Fall 2013
Interesting Things
Prime Minister: Shelly Dove - head of project/editor/coordinator Associate Grand Piano: Clare Kwasniewski - editor/contributor Grand Piano: Julian Kwasniewski - graphics/editor/contributor Grease Pot Maloy Grand Vistas: Contributors Lane Bushmeyer Ana Kozinski
Alpha Samurai: Fiachra Rottinghaus Robert Northridge Grand BananaZar: C. A. Marple
Grander but less used Peter Kwasniewski the very patient formatter/editor
Table
of
contents
Assorted Poems by Various Persons………….………………….3 Art Gallery by Various Persons………………..……………………12 INTERESTING THINGS……….………………………….…………………...16 Mars: What Curiosity Found There……..……………………..…….18 The Lost Clan of the Volcano……………………………………………19 The Power of the Pack…………………………………………………….26 Micro Camera Tested……………………………….……………………..28 Live and Learn…………………………………………………………………31 Hounds of Hilarity……………………………………………………………38 Find the following Sentence from one of our articles: “The possibilities are amazing!”
My First Run By Robert T. Northridge
It loomed in front of me, my great flying machine
I was in the air
fires below me lit the place and “Bombs away�
and as my machine rumbled to a standstill
all around me glimmering in the darkness the red and green navigation lights.
the night swallowed me up and I soared over island lights
below me the waves rolled in the moonlight
I thanked my God that my heart had not stopped that night.
Unity
This will you always find
By Anatolia Kozinski As frothing foam clutches wave
They left themselves to follow’
Rushing through the closed gate
The broken, stumbling heart
As rider to stallion on sweeping plain
They left the merging marriage of love
Roll together in streaking flight
And unity of part
So darkness breeds night And night dead blindness The shadow of the great
Those creaking, booming, hollow things!
They cannot conquer us With love at our side
For them must we weep, For them we have suffered, in joy unknown
But they will always seek Sweet unity through bond Though they find it in dark places
None can escape His sheer blissful light None can slither out
Where chains whip in throngs All search for their other part
The voids in haloed light In unity tried to scorch our hearts
Even in dankest, clouded spaces
Though they wander into night
To grind them into stone
Light is always found
All reflect the order and unity of light
In unity to crush the life That flowers us into flame From whence is their shroud of hate From whence did it grow
Reflecting in its baneful lake His order and his throne
Though you may travel The darkest, crippled road
Snow Dance by C. A. Marple
Dancing, twisting, diving, twirling, Diamond whisper, crystal glister, Under, over, spiral slower, silent swirling. Dancing, diving, leaping, glittering Sparkle shower, bluish powder, Tiny fairies’ flurry flittering. Dancing, settling, sleeping, glimmering Ghostly beaches, delicate reaches, Silent world all shimmering.
Twilight by C. A. Marple Light fades quickly, twilight dim Envelopes all in still The silent watchman hurries home, Ore dappled, quiet, half-lit hill. Slow rising moon, the trees’ bare arms Half-hide behind knot fingers Perl diamond white, soft glowing orb Through velvet blue-grey lingers. Well blended canvas so far stretched In mellow blue and pale Clouds, rolling mountains, violet round, ‘Gainst twilit seas assail. Throw dusky shadows, dancing trees, A spider’s net fast shifting In calm green grasses dance their dances Slide one’s gazes, softly drifting. Cool, soothing night, the day retreating Hallowed in-between time glides Peaceful moment softly brushing Into the still and peaceful slides.
Cosmos by Julian Kwasniewski Writhing, turning, glowing beneath the stars singing kings upon the cosmic strings vaporize to the demise of the moon Singing, clashing, ringing pulsars splinter, nuclear winters over winter sowing vagrant stars Spinning, orbiting, flying wand’ ring planetoids beneath gypsy asteroids impact craters imprinting Jousting, dwindling, dying among the stars
Eighteen Faces of Water By Lane Bushmeyer
Sand-stroking ripples and stainless steel stipples, Dark pulsing mounds and dew-dusted ground, Broad marching swells and tinkling rain bells, Wind-shaven spray and slate-clouded days, Great glaciers rifting and pale fog banks drifting, Gold morning mirrors and icicle tears, Rivers frothing white and snow catching light, Cerulean springs and concentric rings, Soft meadow green and aquamarine, How often glimpsed but gone unseen.
Bi- Monthly Painting Challenge Paint the above photo in any medium (or mediums) and the winner will appear in the Winter issue of Interesting Things. Please submit all submissions in electronic form to The Prime Minister at sdove@fclsonline.org Limit of two submissions, please. Submissions must be sent by November 5.
Wandering Soul C. A. Marple Those who in silent, freezing straights do weep Not knowing yet their real heart's desire Blinded still by cursed Pride's full sweep, Self Centeredness the overwhelming pyre. Why, lost in darkness do you wander When thy fulfillment right before thee stands? Full, utter, blissful, purpose-ment surrender In gentle embraces of thy Maker's hands? On storm-tossed seas you splutter How long will this denial stand? How long your moaning hearts be hardened So far from home, the glorious Promised Land? A desolate wasteland stretches out before you Dark and cold with no true Hope in sight. This path is the path by you only chosen Which the LORD's great Love gave to you the right. The right, the right, in beautiful surrender Freely our hearts to join to the glorious King, Or ourselves to set in mute and dumb cast image Upon our hearts own throne - Oh hollow ring! But Love that is forced is no love at all And robotic love is hollow So He gave us the choice; He knew the fall But He thought it worth the sorrow. Man's soul can only be fulfilled By casting out the "I". True Love, unknowable enworded. Life for us begins right now, and keeps on going when we die.
Art gallery
Ana Kozinski modified the top image Until she got the bottom Bitmap Modified Image
“washing the rocks� by Julian Kwasniewski (watercolor)
untitled pen drawings by C. A. Marple
Interesting Things When cooled to -269 degrees Celsius, certain isotopes of helium become superfluids. In this state, helium behaves in a manner that defies gravity and surface tension. Affected only by its own inertia, it can creep over any surface without friction and is even capable of crawling out of a container over the rim.
During World War II, the Hungarian chemist George de Hevesy (1885-1966) saved the gold Nobel Prize medals of fellow chemists Max von Laue and James Franck. When the Germans invaded Denmark where de Hevesy worked at the Niels Bohr Institute, the scientists were forced to flee, but de Hevesy wanted to save the medals before leaving. Knowing that gold could not be taken out of the country and unable to find a safe hiding place in time, de Hevesy dissolved the medals in aqua regia, a mixture of nitric and hydrochloric acids, and placed the solution on a shelf in his laboratory before departing. After the war, he returned and discovered the solution undisturbed. He then separated the gold back out of the acid and sent it to the Nobel Society, which recast the medals and presented them back to von Laue and Franck. I’m Grease Pot Malloy excuse me ! ha ha
Comet ISON Comet ISON (C/2012 S1) is coming soon! It will cross the naked eye threshold around Halloween and will appear brightest before Christmas. The Astronomical community is greatly debating whether or not it will become a “Great Comet�, as it has the potential to become as bright as comet McNaught from 2007. Comet ISON should become visible to small telescopes by the end of October.
The paradoxical frog (Pseudo paradoxa) of South America becomes smaller during metamorphosis. The impressive tadpoles can be nearly ten inches long, but by the time they are fully grown frogs, they will have shrunk to 2.5 inches.
Mars: what Curiosity found there Written and Illustrated By Julian Kwasniewski
O
ne day Jimmy-Joe Martian of the South-East Impact Basin went for a ride on his Mars rover. He thought that he could explore the Jojo Been Ravine before dinner. So, he set out. It was not very far from the S-E impact where he lived. Only about 10 minutes as the rover drives. When he got there he tethered his mars rover to a rock. It could graze some solar energy while he was gone. He started down the ravine looking for interesting rocks. Soon he came to the bottom, for it was not a very deep ravine. Joe thought he would rest and eat the solar panel sandwiches his mother had packed for him. He took a bite, savoring the wires and resistors he liked so much. That was when he heard The Noise. It was a far off rumbling. He looked around, and saw a dot in the sky. It was approaching. Something fell off of it he watched as it hovered about 20 feet above the ground. Then a rover the size of a car lowered itself onto the ground. The thing that it had separated from suddenly flew away. The rover slowly revolved its camera mast. It blinked its camera eyes at Jimmy-Joe. Curiosity had found life in mars.
Lost Clan of the Volcano by Fiachra Rottinghaus with Illustrations by Julian Kwasniewski
Part 1: Gathering The great bronze dragon’s scales glinted in the firelight, and his eyes blazed with a mesmerizing black fire. He was Sunflame, called the Mace, greatest of the desert dragons. Behind him sat Queen Sahara, a slim desert dragon with amber eyes and a scarred muzzle. Before him, ranked along the sand dunes in the shadowy night, stood a hundred wiry desert fighting dragons with armored skulls and gleaming eyes. They had spiked plates around their budding antlers and viciously barbed tails. The huge dragon bellowed out into the night: “Long have we lived on the outskirts of the clans, been nomads and outcasts. Now we will take our places as the rulers of the dragon clans!” The nomads hissed and stomped in approval. “Who is your master?” roared the bronze dragon. “Sunflame the Mace!” The desert dragons responded with their strange, baying roars. Sahara slunk up to Sunflame and hissed softly, “Torkyn must be killed before the Fury ends, or your plan will fail!” Torkyn was the aging but hot-tempered Forest King, who had foiled many plots within the last twenty years- most of them started by the desert nomads. Sunflame nodded and hissed sharply into the darkness behind him. Three dragons emerged from the shadows between the dunes: a hulking dragon from the mountains, a long and spiny ocean dragon, and a third figure, that of a small plains dragon, who was longer-limbed and more graceful. Sunflame’s pleased purr became a menacing snarl as his arrow-shaped head darted toward the shadowy figures. “Where is the fourth?” he spat.
The plains dragon stepped forward. “Kalvero is no longer with us. He disappeared on the border of the Great Mountains, and we were unable to locate him.” Sunflame growled and spun, pacing off into the dunes. Sahara and the three other dragons followed at a safe distance. Meanwhile, on the mountain border, a great red dragon with golden antlers gazed out at the desert and turned away. As Kalvero began the climb to a cave he had discovered many moons before, he never looked back. … Deep in the forest, a young emerald green dragon with golden spines slunk through the undergrowth. Teek was nearly ten winters old and did much of the hunting for the hatchlings and their mothers, the nesters. She spotted a fawn flash between the leaves and leapt forwards. Too late, she saw that what she had mistaken for a deer was a sleek brown outclanner with velvety gold antlers. Teek skidded on the leafy forest floor, just avoiding the brown dragon. “Is this the land of the Forest King?” asked the stranger. A rough, claw-carved flint disk hung around his neck by a thin sinew, marking him as a neutral Traveler. Teek nodded abruptly but offered him a small smile as she left. The plains dragon’s ice-blue eyes flicked away quickly, almost nervously, and he darted into the trees. Teek assumed he had arrived for autumn in the woodlands. Travelers tended to spend different parts of the year in different territories. She knew that forest autumns were known to be especially beautiful- already most of the leaves were changed to rusty gold or bright orange. Finally Teek spotted a young doe a little smaller than she was. She crept along with her belly nearly brushing the ferns before springing with a powerful leap that took her within gripping distance of the deer’s throat. The doe shrieked sharply as the young dragon twisted and snapped its neck.
After dragging away the heavy carcass, Teek ate a few mouthfuls before taking the rest to the nesting mothers. Suddenly, the clash of antlers rang out through the woods, along with angry barks and snarls from the river. Teek peered through the tangle of gilded leaves in front of her and saw big, dark-scaled Ket grappling with Torchlight, who was lean and orange. A large-eyed female with indigo scales and crystalline silver wings was draped over the branches of a large oak watching them fight. The two males locked antlers and feinted, snapping and swiping at each other. During Fury-time, the primal instincts of the dragons bled through to the surface for the space of about a moon, resulting in raised tempers and frequent fights between the usually friendly males. Teek lost interest and heaved the rest of the deer over her shoulders to carry to the nursery. She circled another fight between her friend Embre and a spiky ocean dragon she had never seen before and supposed was new to the clan. Occasionally Torkyn would permit an outclanner to join the tribe, but it was very rare. The last occasion had been a young halfmountain dragon named Luna. When Teek reached the nursery glade, silvery Luna and her older brother Draenor were sitting at the edge of the trees. Draenor came visiting once or twice a year. Teek had always disliked his pale silver, shifty eyes. Stepping back from the dead doe, Teek watched as the six chicks of varying ages hurried up. The oldest three, Ivory, Copper, and Lief, the chicks of the Forest King, only took a few bites. “We ate a badger already!” Copper beamed. “Lief caught it!” Their mother, the blue female Tana, purred softly and folded her huge wing around them. “Do you want a story?” she asked. All of the chicks squeaked excitedly and piled around her. Luna and Teek sat back a little ways from the yipping chicks. Draenor had vanished.
“Long ago, there was a great mountain filled with fire, and there lived in it fierce silver dragons who could do great magic, not just little magic like dragons now can do. But with every power comes a cost… Once, a young prince called Firewing thought that he would join the Furyfighting in the mountains in order to impress the daughter of the Mountain King. But he used magic, and it went badly, killing both his rival and the female. We all know it is written on the Stone of Law that dragons may only kill in mortal combat, and so the prince was pursued back to the haven of Fire Mountain. The mountain dragons killed another volcano dragon, mistaking him for Firewing. Thus began the Fire War, as all the clans were caught in the deadly struggle. The Fire King Scorchstorm enlisted the help of the Desert mercenaries to guard the mountain, and the Forest and Ocean clans joined the Mountain clan. Finally, when the combined forces of the Mountain Alliance defeated the silver army and began to storm up the slopes of Fire Mountain, there was a great blast of ash and liquid fire and the sides of the mountain crumbled. Some say that it was another failure of the great magic, some say that the combined small magic shook down the mountain, and a few say that the mighty king Scorchstorm, in his anger and his shattered pride, threw down the mountain himself.” “I like the last one…” Teek murmured. Tana paused to look around at the waiting chicks and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I met one dragon, long ago, who said that the survivors of the Clan of the Volcano still live, shattered by their final magic, but still guarding the mountain, and that they left a prophecy telling of another great war, long in the future…” Tana chanted the ancient lines in a low, lilting hiss.
“When the High Queen meets the Mace, Under the desert sky, ‘Ware the dragon with eyes of night, Bring home a hero with scales of fire.
Who will find the scarred one? She will be the lightning-cloven, Forest heart and spines of gold, She will see what ice has spoken,
And will stand alone as the hero On the edge of the Fire Mountain Over stones that are red In the gathering dusk.
The legend is coming.”
Luna wrinkled her muzzle in confusion. “That part definitely wasn’t in the story before.” she growled. Teek just shrugged. Twilight crept over the woods. A cold wind whisked a few russet leaves from one of the great oaks overhead. As the two nesting mothers, Tana and Aliina, gathered their chicks, Teek
padded away and squeezed into a thorny thicket to get some sleep. Luna, who was slightly bigger, curled into the browning ferns nearby, piling dry leaves over her flanks and back. ‌ Far away, on the edge of the plains, Sunflame sharpened his antlers on a tall, twisted tree. Many wing-lengths away, rust-colored Sahara sat in the long, moonlit grass, watching. Finally, the huge bronze dragon loped slowly into the trees. Sahara gazed into the forest after him for a long, long time before turning and flying towards the desert. She would gather her forces. The plan was finally in action; Sunflame the Mace was in the forest.
To be continued‌
Power of the Pack: Wolf Behavior and Social Structure by Fiachra
Rottinghaus
Today wolves stream across the moonlit expanses of Hayden Valley in Yellowstone just as they did long ago, surrounding a bison, snapping at it to separate it from the herd, and bringing it down as it tries to flee. Wolves are highly tuned hunters with strong social instincts, but from these wild predators spread a controversy reaching back many decades as wolves and humans try to coexist. The grey wolves of North America are among the most well-known pack hunters or social predators. They have evolved to hunt prey by working together, making them efficient hunters in the wild but feared or even despised by humans for centuries when they sometimes kill livestock with the brutal efficiency of the pack. Some of the more obvious advantages to living in a pack are that young are almost always taken care of and protected while parents hunt, and they are more likely to have nourishment where a single parent would have failed. Another advantage is that pack hunters may take down prey many times larger than themselves, resulting in more food and better hunting efficiency. There are also disadvantages to pack living. While it is possible to defend a large amount of territory, more territory is necessary to sustain the pack. The same rule applies to prey animals: while larger animals may be preyed upon, fairly frequent kills are needed to support a large pack. Also, in some cases, weaker individuals in the pack may be crowded out or ostracized. Some of the earliest known examples of pack hunters were the prehistoric dire wolves (Canis dirus). The dire wolf was larger and bulkier than wolves today, with shorter legs and powerful jaws, and was probably a scavenger for much of its food, similar to modern hyenas. Coyotes, wolves, and other canid species are related to the dire wolf, but coyotes are thought to have evolved at around the same time as the dire wolf in North America, while wolves probably originated in Eurasia. Canids, especially wolves, are the most famous social predators. Wolf packs are tightly structured, with the breeding or alpha pair dominant. Usually only the alpha pair has the time or resources to rear pups, although other individuals may mate. The biggest or most aggressive wolves besides the alpha male and female are usually classed as beta wolves, which occasionally work as bodyguards and are closely related to the alpha pair.
The lowest ranked wolves are omega wolves, which guard the pups and are usually the last to eat after a kill. Wolves have a specific hunting strategy. They cut a weakened or small animal from its herd and surround it. They usually only attack a running target, so an animal that stands its ground against a wolf pack has higher chance of survival than one that turns and attempts to escape. In Wyoming the same pack hunting that works well against bison or elk can unfortunately be used against cattle or sheep, and while wolves do not discriminate between prey, humans do. Like other canids, wolves communicate with others by using vocalizations such as howls, barks, or whines and facial and body cues. A dominant wolf carries its tail high and wrinkles its face in a snarl if displeased by the actions of a lower ranking wolf. Submissive wolves flatten their ears and keep their tails between their legs, especially when frightened. If anxious, they may also roll over to expose their vulnerable underbellies. Many carnivorous animals use living in packs to help protect young and increase hunting efficiency. Others live in packs to defend territory and protect themselves from rival packs. On the whole, most canid species, as well as dolphins and carnivores of the savanna, use pack behaviors. Yellowstone’s grey wolves have difficulty remaining inside the park boundaries because a pack may need to range for many miles in search of prey. As a result, the wolves occasionally kill the livestock of the surrounding ranchers. This dramatically inflames the wolf controversy, which includes such difficulties as whether or not the grey wolf should be protected by the government. The grey wolf has now been removed from the endangered list, but the future of these pack predators remains to be seen..
Key Chain Camcorder : By
tested
Julian Kwasniewski
A
camera, the size and shape of a car key remote controller , capable of video and photo? This Item ( straight from James Bond ) can be bought on Amazon VERY cheaply. Our main use has been in model Rockets .The image quality is very good for the size. As the following image suggests: Details are clear although fine detail is not discernible. The focus ranges from about 5” to infinity. It also records goodish audio It is easy to use once the operation is mastered. The first one we got came with very hard to understand instructions as they were in “Engrish”. However, the second camera we bought came with the old as well as new, clear instructions. In our use on rockets we tape it directly to the rocker with packing tape. The camera withstands the typical accelerations, jolts and shocks a model rocket experience in flight. The camera is not indestructible – we have gone through 2 in the past 9 months. Not that we don’t give them a terrific beating. The last one we had stopped after the rocket it was on crashed (it dove from about 200 ft and stuck in the ground. The nose stopped so suddenly that the body continued on over it, shaving of the camera). I do think that if used for more sedate purposes it would hold up better. The size and weight of this camera means that it can have many fascinating uses such as the previously mentioned model rockets, and RC planes & cars.
The camera has a very hard black case made out of some sort of plastic and comes with a key chain ring. This camera provides unique views from otherwise inaccessible places. The possibilities are amazing! For more information about model rockets go to
Info: Product:808 Car Keys micro camera Price: 10$ +/- a few dollars Field of view: 60 degrees Length: 2 inches
NAR.org
Submissions All submissions on the subjects of Art, Science and writing are welcome. This includes articles on the above listed as well as works of art, photographs, poems, and short stories monologues etc. . All submissions must be in some electronic form.
Width: 1 Âź inches
Please submit to:
one dealer: Amazon
Shelly Dove at
other : needs SanDisk memory card 2gb,4gb,8gb
sdove@fclsonline.org
price : 7$ +/- a few dollars
The number of Issues of Interesting Things published will vary. there will be a min. of four issues, fall, winter, spring, and summer. the deadlines for each issue are as follows: fall: submit by September 1 winter: S. by Dec. 1 spring: S by Feb. 15 summer: S. by June 1
Live and Learn By C. A. Marple
M
y breath is coming hard and I am drenched in sweat. I hold as still as my trembling will allow, hoping that the ominously approaching footsteps won’t hear the tango of my heart. A gust of stinking, sooty breeze scratches my face. Unbidden, my mind for some unfathomable reason jumps back to that morning, only a few days ago, when I was lounging under that one fir tree with Zeke…
+++++
The sun was softly saturating the world outside our grove, the trees were singing quietly to themselves as the wind brushed through them, and (best of all) the jungle of school books, Algebra equations, and myriad pointless rules lay several kilometers away at the bottom of a distant hill. “Man, are you going to get it when you get back!” jibed Zeke, grinning at me with his crooked, toothy grimace. I snorted. “I don’t care at the moment. I’m fed up with my entire life.” “Oh come on,” Zeke drawled “your life isn’t all that that bad.” “That’s all you know” I said darkly, sitting up. “It’s all, ‘You haven’t gained enough experience,’ ‘Wait ‘til you get more experience,’ ‘no, your way won’t work, we old, wise ones know from experience’ ‘listen to your Grandfather, he has more experience than you do.’” “’Grandfather’- you mean your Granddad Jimmy?” “Heck no, Mum wouldn’t have me listening to him for all of Ali Baba’s gold. No, it’s always the Old One. But he never says much anyway.” Zeke didn’t say anything for a moment, and I could see his slippery brain was shifting gears. “So Johnny” he said casually – a little too casually- “have you given any thought to that proposition I made you?” I returned to my lounging, feigning indifference. “What proposition?”
“You know,” he pressed, pausing for dramatic effect, “Kiblanca.” I ran my tongue over the back of my newly straightened teeth. In truth, I had been thinking about it almost nonstop since he had first mentioned it to me. But I wasn’t about to let Zeke know that. “Rather a long way to walk” was all I said. I could see him scrutinizing me out of the corner of my eye. At last, with a regretful sigh, he stood. “Well Johnny,” he said candidly as he dusted off his jeans, “It seems to me that with your life being the way is, you would jump at the chance to get away. But, of course, I wouldn’t know. With any luck I’ll be leaving in a month.” He started to leave, then turned back partially as if he had just remembered something. “By the way, if you do consider it, you might want to talk it out with Granddad Jimmy. I think he might have some good insights for you. Well, see ya!” And with that, he was off. What an actor.
+++++
I stood on the edge, peering into the pit and trying to decide whether or not to risk it. It was a natural dip in the sandstone some yards in all directions which I had officially dubbed the Blood Stain Pit due to the suggestively red looking jagged stones at the bottom. The trick was to jump from the narrow, jutting ledge, grab the frayed, noose-like rope suspended above it, do a double flip and land on the other side over a patch of stone that looked like a scull and crossbones. I had been working up the courage for about a week now, and I had just about made up my mind to do it when a clear, matter-of-fact voice cut through my reverie. “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” I spun around and there, leaning on a nearby pine and calmly surveying me, was the Old One. I stiffened. “Why?” I asked, a hint of distain creeping into my voice, “because it’s a rule?” “No, though there’s a reason for it being so.” “Why then?” “Let’s just say that there happens to be a good chance that you’ll miss the rope due to a hidden jut in the ledge, go tumbling down to the rocks, and spend the next half month in bed for minor sprains and a nasty gash on the front part of your left forearm.”
I stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was joking. He looked serious. “With all due respect,” I said courteously, “buzz off.”
+++++
A few minutes later, my last thought as I lay prone with my left forearm bleeding like crazy and various other parts of my body painfully throbbing was “I am never doing this again.” Then I blacked out.
+++++
A few days later the swelling had subsided, but I still had to wear several bulky bandages and casts, and it had become apparent that I was going to have a nasty scar on my forearm. I was walking down the hall when, to my chagrin, I saw the Old One coming the other way. I immediately turned and tried to slink into a closet. “Johnny!” The peculiar way he uttered the word made me pause. He didn’t seem angry, or gloating, or… for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Assuming I was in for a lecture, I slumped against the wall and sullenly glared at the floor. To my surprise, however, the Old One said nothing. He lifted his light denim sleeve to reveal a long, jagged white scar stretching across his left forearm. Exactly where mine would be when it healed. With just a hint of a smile, the Old One winked and walked off, leaving me in a molasses pit of confusion.
+++++
Whenever I am unsure of something, the first thing I usually do is go talk it out with Granddad Jimmy. He’s my top confidant and advisor, and even more then that, Mum hates it when I talk to him. He has this old room far off in the very back of our house, and it’s always messy because he won’t clean and won’t let Mum clean for him. It’s also dark and smells like tobacco smoke and zucchini juice. Granddad Jimmy is very set in his ways. He’s in a wheelchair because both his legs have been broken several times, and they never really got set right. His arm is strangely twisted, he’s missing several fingers, and he spends most of his days staring out the window with a wild look in his eyes. Is there any wonder why I like him so much? “Run away to Kiblanca!” he mused in his scratchy, gravely voice. I sat perched on a splintery chair across from his wheelchair, trying not to cough on the overpowering stench of zucchini juice coming from him. A dreamy look had come into his unfocused, electric- blue eyes. “I ran away to Kiblanca when I was about your age. Six times. South Side, every time.” I started. South Side was exactly where Zeke wanted to go. “Isn’t that the place with all the gangs?” I asked as casually as I could. “Oh yes,” he said, warming to the topic, “that’s where I got my left leg broke, and m wallet stolen, and my nose broken, and-“ My mind had gone numb with overload by the time he had finished describing his experiences in South Side. “And you still went back?” “Every time.” I considered for a moment. “And you still think I should go there?” “Definitely.”
+++++
And now here I am, crouched in a mountainous jumble of old rotting crates. Zeke is gone. He brought the gang their prey, grabbed his fee, and disappeared. Leaving me like a helpless calf with a pack of wolves.
The ominous, pounding footsteps are getting closer… closer… closer! My mind is adrenaline-shot and as jumbled as these stinking crates. The only thought that is getting through clearly is that in just a moment, I am going to get beaten within an inch of my life. Maybe even further. I think I am going to make a run for it. My half conscious mind seems to sense that that’s a good idea. My bones trembling, I rise to a half crouch. The footsteps sound barely a few yards away. I take a deep breath, pull myself together, and“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” I spin around, narrowly missing a splintery beam of wood in the process. I am too stunned to speak. It’s the Old One. “What on earth-” I manage in a croaky, half-crazed whisper, but he but he puts a strong, calloused finger to his lips. “If you break for it that way,” he says softly, “you will run straight into their perimeter guard. I suggest you slip back between the crates ‘til you get to the high ground. From there it’s a short dash through the alley and out to the thoroughfare.” I immediately disregard his advice, mostly out of pure habit. After all, what could an old man know about gang fighting? With a quick, disdainfully superior look in his direction I start out of the crate to make my dash- and instantly scramble back as a round of 22 fire peppers the wood right next to my head. Breathing hard, I look back at him. He is still staring at me with those calm, penetrating blue eyes. His unworried ease lends me a bit of composure. “Lead on, Old One” I say. And I follow him.
+++++
The sun is just barely brushing the tops of the pines, tantalizing them, tickling them with his warm rays. We are several miles out of Kiblanca, the Old One and I. Neither of us has said anything. I am scratched, bleeding, dirty, exhausted, and one wallet short. He, other than a few scratches, is none the worse for wear. I am sneaking glances at him out of the corner of my eye. This is not the man I know. Or, thought I knew.
Eventually, I break the silence. “How did you know I was in Kiblanca?” Pause. “Jimmy’s tongue loosens considerably when I’m around.” “Was he in league with Zeke?” “No. Zeke fooled him just as much as he fooled you.” Pause. “How did you know what to do when we were holed up in those crates?” He doesn’t reply for a moment, and I begin to wonder if I’ve asked too far. But now, he speaks. “I was with Jimmy the first three times he ran away to Kiblanca.” He rolls his sleeve up to the shoulder and mutely shows me a fearsome collection of nasty-looking knobby scars. A testament to the agony he just saved me from. I ponder silently for a few minutes. There is only one thing left that I really don’t understand. “Grandfather,” I say tentatively, using the name for the very first time, “what is it? What’s the difference between you and Granddad Jimmy?” The Old One smiles briefly. “I learned” he says, simply. And I believe that is one of the wisest things I have ever heard.
The End
The hounds of hilarity A short story by Ana Kozinski (Based on a true story)
“Boy, this is last thing I want to do right now! Why did we have to bring these dogs? You want a relaxing summer, and what do you get? This-ugh-pff-ouch!”, I half muttered and half shouted to myself, as I tripped over a slippery step on the staircase outside. It was a cold, grey day. The looming sea behind me added to the grayness of it all, as well as accounting for wet air and wispy fog. I was grumpier than usual, being a teenager and going through a frustrating stage in life. I was left with the job of walking our family’s dogs, and had often wondered why this seemed a tedious task, as it could be exhilarating for a number of people. I had to admit though, that I was tired, the dogs were of the opposite temperament, and it was muddy and grimy out. Added to this was the fact that I had been very stressed lately, and couldn’t possibly see how walking two strong, crazy dogs through the mud and slosh would relieve me and cheer me up. I did love them, but sometimes, well sometimes one gets mad.
“You know God’ I said, “You just
conveniently placed me to do this stupid job, and I bet you’re going to have a great time watching the dogs walk me, or run me. Oh, and you also gave me weak armsnice one.” After my little rant, I went over to my pets, and waited for them to calm down their wild excitement about their mission: walking down the road and coming back. Lucy, a smart, slender, medium sized jet-black lab-mix, started jumping up and down frantically and after reaching a height of three feet, relaxed a little bit. Our rescue dog, Momo, who looked like three different dogs pieced together, took Lucy’s rope in his mouth and pulled her back to him. He finally ended up pulling her farther and farther away from me and then coming back, and going farther back, and them coming forward, until Lucy got rather irritated and jumped on him; After which they started play-fighting. I waited for about a minute before entering into the fray. They soon focused their attention on me and started jumping on me
fondly. I was being attacked from all sides-well, if you look at it from their point of view I was really being hugged from all sides. This thought made me feel a little bit calmer and I soon got the ropes untangled and started out down the road with Momo, after which I would come back and give Lucy a turn. I decided against my original plan after a while though, because I realized I would not have the stamina to do another round after Momo’s. I went back over to Lucy, who was now jumping even more frantically than before, and attached the other end of Momo’s leash to Lucy’s collar-trying to untangle the other leash was a task for Hercules. Thus, we set off. I probably could have stood there on my heels and let them drag me, but I decided against that. We got into a shady, overgrown, muddy area and I began to get grumpier. As I ranted to myself, the work-men in the trees started growling and ranting to themselves-I’m sure they were grumpy as well. Lucy picked a piece of grass, Momo chewed it out of her mouth, and I started to laugh a little. I had such funny dogs. We reached a grass road, with a holed fence on the right side leading out into a huge field with a forest at its border. Momo apparently loved that field, ducking through the holes and smelling the air emotionally-luckily, I had been strong enough to hold him back the many times he had tried to go through the hole. My mind wandered for a little bit, and I was jerked out of my daydream by a strong jerk on the arm; Momo was, yet again, trying to go through the hole. I absentmindedly pulled him back, but my hand slipped as he pulled, and I fell to the ground and disturbed the mud with a large splash. Attached to each other, Lucy and Momo escaped through hole and ran through the field like cheetahs. Covered in mud on the ground, I was angrier than ever, but as I watched the dogs, I broke out in laughter: for a while they had no idea why they kept being pulled another way, and they kept going in opposite directions till they knocked each other over. Though I felt rather worried, it was a wonderfully silly sight. I heard a small chuckle in the forest too-the workmen must have witnessed the scene. All the sudden I was completely cheered, confident beach and disappear, I heard geese quacking loudly, wings fluttering and a splash in the water. ‘Oh boy’ I said to myself, and took a back-way to the beach, finding Lucy’s bone on the way and grabbing it to use as bait. I came to the beach, and could barely pick out Lucy and Momo trying to swim together as they chased the geese in the water. The
kayakers, who unfortunately happened to be where the dogs were, were all knocked over by the hounds into the freezing water. Geese quacking, dogs barking, and kayakers shouting surrounded me as I walked over to the scene. I helped everybody out of the water and hurried back to our house to get some towels. As I came back out of the house, the dogs ran towards me and straight for a fence; As would be expected, Momo went on one side of a pole and Lucy on the other, and they both got jerked with surprised faces. Soon enough they found their way through and came back to me, wiggling their little tails excitedly. As I told my Grandma all about our little adventure, I told God in my head “Well, you did have a great time watching all us grumpy people learn a lesson about the fun of life.� Finis
Beer Bellies from Another Planet
Send your story to Shelly Dove at sdove@fclsonline.org
Some books (DVDs) we like are…. The Elements by Theadore Grey.(science) this is a very informative book about the elements. O.K., Sounds boring but do you want to know what Depleted Uranium is? Or maybe Astinine but there are only a few ounces of it in the world and those few ounces are not in one place for long. And then there’s normal carbon……… there are lots of Photos of the authors element collection and the book is very well written. In the Shadow of the Moon. DVD (science) for space nuts like me, this is a must have. Filled with great footage of the Apollo Program and Inter views with the astronauts it talks, well, about the moon landing missions. Boy, I can’t wait to see Neil Armstrong Eject out of the “flying bedstead” again. The Ranger’s Apprentice (Fantasy Series) by John Flanagan Teenager Will is selected to join an elite intelligence and fighting force that keeps the kingdom in order- the mysterious Rangers. His first mission is to help with the defeat of a rouge baron from the mountains, and the series escalates as the characters are separated and travel through Europe. Featuring unforgettable characters and adventure from the icebound lands of Skandia to the southern deserts of Arridi, the Ranger’s Apprentice is a perfect fiction page-turner set in medieval times. The False Prince by Jennifer A. Nielsen (Fantasy) An orphan boy named Sage with a mysterious past is recruited by a crafty nobleman to compete with two other boys in a challenge to decide who will impersonate the lost prince and take the throne. First book of the Ascendance Trilogy-followed by the Runaway King. Life in the Age of Chivalry by the Editors of Time; Life books, Alexandria, Virginia (historical) Written in a vivid, engaging style, it presents an overview of life in middle ages. With the perfect balance of informative, attractive pictures and clearly presented text, it covers everything from the privet life of kings and knights to the process of making manuscripts. (Signed) The Grand Piano