Phoenix - Spring 1998

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UT KNOXVILLE LIBRARY

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lrontributors JtawPlla#~.

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Fiction, the invention of the imagination, the abstraction of our ideas through words. The Phoenix

Stacy A. Radford graduated from UT last December with a double major in psychology and English-creative writing.

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supplemental edition, the Special Fiction

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Maureen Ann Mooney is a junior majoring in Englishcreative writing. [JF~

Literary and Art Magazine wishes to present this

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the University of Tennessee. The four stories included in this jssue showcase the creative endeavors of the students at the University, and their expression in the medium of fiction. We hope that you, the reader, will enjoy this experience as a part of the continuing creative tradition at the

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University.

Frederick Grim is a sophomore majoring in international relations and Russian.

J. Michae 1 Wender is a senior in English - technical and creative writing.

© copyright 1998 by Ihe Univer~ity of Tennessee, All rights reserved by the individual contributors. Phoenix is prepared cillllera-ready by the student slalT members and is published three times a year. Works of an, poetry. lietion, and non-fiction are accepted lhroughout the academic year. Send submissi6ns to Phoenix. room 5 Communications Building. 1345 Circle Plll'k Drive, Knoxville, Tennessee 37996-0314. The Plu)en;,' would like 10 eXlend special Ihanks 10 Jane pope, Eric Smith, Linda Graham, Karen Bayless, Betty Allen, and Debbie Tappan fol' Iheir va luable assistance in production of this issue,





; I was a wreck for of his life with that

but thiJlg: he ....n't the eye and lip). Dcies a defenseless person .do No: A defenseless person gets this done to her. So it's not the running over the neighbor's dog. I wouldn't be able to sleep at to


Oh God!

cologne, the thirty dollar silk socks, the fourcrap that he "has" to have. He'd heen on a time he went he'd give me hell for 8Ol1lletJhlnig~ some item that I packed wrong. So I '1M, ....,~• .oli ment hag so that there are no the market and pick up a box of and wait.





of meaningless voices turned up the street -I didn't mean to thing and 1WW I havefo'i~ott~~ She screamed and said happened but it did but from this dream. My terrible disarray from a terrible My dad did it so I can say It was my fa,mily that made me do it. It was them not me I am good I have always been good. l will teLl them that I was going to be a writer that my mom always said I was talented and I could do anything I wanted and look at what I have done with all this. It was the coke and the whiskey it was not me I am not like that. They will see that and let me go. She was cheating anyway. How can a man have a woman cheatin' on him. They just don't know what it does to a m'an. They don't care either. In love both are halves of a whole but we were separate no matter how much I wanted her. I loved her when she sat on top looking down smiling I loved her and that is the truth. I'll tell them that. They'lll,tnderstand those men will and It'l[ be all right. I loved her I swear it all this was an aberration. I wish all

7WfI) I C(.pl't. I gleaming white . "It's . .. She was saying and all twisted up comdown after going up so hard and she dU;ln't understand. She never did. When they wouldn't publish me it was all a commonplace nothing to her she never heard anything in being so separate. Never two parts of a whole but two planets in a universe eons apart. Separate she was separate and Dad was separate and I am separate from them all. I never meant for this. I ~ meant for this at'4ll. Before when we went to the Emergency ward she had slJ/fered a mi@rlaJJ. What do you caIJ this though. What do I sayMter crossing Sixteenth street he reached the block that George lived on (1633 Forest Ave. Apt .#l I<noxville TN 37916 since condemned by city ordinance 001256- A14 Knoxville Department in charge of evictions and condeninations). Cars sped by on Seventeenth street towards the Interstate or maybe University Avenue with. a caustic hissing like acid burning through a hole. SOmewhere a few hlqcks away there was a gunshot and more squealing of tires. Grime and escape. The yard of George's building was covered in a springy blanket of frozen crabgrass. Pieces of trash, some white and some colored, were molded onto grass by a succession of rains. The frost sparkled when looked at while ' . . The yard was a blaze with reflected lamplight. One of the windows an orange UT sticker over a background of checkered curtains that had faded nearly white in spots. Above that window a tie- dyed tapestry with fraternity letters loomed, obscenely ugly, in one of the upstairs windows. He glanced across the streeL at the burnt out hulk that George woke up L'o see first thing every morning. It was an old style house with a crumbling brick staircase that ended in a crumbling wooden porch. Across the front of the siding "Justice is Served" was Wl'iUen in red spray painl. About a year ago a man had lived there who, by some accounts, had raped the sister of one of the punk kids thl;1t roamed around the Fort. The next night a group of about twenty angry punl}s had shown up at this house. They stormed in after lOcking the door in half and beaL the man who lived there into quadriplegia. On their way out, someone lobbed a Molotov cocktail into the house after spray paint-


ing the ~e on the front as a. r~der to transgressors. ever caught for that crime hut the Brother later went to jail f ot heating his girlfriend after a night of drinking. He walked up on George's XfIl'd thinking ahout that little piece 0 Fort Sanders lore. When he got to ~ door he placed his hand on the kno 路 h hut only in the cold. He and froze. He did not turn at that moment, deeply tir just go to sleep. -My dark wood of error. This'

and faster Her going "slow OOw'lt." High plaintive cry the needle past one hundred and I was thinking "crash the car." She had cheated on me. She did cheat on me. What kind of man am I? The wood sped by a quick tum of the wheel and it wouliIhave all been over If only Ilfad turned the wheel. 'WhaI i10 I say to George? I will teIjthim - no I won't.

I used to love her... Guns n' Roses ha ha oh if he only knew to what his exhortations led. "It was society officer, you know what these songs can do." What do I say to George? I could go to Wal-Mart and get a gun. Tennessee state drivers license nd two hundred dollars. They'll say a crime of passion and then the pangs of . . I don't really feel guilty. I should. I am scared. Everything is different now and it will never go back. I am learned is what I'll say and maybe it will go back to what it was. / am sorry, / wish I was sorry. I don't know 1 don't know. If/get a gun / can be a tree. 1 am tired. All the world for a little rest. But it was her fault she didn't care what she did to me. She didn't care a bit none a them bitches do. None care they just use you up. They'll understand that - they are men too He opened the door and slepped inside. He was immediately hil with a crowd of rampaging smells. He not so much walk into the room 'as swim into 1t. He was drowning in all the smells and the hysterically loud television lhat was backed by thick bass coming from the speakers. George was lying on his couch with half-lidded eyes. In one hand he twirled a metal pipe that had scorch marks at one end arId electrical tape around the other. "Yo David what's happenin'?" George's lips barely seemed to enunciate the words.

in a river of shit -

are fucked up!" He said. this telethon~. They got up slowly. He reached over ee couch. On the table there was a dozens of small yellow slivers of rock. He picked a them into the scorched end of the pipe. He did this aD very Alnw-nrJa,'" U ter loading his pipe he took up the lighter ipe foJ,' a moment before puffing it. He held lungs for a moment. "Wanta hit?" He croaked, smoke .poured from his tremendous streams. "Sure." ~ process was repeated.

, -1 am immersed.

To Wal-Mart only two hundred. -

He put the pipe to his lips after heating it. The roerlmmed with a $light cracking sound and t~ smoke tasted Jike hospi~:u.ntiseptic. The television screamed into the tnorning, into the slowly ~ mm. A man with bUShy eyehro~ screamed "Give money, give money."

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-1 ain't got no money. She screamed she screamed like the bUZl. bitch, you bitch." I screamed. I hit her and she bled. I hit her: wild she was screaming but I couldn't stop a robot I was a robot I was a robot arm moving up and down mechanically. No no she screamed and then I put the pillow over her head. She was screaming and / was screaming and everything spun around and around He exhaled and almost immediately his head was ringing. -/ hit her / hit her. Why did I? Dongggg ding dong. This river runs deep. Why did /? The unavoidable unanswerable question. 1 remember her screams 1 remember my own why. / was on her chest "You are hurting me." She said before it aU started spinning. / must repent "Repent saith the Lord" / must bow down before all men, not a marlyr just a criminal. He handed the pipe to George. "Man I fLicked up. George ... " he stammered. George cut him off. "Yo don't talk man just chill on the ride." The tel~vision flickered weird dancing patterns acrOss his face. The bass boomed through his head as


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her son. taking her hand frolll her purse. "You tri;ghltei1~d for a moment, young man." "Please forgive IJ1e, Mrs. Patterson." The old woman started to speak, but the man interrupted her. "You are very gracious. Thank you for f otgiving me. And, as you are about to say, since we're acquainted you should know my name." Extending his hand, he said, "I am Edward S. Papadoras, the Second." "That' 8 nice, " she ~id turning her attention back to her grocery list. Mr. Papadoras' lip parted a fraction. He withdrew his extended "Thanks, " Mrs. Patterson said without looking up. She took a pen from behind her ear, placed one end in her mouth and removed the cap holdhand and brushed his hair back. ing it between her lips. She mumbled whiJe she wrote, "Let me see ...get . . "Do you think you might help me pick out some nice apples, Mr . .cat. .. food. Hot. ..dogs ...instead of hamburgers. Yes, hot dogs do sound Papadoras?" she asked. good 1m lunch tomocrow." She capped he.· pen .nd placed it behind he, ~ "01 com",. " M,. Pap.dor", replied. He pre,,,,d his lip, toge!hc•• 1~:::$i~id:Mrs. . Pa.tter$()n


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'~Wh(),$ yaw: fri(}M, , ~$;. ....1I'·ft~i~t''"F "My friend?'" :Mr.~. ·Pattetl!!O:n . over her shoulder. "Oh, JI1:6«n'rum, "sb:~ :~a:pointi~. "That's Mr....err...um- ,;,

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', ~'ra:pAa~ik~,:';, he- interjected offering his hand to the young woman behind' ili~ 'tegiste:r': 'They shook, and Mr.Papadoras received sevel'ai strong

mental pictures. Her bags in hand, Mrs. Patterson walked out of the store leaving Mr. Papadoras talking with the cashier. As the automatic doors shut behind her, she barely heard the cashier say, "Oh, that's amazing! How'd you know that? Are you psychic?" 'The bus wasn't long in coming. Once Mrs. Patterson had g~tten sit... . uated, she sat down, leaned back, and closed her eyes. 'The bus started to move. Then it stopped. From the back of the bus, Mrs. Patterson watched the man hand over his tokens. He looked vaguely familiar. Then Mrs. Patterson remembered, and she returned to rubbing her tired calves. Slightly out of breath, Mr. Papadoras sat down beside her. "Whew, " he said. "I almost missed the bus!" Mrs. Patterson gave a slight nod. "You know, Mrs. Patterson, my intuition tells me a most wonderful surprise will be waiting in the mail for you." "That's nice, " she said. Mr. Papadoras could tell she wasn't in a talkative mood. Moreover, his special abilities made this especially apparent. So, he decided to be quiet while they rode. Besides, he thought, there would be ample opportunity for

catoe to: the letter she placed it mthe wtllsteba~lk¢;fJ~~4~~h~j ®1t/ J\!fK;Pat:lad'Clra:s'fr'OWltled "Bring them in followed, pausing to stoop "d.',O"Wlrf:an(l f¢!~~!Y:~ :tij~J.I~tt~~r. Patterson started giving instructioru.; fm~' DillffilO1! Mr. Papadoras intelTilpi~d, you always throw these away?"', , Mrs. Patterson looked to see,what' he was holding. She chuckled., "Those things1 Ed McMahon is always sending llle mail, trying to get.inednhis sweepstakes. The 'chances of winning are probably one in a billion, n :shesaid. "Besides, I don't have time to fool with that stuff." Mr. Papadoras breathed deeply. "Let me assure you this letter is worth your time. If you send this in, I am absolutely positive you'll win ten million dollars." "Oh, . really, " said Mrs. Patterson. "Yes, really! I can prove it to you." Mr. Papadoras looked around, waving his hands in the air. He put his hand to his forehead. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and grinned. "The phone is going to ring in ten seconds! It's going to be .... " Mr. Papadoras closed his eyes. "It's going to be-" He pursed his lips. "YoW'sister! Yes, your sister!" The phone rang. Mr-. Papadoras smiled. Mrs. Patterson lifted the


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