Table of Contents 4............... Abby Jenkins ’22 - Human Condition 5................ Myka Evenhouse ’22 - Analysis, Anxiety, and Lady of the Sea 6............... Keona Caraballo ’24 - I Don’t Like Beaches or Airplanes 7................ Lacey White ’24 - Fearful 8............... Libbie McNamee ’22 - Festive 9............... Isabelle Williams ’22 - Untitled 10.............. Isabelle Williams ’22 - Joyful 11.............. Liv Richter ’23 - The Blue Sapphire Heist 14.............. Lea Almahameed ’22 - Elated 15.............. Megan O’Donnell ’22 - Hopeful 16.............. Madelyn Low ’22 - Kaleidoscope Hallway and Outdoors 17.............. Grace Thomas ’23 - Midnight Murder on the Subway 19.............. Jasmine Abeid ’23 - Mood Board 20............. Mallory Nowicki ’22 - Humorous 21.............. Ella Sfeir ’25 - Lebanon 22............. Lacey White ’24 - Untitled 23............. Sam Malley ’25 - A Bird’s Song 24............. Keona Caraballo ’24 - My Drive Home 25............. Madelyn Low ’22 - Untitled 26............. Madelyn Low ’22 - Untitled 27.............. Myka Evenhouse ’22 - The Wind, Water, and Wire 28............. Eliza Gorek ’25 - When There Were Dragons 30............. Finley McNamee ’24 - Shakespeare 31.............. Lacey White ’24 - Untitled 32............. Lauren Shearer ’22 - Rosary Thoughts, Until Tomorrow, and inevitable sunrise 33............. Gabby Lehman ’22 - Lola 34............. Jasmine Abeid ’23 - First Nature and Second Nature 35............. Jasmine Abeid ’23 Green 36............. Jasmine Abeid ’23 - Logo 37.............. Emily Osborne ’22 - Zealous 38............. Anonymous - The Train 41.............. Sam Malley ’25 - Blinded by Winter’s Innocence 42............. Lacey White ’24 - Dog #1 43............. Lacey White ’24 - Dog # 2 44............. Sarah Hill ’23 - A Very Misadventurous Vacation 46 ............ Keona Caraballo '24 - Fire 47.............. Lacey White ’24 - Untitled 48............. G. Eink ’24 - Worth Fighting For
Credits Lauren Shearer ’22 - Editor Madelyn Low ’22 - Editor Front Cover - Art Club
Yasmine Samara ’23 - Editor Keona Caraballo ’24 - Editor
Mrs. Luli - Faculty Advisor Ms. Riedel - Faculty Advisor
The Human Condition by Abby Jenkins ’22
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Analysis
by Myka Evenhouse ’22 To say I over-analyze would be a criticism of the complexities in which my brain views the world dissecting every experience to the most minuscule particular in efforts to entertain my restless conscious in this mundane cycle of life
Anxiety
by Myka Evenhouse ’22 Her tragic flaw was her thoughts too many, too far, too fast stuck in the future and the past always the worst-case scenario because hopefulness was evil and her past defiled her present and her future was irrelevant and the world kept spinning as those thoughts kept winning and her dreams became less prevalent
Lady of the Sea by Myka Evenhouse ’22
They said I couldn’t love her She belongs to the sea As I wrapped my arms around her I said she belongs to me Then her body turned to water And she slipped into the sand Taking shape back in the ocean I stood staring on land The sea told me to leave her She was not my own Her eyes told me to follow Become immersed in the unknown Magnificat Literary and Art Magazine | 5
I Don’t Like Beaches or Airplanes by Keona Caraballo ’24 A perfect day to unwind. The sand was cool under my feet, the sky was covered in a cloudy blanket but still bright, and the ocean was loudly crashing in waves in front of me. I was drifting from one activity to the next to keep my mind occupied. Whether it was walking, reading, swimming, or even people-watching, I was enjoying my time near the beach. I put on some music and closed my eyes. After a while they fluttered back open because I found that my music had grown quieter for whatever reason. I got up and put the volume up louder but once again the music grew quiet. I turned off my speaker altogether in frustration. My frustration turned to curiosity as a rumbling emerged from the new silence and it was coming from all directions. I ventured from underneath my umbrella and tried to find where the rumbling was coming from. I looked up to observe but found nothing because of the thick clouds. Everything else seemed normal in my eyes, at least. Within seconds that changed. The rumbling grew to a deafening roar which caused everyone to wonderingly look around for the source just as I had. The clouds parted and the nose of a plane came barreling through. A broken wing and an engine on fire broke through the clouds next. The plane was attempting to land in the sea but the plane was crashing fast and was headed nose-first into the sand. People and sea birds alike were desperately trying to flee the disaster. Few succeeded. The
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rest were caught under the flying inferno squawking and screaming until they could no longer plead for help. When the entire plane landed, flames billowed out to lick the bodies of the fleeing people who hadn’t been caught under the plane. Petrified and stuck to the sand in horror, I watched and listened as hundreds of people pounded on their window in their final desperate attempt at survival. It was as rhythmic and chaotic as a drumming circle. Some of the passengers found a tear in the metal bird and streamed out. The sky grew dark as the smoke from inside of the plane fled the scene as well. The smell that settled around the shore was fierce, strong, unique, and bitter. Soon sirens flooded the scene. Good thing somebody called 911 because I was paralyzed so fiercely to my spot that I couldn’t call anyone. The first responders saved those that they could and tended to those in need. The curious wandered to the scene only to be pushed away while others continued to work. I, on the other hand, ran. After my paralyzed body allowed me to move I ran to my car. Then I drove to my house to call my loved ones and tell them that I was alright. I had nightmares for weeks. I looked up from my cup of coffee at my friend, who had wide eyes, and I said, “ So that’s why I don’t like going on airplanes or to beaches anymore.” My friend sipped her own coffee and averted her eyes from me, “Wow,” she whispered not knowing what else to say.
Fearful
by Lacey White ’24
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Festive by Libbie McNamee ’22 The sense that Christmas is coming always surfaces among shining events. A family of 10, cousins, aunts, uncles, siblings, moms, dads, grandparents are all in one place. At the end of November, turkeys and pies still hang in the air while Christmas music creeps into the radio set. The kids run to the entrance, jumping and screaming through yet another sugar rush. They see the lights, shiny rainbow bulbs glimmering in scenes of reindeers and candy canes and snowflakes. Decorated trees create colorful towers whose lights blink along with music in a duet. The paths are winding, Each point to different twinkling worlds. Everyone takes their time, Wandering through the scenes with a sense of contentment covering them like a blanket. Days after, Christmas lights lining rooftops become more noticeable. Dark nights become radiant with snow gleaming as it falls in front of street lights. These are comforts for each one to covet. Warm fires and the smell of heartfelt meals and the sounds of boisterous families make the houses lining the streets glow with Christmas.
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Untitled by Isabelle Williams ’22
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Joyful
by Isabelle Williams ’22 The gusty gale carries my seed through the dancing wind; I reverberate in the freedom before I must joyfully rest for the new year. Free, bright-eyed, promising, and young my roots pinned Like pins into the ground, as I observed my surrounding peers. Life has begun. Many months pass, so dark and quiet, but the sun came out and that made me O so cheery. I feel the warmth on my leaves as I stand adjacent to the towering oaks. I see the flowers bloom, and the colors are exquisite: pink, white, yellow, never are they dreary. I embrace the warm waters of youth that help me twinkle and grow— Life is beautiful. My site is now a stronghold, And my sedentary branches sway While I observe the enigmas of happiness unfold. Proposals, picnics, and dates; I watch the jubilant humans dance under my shade. Life is breathtaking. Hundreds of years I have stood strong; My trunk grew larger with the memories I massed Grasping the infinite lessons the humans learned, that I knew all along. My time is finite, but my legacy runs deep. Life is buoyant. This occasion is not sad, purely merry; Nature is beautiful as balance is restored. Alas, I have finally returned home.
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The Blue Sapphire Heist by Liv Richter ’23 It was late on a Friday night in New York City. Detective Lucy Dane was on her way to catch the 10:30 AC night train to Maine. Her boss, Mr. Fletcher, called her in to immediately be sent out with two of her fellow detectives, James Morgan and Veronica Davis, to step in on a jewelry robbery. She had just been released from a previous case, which had just been solved and closed off. Lucy felt tired from the long day and was ready to return home to her daughter. However, that’s not how it worked in the life of a detective. Lucy brushed past these thoughts and briefly read the files as she walked along the sidewalk. A serious jewelry heist had been committed in the past sixteen hours, the main item stolen being a five hundred million dollar sapphire necklace. The necklace was stolen from the Heights Museum in New York City around 6:00 A.M. Lead investigators were certain that the necklace was being sent north for further exchange, so Lucy and her partners were being sent to follow their tracks. Lucy walked into the train station, hoping to find James and Veronica before boarding the train. Fifteen minutes later, she was settled and seated at a table in the train carriage. Lucy started to unpack her bag when someone hovered over her, and she looked up to see Veronica. They both smiled and exchanged a quick greeting before getting into the case details. Veronica breathed out, “So what are we working with?” Lucy shuffled the papers around, “Jewelry heist. Leads suggest that the goods are being sent north. Probably to be auctioned off for much higher than its worth.” Before the conversation continued the women were approached by a young
man wearing a dark hat and trench coat. They were greeted by James Morgan as he slipped into the table seating next to Veronica. He took off his hat and said, “We were promised a break after the past two weeks of working nonstop. I haven’t gotten a good night of sleep in days.” “I know! I was supposed to be traveling this weekend, but that was obviously canceled. I don’t think this case will take too long,” said Veronica. “Hopefully you’re right. Anyway, I’m caught up on the case. I don’t think the necklace could have gone far if it was only taken early this morning. I was given some evidence back at the station from the scene to look over and we have security footage to review.” James pulled out a laptop, along with a plastic bag containing evidence left at the crime scene. The bag contained a few folded scraps of paper with writing on them. “How could they leave so much paper behind for us to find?” asked Veronica. “Must have been in too much of a rush,” James replied, as he opened up his computer. “Yes, but a rush to where? Transcripts are stating that they don’t know where the robbers disappeared after taking the necklace. We need to rewatch this security footage of when it was taken at the museum,” Lucy added. James typed on his computer then turned it to display the screen to the three of them. The footage started to play and Lucy noted the robbers did not try to cover up or cut the security cameras before continuing their crime. The thieves were swift in opening the protective boxing and removing the necklace. As soon as the necklace was Magnificat Literary and Art Magazine | 11
placed into their bag they were off and walking away. The camera cut from one view to another as they moved rooms in the museum. They turned one more corner and the next viewpoint was shown, but they were gone. “Where could they have disappeared to? There was no other place to go after turning that corner,” said Lucy. “Well there had to have been another exit out,” James replied. The three sat in silence for a minute when Veronica spoke up, “Or maybe they created one. The prior footage shows them entering the museum through the second floor, but the necklace was on the first. They obviously didn’t go back the way they came, so they must have opened an exit in the blind spot of the camera.” “That makes sense. If they wanted to go up they would have just gone the way they initially came. So that means they must have gone down and opened a passage through the floor. But what would that lead to?” James added. Veronica looked up quickly and blurted out, “The lower platforms of the train station, they’re under the museum. Lucy, call in the station and ask for the security footage of all platforms. They had to have escaped through there.” A few minutes passed until the footage was finally sent over. After loading the footage onto the screen, James sped up the video and they all watched carefully. No one was seen dropping out of the ceiling, but two men came out of the station bathroom. Lucy interrupted, “Wait, we never saw them go into the bathroom. They only came out.” James zoomed in on the two men and rewound the video. “This has to be them and look at the time on the footage. It’s 6:12 A.M. that is just a few minutes after the robbery,” 12 | Spring 2022
said Veronica. The three continued to watch and expected the men to leave the train platform, but they never did. They are seen walking around the platforms or sitting in the same spot on the benches. “They’re just wandering around and it looks like they stayed for hours,” said James. “Yes, but they disappear somewhere after a few hours. Maybe they hopped on one of the trains?” Veronica suggested. “Maybe they did just that. Hand me the scrap paper they left behind. It could have something to do with this,” stated James. Lucy passed the folded paper to James and he opened it. A mix of letters and numbers was written in black ink. It read P:AC 03:10 ME. He set it on the table and they all glanced at it. “It must be written in code. Maybe it will spell out the train they took,” said Veronica. Lucy slid the paper closer to herself. She always loved cracking different codes and puzzles during cases. Lucy first thought about the last place the thieves were seen. “The train station platforms,” thought Lucy. She connected relations between what was known and what was written on the paper. “I’m thinking the first part is standing for the train platform because we know there is one named AC. It is the same train platform used to board our train. Then ME stands for Maine, so maybe we are sharing a destination with them.” Veronica added in, “What about 03:10? It must mean the time, but I did not see any 3:10 trains to Maine. I checked the whole schedule when my ticket was sent. The only other time with 3,1,0 was our train.” They all sat still looking back and forth
at each other. James leaned in and whispered, “I think we all know what this information means. We need to search all the carts for our suspects.” Both women nodded and they all stood up from their seats. Lucy and Veronica turned toward the left carts while James headed to the carts on the right. The girls passed through two train carts while being cautious of their surroundings and fellow passengers. They continued through an empty carriage when Veronica heard a creak under her feet. The two looked down onto a rug below them. Lucy lifted it up to find the outline of a trap door on the floor. She and Veronica shared a glance before she lifted the latch of the door to reveal a black bag. Veronica pulled the bag out and opened it to reveal one sparkly sapphire necklace. The two shared a smile when Lucy asked, “If we have the necklace, where are the robbers? Are they on the train?” Right then James walked through the carriage door with two men in handcuffs. “I found these two a few carts back and overheard their entire conversation. Our robbers were talking about the auction and their plan to sell the necklace. I recorded the whole thing for evidence of their confession,” James said with a smug smile. “Anything to say for yourselves?” asked Veronica. The two robbers silently looked down in defeat. “That’s what we thought,” remarked
Lucy. The train was ordered for an immediate stop at the next upcoming station to release the detectives and their perpetrators. The next train was caught to New York City, and the three prepared for the short train ride home. When they finally arrived in the city, crowds welcomed them onto the platform. The robbers were escorted to jail as soon as they stepped off the train. Following behind them, Lucy handed the bag of valuable jewels to her boss, Mr. Fletcher. The bag was then handed over to a police officer for the necklace to be returned to the Heights Museum. Mr. Fletcher approached them, “Amazing work, detectives. I’m sorry to have called you into this so late, but I needed my best at work. And like always, you pulled it off efficiently and successfully. Now return home and follow my orders of resting!” Mr. Fletcher turned from his detectives and left them standing on the platform. James turned towards the stairs and yelled back at the girls, “See you two Monday morning!” Lucy and Veronica smiled back at him. “See you then James!” Lucy yelled. The women walked together towards the stairs in the opposite direction. When they reached the top of the sidewalk, they said their goodbyes and departed. Each detective headed their separate ways home with the warm satisfaction of yet another successfully solved case.
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Elated by Lea Almahameed ’22 I see so many stars in the sky that it would take years to count. The night is clearer than it was yesterday. Grass pokes my legs, half-covered by our blanket. Strawberries lounge in their bowl, Our lips red from the color. My prized possession sits in my lap; We fight over who gets to use it first. The moon is so big I can reach out and touch it. The smell of strawberries float through my nose With summer air whispering through my hair, We look through the scope: We are dancing on the rings of Saturn Sledding down the craters of the Moon We are running on the dunes of Mars Playing hopscotch on Venus We are rolling down the hills of Uranus Leap-frogging on Mercury We are swimming in the eye of Jupiter Flying through the clouds of Neptune Using the sun as our light and the stars as our guide, Our elation accompanies us through the galaxies Every summer night
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Hopeful by Megan O’Donnell ’22 I walk through the waste-filled forest I swim through the contaminated seas I breathe in the polluted air A world covered in disease All of a sudden I perceive Light emerging from the dark Maybe there is hope On which I can embark The garbage is removed The seas all turn to blue The air is fresh and clean However, still much left to do This small step taken Is known as just the start For a whole world of possibilities lie ahead In which I will impart I listen to the birds singing So cheerful in delight For maybe one day Everything will be alright
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Kaleidoscope Hallway by Madelyn Low ’22
Outdoors by Madelyn Low ’22
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Midnight Murder on the Subway by Grace Thomas ’23
Lyla sat at her desk, staring at the clock, which read 10:57 p.m. Three minutes to go, she thought to herself. It had been a long day of going on coffee runs and delivering paperwork to different desks. When she started this summer internship at Gold Coast Magazine, she thought she would at least be given some sort of opportunity to write; however, it had been almost six weeks and she still had not gotten a chance. Finally, the clock struck 11 p.m. and she got up and made her way out of the building. As she walked out onto the crowded sidewalks of New York, Lyla began to hear thunder and it started to pour. She quickly made her way to the subway station and sat down on a bench waiting for the subway to arrive. As she sat waiting for the subway, Lyla took out her notebook and began to write about the people and things around her. She often used this technique when out in public with the intention of bettering her writing. One of her professors often said that writing down observations and paying attention to the small details can determine the difference between a good writer and a great one. Most writers often miss the small details because they seem insignificant; yet, the smallest detail can end up being the most important. There weren’t many people out at this hour so it was easy to find things to focus on to write. Lyla came across a small group of friends, two boys and a girl, so she decided to start writing. They looked about 17-18 years old and were laughing. The girl had blonde hair and was wearing a cropped shirt and some jeans. The two boys were wearing football sweatshirts and shorts. One boy was taller than the other and seemed more confident. He was holding hands with the blonde girl and had light brown hair. The shorter boy had dark hair and was wearing a green band around his wrist. The taller boy said something to the girl and began to laugh, but the other boy looked a little upset and uncomfortable. Before Lyla could write anything else down she heard the subway coming, so she gathered up her stuff and
started walking. A few minutes after she got on the subway, the lights began to flicker and the subway started to come to a stop. There was an announcement over the speaker that said the city was losing power and the subway might be stalled for a few minutes. Right as the announcement ended, the lights went off. After about two minutes of sitting in darkness the backup lights turned on and everything seemed fine, until a loud scream came from the far end of the subway. “Someone help! Please!” Lyla turned her attention to the screams. It was the blonde girl from the station and on the floor next to her laid the taller boy, blood coming from his head. He was dead, murdered. Nobody knew what to do and the subway still wasn’t moving. There were people screaming and crying, and trying to call 911, but there was no service and their calls were not going through. This can’t be happening, Lyla thought to herself. If this boy was truly murdered, then the killer was still on the train and who knows what they might do next. Then, all of a sudden, she got up without thinking and walked over to the body. Lyla began to take charge and started talking to the other people on the train. She figured that she could not only solve this mystery but also write a great first-hand article about this event. She figured that if the Gold Coast Magazine would not give her a story to write, she would find her own, and this was it. Lyla made her way around the train asking everyone what they saw or if they heard anything. Most of them responded saying they knew nothing, but a few of them claimed to hear a lot of restless movement and a loud bang coming from the back train while the lights were off. Lyla then began to look at the body. The boy looked as though he had been hit in the back of the head, which caused all of the bleeding. There were also scratch marks across his hand and leg. Lyla recorded her observations in her notebook and Magnificat Literary and Art Magazine | 17
decided to talk to the blonde girl and see if she could find out any other clues. “Hi, my name is Lyla and I was wondering if you could answer some questions.” “Are you a police officer or some type of detective?” “Not exactly, but I am just trying to figure out what happened. Could you at least tell me your name?” “I’m Reece and my boyfriend Matt was the one that was murdered.” “I’m so sorry for what happened, but I was wondering if you heard or saw anything that could be useful to find out what happened?” “All I remember is that I got up and tried to find a spot with cell service so I could call my mom and tell her what was happening, and when I got back the lights turned back on and that was when I saw Matt.” “Okay. Thank you for your time.” Lyla began to walk away when she saw the other boy sitting on the opposite side of the train. She slowly walked over to him and asked him a few questions. The boy said his name was Ben and that Matt was his best friend. He said that Matt got up to make sure Reece was okay and never made it back to their seats. Lyla noticed that Matt was very nervous and was shaking a little. She decided it was best to leave him alone but felt that there was something off about him. She took a seat and began flipping through her notebook. While reading all the previous observations she wrote down, she realized that Matt was no longer wearing his green band on his wrist. Lyla got up and walked over towards the body. She slowly scanned the area that the body was in and out of the corner of her eye she saw it. The green band was under one of the seats, broken and covered in blood. She walked back over to Reece and started asking her more questions; however, this time they were about Ben. Lyla learned that Matt and Ben had been best friends for years, but for the past few years, Matt began to outshine Ben in everything. Whether it was sports or school, Ben was always seen as Matt’s shadow. Ben was now Lyla's lead suspect. He had a motive and his wristband was a clue; however, she needed to find 18 | Spring 2022
proof that it really was him. She began to study Ben and his behavior. He was comforting Reece and seemed upset, yet there was a strange look on his face and he almost seemed relieved. Lyla slowly inched her way over to Ben and Reece and discovered a small hole in Ben's sweatshirt. She hadn’t noticed it before but he looked a little messy. His hair was ruffled and he looked as though he had been sweating. The closer Lyla got to Ben the more she discovered, until finally she saw his hands. His nails had blood on them. A millon questions flooded Lyla’s mind: Was he really the murder? Was he actually capable of murdering his so-called best friend? What drove him to do this? Lyla had all the proof she needed, and she wasn’t going to stop until Ben confessed. Lyla walked over to Ben and asked if she could ask him a few more questions. It took some convincing, but he finally agreed to talk to her in private. Lyla started off by asking about Matt and his friendship and slowly began to grill him with questions. Ben started to get a little flustered and Lyla knew that he was close to messing up his story. The faster she asked the questions, the more he began to stutter, until all of a sudden he cracked. “How did it make you feel living in Matt's shadow?” That was the last question Lyla asked him. “I don’t understand why everyone was so obsessed with him. He got everything I wanted and everything I deserved. He took my starting position on the team away from me, took credit for all the work I helped him with, and somehow managed to become the most popular guy at school, but he would have been nothing without me. So I had to show him who the smarter, stronger, and ultimately better guy was. Me!” He screamed. “So you killed him?” “There was no other way to prove my superiority. I couldn’t take it anymore. Everyone looked down on me all of those years, everyone thought he was better than me. He didn’t deserve any of it.” That was all Lyla needed to hear. Ben turned around to see everyone staring at him. His
screaming brought everyone to Lyla and him and they all heard his confession. A few of the passengers on the subway made sure that Ben didn’t move until the police got there. They took him into custody and Lyla started writing her story. The next morning, the incident was all over the news. Witnesses and reporters were calling Lyla a hero. That afternoon she walked into the Gold Coast Magazine building and went straight to the
editor’s desk. She handed him the stack of papers and said that if he didn’t give her a chance and publish her story, she would find a magazine that would. After reading her story, the editor said that her article would be on the front cover and offered her a job right there on the spot. Not only was Lyla a hero and helped solve a murder, but she also got her dream job and couldn’t be any happier.
Mood Board by Jasmine Abeid ’23
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Humorous by Mallory Nowicki ’22 Laughter. An expression of utmost delight, The different types, the myriad of tones. Contagious laughter: the greatest infection. A giggle travels like a wavelength, Across a room it dances, Decorating the faces of closest companions intertwined in hilarious harmony. Polite laughter, living eternally in elevators and passing hallway exchanges, A programmed, robotic response to reveal our humanity. Laughing until you cry. There is comfort in the uncontrollable. Stomachs ache and eyes water: this time, for the best of reasons. The rush of serotonin, the sounds of joy, The kind of reactions dad jokes wish they received. Uncomfortable laughter, what we beg to fill the deafening silence. It can get us into trouble, A miracle remedy for our stress and anxiety. The “lols” and “hahas” that light up on phone screens, Perhaps a sign of our modern age. The most physical of reactions can be expressed by the click of buttons from distances away. Laughter lives in the ordinary--in all of our exchanges. The full gamut of emotions we feel humor in, The happy, the sad, the simplistic nature of life. Isn’t that funny?
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Lebanon by Ella Sfeir ’25 The place I call home. For it is known As a unique country, With a rich history. The country is quiet, Villages scattered through sleeping giants, With slippery slopes, During the winter snow. A fighter, A survivor, As it tries to fall apart, Together it is brought. No matter how far, It remains in my heart, For it is my beautiful home, And will forever be so.
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Untitled by Lacey White ’24
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A Bird’s Song by Sam Malley ’25 In many ways, a bird can be seen as a symbol of many things; of peace, of justice, of freedom...of hope. Hope’s song is endless like that of a bird’s song. Hope is a song that we all sing...most of the time we don’t even realize that we are singing it at all. We all sing the song of hope whenever we are in a place of need for hope. It’s a silent song, one that no one has ever taught us the words to, yet we know them all by heart. The song of hope is endless because all throughout our life to the point of death, we are always going to be in a place of need for hope. We sing the song of hope in the back of our minds everywhere we go. We sing it when we are sad, we sing it when we are happy, and we will sing it when we die. It is a never ending cycle. The song of hope will never cease to end and our voices will still find ways of singing it, even when the hopeless try to rip our voice boxes out from our throats. Every little thing about a bird symbolizes hope. The way it flies without fear, the way it feeds its young, but most of all...its warmth. A bird keeps us warm in many ways that most have no knowledge of. A bird keeps us all individually warm in different ways. The homeless see a stray feather of a bird and might hold onto the feather for warmth while in the harsh and brutal cold. A child might see a bird in the sky and feel internally warm due to the inspiration it is pouring out into the child’s dull mind and heart. A young infant might feel the warmth of the stuffed bird that she is clutching in her pudgy little fingers as she sleeps. An old man near his death might see a painting of a bird that he created when he was just a young man and become moved to tears as old memories from his radical youth years come flooding back to him, filling his decaying body with a warmth that he had never felt before. A seasoned hunter feels the warmth of a bird as he drapes its limp, lifeless body that he had freshly slaughtered and puts the bird over his back in an attempt to keep himself warm. Everything in this world: from the walking, talking stick figures roaming the once barren earth, to the erie crow, bird of death...are all connected.
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My Drive Home by Keona Caraballo ’24
My vision was blurred and it was growing increasingly concerning. The road ahead of me was seemingly neverending; the lines on the road were being run over by my slate grey run-down car and were doubling with my faulty vision. The street lights were hundreds of yards apart while illuminating very little causing my urge to fall asleep to grow. At some point, it crossed my mind to pull over, take a small break, then continue on my way. Just as I was about to pull over I remembered my promise, “Don’t worry Ma, I’ll be there as fast as I can. I’ll leave right after you hang up with me. I promise I’ll be there,” I told my mom on the phone the day before. My father had fallen ill and my mom needed extra help around the house. I was currently living in Chicago for work and my family lived in Portland, Oregon. My mom needed my support and the airspace in the U.S. was closed because of multiple similar UFO sightings. Probably just the Soviets if you ask me. So I was currently making the thirty-hour drive back home to take care of my little siblings and my frantic mother. I popped some gum into my mouth and turned on my radio to avoid my eyes from closing on their own. The road jostled my car gently causing my legs to grow slightly numb. The solitude in my car that I faced and dealt with for a while now caused an out-of-body experience that was hard to explain so I darted my eyes from the road to each of my mirrors. It helped my brain stay somewhat alert. After doing this for a while I noticed that the street lights behind me weren’t there anymore. I shook my head and pulled over. That was the last straw, I needed to sleep! I couldn’t keep going if I was starting 24 | Spring 2022
to hallucinate. I stepped out of my car and looked behind me to see the lights back on and to stretch before I hit the hay. I was startled to see the darkness once again. I looked up to search for the stars. I was relieved to find a plethora of shimmering, smiling stars but among them were massive, foggy eyes glaring down at me. The eyes belonged to an impossibly huge entity that was slouched over and watched me carefully and curiously. Its face was dark grey with no features other than its eyes. Its body was clothed in a sheet of black fabric that flowed slightly behind it with the wind. I ran to my car and slammed the gas vehemently and sped to the closest exit so I could find somewhere to use a phone and call someone for help. Surely somebody will believe me. When I found an exit, I flew to the nearest building that was open at the hour (which happened to be an empty diner) and frantically begged for a phone but hesitated in grabbing the phone. Who would believe me? The waitress with wide and concerned eyes set down their phone and asked, “What’s the matter hon? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I sat down at the table in front of her and muttered, “I don’t know what I saw,” I continued to tell the bright-eyed waitress what I saw as I thought of who to call. Afterward, I grabbed the phone with my clammy and sweat-stricken hands still hesitating to call someone. The waitress herself ripped the phone from my hands and dialed the police herself. Soon the police had swarmed the diner and after I retold my story once again, they shook their heads and sat me in their car. I begged the police
to believe me but they turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to my pleas. The entity had disappeared leaving me with no proof and looking crazy. I was taken to the police station where I was neglected until a heavy-set man with “FBI” in bright yellow letters across the
back of his jacket approached me and told me, “Come with me. We have an investigation to start.” I looked up at his roughly shaven face in disbelief, “You believe me?” “I do. Now I won’t repeat myself, we have work to do.”
Untitled by Madelyn Low ’22
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Untitled by Madelyn Low ’22 26 | Spring 2022
The Wind, Water, and Wire by Myka Evenhouse ’22
The quiet is when the noise gets the loudest when that voice gets the proudest I cover my ears but it echoes in here distractions drown its droning silence amplifies its groaning so I close my eyes, I’m standing over water blue a familiar sight but the angle new walking on a wire over a waterfall the wind blows strong and I can’t hear the call the call to stop resisting, persisting the call to stop going, stop growing I see the other side of the line I see there, peace and hope and light I see that getting there will take time the winds cease and the ringing returns it tells me to stop and give in it tells me to stop and let it win I tell it to stop but it won’t listen I look down and see the water glisten the voice calls me into the roaring water the voice without wind gets stronger but the wind told me to resist the wind told me to persist the wind told me to keep growing the wind told me I have to keep going
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When There Were Dragons by Eliza Gorek ’25
When there were dragons, there was war. The legends and the myths all say so. There are hundreds of stories of dragons and the wonder and horror they carry. But none are as known as the Thousand Year War. This story is known throughout the kingdom of Alisk. It’s a tale of strife, chaos, and myth. It has never been proven to have happened, yet almost everyone believes the story to be true. This myth belongs to the dragons. It is their story to tell. This tale belongs to the humans. It is our story to tell as well. Most importantly, this story belongs to the wild: to the biggest forest, to the deepest sea, and to the creatures, who bear the markings of cursed blessings. The Thousand Year War has spread through even the barest of deserts; you can hear the reeds whispering the solemn words as the wind blows and mountains sing the tunes of the olden songs, which are forbidden from the minds of the youth. A cruel hierarchy forbade the songs of our ancestors and stopped the spring of tradition, but the legend of dragons still exists. A flame cannot be extinguished with a drop of water. There are those who secretly tell the tales, in a deserted alleyway or deep in the forest. If you know who to talk to, you may have a slim chance of hearing the wonders of the old world. The old world was one worth living for. Songs could be sung without the worry of treason and stories were told every night to the little minds, who longed to hear and know the ways of our elders. There were no walls keeping humanity in and no laws preventing adventure and life. The mountains were the tallest you’d ever seen and oceans deeper than one 28 | Spring 2022
could imagine. The forest held secrets that mankind could only wish to know one day. Wild horses ran alongside wind spirits and untamed cats held the power of the gods. You were free to run through the world without a care. You could climb these snow-capped mountains and swim in the shimmering waters of the ocean. You could run free with the horses, even riding bareback on some. On some nights, in the woods, if you were lucky, you could hear the roars and snarls of a wildcat killing its prey. The world before this one was made of bliss, laughter, and wilderness. But now, there are plenty of minds that would prefer death over a cold-hearted hierarchy. The king who rules this land is cold and cruel and untrusting. They say that he can put fear into the hearts of any he looks at. Most people believe them. He is a king with iron in place of his heart and emptiness in place of his soul. He built a wall around the kingdom’s limits and sealed out any sense of joy or happiness. You can no longer climb to the tip of the mountain and sing praises to the wilderness. You can no longer swim to the shallows of the ocean and collect pearl-colored seashells. The horses do not trust mankind and no longer allow you to run with them and the wildcats attack any man who gœs into the forest. This world is made from the screams of children that you hear in the night and the maniacal laughter from the dictatorship of hatred. The gods are gone; they have left us in this horrid place. They were never physical, or maybe they were. If they ever did have a physical form, no one was present to witness. They were purely spirits that could be found anywhere you looked. They were the wind that swayed
the branches of tall trees and the faint sound of running water from the stream that ran North. The first was Alka, goddess of love. She was kind to others and kinder to herself. Her heart was as big as the world. It was like glass. Fragile and easy to break, yet sturdy and tough. She was one most envied for her beauty. Silky light brown hair ran down her back and her face was round. Her eyes were always changing color, from a deep blue to a light pink to a forest green. Alka had more patience than anyone could have known. She could wait forever. The next was Valrin. He was the god of anger and pain. Legend says that when he was mad at a mortal, that mortal would feel pain more intensely over the duration of three days, and on the fourth day, they would die. He was most revered in war; no one wanted to make him mad. Dark brown locks hung over his eyes, so you couldn’t see the brilliant red in them. However, underneath the look of intensity and horror, there was happiness and softness, like the eye of a storm. A deathly calm. Another was Dolux; the god of death and demise and known as Bringer of Night. He was more so a peaceful god, one who was not easily tempered but reverenced all the same. A god of death is not a god to anger. Pale, ghostly skin surrounded sunken, black eyes. His eyes might be the only interesting aspect of him. They were so full of knowledge, yet always craved to know more; almost an opposite to himself. They were lively and excited and he was the image of misery. Furthermore, there is Sofli; he bears the title of Sun Bringer. He is the god of happiness, joy, and excitement. He was dearly worshiped in the old world, where life was full of wonder. Flowers sprouted at his feet where he stood, even in the barest of lands, and the tendrils of vines
curled around his legs. Curly blond hair, which was longer than most, went down to his shoulders and his bright green eyes were a sight to behold. They were the beautiful color of nature – pink and purple flecks you could get lost in. The myth says that when he was angered, the earth shook. His brightness radiated light for all those seeking warmth. The final goddess was named Zajo. She was different from the rest, revered all the same, but different. The only god to have what she had achieved. Friendship and benevolence. She was the only god to have many things. She had been put through pain more often than the rest. The stories say she went through Hifli, the word for “final death.” No one knows how she survived, but the rumors say she went through death for mortal life. She had experienced more joy than even Sofli. She had spent her life running with the wild things and living deep in the unknown forest. She had developed a mighty temper, and when she was mad, the monsters trembled and the sky turned black with clouds that gathered in the sky and roared through the night. Those who angered her were never seen again. Legend says that she had hair as black as night with one weathered gray stripe and eyes the color turquoise. Gods are not supposed to love humanity. They look down on mortals and spit at them for crimes they commit against one another. The gods are worshiped, they answer cries and calls; that is all. No mortal has the audacity to call a god a friend, and no god has ever kept a mortal close. Until Zajo. She loved humanity like a friend of sorts, with the bond of a sister, and the strength of a lion’s bite. The mortals offered her gifts and praise, more so than the other gods. However, the gods, so privileged as they are, brewed a temper under their brow. They became jealous of the mortal’s Magnificat Literary and Art Magazine | 29
love for Zajo and they acted on it. They stripped her of her power and banished her to the mountains our elders used to climb. The legends say that Zajo died on that mountain. And that the dragons screamed with rage and declared war on the people: The Thousand Year War. Zajo was the guardian of dragons and wild things. The night she died, the earth trembled with the anger of the beasts, the sun went behind dark clouds, and the oceans roared and pulled any man who went near it out to the endless abyss. No one remembers what Zajo protected,
Shakespeare by Finley McNamee ’24
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wielded, or what she was the goddess of. Any memory of her was long passed to the trees to whisper to each other and for the tides to tell to the sand. Now only rumors remain of the god who was loved by everyone. It is little known if the gods ever felt remorse for their deeds, but it was too late if they did. Her life passed on, and years have passed since. Now the tyranny is here and the gods have no love for humanity. When there were dragons, though, they did. Now the tyranny is here. And the gods no longer care.
Untitled
by Lacey White ’24
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Rosary Thoughts by Lauren Shearer ’22
Life goes through ebbs and flows just like the river rolling with justice. There is no place I’d rather be than on this mystery ride with no one but you by my side. I know I must have faith and ready the way for you are waiting with open arms.
Until Tomorrow by Lauren Shearer ’22
Peace is made Love is sown Hope is found Foundations are built But nothing is as strong as you here with me right now As I look to the sky With delight Knowing tomorrow will be Filled with all these things and more. See you tomorrow.
inevitable sunrise by Lauren Shearer ’22 the sun sets at the end of the day and flowers fold when butterflies sleep but every day is different despite the repetition. even if you are not ready a new day will dawn and it will be good. 32 | Spring 2022
Lola by Gabby Lehman ’22
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First Nature by Jasmine Abeid ’23
Second Nature by Jasmine Abeid ’23
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green. by Jasmine Abeid ’23 green can be a happy color. suggesting the fragrance of a spring morning or the laziness of a sunday afternoon. to some, green is nostalgic. and to others, green is sad. green is a reminder of happy days fuller memories better friends. but green is a reminder of many many fights. of the little things in life that pile on and on and on. for me, green is far away. green will not return. and green will burn. ironically.
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Logo by Jasmine Abeid ’23
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Zealous by Emily Osbourne ’22 The volcano rumbled. Fiery hot lava, as red as roses, poured down the steep, rocky sides As a child no older than ten stared wide. With eyes full of stars, he jumped and sprang Over to the multitude of coloring supplies. Markers danced, pencils glided, as his recreation came to be, With the rumble of the rocky mountain echoing in his ears. Oranges as soft as sunsets and reds as vibrant as fire trucks Were worn out by the end. His smile grew larger with each stroke, And laughter could be heard from miles away. This childish spirit brought the wonder to life. The volcano rumbled. Clay as brown as dirt came to life through the child’s smile. The vibrant image of the lava pouring down the mountain was imprinted, And, as if he had done this a hundred times before, the child built the clay up Into the perfect mountain. The volcano rumbled. Cabinets flew open with a bang, Pots and pans eagerly crashed to the ground, And there he found what he had been searching for all this time: The ingredient that would make his masterpiece be as alive as his mind; The ingredient that held the key to this success. His eyes danced around as he could not stand to sit still any longer. Imagination running wild, he began to make his dreams come true. Fizz! Pop! The liquid ran down the makeshift mountain, It was everything he could have dreamed of, Just like the boy, it was alive and filled with light. The volcano rumbled.
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The Train by Anonymous Chapter 1: “The Train” “Max, hurry up! It leaves in eight minutes!” Zoey shouted into his bedroom. “Hold on!” Max shouted back as he hastily packed essential belongings into his school backpack. He packed everything he thought he would need: extra clothes for any kind of weather, toiletries—like his toothbrush and comb—first aid supplies, his phone and charger (although, based on where he, his mom, and his sister were going, he didn’t know if a charger would be of any use), random books to keep himself entertained and sane just in case if his phone died, and more random things he thought he might need. He threw his backpack on his desk and felt a twinge inside him that he was forgetting something. At this point, his mind was racing. Here he was trying to remember what he was possibly forgetting instead of getting onto a train that might save his life. He thought about how there had been a considerable amount of tension between the United States and a couple of other countries for quite a while now, and those countries had just reached their breaking point with the U.S. Bombs were said to be dropped at any minute now, right in his hometown of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. This was all because climate change had gotten so bad, particularly in the U.S. for some reason, and they just felt the need to blame other countries for it instead of coming together and saying that it was everyone’s fault it was so bad. And it was very bad; it was near autumn in 38 | Spring 2022
Pittsburgh and it was still around 7080℉, but that’s only Pittsburgh. As far as North America goes, the place is like a desert. Higher than normal temperatures for every season, more wildfires, bad air quality because of the high temperatures, and wildfire outbreaks. Then some of the states near the coasts are literally almost underwater because of how much the ice caps have melted and the sea levels have risen. There are more frequent and worse thunderstorms, including more destructive hurricanes. The worst one so far was Hurricane Ozzy, whose name has since been retired. Because of all of the destruction, there has been food, water, money, electricity, you-name-it shortages, and Max and his family felt all of it. Focus, he thought as he tried to calm down and think about what he was forgetting if anything. He went through a mental checklist, checking everything off that he’d packed, but it still felt like there was something he was missing. But then he saw it. Right next to the lamp on his desk, there was a slightly rusted, gold locket necklace. Even though it was a necklace, he usually kept it in his pocket because he couldn’t stand wearing any kind of jewelry, except maybe a watch or a bracelet, because he knew he would constantly play with it. It was perfectly circular and fit securely in the palm of his hand and had an engraved scrolling foliate design on either side. He, Zoey, and his mom all had the same locket with correlating pictures in them, and Zoey and his mom always wore theirs on their neck, the way Max should have been wearing it. Max picked it up and
opened it to reveal a picture of his mom standing behind his sister on the left, and on the right, a picture of his whole family—his dad included. Their dad had left their family when their mom surprised him by saying she was pregnant with Zoey, which was when Max was around five years old. As far as Max knew, their dad left because he couldn’t handle having two kids. After Zoey was born, Max didn’t like— possibly even hated—Zoey, and thought it was her fault their dad left. But after being forced to spend time together, Max couldn’t help but love Zoey and her spontaneous personality. Their dad leaving them left Max with abandonment issues and trouble accepting change. So quite quickly, he had grown to love Zoey and his mom to the point of being very protective of them. Max looked into his father’s eyes in the picture and felt anger starting to bubble deep inside him, with just a hint of sadness in it. He closed the locket and put it in his pocket. I don’t care where he is or how he’s doing, he thought, he’s already made his decision. “Max, let’s go!” Zoey yelled back into his room. “Coming!” Max said as he threw on his backpack and ran out of his room. He ran into the kitchen and went right to the fridge to gather any food he could and stuffed it in his bag. Who knew how long they would be gone for—or if they would even come back? His mom was at the kitchen table hastily looking through her purse and mumbling to herself to see if she had everything and said sternly, “Okay, we have to go now,” as she threw her bag over her shoulder and began walking out the front door. “Max, let’s go!” Zoey said as she dragged him by his arm to the front door
while he was still stuffing food into his bag. “Okay, okay!” Max yelled as he stood up and zipped his bag while speedwalking out the front door. “You two, follow me and do not stop. Try to keep up, okay?” His mom focused on him and Zoey and said quickly. “Good. Let’s go!” Their mom said. Max and Zoey nodded and they set off down the road that led to downtown. Max threw on his backpack mid-run and looked at his surroundings. All the buildings were vacated and rundown and the atmosphere was dull and gray. It looked like it was about to rain. The sidewalk Max ran on was dry and had been starting to crack due to the neglect and constant heat it endured. The thing he focused on more, though, was the number of people running with them to get to the same train. He saw parents, siblings, and children all running with each other to board the train that would save them, only if they made it in time. Max might forget who he saw, but he would never forget any of their faces. Their expressions—ones of terror, angst, tension, pain, exhaustion—made him nervous, and the realization that any of this was actually happening sunk deeper into him and gnawed at his stomach. He’d felt like they’d been running for hours as his lungs and legs started to burn from running so much. “Are we there yet?” Zoey said, which is probably what everyone around them was wondering too. Max looked over at her. She’d been so quiet this whole time he forgot she was there. He noticed that her face was red. Probably because she’s been running for a long time, he thought, and he wouldn’t be surprised if his face were red, too. But there was something else. He looked at her eyes and saw, from what Magnificat Literary and Art Magazine | 39
he could see as they were both running, that her eyes were glazed over with tears. Max gasped on the inside and felt his heart ache. He hated seeing Zoey, or anyone for that matter, cry, no matter what they were going through. He thought about stopping to hug her and tell her it would be okay and that they would make it to the train soon, but he knew he could not stop, so he didn’t. “Just . . . up ahead,” his mom said through pants as she pointed up ahead at a huge crowd of people. Oh, my god, he thought as the three of them slowed to a stop before the huge crowd. Hundreds of people from around Pittsburgh were gathered onto the only train platform that would get them to safety. Max tried to look over the mass of people to see where they were boarding and saw guards near the train doors pushing people back and picking people out to get on the train, and shouting indistinctly above the roar of the crowd in front of them. “It looks like they’re only picking certain people to get on!” Max shouted above the noise to Zoey and his mom. He was still trying to catch his breath from running so much. “We have to get to the front!” his mom yelled to them. “Zoey, take my hand and your brother’s and stay together!” Max took Zoey’s trembling hand in his own trembling hand and squeezed it, not only to make sure they didn’t get separated, but also to reassure her. His mom squeezed past the bustling people on the platform. It was so hot with all the people around him and everyone constantly bumping against him made it hard for him to keep walking. He’d avoided pushing people back when they bumped into him, but after he almost lost his grip on Zoey’s hand when someone bumped into him, 40 | Spring 2022
he didn’t hesitate to do so, but he still felt a little guilty afterward. Just as they made it to the door, his mom reached out for one of the guards and yelled, “Please! Please, I have to get on with my children,” her voice filled with desperation. Two of the guards seemed to allow the three of them to board by pushing people in front of them to the side. His mom dragged her children to the front and thanked the guards. Max looked at the people on the train. It was so packed that it looked like the doors wouldn’t even be able to close if they fit any more people on it. He swore he could see precipitation on the windows and steam flowing around from everyone being shoved in there. “Ma’am, you need to board, the train is about to depart,” one of the guards urged. “Okay, let’s go guys,” his mom said to the two of them as she started toward the entrance to the train. Just as his mom started boarding the train, Zoey right behind her, Max felt a pair of hands clamp down on his shoulders and pull him back, making Max let go of Zoey’s hand. “Hey!” Zoey shouted as she turned around, her brows furrowed. “Not you,” one of the guards said as he kept his grip tight on Max’s shoulders. “What?!” Max shouted at the guard. “I’m her brother, let me go!” he said as he struggled to get out of the guard’s grip. “Let him go!” Zoey shouted as she tried to pull Max to the doors by the arms. “Get your hands off my son!” His mom came out of the car and yelled. She walked to try to help Max, but a guard came up to her and ushered her and Zoey to the car, calmly saying, “Ma’am, you have to go. The car is full and the train is about to depart.”
“But what about my son?! That’s my son!” she yelled as the guard held her back on the train. Another guard moved in and pried Zoey off of Max and shoved her into the car with his mom. “Max!” she kept yelling between sobs as she tried to fight to get away from the car. “Max!” “Zoey!” Max yelled as he still struggled against the guard. “Get off me!” he said as he yanked away from the guard, but the guard kept his grip tight on his shoulders. No matter how much Max struggled, the guard was unmoving. The guards near the doors pushed Zoey and his mom into the car one last time before the doors closed, but that didn’t stop either of them from trying to get to Max. He heard his name through muffled shouts from Zoey and his mom, and Zoey was banging on the doors to open. They were about to take off soon, and Max had to do something, anything, to get to them. He struggled harder to get out of the guard’s grip and it worked for a second, but then the guard held him
back again by putting his arm around Max’s neck. Suddenly, everything around him slowed and became muffled. The last thing he saw was their faces, their expressions, yet again. They both had tears streaming down their faces, and his mom held onto Zoey through a hug while Zoey was still banging on the doors for them to open. And then they were gone. The train sped past him and off to a much safer place than where he was now, and he watched it leave without him in disbelief. He hadn’t felt the guard let go of him or slink away to wherever he was going off to. Nor did he notice the crowd behind him slowly dissipate with sad murmurs. He felt his shoulders slump. His eyes widened as his mouth fell open, his bottom lip trembling. Tears rolled down his face as he scoffed in disbelief at what just happened. A million different thoughts started racing through his mind right then, but they all asked the same question. Now what?
Blinded By Winter’s Innocence by Sam Malley ’25 Making men of snow While the homeless freeze and cry Do the children know?
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Dog #1 by Lacey White ’24
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Dog #2 by Lacey White ’24
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A Very Misadventurous Vacation by Sarah Hill ’23 It was the middle of June on a hot summer’s day, and the Parker family was getting ready for their annual vacation. This year they decided to go to North Carolina, taking their family van as usual. The family made sure to pack everything they needed not only for the vacation, but also for the car ride, including snacks, drinks, and other things to keep them busy. The drive down there would be about 12 hours, which would be a battle in itself, considering three adults and two teenagers had to be stuck together for that long. To add to the chaos, the grandmother had separation anxiety from her beloved pet bird, Fred. The Parker family prayed that this road trip would go smoothly because then they would be able to truly relax at their destination. The first few hours of the trip went by quickly, as everyone was on their electronic devices except the driver, Mr. Parker. The radio was on the Grateful Dead channel, and Mr. Parker was swaying his head to the sounds of Jerry Garcia’s guitar solo. Everything was calm, that is until the grandmother asked, “where is Fred?” “Fred is at home with the other birds,” answered Mr. Parker calmly. “No,” said the grandmother, “I just saw him, where did he go?” The teenage son giggled, thinking his grandma was making up stories again. “Fred isn’t with us Grandma,” murmured the sassy teenage daughter. The grandmother was sure that she had just seen her yellow and green bird, but she eventually became quiet again, as she realized her family didn’t believe her. After some more driving, the family became very bored. The five of them ate all of their snacks and completed all of 44 | Spring 2022
the puzzles they brought for the trip. They had run out of activities to do and were desperate to get out of the car. The trip wasn’t even halfway over and the Parkers were already sick of being together. The grandmother tried to start conversations with her family, but they mostly ended up being about her bird. Due to this constant pestering, the rest of the family was quite exasperated. The teenage boy tried to lighten the mood, but even his attempts failed. Even with the upbeat sounds of the radio, the car always seemed to end up in silence. The grandmother couldn’t keep her mind off of her bird, while the rest of the family hoped their vacation would be much better than their frustrating car ride. After about five hours of driving, the family became hungry and stopped at a McDonald’s to stretch their legs. Mrs. Parker took the grandmother to the bathroom while Mr. Parker and the kids ordered food. “What do you think Grandma meant when she said she saw Fred?” the daughter asked her father. “She probably was just so worried about Fred that she thought she saw him in the car,” Mr. Parker stated dismissively. The family got their McDonald’s to go and went back on the road. The car’s mood instantly changed when “Playing in the Band” by the Grateful Dead came on the radio. The family was so overjoyed singing together that they almost forgot to eat their food. As the Parkers began to eat their meals, the son opened his bag. “Hey, who ate all my fries?” he said in a confused tone. Mrs. Parker looked at her son’s empty fry container and said, “That’s weird, you
just opened the box, how could they be missing?” The boy then looked to his grandmother, who was happily eating her box of fries. “Grandma,” her grandson said in a frustrated tone, “did you steal my fries?” “Why would I steal your fries, honey? I have my own,” his grandmother said raising her eyebrow. The grandson rolled his eyes in disbelief as his grandma must have been the culprit. The boy’s sister had fallen asleep in the backseat so it couldn’t have been her. His grandma was the only one next to him in the car, and there was a hand-sized hole in the bottom of his bag. The boy was easygoing, so he let his grandmother off the hook. No need to start a useless fight. He thought to himself. At last, the family was about an hour away from their destination. They all turned their heads as they drove past a flock of birds. The birds outside were happily chirping as they flew next to the van. “Look, Grandma, I think I see your bird,” the granddaughter said jokingly. At that moment, the family heard a small chirp, followed by a loud crash, and then the sound of their luggage opening, spilling their belongings all over the trunk of the car. “Great, just great!” Mrs. Parker exclaimed sarcastically. The family’s road trip seemed to be becoming worse and worse. Nothing seemed to be going as planned, and the family was tired of being stuck together for this long. The Parker family was glad that their trip was almost over, but there were still many unanswered questions. Just then, Mr. Parker saw something in
his rearview mirror that caught his eye. The family was about ten minutes away from their vacation home when Mr. Parker pulled the car over. He must have seen something important that made him stop, as he was quite eager to begin his vacation. Mr. Parker opened up the trunk, and to the rest of the family’s surprise, a little yellow and green bird flew to Mr. Parker’s shoulder. “Fred! I knew you were in here somewhere!” exclaimed the grandmother. The grandmother was overjoyed to know that her little friend was safe. Fred chirped happily and flew straight to his owner. “Oh, so that’s who ate all of my fries,” said the boy while laughing. The bird must have snuck into the luggage as the family was leaving, climbed out, ran throughout the car, ate the son’s fries, and tried to climb back into the suitcase, causing it to open and spill all over the car. With this mystery solved, the family was able to finally make it to their vacation home. Although the car ride was chaotic, the bird tagging along on the trip worked out for the entire family. The grandmother was able to stop worrying about being separated from her bird, allowing for everyone to truly enjoy their vacation. The week was filled with going to the beach, swimming, and relaxing in the huge house. The Parker family’s vacation was a huge success, and the family had such a fun time together. Even though they struggled to be crammed in a car together, the family enjoyed each other’s company for the rest of the week. Overall, the trip was not perfect, but it was quite a memorable vacation. Magnificat Literary and Art Magazine | 45
Fire by Keona Caraballo ’24 The Fire to the Boy I rubbed my eyes. What I saw couldn’t have been real, but then again I wouldn’t mind seeing her again. I was patiently waiting for my marshmallow to roast over the fire. I needed a break. School has been a lot and it always helps me to stare into a fire to let my troubles melt away like a drop of marshmallow that fell into the fire before it could make it to my last s’more. The smoke blew into my face and snapped me into being worried about my stinging eyes. When the stinging went away I raised my eyes and lost myself in the fire again but this time I was lost in the mesmerizing dance of the fire that eventually formed into the shape of a young woman. Her skin was a gentle charred coal color. Her beautiful, bouncing curls were dancing with her. The flames were her dress and she moved unpredictably yet gracefully. She kept dancing beautifully until the flames died down and the small red hot coals of the burned wood were the only things left. How I wish to see that dance again.
The Boy to the Fire I’m tired, so tired! How much longer? One dance to the next then another, with no break. I wish for nothing except for more room to dance. I dance and dance in smaller places. I am so hungry, so very hungry. I need more yet they must contain me and feed me less. Feed me more! After I eat I get lonely and tired. Then I fall asleep and wake up and dance somewhere else. One day I woke up to dance in an average backyard, like always. This time though I was facing a young man that looked just as troubled as I. His soft straight bright brown hair was gently laying by his face as he laid his heavy face in his hands. He stared at the fire intently and intensely. I danced to impress. I tried to cheer him up, but soon I realized the stress he was under could not be easily lifted off his shoulders with any dance I could perform. In the same way, I could not be satisfied with one measly log to feed me. I wanted to give him a gift so he could always see my dance so I sent him a silver lighter with the inscription of a dead tree in the winter. Oh, how appetizing it looked. I hope he uses it soon. I wish to see him again. Wait patiently, you can do that.
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Untitled by Lacey White ’24
Magnificat Literary and Art Magazine | 47
Worth Fighting For by G Eink ’24 SCENE 1 The scene opens with a married couple sitting on opposite ends of a couch. They are as far away from each other as possible. The man is fidgeting with his hands, slumped with his legs spread on the floor, a very casual position. The woman is sitting with great posture, her hands on her knees. She checks her watch then looks straight ahead. Wife: So, how is this going to work? Are you going to ask us questions or do we just have a conversation and you listen? Therapist (off screen): Would you like me to ask you some questions? Wife: I don’t mind either way. Husband: I have a meeting to get to at 5 so if we can hurry this up a bit. Wife: [turns to look at husband] You are never prioritizing our relationship. Wife: He always does this. He always has to run somewhere and never has time for me. Husband: [groans, slightly interrupting wife] Husband: It’s not my fault my boss scheduled a meeting the same time as you scheduled this [mumbles] waste of time. Wife: I’m sorry can you speak up. Husband: I called this a waste of time. Is that clear enough for you? Wife: Yes. They sit there in silence for a few moments. They both sit there anxiously, shifting and fidgeting. Wife: I guess I’ll start then. Husband: Here we go again. 48 | Spring 2022
Wife [faces husband]: So I’m never allowed to speak. Husband: You never stop speaking. Therapist (off screen): Go ahead Shannon. Wife: Thank you. I would like to talk about lunch last week. Blackout SCENE 2 The scene opens to a small round table with a white cloth covering it. There is a vase of tulips sitting in the middle with 2 lit candlesticks on either side. There are 2 place settings and 2 chairs. One of the chairs is empty and the other is being occupied by the Wife. She is wearing a fancy red dress, pearl earrings, bold lipstick, and her hair is curled. It is a dark restaurant with a slight amount of light on the table. A soft jazz song is playing in the background. The Wife sits at the clothed chair looking at her phone, waiting anticipating the arrival of her husband. She picks her phone up, looks at the time, sets it down, and repeats that several times. The Husband finally arrives wearing paint covered jeans and a dirty white tee. He sits down at the table. Husband: I’m sorry I’m late, work ran long. Wife: I waited for half an hour. Husband: I know, I’m sorry. I lost track of time. But I’m here now. [He reaches for Shannon’s hand.] You look beautiful. Wife: Thank you. [She looks in his eyes and smiles.] I have something for you.
Husband: For me? Wife: Of course! [She reached under the table and pulled out a gift bag. It was filled with white tissue paper.] Husband: You are just the sweetest. [He takes out a small index card.] Dear Husband, I have loved and cherished every moment I have spent with you. I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you. Love, Your Wife.” Honey that is so sweet, thank you. [He removes the tissue paper and pulls out a black-tie.] Oh my God honey. This is incredible. It’s pure silk. I love it. What’s the occasion? Wife [slightly laughs]: That’s funny Husband: What’s funny? Wife [pauses for a moment and a look of realisation appears on her face]: Oh my God. You’re not kidding are you?
Wife: Not only any anniversary, our ten year anniversary. Therapist (off screen) : Ten years. That’s an awful long time isn’t it? Wife: [nods] Therapist (off screen): You seem a little young to have been married for 10 years. How old were you two when you got married? Wife: I was 18, he was 19. Therapist (off screen): Wow. You were very young! Tell me about it. Wife: Well… Blackout SCENE 4
Wife: Our ten year anniversary!
Scene opens to the Wife sitting in a chair with a white wedding dress. She is wearing a lacy veil and has a full face of makeup. Across from her sits her father wearing a black suit. Her eyes were puffy and a tissue was in her hand. Her father has his hand on her shoulder. She sniffles.
Husband: Honey, I am so sorry! I completely forgot!
Wife: He’s not gonna come.
Husband: What’s wrong? Wife: What’s today? Husband: Uh, it’s May 12th. It’s not my birthday. It’s not your birthday. It’s not… Shoot, it’s our anniversary.
Wife [removes the napkin off lap and throws it on the table] I’m leaving; I’ll see you at home. [She gets up out of seat.] Husband: Baby please! I am so sorry! Wife storms out, no longer visible on screen. Husband pounds his fists on the table. Blackout. SCENE 3 The scene opens to a therapist office. Therapist (off screen): So, what I’m hearing is he forgot your anniversary.
Father: Yes, he will. Wife: How do you know? Father: I just know. Besides, no one would ever stand up someone this beautiful. Wife: Thanks dad. Father: If he doesn’t come I’ll just have to kill him. Wife [slightly laughs]: I’d love to see that. Father [laughs, patting her shoulder]: Hopefully I won’t have to. My swinging arm isn’t what it used to be. They both laugh. Her father is slightly massaging her shoulder. Magnificat Literary and Art Magazine | 49
A loud voice is heard from outside the room, they both turn to look Voice: He’s here! Father stands up and puts out his hand to his daughter. Father: I guess that’s my cue. She smiles, takes his hand and stands up. They link arms and walk off screen. Blackout SCENE 5 Scene opens to therapist’s office. Therapist (off screen): So, you almost didn’t come. Why is that? Did you have second thoughts? Husband: I don’t know, it was ten years ago. I was still a kid. [He pauses and fiddles with his hands.] I guess I pictured my life going in a different direction. Therapist (off screen): What direction is that? Husband: I was young and ambitious. I wanted to open my own business, go to college, go to parties. I wanted to be a kid. I didn’t want to get married and be trapped the rest of my life. Therapist (off screen): What made you change your mind? Husband: Well, I love her. I kept trying to imagine my life without her, and I couldn’t. I gave up everything for her. I regret it almost everyday. Wife: You never told me you wanted to go to college Husband: You would have thought it was stupid. Wife: No I wouldn’t have. I went to college. I loved college. Husband: You’ve shot down all my ideas since we were teenagers. 50 | Spring 2022
Wife: No I haven’t! Name one! Husband: When I was 22, I got a job offer to work at Curtiss Wright, my dream job, and you shut it down without even listening to the whole thing. Wife: It was in Maryland! Sorry I don’t want my husband to move 3,000 miles away from me! Husband: I have been dreaming about working there since I was 14 and you declined it in 5 seconds! Wife: I’m sorry! I was still in college! I wasn’t going to drop out and follow you halfway across the country! Husband: Fine! What about the time last year when I told you I wanted to move and you completely turned me down! Wife: We’ve been living in that house since we were dating! You proposed to me in that house! I told you I was pregnant in that house! Jean took his first steps in that house! My dad died in that house! That house is full of memories that I’m not willing to get rid of! Husband: So, I can never make a decision? Wife: That’s not what I’m saying! Husband: That’s what it sounds like to me! Wife: [sighs frustrated] They sit there in silence Therapist (off screen): Let’s change the subject. [turns toward the Wife] It seems like your father was very important to you. How long ago did he die? Wife: He died in June last year. He had lung cancer for over a year. Therapist (off screen): I’m so sorry, that must have been hard on you. Wife: It was. He was my best friend. Therapist (off screen): You mentioned that he died in your house. Was he living
with you at the time?
Husband: Yup.
Wife: Yeah, he was fired from his job in January and couldn’t afford rent so I offered to help him. It took a lot of convincing but he finally agreed in April. He never accepted help from other people, he always had to be the one to help.
The couple rises from their seats.
Therapist (off screen): How was that on you? [turns towards Husband]
The scene opens to only the Wife sitting on the couch. She is sitting in the middle with a more relaxed posture.
Husband: It took a lot of adjustment but it actually helped in the long run. He babysat Jean when we were at work, he cleaned around the house, he did yard work, he cooked dinner, he did laundry, and he drove Jean to school in the morning. Therapist (off screen): It seemed like you two relied on him alot. Husband: We did. It was very hard for all of us when he passed. Wife: Yeah right. Husband: What? His passing affected me a lot. Wife: You never cared about him. You wanted him out the day he moved in. The only reason you let him stay was because he did all the things you used to do so you could watch your stupid sports games. Husband: That is not fair. I have done all the chores around the house since we started dating. I think I am allowed a little break. Wife: Whatever. They sat in silence again Therapist (off screen): How about let’s take a quick break for a moment then I’ll meet with you two separately, sound good? Wife and Husband together: Yeah Therapist (off screen): Great. Go get something to eat and we will reconvene here in about an hour. Wife: Ok.
Blackout SCENE 6
Therapist (off screen): So how was your lunch? Wife: It was good. I had a bagel sandwich with bacon, barbecue, lettuce, and scrambled eggs. It was fantastic, I got it at the food truck across the street. Therapist (off screen): That sounds wonderful. I’ve never eaten from the food trucks around here. Wife: They are really good, I would definitely recommend it. Therapist (off screen): Maybe I will try it. So, let’s start off with an easy one. How did you two meet? Wife: I was walking home from school one day and a pickup truck stopped near me on the sidewalk. At first I was really scared but I recognized the face. It was the boy from my math class. We were in Algebra 2. I was the freshman in the back of the room writing in my journal and he was the junior front and center who wore his football jersey outside his sweatshirt and sat by his jockey friends. He asked me to get in and I did. I get it was stupid but I was 15, I was allowed to be stupid, its kinda in the job description. The drive was mostly silent. He dropped me off at my house and walked me to the door. Camera starts to zoom in halfway through paragraph and continues until the end of scene Therapist (off screen): What happened then? Magnificat Literary and Art Magazine | 51
Wife: Well…
Wife: Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow. Husband: Sweet, see you then.
Blackout SCENE 7 The scene opens at a front door. The Husband is in his jeans and a jersey over his sweatshirt. The Wife is in a long, flowery dress. She’s clutching her books. Husband: So this is your house, huh? Wife: Yeah, it is. Husband: It’s nice. Wife: Thanks. They stand there in silence for a moment. Wife: Well, thanks for the ride. She opens the door and is about to go in. Husband: Wait. Wife: What? [She closes the door and turns to look at him.] Husband [hands in pockets]: What are you doing tomorrow? Wife: What do you mean?
The Wife goes inside and the Husband is smiling outside the door. He walks away happily and leaves the frame Blackout SCENE 8 The scene opens at the therapist’s office with only the Wife. Therapist (off screen): That’s wonderful. How was the dance? Wife: It was really nice. I wore a really pretty purple dress. He picked me up and brought me to the school. We stayed till about 10 then went out to dinner and he dropped me back off at home. Therapist (off screen): How did your father feel about you dating an upperclassman as a freshman? Wife: Well…
Husband: Do you wanna maybe go to the dance with me?
Blackout
Wife: The homecoming dance?
SCENE 9
Husband: Yeah.
The scene opens to a kitchen. The Wife and her father are standing across from each other. Father is wearing his work uniform and his daughter is wearing a casual outfit.
Wife: Like a date? Husband [he chuckles softly]: Yes, like a date. Wife: I didn’t know you.. Husband: Liked you? Yes, I like you. You don’t notice me staring at you everyday in math class? Wife: No, I don’t. Husband: Well I do, and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.
Father: I will not allow you to see that boy again! Wife: Dad! He’s a good person. He’s nice, he’s funny, he’s smart, and he actually likes me. Father: He’s a bad influence.
Wife: [Smiles at him]
Wife: How? Name one thing that he has done.
Husband: [Smiles back] So, the dance?
Father: Well I can’t think of anything on
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the spot!
Father: Ok, fine
Wife: See! You can’t even give me an example! You just don’t want me to be happy!
Wife: Thanks dad. [They hug.]
Father: You’re my little girl! I don’t want you being taken away from me by a jerk in a pickup truck. Wife: He’s not a jerk! You haven’t even met him. You know nothing about him! Father: I know that he has been picking you up and bringing you to god knows where and not dropping you back off till it’s pitch black outside. Wife: Dad, I’m in high school, I’m not going to stay in every day. I’m gonna go out, go to parties, hang out with friends and my boyfriend, who I love. Father: You’re fifteen, you don’t know what love is. Wife: I know that he makes me smile. I know that I can’t go more than five minutes without thinking about him. I know that I can’t imagine my life without him. I know that I love everything about him. Father: You are too young. Wife: I know dad, but you have to trust me. I know what I’m doing. I’m not going to do anything stupid.
Father: I love you sweetie. Wife: I love you too. Blackout SCENE 10 The scene opens at the therapist’s office with the Wife and Husband. Therapist (off screen): Well, I think I know what I need to do. I’m gonna have Derek come in here now for a one on one. I’ll see you in a little bit, ok? Wife: Yeah sure. The Wife exits one side of the screen. A moment passes and the Husband enters on the other side. Therapist (off screen): How was your lunch? Huband: Fine, whatever. Therapist (off screen): Ok, well then let’s jump into it. Do you remember what made you want to come see me? Husband: Yeah, it was 3 weeks ago. After that everything else went downhill.
Father: I don’t wanna lose my little girl. Wife: You’re not gonna lose me. I’m right here.
Blackout
She starts to walk over to father and puts her hand on his shoulder.
SCENE 11
Father: You promise? Wife: Yes! I’m never gonna leave you. Father: Ok Wife: How about we schedule a dinner with you, me, and him. Father: I don’t know. Wife: Please? You’re gonna love him, I promise.
Scene opens to the Husband sitting on the couch watching tv and shannon walks in wearing a dress, heals, and putting in earrings Wife: Hey, I’m going out with my friends if you can watch Jean for a couple hours. Husband: No, sorry. I’m going to the game in an hour with Dave. Wife: What? I’ve been planning this for
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over a week.
Blackout
Husband: Sorry. We already bought the tickets, I’m not just gonna skip it. [paying attention to the tv and not Shannon]
SCENE 12
Wife: So, you want me to bail on my friends and the plans we made weeks ago. Husband: Someone has to stay home with Jean. Wife: I’ve stayed with her the last 2 weeks while you went to the bar, went to New Jersey with your friends, and went to countless games. I’ve been here, changing diapers, cleaning the playroom, doing the dishes, and everything else around the house. I want one day off. Please, just give me one day off. Husband: We could get a babysitter. Wife: No one will be able to come on this short notice. Besides, we’re trying to save money, remember. Husband: If you’re trying to save money, why do you have a closet full of shoes? I know for a fact that at least three of those were bought in the last week. Wife: Excuse me? You are really scolding me for what I buy with my own money. Husband: Somebody had to say it. Wife: You are ridiculous. I’m going out. Husband: You really wanna leave a 2 year old unattended. If you leave, I’m leaving too. Wife: Oh my god. Fine, fine. I’ll stay for the 3rd week in a row. I’ll call my friends and tell them that my husband is so immature he threatened to leave our 2-year-old daughter home alone so he can go to his precious game. Don’t worry, I’ll be the only adult in this relationship. Husband: [He gets up out of couch.] Thanks. I’m gonna go get ready. Wife: [Grunts in frustration]
The scene opens at the therapist’s office with only the Husband. Therapist (off screen): So, it sounds like you were uncooperative and not quite listening to Shannon’s needs. Husband: Are you kidding me? I’m allowed to go to a game with my friend. Is that really a crime? Therapist (off screen): I see the problem here. Husband: What doc. Tell me what’s wrong with me so I can leave this hellhole. Therapist (off screen): When was the last time Shannon had a day off? Husband: I don’t see how that is relevant here. Therapist (off screen): Answer the question. Husband: I don’t know, a month maybe. Therapist (off screen): And when was the last time you had a day off? Husband: Two days ago. Therapist (off screen): You don’t see the problem here? Husband: Fine, I get that I get more breaks than she does but she offers to take care of Jean. I never force her too. Therapist (off screen): So you believe that guilt-tripping and threatening is not forcing. Husband: Stop twisting my words. I never threatened anyone. Therapist (off screen): I believe your exact words were “You really wanna leave a 2 year old unattended-” Husband: Ok, I get it. Maybe I could have went about it another way butTherapist (off screen): But what? You
54 | Spring 2022
thought that maybe if you were more demanding she may listen to you? You get to control her with your words?
Doctor: There is no cure but there are ways to extend and improve your quality of life.
Husband: No! Stop! I’m not controlling her.
Husband: Am I dying?
Therapist (off screen): You’re just manipulating her to do what you say. Husband: Fine! I was a jerk. I wanted to go to the game so I was a jerk and I regret it. Happy? Therapist (off screen): I don’t think I am the one you should be trying to make happy. There is a wonderful woman outside these doors trying her absolute hardest trying to fix this marriage and you are not even trying. How about you tell me the real reason you are here. Husband: Fine. It was 4 months ago… Blackout
Doctor: There is still some things we can tryHusband: Answer the question. Doctor: Yes, Derek. You are dying. Husband: How long do I have? Doctor: 6 months to a year. Husband: Oh my god. Doctor: We can still trying radiationHusband: Oh my god. I’m dying. Blackout SCENE 14 Therapist (off screen): Ah, ok. Things are starting to finally make sense.
SCENE 13
Husband: Yeah.
The scene opens to a chair being occupied by the Husband. It is in a doctor’s office. He sits in the chair nervously, biting his nails and fidgeting his legs. There is a sound of a door opening.
Therapist (off screen): So you thought if you pushed her away it would be easier for her to deal with your death?
Husband: So, what did you find? Doctor (off screen): I have some [slight pause] news. Husband: What is it, I swear I can take it. Doctor: We found fluid in your abdomen so we did some further research and Husband: What is it? Doctor: We’re diagnosing you with stage four pancreatic cancer. Husband: What? Doctor: I am so sorry. I understand this can be overwhelmingHusband: Am I dying?
Husband: I didn’t want her to deal with the medical bills, the hospital stays, the surgeries, and all the inevitable complications. If I push her off, then when I die she’ll remember me as a terrible person and it will be easier for her to cope. Therapist (off screen): That is not healthy, and you know it. Husband: Of course I know it. You really think I wanted things to be this way? You think I wanted to be mean to the love of my life. My wife is my person; she’s my soulmate. I wanted to give her a life of happiness and joy. Not a life of medical bills and grief. Therapist (off screen): So, you’re not receiving any treatment? Magnificat Literary and Art Magazine | 55
Huband: No. Therapist (off screen): There is still so much you can do to help. Huband: Help delay my death sentence? I know. Therapist (off screen): You can live up to 5 years with treatment. You should give it a try. Huband: I would rather have these last couple of months living my life like a normal person than spend 5 years in and out of hospitals. That’s not living. Therapist (off screen): You should do it for your wife. Huband: My wife? She hates me. She would never forgive me. Therapist (off screen): You are very wrong. Ever since she got here, she has been fighting for you. She’s trying so hard to understand you. You have to tell her. Huband: I know. I just don’t know-how. Therapist (off screen): You should start by apologizing. Huband: That’s not my specialty. Therapist (off screen): I can help you. Let’s call her in here. Huband: Ok. Therapist (off screen): Are you ready? Huband:Ready as I’ll ever be.
Therapist (off screen): That sounds wonderful. Your Husband actually had something to tell you. Wife: [turns to Husband] Ok. What is it? Husband: I wanted to apologize. I have been really rude to and it is extremely unjustified. I have been pushing you away and I know it’s been hard on you. I promise to stop and I’m going to try my best to mend this relationship. Wife [turning towards the Therapist]: You are a miracle worker! You really talked some sense into him. Therapist (finally on screen): I tried. The Therapist is wearing glasses and a brown pants suit. She has a clipboard in her hands and her knees are crossed. Wife: Thank you. That is really sweet. I’m glad you are taking responsibility for your actions. Of course, it’s not only you. I haven’t been trying as hard as I could have. Husband: No, don’t put this on you. This is all me. I want to work this out and be how we used to be. I want to go on date nights, watch movies, go to games together. I want to be a good couple. I want to fix this. Wife [reaches for Husband’s hand and he takes it]: That sounds really good. I would like that. Therapist (off screen): There is one more thing I would like to discuss.
Blackout
Wife: What is it?
SCENE 15
Therapist (off screen) [turning towards the Husband]: Would you like to add something?
The scene opens to the Husband and Wife on the couch on opposite ends.
Wife: (turns to Husband): What is it?
Therapist (off screen) [turning towards the Wife]: Welcome back. Did you do anything while you waited?
The Husband is silent and looking at the floor.
Wife: Actually I did! I went down to the square to this cute cupcake shop. I got a dozen to bring to Jean’s daycare.
The Husband is still unresponsive
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Wife: What is it? Wife [removes her hand from his and looks at him] What do you have to tell me?
Husband: I’m sick.
you! Are you insane!?
Wife: What do you mean you’re sick?
Husband: I didn’t want to put you through the hospital bills, the inevitable complications, the medicine.
Husband [still looking at the floor]: I have stage four pancreatic cancer. Wife: What? Are you joking? Husband: No. Wife: When did you find out?
Wife: I would do anything to have more time with you. Get the treatment. I want my husband back.
Husband: Four months ago.
Husband: You still want to be with me after what I put you through.
Wife: You found out that long ago and you didn’t tell me?
Wife: Of course. I love you. I always have, always will. You are my person.
Husband: I’m sorry.
Husband: Ok. I will get the treatment.
Wife: You’re sorry? You didn’t tell me that you were dying and you think that I’m sorry will do?
Wife: Thank you.
Husband:I don’t know what to say.
Wife: Of course I will.
Wife: How about you tell me what was going through your mind that you would forget to mention something like that.
Husband: You just have to promise to stay by my side no matter what. They get up off the couch and hug.
Husband: I didn’t want you to remember me as a dying man. I want you to remember me as I am.
Blackout
Wife: You aren’t who you are. You are not the man I married. I don’t even recognize you.
The scene opens to the Husband and Wife in two chairs next to each other in a doctor’s office.
Husband: I’m sorry. I thought that pushing you away would be easier. Wife: Easier on who? Husband: I don’t know. I didn’t think it through. Wife: You’re damn right you didn’t think it through. Are you doing any treatment?
SCENE 16
Doctor: So, you would like to continue with treatment? Husband: [looks at his Wife and reaches for her hand. She accepts it.] Yes. Blackout
Husband: No. Wife: Oh my God! What is wrong with
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