOHQW�IRU�D�PRPHQW��EHIRUH�*ROGPDQ�ÀQDOO\�VLJKHG�and said, “Yeah… alright, Hugo. I guess we can work around that.”

“Thanks, Mr. Goldman.” Hugo hanged up the phone rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up. Eventually, he went upstairs to get GUHVVHG�DQG�VKDYHG��:KHQ�KH�KDG�ÀQLVKHG��KH�SDVVHG�E\�KLV�GHVN�DQG�VDZ�WKH�XQÀQLVKHG�OHWWHU�VLWWLQJ�WKHUH��VLOHQWO\�GHPDQGLQJ�KLV�DWWHQWLRQ��He took it and read through it, hands shaking slightly as he did so. He glanced down at the desk and saw the envelope sitting there, addressed and ready to go. Carefully, he took the letter and put it into the envelope.

“I don’t think he’s ready for this,” Hugo said to himself. “Hell, I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

He pulled out his lighter, and lit one corner of the letter, setting it carefully into the nearby metal wire wastebasket. He didn’t stay to watch WKH�LQN�DQG�SDSHU�WXUQ�WR�EODFN��DQG�ÀQDOO\�WR�DVK��1RU�GLG�KH�VHH�LW�ZKHQ�it eventually crumbled to pieces.

48

Billy The Creator

Thunder rolled throughout the realm. It sounded vaguely like “Billy, get ready for dinner!” The knights were lined up at the castle gates, and the light glinted off of their silver-painted plastic armor. Billy the Creator reached down with freckled hands to guide the knights’ unmoving legs forward, while the evil dragon sat a few feet away, waiting for them. Only the bravest knight could pierce the resin scales of the beast, and on this day, Billy the Creator had divinely ordained Sir Bob to be the one to save the kingdom and its denizens. Sir Franklin had already fought the creature, DQG�WKH�GD\�EHIRUH��WKH�JRRG�4XHHQ�/XF\�NLOOHG�LW��ZKLOH�GRQQLQJ�RQO\�D�GUHVV�RI�WKH�ÀQHVW�V\QWKHWLF�PDWHULDOV��

Billy the Creator’s hands reached down to move the brave knights around the dragon. Sir Brian the Bold, in his red and black SODWH�DUPRU��ZDV�WKH�ÀUVW�WR�IDOO��7KH�ODVW�WKLQJ�KH�VDZ�ZDV�WKH�GUDJRQ·V�DOZD\V�JDSLQJ�PDZ���0DQ\�NQLJKWV�ÁHG�DV�WKH�PRQVWHUV·�EUHDWKH�OHW�ORRVH�WUHPHQGRXV�JRXWV�RI�EULOOLDQW�RUDQJH�ÁDPHV��$UURZV�ÀUHG�E\�WKH�archers on the cardboard battlements made a resounding p-kew p-kewas they soared. The battle raged on for twenty minutes. After a great struggle and the loss of many knights, Sir Bob stood ready, and Billy the &UHDWRU�SRLVHG�KLV�KDQG�WR�GHOLYHU�WKH�ÀQDO�EORZ�

“Billy! Billy! Dinner is ready!” The kingdom thundered and shook as Billy ran downstairs. Even the Creator needs to eat.

49

Community Ordnance #2007-36

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT TO THE RESIDENTS OF ARDENVILLE:

Due to the recent reports of residents feeding the local bear population, the Ardenville Town Council has passed Community Ordnance #2007-36 that states therein:

“Article (1) No individual(s) shall purposefully provide any material that can be used as food to the wild bears in the area.

Such materials include, but are not limited to: corn, bread, human-KDUYHVWHG�ÀVK��FDQG\��EHHI�MHUN\��SURFHVVHG�GRJ�IRRG��SURFHVVHG�FDW�food, unprocessed dog food, unprocessed cat food, potatoes and related potato products.

Subsection (A) Any individual(s) caught providing the aforementioned items, and any other such items is VXEMHFW�WR�WKH�IROORZLQJ�SHQDOWLHV�������86'�ÀQH�����GD\�� �imprisonment, and summary execution.

Subsection (B) Any individual(s) charged with this offense PD\�ÀOH�DQ�DSSHDO�WKURXJK�WKH�:LOVRQ�&RXQW\�&RXUW�ZLWKLQ�and not exceeding 48 hours from the time of sentencing. There is a $29.95 USD processing fee for all appeals.”

This has been a friendly public service announcement to the citizens ofArdenville. Thank you for your time and have a wonderful day.

Regards, The Ardenville Town Council

“Ardenville: Where the simple meets the supreme.”

50

On the train home

There were only four other people in the train car, and Valentine didn’t pay attention to any of them. He drowned out the rumbling of the tracks and the laughter of a young couple with Dream Theater playing loudly in his headphones. The brash strains of the electric guitar helped him focus as he hastily drew the outlines of a cartoon character he came up with earlier in the day. The idea came to him while getting coffee at WKH�VWDWLRQ��+LV�PLQG�FRQMXUHG�DQ�LPDJH�RI�D�VXSHUKHUR�LQ�DQ�RXWÀW�RI�yellow and black, and the thought had stuck.

$V�KH�ÀQLVKHG�GUDZLQJ�RQH�RI�WKH�ODVW�WKLQ�JUDSKLWH�OLQHV�RQWR�WKH�SDSHU��QHHGLQJ�RQO\�D�V\PERO�RQ�WKH�FKHVW�RI�WKH�VXSHUKHUR�WR�ÀQLVK�WKH�picture, the train came to a stop, and Valentine vaguely heard the ticket collector yell “Malvern Station! All off for Malvern station!” Valentine hastily stuffed the sketchbook into a pocket of his pea coat, and pulled his scarf closer to his face as he stepped out of the train and into the cold.

He never noticed that the sketchbook fell out of his pocket and WKH�HOHFWULF�JXLWDUV�GURZQHG�RXW�WKH�WKXPS�RI�WKH�ERRN�KLWWLQJ�WKH�ÁRRU�of the train car.

51

52

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to the following publications and contests where my pieces have received prior recognition:

- “Breakfast at the Diner” appears in the 2014 edition of�7KH�5HÁHFWRU- “Breakfast at the Diner” appears in the 2014 edition of�7KH�5HÁHFWRU- “Breakfast at the Diner” appears in the 2014 edition of .

- “East and West” appears in the 2015 edition of 7KH�5HÁHFWRU.

-”This Town Ain’t Big Enough for the Both of Us, Baby” and “Late Night Television” appear in the 2016 edition of 7KH�5HÁHFWRU�

��´7UDLOVµ�ZDV�D�ÀQDOLVW�LQ�WKH������($368�6WXGHQW�3RHWU\�&RQWHVW�