Amulet 2014

JUBILEE: AMULET 2014 VOLUME XVII, ISSUE I

AMULET 2014 VOLUME XVII, ISSUE I

amulet staff 2014 co-editors-in-chief

staff

Caroline Kessler Caitlin Wagner

Kate Granruth Cory Kleinman Liz Miller Nick Pol Libby Rensin

jubilee Jubilee is a celebration of creativity, commemorating the emerging imaginative minds of our generation. It is a triumph every time we foster creativity: the satisfied smile after finding the perfect words, the admiring glance toward one’s artwork after the last brushstroke is applied, and the fulfilling sensation of holding warm papers fresh off the printer. Jubilee is a tribute to the budding writers, poets, and artists who are inspired by their world to express themselves through ingenuity.

mission statement Amulet is a literary-art magazine showcasing the creative efforts of Wakefield’s Lower and Middle Schools, including works from students in grades Pre-Kindergarten through eight. it is designed and produced by a small staff of students under the supervision of a faculty advisor. In choosing pieces for publication, the staff strives to highlight originality in content and expression, and to offer a broad range of genres and subject matter.

* thanks to...

- Kate, Liz, Cory, Nick, and Libby: You all have been the best Amulet günstlings we could ever ask for. Your enthusiasm and dedication to this magazine helped to make Amulet possible this year. Thanks for doing all of our odd jobs, begging teachers for submissions, and bringing gusto every Friday afternoon.

- Mr. Genther: For your infinite knowledge of design and Apple computers - Ms. Duke: For letting us “borrow” student’s artwork - Dr. Perry: For your endless witticisms and inspiration as a human being - Lower and Middle School Teachers: For encouraging your students to submit and enduring our repeated pleas for submissions - Cupcake Heaven & Panera: For letting us lurk at your tables for countless hours - Disney: For your melodious tunes that filled the Talisman room and distracted us from working on Amulet - Rolfe and Siegfried: For backing us up every step of the way - Caitlin/Caroline: Great minds think alike * GOD SAVE THE QUEEN

JUBILEE amulet 2014 volume xvii issue i

wakefield school 4439 old tavern road the plains, virginia 20198 wakefieldamulet@gmail.com phone: (540) 253-7600 fax: (540) 253-5492

table of contents prose

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10 14 34 38 44 48

Walker Rich Arabella Westbrook Gabriella Handford Fiona Evans-Wells Justin Kim Kylee Hendrie

57 62

Rowan Fuchs Kylee Hendrie

65 70 73

Claiborne Van Voorhis Daniel McLinden Kanon Orr

78 84

Jordan Kach Gwynn Major

poetry 8 9 12 17 18 21 22

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Bryan Wiggins Brooke Ballhaus Nada Ismael Lamis Amar Audrey Brown Kelton Campos Emma Rensin

Home and the Pepper Flight School The Refrigerator Feed-a-Moo Bank Robbery Thumbprint of a Moon Princess Evolve Nothing Beats Turtle Catching Mr. Sock Art Dealing Wandering Towards Death Three Days at Sea Sparrows and Frogs

Dawn Stars Fire and Ice The World We Used to Be Happy Shadows Oh Dear Me, a Flea!

table of contents 23 24 27 29

Gabriella Handford Lorelei Campbell Lorelei Campbell Kevin Dwelly

30 32 33 36 37 43

Jordan Kach Landscape Darcy Marcoux Grace Seaborn Lorelei Campbell Max Schaefer and James Reid Nick Spiewak Lorelei Campbell Meridith Clifford Gabriella Handford Andrew McKee Wesley Hinchman Katherine Russell Hannah Meixner Lizzy Keys Sydney Butler Philippa Hechl

45 46 47 61 66 68 69 74 77 81 82

Defining Freedom The King The Colt If I Were the Wild Wind Skiing Margaret Presgrave What I Want Undecided Sky The Tiger Take a Stand Darkness The Snake Landscape Blindness The Fight for Justice Ode to Snow Air Parrot/Sun The Night Feeling Warmth Pause in Time

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table of contents artwork 8 9 10 13 19 20 22 24 25 27 28 34 37 39 40 44 45 46 47 49 51 53 55 56

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Porter Presgrave Grace Sacripanti Inara Junkala Nora Ferrante Lorelei Campbell James Reid Alexander Garst Darcy Marcoux Wesley Hinchman Brooke Ballhaus Alexandra van der Woude Pricilla Gravett Sadie Bushara Robert Guiney Alexandra Adrian Andrew Maraska Andrew Renz Nora Ferrante Wesley Hinchman Brianna Handford Brooke Ballhaus Alexandra Adrian Brianna Handford Sandro D’Agostino

Tree Eye Heart Abstract Faces Ink Monster Colors Lion Blocks Horse Starry Night Abstract Tiger Truck Storm Cloud Cliff Hanging Trick or Treat Snake Tree Rose Unicorn Self Portrait Owl Nightscape

table of contents 59 60 64 65 67 68 69 71 72 74 75 77 79 80 83 84 85 86 88

Jared Cole Maura Thompson Alex Garst Kayla Swede Gwynn Major Tegan Mellish Thomas Mossburg Wesley Hinchman Christopher Wagner Rober Millian Chandler Brown Talia Beavers Jordan Kach Sophia Andrews Kayla Swede Hannah Meixner Sadie Bushara Peter Ohrstrom Madeline Koch

photography 17 30 32 43

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Allegra Solari Sadie Bushara Margaret Presgrave Eleanor Winants

Abstract Devil Turtle Abstract Hands Dots Bridge Faces Triangles Parrot Tree Wolf Ship Snow Globe Hand Chickadee Flora Circles Self Portrait

Altitude Slopes Wakefield Smoke 7*

PORTER PRESGRAVE GRADE SEVEN

daw n The rosy fingers of dawn run over the hills.

The sun awakens from its sleep.

The sun runs up the highest mountain and watches all the day.

*8

BRYAN WIGGINS GRADE THREE

stars

GRACIE SACRIPANTI GRADE EIGHT

Winter, moonlit stars, Diamonds in the pitch-black sky, Shines bright like the sun.

BROOK BALLHAUS GRADE FOUR

9*

home pepper

ARTWORK BY INARA JUNKALA GRADE SIX

and the

Sitting still, Papa asked quietly, “Linda, what did you put in the salad?” We were having Sunday dinner. Our tradition is that every Sunday we sit down and eat as a family. Sometimes it is not exciting, but it still makes me feel at home. We share and create memories at the dinner table. This Sunday night, though, was exciting and memorable.

To me, tradition is a flower that drops a seed and grows again and again. All our Sunday night dinners, exciting or not, have grown into a giant bouquet filled with seeds of memories that remind me of home. This laughter-filled night welded a hilarious and joyful memory. Like ice, memories preserve the feeling of a moment. Our home was so full of joy and excitement, and that dinner was so much fun, it brought my whole family to tears of joy. Fun is a meal that fills you with pleasure, just like that Sunday dinner. When Mama put the peppers in the salad, I presume she was trying to flavor the salad.

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When Papa was served, he did not know this.

He engulfed the whole thing in one voracious bite.

Papa showed no reaction to the powerful pepper. A couple of minutes later, Papa’s mouth was a raging inferno. Papa quickly snatched my brother Will’s glass and guzzled down its contents. He grasped for the bottle of expensive, rare Burgundy he had opened before dinner, but he could not taste it! His taste buds were seared; Papa literally could not taste his food! The whole event was simply hilarious.

When Papa could not stand it any longer, he dashed to the kitchen like a man on a mission. He pulled a gallon of cold milk from the refrigerator and drank it all up. After his refreshing drink, the milk cooled down the burnt ruins of his tongue. Everyone was making jokes and laughing like hyenas. Everyone was so happy that tears of delirious joy were streaming down our pink cheeks. Even Papa was having fun, despite his burning mouth.

This family dinner made me feel at home because we had an entertaining night where we could all be ourselves. That one special dinner made us all feel content. During that one night, all of us were enclosed in impenetrable fort with walls the size of the Great Wall of China. The one difference between them, however, is that our walls were made of the joy and love we call family. To me, all this love and joy make a few improvements to my life.

This is my home.

WALKER RICH GRADE FIVE

*

11 *

NADA ISMAEL GRADE EIGHT

Fire & Ice The moment rushes like a wild fire, My heartbeat breaks into a fast-paced beat, I stop to catch my breath as I look away.

My heart slows down, And the moment freezes like ice.

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NORA FERRANTE GRADE EIGHT 13 *

F L I G H T S C H O O L M

y stepmother, Anne, was 35 when she began flight school. She said that flight school was really scary and exciting. Her instructor was a lot younger than she was, so she wondered if he knew a lot about flying airplanes and teaching other people. As soon as she got in an airplane with him, she realized he knew a lot.

Then she realized that flying was very complicated, and she needed to study very hard if she wanted to accomplish her goal on becoming a pilot.

She didn’t start flying airplanes until she was 36 years old. Flight school wasn’t the only thing Anne did; she worked at a bank in New York City. Having a full-time job took up a lot of her time, so she only had time to fly on weekends. During this time Anne lived in New York, so when she flew she had to take a train to Delaware. Later on, Anne bought herself a small airplane and kept it in Delaware to fly on the weekends. She was only permitted to fly single

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engine airplanes. Her airplane had a 150 horsepower engine, which was a very small engine.

In 1998, Anne stopped flying airplanes because of her new baby. She didn’t have the time to fly when she had a small child and a full time job. Anne didn’t take up any hobbies after flying. She wants to take up flying again, but still doesn’t have enough time to.

When Anne was becoming a certified pilot, she had to take a flight test. She had to do a “Long Cross Country” which means you have to leave your home airport and fly at least an hour to airports you have never been to. The morning of the test, she woke up and put her blue jeans on. When she got to the airport, she dropped something and went to pick it up, but when she bent down her jeans ripped. She had to fly airport to airport with a huge rip in her pants. That was a funny thing that happened to her when she was a pilot.

A scary thing Anne remembers is when she flew into New York City at night and started flying over the Verrazano Bridge at about 200 feet above the bridge. There were two stanchions on bridge that she flew right between. As she flew over the Hudson River, she turned left into Teterboro Airport, which is a private airport. She was clear to land on runway 1- 9. As she was landing, 15 *

the guy in the control tower started yelling and telling her to descend to 500 feet, which is below minimums. He told her to fly back towards Manhattan, which was a violation of airspace rules. She didn’t know what was going on until she looked off of her instrument panel, and this huge jet was flying right at her. She had to quickly do as the man in the control tower commanded. After everything was okay, she safely landed.

THE WORLD LAMIS AMAR GRADE ONE

The world is so far and wide.

Far for a plane to reach,

A wonderful place to be.

ARABELLA WESTBROOK GRADE SEVEN

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PHOTOGRAPH BY ALLEGRA SOLARI GRADE EIGHT 17 *

we used to be happy .

We u s e d t o b e h a p p y.

We used to have parties, be friends, used to have celebrations.

That was before it happened.

That was before our world was destroyed, Buildings were ruined; our lives tumbled down.

Pi単atas, shredded and smoking, hung in the breeze, swinging silently.

The wind is always cold, filled with fog, And the sun has never risen Since it happened.

People walk down the streets alone, Covering their faces, avoiding eye contact.

There is no laughing, no playing, no friends, People stay inside, cold, like statues.

We u s e d t o b e h a p p y.

AUDREY BROWN GRADE SEVEN

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LORELEI CAMPBELL GRADE THREE

19 *

JAMES REID GRADE SIX

Shadows are dusky; shadows are dark.

How I wonder if ghosts roam the dark.

An apple tree in the middle of town drops apples all around.

Dark ghosts tell each other that fall is coming; Owls in the trees say, “fall is near!”

Wind in the air blowing everywhere, Spring leaves in the air—fall is here!

Shadows

KELTON CAMPOS GRADE FOUR

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21 *

defining Oh Dear Me, a Flea!

EMMA RENSIN GRADE TWO

One day, I went walking with my dog on the beach.

When we got home, I saw a flea Then, I screamed, “Oh dear me! A Flea!”

I screamed so loudly that a three year old started to screech.

Finally, a bee came and stung me.

“Ouch!”

freedom

To many, freedom means one thing: Being free But to me, freedom isn’t that easy to define My mind tries to grab definitions, But their always out of reach Is freedom being able to say anything?

Or is it running down a hill, hands out to grab sunlight?

Is walking out of school, into summer vacation freedom?

Can it be sitting in a treetop, The wind combing its gentle fingers through your hair?

Is freedom even able to be defined?

Or is it unexplainable, Only an idea, A thousand-faced word.

GABRIELLA HANDFORD GRADE SIX ALEXANDER GARST GRADE THREE

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23 *

T K

H I

E N

G

LORLELEI CAMPBELL GRADE THREE

The king roars, Letting everyone know he is the boss.

He is angry, he is fierce, He is the king of all animals.

DARCY MARCOUX GRADE ONE

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WESLEY HINCHMAN GRADE FIVE

colt the

LORLELEI CAMPBELL GRADE THREE

The naughty boy gallops through the field.

He neighs to the other horses, Stomping and nickering, And running in the sunlight.

BROOKE BALLHAUS GRADE FOUR

27 *

If I Were the Wild Wind If I were the wild wind, I would howl like a wolf in the moonlight.

I would give the comfort of coolness on a summer day.

I would roam around countries, near and far.

I would swirl and sweep around tall buildings And over countryside.

I would make the blades of grass tremble.

I am the home of the clouds and heavens, And soaring birds that enjoy their freedom.

I am as high as a ram on the peak of the Alps.

I am as low as the dirt, which no one cares to see.

I’d roar when I’m angry, like a protective mother lion.

I’d whistle when I’m calm, like the soothing waterfall I’d whisper as soft as a lamb to let you know I was around.

The plants thank me for carrying their seeds, And the birds sing in gratitude for my help.

If I were the wild wind, I’d be humble and enjoy the beauty all around.

KEVIN DWELLY GRADE SIX

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ALEXANDRA VAN DER WOUDE GRADE TWO

29 *

JORDAN KACH GRADE FOUR

skiing

Frosty winds blowing Mountains cold with white caps bright Soft snow for skiing * 30

SADIE BUSHARA GRADE EIGHT 31 *

what i want

DARCY MARCOUX GRADE ONE

*Landscape

MARGARET PRESGRAVE GRADE TWO

Autumn leaves are red as an apple.

The sun is bright in my face.

The leaves are as crunchy as crumpled paper.

Everything was pretty…

It still is.

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When I am at school I like to be with my friends.

But when I am at my house I feel like I need something.

I figured out what I wanted Because at school I don’t feel that way.

I want my friends.

I like being with my teachers and friends.

33 *

GABRIELLA HANDFORD GRADE SIX

]

I open the sleek black door, and it greets me with a gentle squeak. A miniature sun pulls me into focus, and a crisp scent of lettuce is mixed with raspberry jelly. It has lived in our house as long as I have. Sometimes it moans, as if it knows that it’ll soon be destined for the dump. It occasionally groans, overhearing rumors of kitchen redesign and new appliances, bracing itself for the dump.

On the top shelf is a truckload of health foods, namely a plastic cage of frightened grapes, clustered together, waiting to be guillotined by someone’s canines. A bunch of other edibles gather around their jailed violet friends, whispering on how to free them. The fresh olives sit in the back, sitting in a pool of their tears, because they will also soon be in for the death treatment. On the next shelf sits a lazy bunch of margarines and spreads, not caring what happends next in their life. Below, an infinite number of Naked juices in rows of two are waiting to march into a battle that will never happen.

A box of spring mix sprawls around in its plastic

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]

]

[

THE REFRIGERATOR

den, and a tub of sour cream huddles up next to him, craving his attention. A frightened yogurt and scared pudding hunker behind a homemade butternut squash soup, and a Styrofoam container of eggs casts a dark shadow over everything. Under that, there is a crowded party of milks and juices, peering excitedly out at the door, ready to be looted of its contents. Under, is an overflowing produce drawer, An infinite number of with carrots Naked juices in rows of and peppers two are waiting to march crammed into a battle that will with boxes never happen. of berries.

Under them lives a protein power pack, a drawer crammed with cheese of every kind. The side of the refrigerator holds jars and bottles of every king. At the very bottom, sticky chocolate syrup brings me back to Hershey, Pennsylvania, the world’s chocolate capitol.

I can almost smell the melted sweetness and the taste of sweet cocoa, before I am snapped out of dreamland by my dog, licking my toes.

*

ARTWORK BY PRICILLA GRAVETT GRADE FIVE

35 *

GRACE SEABORN GRADE EIGHT

UNDECIDED SKY The sky is clear,

THE TIGER LORLELEI CAMPBELL GRADE THREE

But rain still falls Undecided sky.

The sun still shines Not a cloud to be seen, But rain still falls Undecided sky.

The ground is muddy, But the grass is green.

Rain and sun together, It is spring!

The tiger moved toward me to feast, Blurring everything in it path.

I had no choice but to run, But, in the end, he killed everything.

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ARTWORK BY SADIE BUSHARA GRADE EIGHT 37 *

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FIONA EVENS-WELLS GRADE FIVE

Now let me introduce the Feed-A-Moo, a cattle farmer’s best friend. I know that an astronomical amount of farmers consistently have bad weather and manually have to feed those boring old cows.

When there is a wintry blizzard outside you just want to lay down and relax, but you cannot because the cows are mooing annoyingly every second of the long day. If you do not feed the cows they will lay down and go to the great cow fields in the sky. Then you will be left with a field of cows that have passed away. You would have to buy a new herd of cows which will cost you more than feeding them in the blustery, frosty and windy snow storm, so you may as well feed those irritating cows. The Feed-A-Moo is for anyone who needs to feed cows when they have bad weather and who do not want

ROBERT GUINEY GRADE FIVE

F E E D A M O O

Are you exhausted from constantly carrying noxious, heavy, brown grain sacks to the fence?

Have you almost frozen to death or gotten frostbite on your frigid journey to the snow covered fields?

Do your arms get tired from hauling all those large and uncomfortable sacks of feed when there is some atrocious weather you must feed the ravenous cows because they cannot get to the brown, dead grass?

No one likes that job! Who wants to do back breaking work in the middle of a snowstorm? You just want to relax.

Listen up ranchers. You do not need to use up as much time and energy thanks to the new Feed-AMoo. Don’t waste your precious and valuable snow days feeding the cows because now we have the most incredible invention for you. The FeedA-Moo helps complete the cold, tough, intense, and exhausting job of feeding cows or any large animal in bad weather.

39 *

to freeze to death outside, use up to much energy, or do lots of back breaking work. This invention is for farmers ages fifteen and up or anyone who feeds cows. The Feed-A-Moo is mainly for small farms up to 500 acres because the Feed-A-Moo is not a huge machine, but the Feed-A-Moo can cover some territory. The Feed-A-Moo can feed a whole field of cows.

In prototype, the Feed-A-Moo is sixty centimeters by sixty centimeters but can manufactured in any size you would like. The Feed-A-Moo is completely safe at all times, and you just need to drop a ball into the apparatus in a designated area and the machine will feed the cows for you. So I suggest you buy this fabulous and helpful invention because you want to be warm and toasty, and you do not spend too much time outside in bad weather. If you do not like feeding any large animal in bad weather than the Feed-AMoo is the right invention for you!

*

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ALEXANDRA ADRIAN GRADE SIX

ELEANOR WINANTS GRADE EIGHT

Take a Stand Take a stand to fate See the light in the darkness Make your destiny.

MAX SCHAEFER & JAMES REID GRADE SIX

43 *

L

ong ago during the night, there was a bank robbery in Providence, Rhode Island. Three robbers forced the bank manager to unlock the vault. The robbers stole all the gold on the tripod table. A meek wayfarer named Dan found the bank door open while he was taking a walk. He went in and saw the robbers forcing the bank manager to unlock more vaults. Dan quietly called the police and he waited. In less than five minutes, the policemen were at the bank. Three of the policemen snuck inside the bank while the rest surrounded it. Then, everyone came out. The vivacious policemen retrieved the gold and apprehended the robbers. The robbers were filled with ire as the police took them to jail. In the end, the bank manager was jovial because he didn’t lose any gold from the robbery.

BANK ROBBERY

*

* 44

JUSTIN KIM GRADE FOUR

Darkness NICK SPIEWAK GRADE FOUR

Dusty October leaves fall,

All the animals have a ball,

Run before the bears come out!

Knights are on the lookout,

No one knows what is in the dark.

Every night, bears scratch the bark.

Sneaky foxes steal stuff at night,

Spooky wind howls in dim light.

ANDREW MARASKA GRADE EIGHT

ANDREW RENZ GRADE FOUR 45 *

LORLELEI CAMPBELL GRADE THREE

THE SNAKE

WESLEY HINCHMAN GRADE FIVE

The snake wiggled through the sky.

Hissing in the wind, His green scales shimmer in the sunlight, Until the wind stopped and the snake fell.

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Landscape

The sky is gray as tinfoil.

The leaves are orange, red, and yellow And sound like fire when you step on them.

MERIDITH CLIFFORD GRADE TWO

NORA FERRANTE GRADE EIGHT

47 *

THUMBPRINT of a

BRIANNA HANDFORD GRADE SIX

moon princess

KYLEE HENDRIE GRADE SIX

The wind tore through my hair. I turned my bicycle around the corner. I passed the usual ‘Proceed with Caution, Kids at Play’ sign. It was autumn, and the leaves covered the ground as a red and yellow blanket. Kids were playing and tossing leaves up in the air and letting it rain down. One of them waved to me and yelled, “Hi Zee.” They were singing and laughing. I smiled to myself. It was pretty dark, because it was daylight savings. The clock turns back an hour. Even though I had a light attached to the handle, I could barely see. Suddenly, something jumped out of the bushes. I screeched to a stop. It was interposing himself from the rest of the road. I swear I saw some sort of goblin.

It had pointy ears and its face was green It stopped in front for a second, smiled, and then scrambled into the bushes. I went home and sat thinking. That was not real; it had to be a guy in a costume. Or was it? In the middle of the night, I woke up with a jolt. My back ached and ached; it hurt so much. I screamed into the pillow.

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49 *

* 50

Suddenly, it stopped. Thinking it was just a back pain, I ignored it. I was thirsty, and I got up to get water. I passed my bedroom mirror and froze. Looking back from the mirror was I… with wings. They were crystal with a tint of blue. They had a moon shape to each wing. They were beautiful. I started to flap my wings.

I rose a few inches off the ground, and I realized it was very easy to control. I flew to the top and sank down on my bed. This was preposterous; this could not possibly be real. It had to be a dream, and I pinched myself. Owww! my arm was throbbing. Oops that was too loud, and my mom ran into the room. She stopped and stood speechless. She looked at me like I was a new exhibit at the zoo, a newly discovered species.

I looked up and asked, “Mom, how did this happen? Do you have wings too?”

She bent down and sat on the floor, and she said, “Honey, there is something I need to tell you.”

I peered up at her in wonder. “Yes?” I asked.

“I don’t know how this happened,” she said, staring at the floor.

“How can you not know; you gave birth to me,” I said, irritated that she didn’t know.

“No Mackenzie, you were…adopted.

I found you on the step in a basket,” she said, avoiding eye contact with me.

I shrieked in fury: “What! How is that possible?”

Without another word, I stormed out of the room. I used the guest room that night.

I practiced folding in my wings. I held back many tears, but, eventually they all came out.

There was one thing I looked forward to: Mythical Creatures class. I was excited, but still mad at my mom from last night. I realized that even though she was not my birth mom, I still loved her. I went to her room and apologized. She held me and squeezed me.

She held up her hand and, in a fancy tone, said, “I proclaim that we shall never keep any secrets in this household again.”

I smiled and laughed. I went downstairs and I swallowed breakfast then slipped on my backpack.

BROOKE BALLHAUS Today, I had a GRADE FOUR new transportation to school.

My wings slipped through the armhole of my backpack. I flapped a few times, and then I was up in the air.

This was much better

51 *

* 52

than riding my bike. I joined a flock of geese, then dove down so I could see my reflection in a lake nearby.

I arrived at school and tucked my wings neatly in my back. I hurried to Mythical Creatures Class. I was greeted by a teacher at the door. She had beautiful golden hair.

She had icy blue eyes, but gentle rosy cheeks.

Her lips were bright red, and she looked outstanding. She looked at me and gasped.

I smiled at her, and she started to tear up. I looked at her, creeped out, and plastered on a smile. On the board it said, “My name is QT.” She stood in the middle of the class and looked at me.

She said, “We are going to learn about fairies.”

I turned to her and sat up straight. She held a book in her hands. She turned to me, “Do you believe in fairies?”

I looked at her confused, why would she ask that? I wondered. “Yes,” I said in a tone that even I was startled. A couple of kids started to laugh. She smiled at me and winked.

After school, I called my mom and told her that I would be coming late. She was first disappointed because it was family night, but I told her it had to be postponed.

She finally agreed, and I went into the library. Going to the library precedes getting

ALEXANDRA ADRIAN GRADE SIX

home very late, but I did it anyways. The library was named after Robert E. Lee posthumously. It was in the posterior of the school, because there was no room in the front or the side.

I scanned the aisle for the book that Mrs. QT had. The librarian looked down the aisle and waved at me. “Hi Mackenzie, I presume you are looking for a book?” I laughed and wrapped my arms around her.

53 *

She had been my librarian since first grade, and was a great one too.

She smiled and said, “You know where to find me.”

Then, with that, she was gone. My finger landed on a book on mythical creatures. It was on the end of the shelf. It was dirty and smelly. I plonked it down on a desk and dust flew everywhere. I went to the index. I whispered to myself, Fairies, fairies, fairies, where are they? Here they are. The index said they were on page three hundred forty-five. I flipped to the page, but there was no page three hundred fortyfive, only three hundred forty-four and three hundred forty-seven.

There was a little thumbprint on the side of the page. It was in a weird position. It was just above the page number, and crooked. I put my finger over the thumbprint. Ouch! It nicked me and blood fell onto the thumbprint. The page split in two, revealing page three hundred forty-five. I gasped in astonishment.

I read the page; it was about the queen of fairies, Queen Titania. She had a daughter and she was fairy of the moon. She was kidnapped by a goblin when she was little. The way she posed for the photo looked as if she was very happy. I gasped and stared dumbfounded at the book.

I got up and knocked on QT’s door.

“Come in,” she said, without looking at the door.

I stepped inside. I dropped my bags, ran to her, and said, “What happened Mom?”

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*

BRIANNA HANDFORD GRADE SIX 55 *

* 56

SANDRO D’AGOSTINO GRADE SIX

evolve.

I was walking down the sidewalk; it was in the evening. The cement seemed to move by itself as it rolled into a steep hill. I was leaning forward. With another step forward, I was leaning back. I walked for another hour, my heart slowed, ticking seconds away and away, like old pennies, lost of their oncerevered ambulant shine. I continued walking until I stopped. A fence was in my vision, seemingly growing until it was both beyond vision and human comprehension; what monster was in my heart, in Those-That-Think’s thoughts. I looked to my back, up to a tower in the distance. Something was in the distance amidst the blueprints for war-machines, unlocked in the evolved new mind. I turned west.

The slums lay in shallow grids before me. I thought, let’s go home. But I didn’t have one. I walked toward the pinnacle of hate, another dimension almost. The outskirts were shacks. Some were dirt, some mud.

When I took away the sights, the smells were worse.

A large dog, with a gnarled wide-eyed face, looked at me. In a flash, it had started running, mouth drooling, straight to me. I knew it had suffered more than my price for a mutation we had felt, which opened the revelation that gave us the promise of blood and survival, in exchange for defeat. So I let it jump on me and eat the pain I had felt and ignored for years. I exchanged my life for the dog and the men in the tower: my dad was there.

*

ROWAN FUCHS GRADE SEVEN

JARED COLE GRADE EIGHT

59 *

blindness

Walking alone Not knowing where you are You hear voices But you can’t say anything Can’t call out in panic Or ask for help, you know you aren’t Blinded for good Only for a few minutes But you lose sense of time.

Is it because sight is gone And you can’t tell where you are?

My two eyes I never noticed how much I relied On them Until now.

After a quarter hour Of walking in darkness, Is there a fire in the building?

I didn’t know if the room had alarms I was in a column of fear Of darkness, loneliness Not knowing danger until the heat Brushes against your skin.

I blink, and it seems an opposite universe Where my blinking allows a sliver of light Of hope That I would soon be freed From my dark column Of fear.

MARA THOMPSON GRADE SIX

* 60

GABRIELLA HANDFORD GRADE SIX 61 *

KYLEE HENDRIE GRADE SIX

* nothing beats

Turtle Catching The quiet and muddy cove caught my eye.

It was the perfect place, and it had one big word plastered all over it, Turtles. I looked into the sky as a vulture soared overhead and made a loud screech that broke my thoughts. I was in West Virginia; I wasn’t far from a small town called Capon. My dad and I were running in the stream. The real reason that he came to West Virginia was to collect some sphagnum moss from the forest nearby, but he agreed to go to the Capon stream, the real reason I came along. I waited for my dad to finish catching the fish in the shallow sandy area.

“Hurry up dad,” I said, for I was very impatient.

I looked at myself. I was covered in thick gray mud that now dried in hard pieces, stuck to my shorts and shirt. It was from the previous turtle that I caught. The tough, small fighter was a painted turtle. He was a gorgeous creature but fought like a monster. Today was the day; I could smell it in the air. Today would be the day where I caught the legendary twenty-pound snapping turtle. Sure I’ve

* 62

caught small snappers, maps, painteds, musks, woods, and red-ears. I let them all go, of course, but today I will catch my snapping turtle. My dad was now next to me, and I was one-hundred percent confident. I waded into the thick, gooey mud. At the end of the cove, it was completely surrounded with saw grass. I looked down to see exactly what I was looking for: disI let them all go, of turbance. Not just any disturbance, course, but today turtle disturbance.

I will catch my The mud was snapping turtle. kicked up; I could not see a thing, so I felt around. “Dad, dad, dad, it’s a…” I pulled it out of the mud, “It’s a, It’s a rock.”

It disappointed me, and I backed out of the cove. Then I thought, Just go and try again, the disturbance is there for something.

I went back in the cove. Then I felt a hard shell and said “Dad give me a stick.”

He handed me the net. My dad has been around turtles for all his life, and he can identify a species with the sound of the shell. I gave the shell one soft klunk.

He grinned and said, “Snapper.”

The shell was pretty big, so I sent my dad in.

A few seconds later, he came out with a twentypound snapper, as big as an average school desk.

{

}

63 *

I said to myself, “I was stuck in a cove no bigger than a small coffee table with a gigantic twentypound snapper? Wow.” I held the gigantic snapper by the tail and looked at him, his jaws trying to bite me. The only time a snapper would ever bite is if he thought his life was going to end. I dragged him out to the center of the stream. Then I released him, and he went dashing down the river.

I said to my dad, “Nothing beats turtle catching,” and he just nodded.

*

Mr. Sock CLAIBORNE VAN VOORHIS GRADE SEVEN

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*

ALEX GARST GRADE THREE

* 64

ARTWORK BY KAYLA SWEDE GRADE EIGHT

65 *

THE FIGHT FOR

JUSTICE

GWYNN MAJOR GRADE FIVE

ANDREW MCKEE GRADE TWO

Holy Lord to the Land of liberty For which our nations gather Where we first began.

We will die for justice For which our nations stand And we all fight For freedom’s kind And the people’s cry.

We’ve just begun To fight for justice, While people fight for freedom’s kind Like wars spreading through cool air.

But we have found Our freedom’s kind, While wars spread through our blood. * 66

67 *

Ode to Snow

THOMAS MOSSBURG GRADE SEVEN

WESLEY HINCHMAN GRADE FIVE

Oh, Snow, you are perfect.

You fall like twinkling angels.

Your elegance covers the world in joy.

Oh, Snow, you become a dancing toy.

We sculpt, sled, and dance with you.

You drip on the sky canvas.

You are as quiet as a mouse, whispering yuletide carols.

You bring a blissful aura of cheer.

You bury grass and dirt, and reveal white winter beauty.

You delay tests, and traffic tries to exile you but stands no chance.

You sting wind and air; you also scare the bear.

Snow always brings youth for all.

You come late in fall.

Like a soldier, you are feared and loved.

You freeze the world from here and above.

You are limitless.

The cold of winter is in your bitter grasp.

You never stop bringing youth and blissfulness.

* 68

TEGAN MELLISH KINDERGARTEN

I stand there, There is where it is silent, I stand there in thin air.

air

The city unites into a hush As if it could sound a child to sleep.

Shush!

The city leaps and leaps For I know that it will waste All the air ever known.

The air is now nothing to keep For the city that never sleeps.

KATHERINE RUSSELL GRADE SEVEN 69 *

DANIEL MCLINDEN GRADE SEVEN

ART DEALING People would always talk about my great-greatgreat-grandfather who was an artist and an “art dealer,” but it wasn’t his artist side they would always talk about. It was a mystery about what he meant by “art dealer,” which always rose an eyebrow or two in the family. One day we wanted the mystery to be solved, so we took some of his paintings around the world to the Musee du Louvre--the world’s most important art museum to ever be constructed. The museum took a look at our paintings, only to find the most extraordinary news.

It turned out my great-great-great-grandfather’s art deals were more like art steals. The paintings he stole came to a grand total of 150 million dollars. Now, no ordinary person would let money like that just fly away from their grasp, now would they? So my family did the only sensible thing: run, run away as far as they could run and hopped on the nearest plane. My great....... ugh, you know what let’s just say he was a pretty great grandfather, he passed on his business to our family, “art dealing.”

*

* 70

WESLEY HINCHMAN GRADE FIVE 71 *

WANDERING TOWARD DEATH KANON ORR GRADE FOUR

CHRISTOPHER WAGNER GRADE EIGHT

* 72

Once upon a time, there was a vivacious knight who was energetic and jovial.

His job was to apprehend anyone who trespassed on his lordâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s manor. One day, a poor and meek wayfarer wandered into the land. The knight saw him and inoculated him with sleeping medicine. Then he gilded him and put him in the sculpture garden.

*

73 *

ROBERT MILLIGAN GRADE EIGHT

Parrots are the sun, How they creep over the rain forest, The sound he makes is beautiful But burns like fire.

He sings his song, Until twilight.

Where he then goes to sleep in the west.

HANNAH MEIXNER GRADE THREE

PARROT SUN * 74

CHANDLER BROWN GRADE FOUR

THE NIGHT LIZZY KEYS GRADE THREE

A dog with black fur as dark as Pluto Sits by my side and waits for me to Play with excitement in her starry eyes.

TALIA BEAVERS GRADE EIGHT

77 *

Three Days at Sea Dear Diary, My magic necklace took me back to the Godspeed. It is my favorite of the three ships that went to Jamestown. I am one of the crewmembers. I see people boarding the ship. There are goats, chickens, and cases of wine. We set sail. I heard some of the men say where we are going. We are going to Virginia. I helped pull the sails. There is a nice wind. It is good to have a nice wind. I hear wind, waves crashing against the sides of the ship, and seagulls.

I had to go below deck. I saw a man playing cards. I joined him. I got a great hand. I had three queens and two jacks. Only one ace. I won. I had lunch; it was beer bread and pickled fish. It is now night. My bunk is above deck. I sleep on only a blanket. When it is dawn, I wake up. It looks pretty. The sun is rising over the ocean. I have some more bread.

Then I have to go up to the steering wheel and give directions because the chartman was sick. I had to take his place. Oh wow! I see the name box. I put my hand on it, and one of the crewmembers slipped my hand. It hurt. I helped untangle a knot in the rigging.

It was a bad knot. It took me all day to undo.

* 78

Finally it was night. I got to sleep below deck tonight. The snoring and body odor got overwhelming. I got up. I have a cramp in my back from sleeping.

I get up and stretch it out. I play more cards. I thought I had a good hand. But I lost to William Smith in the first round. Then I played another round. I won with two aces and a jack. I have to climb the mast to pull the sail down. I almost fell but I caught myself. I go below deck and play chess against John Wranken.

I lost badly. He seemed very experienced. It is night again. I get into a confortable position, not like the last time. I fall right to sleep. In the morning, I feed the animals and help with the charts. I heard a fiddler playing. He got annoying after two hours. I climb up the mast to release the sails. I fall into myclassroom chair.

The magic has faded.

STORY AND ARTWORK BY JORDAN KACH GRADE FOUR 79 *

SOPHIA ANDREWS GRADE ONE

feeling

warmth

SYDNEY BUTLER GRADE FIVE

Waves of the warmth Engulf my body, my eyes hooked on the the blazing fire.

With delicious hot chocolate.

Cupped in my hands, the delightful hot chocolate Sprung with so much warmth.

Gazing transfixed at the wonderful dancing fire.

My body swayed. The scorching fire Burned as my eyes peeked into the sultry hot chocolate.

My face turned into a wide sparkling grin because of its delightful warmth.

Warmth is not from heat, it is from admirable love.

Although the wonderful blazing fire and the sizzling hot chocolate seemed like a miracle, it was love that was waiting to spread throughout my world.

* 80

81 *

PAUSE IN TIME

PHILIPPA HECHL GRADE EIGHT

Cold air gliding, Mountains have shushed, Day goes just by raining.

Spring on the calendar started, The weather is delayed, Making the start unpleasant.

Trees hang lonely, The day stays dark, Making a pause in timeâ&#x20AC;Ś

* 82

KAYLA SWEDE GRADE EIGHT

83 *

GWYNN MAJOR GRADE FIVE

sparrows & frogs

SADIE BUSHARA GRADE EIGHT

“W

hat is the price of five sparrows?”

Those are words taken from a verse in the Bible. As I read them again, they seem to poke and prod at me inside my mind. They are reminding me of the memory I still can never forget--even 3 years later.

It was an exceptional summer day of 2011, the blazing hot sun heating your face. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you would feel a slight breeze, like ice cold lemonade after running miles. The birds were chirping loudly. Their sweet chatter, like healing nectar, topped off the spectacular weather. There was only one drawback.

HANNAH MEIXNER GRADE THREE

My two dear African Dwarf frogs hadn’t been eating. They were my first actual pets (I got them for my eighth birthday), and I would do anything to help them. My parents and I tried everything to help them recover. They wouldn’t even eat their favorite food, bloodworms. Nothing worked. Like an evil magnet,

* 84

85 *

some unbelievably strong force was slowly pulling them away from me--trying to take them away forever. As I was thinking of all this, my dad stepped into the room.

He was wearing his natural attire--his vibrant orange tshirt and blue jeans. I was thinking to myself: he’s probably just going to ask me to help him in the yard, or tell me to practice my guitar. His solemn expression told me differently. What my dad said would’ve knocked me off my feet, if I was standing up. “Your frogs died.”

Those words hit me like a freight train coming at me at full speed. I didn’t know what to do. It felt like time completely stopped. No, time did stop. Everything stopped for the frogs. The ceiling seemed to be pushing down on the three of us--so forceful, I felt claustrophobic. There was a very long silence, the silence when you think, ‘Why? What did I do?’. I was utterly shocked. I couldn’t move, not even one muscle.

The next morning, a wave of energy swept over me like a tsunami. I somehow found new energy, new charisma. Strength crept into my bones. I knew it was time.

“I need to bury them,” I said.

My dad gave me a nod that meant ‘okay’. I had the duty of placing them in the white paper bowl in the brown paper bag. I helped my mom and dad empty out the colorful stones from the aquarium. Doing all this made me feel like someone shot a war cannon into the deep depths of my soul.

ARTWORK BY PETER OHRSTROM GRADE EIGHT

* 86

When everything was emptied out, I finally placed my frogs in their permanent burial spot. As I laid them there, tears ran down my face, into my mouth where I tasted their saltiness. I actually didn’t feel as sad. I had lost my pets, my best friends, but they actually had a good life after all.

My mother handed me the bookmark with the Bible verse printed on it. I read the words, a little shakily, but loud. “What is the price of five sparrows? A couple of pennies? Yet God does not forget a single one of them. And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid.” Those words, like healing nectar, seeped into me, calming my heart. Their precious sound seemed to echo off all the beautiful bushes and trees in our backyard. They are forever carved into my heart, like names carved into trees. I found true meaning, that everything, from the smallest sparrow to the biggest falcon, matters.

It seemed like every bone in my body was bound to the sofa with cold, hard, steel chains. Another moment of silence was burst, like a bubble, as I suddenly broke free from the sofa, with tears streaming down my face. It seemed like it took years just trudging to the sunroom to see my frogs.

Kneeling down, I peered into their large aquarium. My eyes traveled around the variety of bright, colorful plants and plastic statues. They halted when they came near two lifeless, brown, mottled figures. As if in meditation, or in a deep slumber, my frogs sat like 87 *

MADELEINE KOCH GRADE SEVEN

* 88

statues, oblivious of any of their surroundings. They were sitting in the little, gray, plastic cave. Their glassy eyes, like pure white pearls out of a clam shell, looked unblinking at me.

Not able to glance at them any longer, I turned away with a terrible feeling creeping up on me. Loneliness wrapped itself around me, entwining its green, leafy, tendrils around my body--trying to choke me like a plant. As I sat there, I remembered the first wonderful days I owned my frogs, their sweet, smiles filling my heart. I remembered when I fed them food through a dropper. I remembered picking out their new aquarium.

I remembered choosing their plants. I remembered studying them. I even remembered the first day I was their brand new owner. All these memories were zooming past me, like a jet plane in the sky. Why, out of all creatures, did my frogs have to die--and why now?

Night came as darkness covered the sky. Thinking about how I would miss them, I fell into a deep slumber. I didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t even realize I loved them so much.

I learned that you shouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t let precious time slip through your fingers--you might wake up to find your loved pets gone. I realized that you should make the most of life, because your world could come crashing down in a split second. Today, as I look at that Bible verse, I remember the saddening events that took place that summer day. I know that my frogs had a good life, and they are safely in heaven. To cheer me up when I think of them, I have a furry little cat, named Susie, curling up next to me. She is replacing part of the loss I felt, but the gaping hole, like a bottomless pit in my heart, will never be fully mended.

*

89 *

index Adrian, Alexandra Amar, Lamis Andrews, Sophia Ballhaus, Brooke Beavers, Talia Brown, Audrey Brown, Chandler Bushara, Sadie Butler, Sydney Campbell, Lorelei Campos, Kelton Clifford, Meridith Cole, Jared Dâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;Agostino, Sandro Dwelly, Kevin Evans-Wells, Fiona Ferrante, Nora Fuchs, Rowan Garst, Alexander Gravett, Pricilla Guiney, Robert Handford, Brianna Handford, Gabriella Hechl, Philippa Hendrie, Kylee Hinchman, Wesley Ismael, Nada Junkala, Inara Kach, Jordan Keys, Lizzy Kim, Justin Koch, Madeline

* 90

index 40, 53 17 80 9, 27, 51 77 18 75 30, 37, 85 81 19, 24, 27, 37, 46 21 47 59 56 29 38 13, 46 57 22, 64 34 39 49, 55 23, 34, 61 82 48, 62 25, 47, 68, 71 12 10 30, 78, 79 77 30, 78, 79 77

Major, Gwynn Maraska, Andrew Marcoux, Darcy McKee, Andrew McLinden, Daniel Meixner, Hannah Mellish, Tegan Milligan, Robert Mossburg, Thomas Ohrstrom, Peter Orr, Kanon Presgrave, Margaret Presgrave, Porter Reid, James Rensin, Emma Renz, Andrew Rich, Walker Russell, Katherine Sacripanti, Grace Schaefer, Max Seaborn, Grace Solari, Allegra Spiewak, Nick Swede, Kayla Thompson, Maura van der Woude, Alexandra Van Voorhis, Claiborne Wagner, Christopher Westbrook, Arabella Wiggins, Bryan Winants, Eleanor

67, 84 44 33, 24 66 70 74, 84 68 74 69 86 73 32 8 20, 43 22 45 10 69 9 43 36 17 45 65, 83 60 28 65 72 14 8 43 91 *

CSPA awards 1998 - Gold Medal 1999 - Gold Medal 2000 - Gold Medal 2001 - Gold Medal 2002 - Silver Crown 2003 - Gold Medal 2004 - Gold Medal 2005 - Gold Crown

2006 - Silver Medal 2007 - Bronze Medal 2008 - Gold Medal 2009 - Gold Medal 2010 - Gold Medal 2011 - Gold Medal 2012 - Gold Medal 2013 - Gold Medal

colophon

* 92

Typeset by Amulet Staff in Microsoft Word 2011.

Page layout in Adobe InDesign CS5 Version 7.0.4.

Artwork edited in Adobe Photoshop CS5 Version 12.0.2 Images scanned with Epson PerfectionV330 Photo. Cover set in Myriad Pro. Inside covers set in Myriad Pro and Adobe Caslon Pro. Title page set in Myriad Pro. Bylines and page numbers set in Myriad Pro. Prose and poetry set in Adobe Caslon Pro and Myriad Pro. Poetry and prose titles set in Adobe Caslon Pro and Myriad Pro. Index set in Myriad Pro and Adobe Caslon Pro. Coverstock is Aspire Petallics Snow Willow 105#; inside stock is Chorus Art Silk 80#; translucents are Glamma Natural Pastel Blue 27#, Glamma Natural Extra White 40#, Reich CT Gold Dust 30#, and UV/ Ultra II Pearlized 31#. Printing by Piedmont Press, Warrenton, Virginia. All layout and design executed by Caroline Kessler and Caitlin Wagner of the 2014 Amulet Staff.