It was the beginning of the end. We were about to storm what used to be our home, storm the place that thought would protect us, protect our children but they damned us all to hell. I was the head figure of my battalion. The president of our Sect, had betrayed our people, betrayed us, and even betrayed me. I rallied my troops, transforming into something that no one can describe, a powerful being that glowed in the night sky. I had magic and wonderment, abilities that man could not describe in a single sentence. I was a powerful entity that was not human and nor was I angelic. I was angry and passionate for the people of this world. There is much more I could say but as we stormed in, my father, the president of this damned land, cowered in fear. My eyes grew narrow as an elegant dress appeared, walking with me as I closed in on him. ‘Do you have any last words;’ I muttered as he whimpered watching us storm his halls, the castle of his new country of Adelaide. I heard no answer as within seconds his body evaporated into the air, disappearing into the walls. The world was broken, detrimental, and emotional. We now had to focus on healing this world and building a new world, away from the authoritarian rule that we once knew. How did we get here, you might ask yourself, how we got here? Well, it is quite a story that has many twists and turns. I woke up to the sound of my alarm. It was the last day of my normal life before I knew who I was before I knew of the war and our past. My father came in with a tray of cookies and a note, from my late mother. “Today is the day princess;” He noted smiling as he sat on the edge of my bed. “Father, it is just my coronation into Adelaide’s kingdom. “A right of your birth; a right that your mother had on her 18th birthday and now you, princess, you are going to be crowned the princess of our land. “Father, can I get ready in peace. “Of course princess, and be down in an hour for your fitting. I nodded to him slowly closing the door behind him. I slowly leaned down as I read the note from my mother. It was a lengthy note that told the truth of who I was and the truth of our kingdom. We were not a utopia and the reason for her death was because she was about to unleash the tides of war on my father. I sat down staring as my hands beamed a white glow, slowly consuming my whole body and in an instant, my room was blasted from all corners of myself. The glow ceased as I slowly stood up staring at my hands in horror. My mother was like me. But not only that she was going to bring to light all of the stuff my father has done in the past years that were against the people, bringing them down, and destroying our country. I slowly walked down the stairs, tucking my mother’s note underneath my mattress and walking down the steps as nothing happened. I nodded to my father’s right-hand man, Lucifer. He has tried to court me for years but I have always pushed him to the side. Maybe today I would give him a chance. I did trust this man with my life. “Good morn Miss Adela, how do you do?” Lucifer said bowing to me as I bowed back. “Good, how about yourself Lucifer?” I said flirtatiously. “Greater seeing you, you excited for your coronation this afternoon;” He said cheekily. We were alone as I slowly motioned to go more Seclusive place. I smiled at him as he slowly hovered over me, smiling at me. “I was, I admit but now, I am not so sure,” I whispered to him. “Want to talk about it?” He asked staring at me with soft eyes, wondering what I was talking about. “You never liked my father have you?” I finally said as he slowly nodded to me. “Under what pretense;” He asked fidgeting with his work uniform. “The pretense that he killed Queen Adelaide when she tried to go public with her findings of my father,” I whispered looking in both directions to make sure my father wasn’t coming. “You know I serve my king well but yes, I have never liked him. I rather serve you and…” He paused as we bowed to a knight walking by. I looked down at my hands, did I just imagine that, or was that just me. “And I have been waiting for Lucifer, will you stand by me at my coronation,” I asked softly as he smiled at me with luring eyes. “I will be with you, to your right if that is what you wish and what is on your mind Princess?” He asked timidly. “I found out some things that have troubled me but at my coronation, I am going to call him out in front of the world. And if he says they are not true, I will show him the truth.” I said walking out into the open staring at the dark hallway ahead of me. “And what is the truth?” He asked skeptically. “This;” I whispered as I started to glow again, more quickly this time. His mouth dropped as I looked at him, he bowed to me nodding to me as he walked to the end of the hall in silence. I eased the glow and went to my fitting without another word to him or anybody. I knocked on the door to two older seamstresses that had seen my mother’s coronation. They were the proud woman that was proud of their pride and work in making uniforms, dresses, ball gowns and coronation uniforms. “Your father requested that you wear your mother’s gown.” The seamstress to my left said. “So we made a rendition of it but of course a more updated gown with similar features. You look so much like your mother; she was so young when she passed. You will honor her with this gown.” The seamstress said to the right of me. I nodded to them as they got started stripping me of my nightgown and dressed me in a corset, a brassiere, a bra, and a long elegant hoop skirt. I felt like I was stuck in medieval times. I sighed as the long gown went over my slim frame. It was a white gown with red sapphires, amethyst jewels, and even gold sequins that were made into snowflakes. My mother wore a similar gown with lace. They added that at the ends. It had a smell of my mother’s perfume, daisies, roses, and lavender. I missed her a lot. “Wow you look lovely;” My father said walking in to get his fitting done. “Thank you Father; when does the ceremony begin,” I whispered bowing to him. “In one hour the ceremony will begin, I want to begin the coronation pre-ceremony with you immediately.” He demanded of me as I nodded “Yes, Father,” I whispered to him slowly standing outside. He came out shortly after with a gold uniform, with purple leather adorning his majesty. He walked past me as I knew to follow slowly behind, we stopped at the fountain in the middle of our castle, and the fountain of wishes it is known. “Your mother and I first met when we were first here, I was just a mere Duke of Sect 22, she the princess of this land. I loved your mother with all my heart, it is sad she passed so young.” He said staring at the shimmering water. “Father, what is the pre coronation ceremony?” I whispered staring at the clay fountain and its shimmering water flowing down. “You’re staring at it. Your mother and I both had to believe in the fountain, changing our lives and our people’s lives for the better. I will have Lucifer come and get you when the ceremony begins.” He said standing up abruptly staring at a knight who was motioning him over. “Yes, father,” I said looking back at the fountain. It was suddenly quiet as I stared at the fountain, my hands shimmering against the water, glowing to match the color of the water. It was peaceful as I watched the water, suddenly realizing that he will never stop. If my mother’s allegations were true, he will kill me too. She noted that he burned a whole village down, killing thousands of people to build an arena for the people. He murdered school children when they didn’t salute his flag. The list goes on. “Mother;” I cried my tears dropping like jewels into the fountain. “I don’t want your name to be used to justify violence and hatred if these things are true. I don’t want to be seen as the princess that did nothing. I will not let this coronation be in vain. I will not let your words be in vain. The people need to know the vulgarity of what has happened.” I wiped my tears staring at the reflection of my face, my features similar to my mother's. I had piercing grey eyes, a button nose, and the reddest hair anyone has ever seen. I was no blonde like my father is. Lucifer came shortly after. I nodded, slowly getting up as I pecked his cheek, smiling at him. He smiled back as he led me to the staircase that I had to walk to my coronation. He took my right arm, slowly linking our arms as I lifted my head staring at the crowd before me. They were villagers, people, afraid of my father’s hand. “What will you do princess?” He whispered to me. “The truth, if we can come out on the other side together, I’ll let you court me;” I said vividly. “We will make it on the other side, and I will take it to your word, hopefully not too overwhelming.” He smiled kissing my cheek back. “It won’t be,” I whispered as we took each step with each stride. We stopped at the base of the stairs as the royal court official, read our names. “Lady Adela Lune of Adelaide, royal congregant and Princess of the land with her escort Sir Lucifer Thaddeus of the royal congregation.” The royal official said as he helped us down. My father nodded as Lucifer stood to my right, I bowed to the people first and then to him. I lifted my head before my father forcefully stopped me from lifting it. “Stay bowing child, now repeat after me. I insert your name, will do my best to represent the people, to work with them, work with the communities, and serve the people to my best of my abilities.” He said icily. “I, Adela Lune, will do my best to represent the people, to work with them, work with the communities, and…. No...” I said trailing off as I slowly lifted my head in insubordination to him. His eyes bulged as I lifted my head at him. “What do you mean no.” He bellowed. I slowly lifted my head to the people as I slowly walked forward. “Father I know you killed mother, the true heir to the throne so you could rule this land to the ground. The people know what have you done and I cannot accept your congregation, your rule, for destroying these people’s lives. You killed these people’s families, their children for your own selfish needs. I cannot accept to be under your rule, till your death, and nor can these people. I denounce my name and stand with them. And one more thing, mother was of magic, like I am.” I said slowly walking over to the people as I linked arms with them. “Guards!” He screamed as I started to glow, blasting them to the ground. I slowly grabbed Lucifer as we started to run and run not looking back.


"Life just feels so much different without you, Somedays I just feel empty and hollow on the inside. It’s been rough getting adjusted to everything, Even though a piece of me feels like it died, But a small piece of me is Still Alive on the Inside. Somedays are good, While others I remember so vividly, It gets hard to not think of that one moment, But it is forever etched into my mind, That moment haunts me, Even looking at your pictures reminds me of that day, That day my hope and faith were crushed, So much so that I must redefine those words. Many days have been filled with light, And many have been filled with the dark, A piece of me feels like it died, But a small piece of me is Still Alive on the Inside. I try to focus on the good memories, And that helps a little, But many days when I close my eyes to sleep, I remember, …I remember that one day. It has been rough but the lessons you taught me, and my brothers, have helped in my life. You were so loving, kind, dependable and so much more, Just one moment you were here, the next you were not. That day even though painful, Did teach me something. It taught me to number my days, Our time is so important. Just like a vapor that appears for a little while, Then vanishes away, So will we. That day was a curveball for us all. I felt so helpless, hopeless, and powerless. To feel so powerless is a terrible feeling, It adds to the pain more, But I know I must keep going and not give up, Many days I wonder what the meaning of all this is, All this pain…. pain I guess pain is important depending on how you perceive it. Even through pain we are birthed, Even as I draw breathe, I have a purpose. Even though I am mentally, and spiritually battered and bruised, There is a small piece of me Still Alive on the Inside. I have so many thoughts racing in my mind Why do I keep having flashback to the time I wish I could forget, but it’s forever etched into my mind Guess this type of stuff takes time to heal? It plays back everyday, Like a prisoner in my own mind. Somedays I just feel like crying, But I know I must keep on surviving. Many times, I just feel like giving up, But some small piece of me chooses to fight But I feel tired and stressed Why do I fail when I try my best? Some days I feel like a failure and that I’ve failed you. I just miss the old times. I try to search and find them in my mind. You were so loving and kind, But lately my mind has been a warzone, Am I Ok? Everyone always asks how I am doing, but I just them I'm fine. But honestly I’m not, Even my faith took a hit, Even my confidence. Why try? Why try? Honestly Why? It just feels like nothing matters, Like everything we do is bad or it’s not good enough. I’m still trying and struggling with my faith. Do I even have faith if I’m questioning it? Why do I feel this way? I am always asked What is God doing in your life? I just give the standard answers like he is doing everything good for me. I know I must trust Him fully, At the moment with all honestly, I can say a little piece of me doesn’t fully. At a critical time, I prayed, yet no answer. Or at least in the sense I would have thought, At that critical time, the prayers the family prayed were serious. I thought if you pray and asked in good faith it would happen. But utter silence That day Hurt my faith and confidence. I am struggling with bitterness towards God And it’s not a good place to be. I am struggling to accept why he would allow this situation to happen. I mean it was quiet that day, I prayed and nothing. To hear the doctors tell me you were gone. That was the worst day of my life so far. Just three days from your birthday, Then you were gone. That day, I hate it with all of me. It started out normal, and I talked with you. Shortly after you were not here. It just left me thinking, Why we even make plans if we can just leave at any moment? Maybe I am just frustrated because I don’t know the reason why God decided to take you, but I have to accept it. Maybe it will be clear one day, I don’t know. But that day I tried to suppress my feelings, but no longer. I have to trust the Lord with all of my heart, with my life. Honestly, it is tough at the moment. I believe in Jesus as the Son of God and trust he died and rose again on the 3 rd day. I know he is the author and finisher of my faith. To sum up how I feel is that God is writing about me, but I’m trying to take the pen and write myself. It’s not a good way to think like that at all. God knows all, and I know nothing. How do I gain full confidence in God? And Trust? I just felt hurt by him honestly. But I know he has plans for us to prosper and not harm us. I have to get up and truly dust myself off. Humans were made to be dependent on God, We’re not made independent in that sense. Before we were born, we were destined to die It is just our fate. With our very first breathe we begin to die. But there is hope beyond the grave which is something we all face. That Hope is Christ Jesus. I will continue to search the scriptures and pray For I am battered, beaten, broken. I am a broken man right now With no plans for the future. Life truly must mean something. It is hard to even think about the future. I can’t let my life be all for nothing. As time continues to move forward, I will continue to read the word and study. I will no longer put confidence in myself, but my confidence will be in the Lord Almighty. I understand my strength and others will fail me. But God never will, because he is in control. Now I feel a lot better about getting that off my mind. I can start to truly heal and rebuild myself Thank you, Lord, for always listening Amen''


A gush of wind blasts by, "well... what is it?" asked a voice almost completely muted by the howling of the wind. "I don't know. Is it some kind of animal?" asked another. The wind continued to howl, and the sound of snow crunching, could be heard from a few feet away. "What the hell are you guys doing outside in this weather?", said a deep voice. "Hey, Dante. What is this thing?" asked the beginning voice. "What is wha-," there was a pause, intentionally would never be known, "its a human," said the deep voce almost sounding scared. "A what?" asked the beginning voice. With the calm of the wind, the voice could be heard more clearly, and from the sound of it, it was a woman speaking. "Oh, a human. I've heard of those in History class. My teacher told me that they were dangerous and really violent. They uh- they destroyed their planet a couple hundred years back right?" This voice was different, it was obviously woman like, but no one could tell, even from looking at her, what age she was. "Yeah. I though they went extinct. At least that's what I've been told," said Dante with a confused expression. "Maria, what's that in it's hand?" The woman like voice, Maria, moved forward to get a closer look at a shiny object wrapped in the dark, ebony fingers of the human, and reached to pick it up. At the touch of it's skin, to pry their fingers open, Maria jumped at the sight of their fading, brown eyes. "What! What happened, why'd you jump?" asked Dante, who soon after followed with fear. "Look!" yelled the beginning voice, Lily. They watched as the ebony human sat up, face frozen in a fearful expression. It's head turned towards Dante, and later towards Maria. The human's face changed, bearing a sinister look and once again back to agitation, but this change was followed with a deafening scream, that forced Lily, Maria, and Dante to cover their ears, with their mitted hands. "Ugh, she's so loud!" yelled Lily over the wind's howl and the human's screech. With a sudden stop in screaming, the snow stopped falling, the wind stopped howling and the human fell back to her original position. "What in the world just happened?" asked Dante, backing up little by little. "I- I don't know. Should we help it?" Maria asked, wiping tears from her eyes. "Stop calling her an 'it'," argued Lily. Maria and Dante looked at her in confusion. "Why? Compared to our planet, she's an alien," chuckled Dante. "Okay and your point is? She is obviously a woman. Look, her wooly like hair is long, and she has really soft skin." "You just described Dante, Lily," and with that remark, Dante slapped her in the back of her head. "Would both of you stop? Look," Lily picked up the shiny object they noticed earlier. It was a locket. She opened it and a whole batch of light shot out, almost blinding the trio. "Ugh, close it!" Yelled Dante, rubbing his eyes along with Maria. "Sorry, but didn't you hear what it was saying?" Asked Lily. "No. I was too busy protecting my eyesight from being taken," scolded Maria. "I'm gonna open it again. Cover your eyes, and just listen," pleaded Lily, and Maria shrugged, giving Dante the okay to follow. Lily first closed her eyes and once again opened the locket. It was still bright even with the darkness behind the eyelid, but now they could hear the voices singing from the locket: Become blind to our light, And heed these words The new moon is her beginning, It was because of the curse. The color in her eyes fade as Her connection to the moon grows Stronger. Bring her to the woman making, The path to a whole new turn, For she cannot wait for revenge any Longer. The singing stopped and the locket suddenly shut. The trio opened their eyes and Lily suddenly gasped. "Where'd it go?!" She dropped down into the snow, and began digging through it. Her hands becoming pale, she touched something hard. Almost metal-like. She knew it wasn't the locket, but she still was curious to know what it was after all. She wrapped her palm around the round, metal object and tried to pull up but she struggled indefinitely, since her arms were extremely small and slim. "Oh move, you weakling," said Dante, pushing Lily out of the way. Watching in the snow, Lily and Maria made a face in awe at the fact that Dante pulled the object up so easily, but were more intrigued by what came up with the metal. It was a box. The handle, mentioned as metal but looked rusted. The outer layer, was dark brown, with a silver lining around the opening and leading into the back. "Where did you pull that from?" Asked Maria, walking towards the box. "Right he-, hey where'd the hole go!?" Yelled Dante surprised. "It's like nothing was even there," the trio looked at where a hole should be, but only say a box like outline in the snow. "Wait, guys come look at this," Lily announced as she lifted the box and saw a light brown cutout of what, she thought the be some kind of message, but was soon disappointed to find out they were simply scratch marks. "Can we go now?" Asked Dante, "I don't want my dad, getting suspicious of where I am. You guys, already know how he is." Dante gave Maria a pleading look, but Lily ignored it and went back to the human. Bending down, she reached to touch the woman again. "STOP! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" Yelled Maria. "Don't you remember what happened last time I touched her?". Ignoring her words, Lily once again touched the woman, but this time more carefully. The human's eyes once again opened but they did not scare Lily, like they did Maria. "Take me to her," in a raspy, almost inaudible voice, the ebony human spoke. "Wait, say that again?" Lily moved her ears closer, and watching in fear, Maria and Dante began to back away slowly. "Take me to the woman, the one that can make a new path for me." The human was shaking in her laying position, for she had on no coat, no pants, no shoes. The only cover she had was a worn out shirt, that was meant to cover her breasts, but failed. For the sides could still be seen. "Lily, let's go," demanded Dante. "Why?" Asked Lily. "Because it's talking about my mother. The one who makes paths is my mother. She doesn't make paths anymore, sorry," Dante began to walk off and grabbed Maria to follow. "You liar." Said Lily, glaring at Dante with a guilty look on his face. "our mother left you father in order to help more humans and you're just bitter because that other human girl that was found, didn't like you the way you liked her, and suddenly disappeared," Lily finger quoted. "She did disappear," Dante scolded, with a mean look on his face. "Oh shut up, everyone in the village knows that you sent you father's guards to kill her," Lily dramatically made gestures with her arms. "You have no right in this. Go ahead and tell your father about the human, I will take this human to your mother and there is no way you can stop me," Lily responded, helping the human sit up, who was now feeling the snow in her right palm, while still intensely gripping Lily's hand. "I did not," Dante walked towards Lily, "Listen you brat, Ferra was everything to me and I respected her decision about not wanting to be with me. But you're just jealous because you liked her as well, and she saw nothing in you!" Shouted Dante, grabbing Lily by her coat's collar. "Guys stop!" Yelled Maria, she began quivering and held back tears. "Shut up Maria!" Said Lily, "If you call respect murder, then I SHOULD MURDER YOUR FATHER RIGHT?!" Yelled Lily, and Dante raised a hand to slap Lily, but before he could get any power to throw it, a hand grabbed his wrist and he froze. He turned his head to the left and shock ran through his body, "Let go of me, you vile human!" "Let go of Lily," she whispered, but even with her soft spoken words, Dante still trembled at her presence. "Who are you? Do you know who I am? I'm-" "Dante Forene. The son of Ruther a.k.a "Ruthless" Forene, the murderer of my people." "Let me go!" Dante snatched his hand away, at this point he had let go of Lily, "My father is no murderer, you liar. I will have you killed," Dante raged, not even realizing he's proving their point. "Dante what is she talking about?" Asked Maria concerned. "I don- I don't know. She's lying! My father never killed anyone!" "Who are you?" Lily asked the human, now recognizing how tall she truly is. "The beginning of something revolutionary," said the tall human relaxing. "Let's get out of here. You better hope I don't see your face ever again or else I'll have you killed, you hear me?" Dante demanded. "Humans aren't welcome on our planet, that's why we endanger your existence," Dante whispered under his breath, grabbing Maria once again, who innocently followed. "Grab that box Lily." The woman softly said, gesturing to the dark color in the snow. The human watched as Dante and Maria were out of sight. "What even is it?" Asked Lily, curiously watching the human's every move. "Everything I need," she took her finger and placed it in her mouth, and within the same second, bit down and blood sprayed everywhere, with a little landing on Lily's coat. "What the hell! Why'd you do that?" Yelled Lily. "The only way to open the box is with the connector's blood," the human took her red stained finger and slid it across a rough patch, Lily only noticed after bringing the box to the human. "Woah," Lily said astonished at everything inside the box. The box was filled with many things, that seemed really important to the human. Clothes to cover her body, shoes to wear on her feet, but what really made Lily think everything going on was a dream, was the sight of a knife, that looked similar to the one's sold at their local weapon shop. "Is that a human's knife?" Asked Lily intrigued. "Is that what they call it?" The human scoffed, "this is a Vendetta knife." She picked it up, and to Lily's surprise, it was larger than she had anticipated it to be. "Vendetta? You have a vendetta against someone?" Lily began to back up terrified. "Lily, it's not against you, this is for Ruthless, the man that destroyed my planet." "Ruthless?" "Your King Ruther." "I- I-" Lily stuttered but then sighed. "I'm not even surprised. There have been a lot of murders lately involving innocent humans. The last one to live here was me and Dante's age, but she mysteriously disappeared," Lily once again finger quoted. "Ha, yeah that's why I'm here. That human was my sister, Ferra. We lived here in the snow for some time but then she met that boy Dante and never came back until I found her blood and locket in the snow a couple years back. I didn't want to but I went into the village to avenge her the first time but Ruthless fought against me and set a bounty for my head." She paused for a second, looking down at the locket Lily dropped. "What happened? How come you were laying there in the middle of the snow with no clothes?" Asked Lily. "A witch found me, and cursed me. But I don't think she wanted me to die, she negotiated with me. She allowed me to live if I did not come back to reek havoc on the village. I agreed and gave up. But I sensed she still didn't trust my word and I was right," finished the human. "What did she do?" "She ripped my clothes from my body, and then she set a curse on me to lay like the dead, until someone found me again, then made the weather dangerous so that no one would find me. I screamed while the curse stiffened my body, which is why I screeched after your friend touched me. Sorry about that," she chuckled. Lily chuckled along with her but soon stopped. "What's wrong?" asked the human. "Can I stay with you?" "Why would you ask that? Do you not have parents?" "No, they died in the crossfire of the war between our planets." "I'm sorry that happened to you, but why would you want to stay with me? Have you not realized I'm going to murder your king?" "I want to help, he is the reason for my parent's death, and I will never forgive him." "Well then okay," the human smiled, "But I need you to go back to your village and pack your stuff to leave, so that after we can go see the woman that creates paths." "Why? Can't I just stay with you?" Asked Lily, wiping blood off her coat. "Well, that would be the easiest way, but your little murderer of a friend is gong to tell his dad about me, so if they don't see you back, they will assume I killed or kidnaped you, and we don't want that do we?" Said the human with a convincing look on her face. The point the human made, made Lily nod her head in agreement. "Okay so then, I'll pack and say I'm moving to the next village. I'll have to get fired from my job at the restaurant first to really sell it though." The human nodded her head and got up after finishing with the box. "What now?" Asked Lily looking up to the human. "You go now," the human took what looked like a key and wiped her blood across it and threw it into the snow. " When you finish convincing everyone you're leaving, you need to come back here and find the frosted flower. Pick it and wipe your blood across one of it's petals." A door appeared and she opened it, along with a frosted pink flower now growing in the snow. "Wait!" The human turned around. "What's your name?" Asked Lily. "Nemoa." The human smiled and turned back towards the door, the golden light almost blinding Lily. The light made Lily feel warmer than she did her entire time in the snow, and relaxed her. It felt welcoming and safe, like a mother's hug to her crying child. The door closed and Lily turned to walk back to the village with a new sight in life. "New moon. Is that what the king meant by 'under the new moon, will be a revolution'?"


Before Jed and Kamil could clear the rusty platform, littered with grease-smeared wrenches and chain locks, the massive pressure from below the earth's crust tore the drill head and platform free from their mountings. Kamil lost an arm; Jed was dead. Kamil being a renowned Sitar player was arguably the worse off, each day from then on to be tortured with the knowledge that he would never entice soulful meandering melodies from the beloved instrument again. Jed was stone cold by the time professional medical help came to the remote drilling site in outback Australia, the flying doctor service concentrating on getting Kamil's stump swaddled and stopped before turning their attention to the corpse which had been shot clean through from the sheer pressure of pent-up oil breaching the earth's surface. Stemming the flow of the crude oil, noxious and angry, was something that the drill site manager, old McCrory had done just a few times before; no easy task under any circumstances. It took all of his skill and much goading of the small workforce to get close enough to the gushing black-brown fountain in order to temporarily halt nature's furious tirade at being punctured. The Jalbiru site was secured by the next morning, by then just a well-trampled patch of murky dirt and puddles of crude; the platform and drill head looking like not much more than a mangled old car wreck left to its own devices on the harsh sun-baked plain. Word of the accident quickly circulated headquarters; these things happened, people lost their lives in the worst cases, and on the rare occasion that they did the emotional pall that hung over the company lasted weeks, sometimes months. Not only that but there were any number of local, state and national authorities which would make it their business – because that was exactly their business – to investigate what had happened and why. The people who knew all about the whats and whys for the Jalbiru project site were the two geological engineers charged with the responsibility of seeing the project safely home – something which never came to fruition. Zeph had been with the company for thirteen years, Katie for only three; they both had to take the rest of the day off from shock when the news came in that the Jalbiru project site had suffered a rupture, resulting in injury and death. On their return to work the next day Zeph and Katie had a quiet lunch together, at a seat at an outside table, facing away from the road at a local deli. Zeph eyed his lunch “A BLT sandwich never looked less appetising...” “Yeah I know” Katie agreed “I've not had a good appetite since yesterday either. Caesar salad is the best I can do.” “The Work Safe investigators will be here tomorrow. Then we'll have to deal with the state authorities after them, and if we're really unlucky-” “Don't even think about it Zeph. Let's just go one step at a time.” “So, the figures, the maximum working pressures that we modeled,” Zeph, snapped small pieces of bacon from the edge of his sandwich and nibbled at them mindlessly “didn't exactly match what the actual site exploration pressures were measured at. I looked yesterday before I headed off home.” “Oh, so you've looked already as well? It's not so hot, is it? What we said versus what they got. Especially what those two drillers got.....” “I..... I thought that those measured pressures were lower. They normally are for that part of the country. Those other test drillings we sank – you remember those? Two just north of Jalbiru and the smaller one to the east? - they were all within spec.” “Yeah, I recall you saying that. I must admit that I took your word for it and didn't check on it myself. In hindsight....” Katie piled the Caesar salad croutons up like a mini-fortress. “Even if we allow for the standard five percent measurement deviation error those Jalbiru project numbers are like eighteen percent over. There's no way an investigator will pas that over.” “I don't like this. It gives me a bad feeling. I think-” “Dammit, dammit, dammit!” Zeph looked directly at Katie for the first time since they'd sat down “I can't...... lose my job Katie. I've got one kid in school and another needs special care. The mortgage isn't going to pay itself and I just bought a friggin' boat. Shit timing, but there you are.” “Zeph, I think we need to take this seriously.” “I am, for Christ's sake Katie, believe me!” Zeph raised his voice to a level that would normally arouse attention if they were eating indoors, got away with it outside. Zeph quietened down, as if his sudden outburst had released some internal pressure. He ate without pleasure, occupied by thought. Katie chewed on the fortress of croutons, depleted their defences. “Got it!” “Huh? 'It', Zeph?” “I've got it, I've got it, I've got it.” Zeph beamed like a Cheshire cat, he leaned back in his seat. “Ok Katie, listen to this. I've been with the company long enough that some of the project names get repeated. So, I remember, about eleven years ago – no wait, maybe twelve – there was another Jalbiru.” Katie stopped eating to concentrate on what Zeph said. “Another Jalbiru? And?” “Yeah, and I'm pretty sure those figures will be -” “Oh no no no, Zeph. You can't do that. The dates and lat/long won't match.” “Uh-uh, of course I know that too. But I can change the metadata Katie.” “Hold on. You want to change some data? Fudge something up so that it gets you-” “Us Katie, us.” “Ok, frees us of blame. Is that what you're suggesting?” “Exactly what I'm suggesting. And what's wrong with that?” “Someone will know Zeph. We can't do this. We'll get caught.” “S'far as I know Katie I'm the longest serving at the company. Most others there haven't done more than ten years. They don't know about the previous Jalbiru project data.” “No Zeph, I can't-” “You'll lose your job too Katie. Who would want to employ a geological engineer with a lousy three years of experience and a serious drilling accident on their record?” “I..... This is not...” “Listen to me Katie. This will work out fine. Once I merge that old data with this new-” “What about McCrory?” Zeph put a bread crust down “Huh? McCrory? What about him?” “You said that nobody has been with the company for more than ten years. Isn't he at fourteen?” “McCrory? He works out at sites, not at headquarters. He won't even know what's going on.” “This feels ….. wrong, Zeph. I can't-” Zeph laughed out loud “No, it's gonna be fine Katie. Believe me, I can work this.” Katie was up and walking before Zeph had realised, she'd cut directly across the road through the traffic. Zeph turned his head, wiped his hands and yelled at her through the passing cars. “Katie!”


An orange haze envelops the small town of Republic, Missouri every year by way of the annual pumpkin festival. Pumpkins are bought, sold, carved, smashed, and baked into pies. The crowning achievement, however, is the pumpkin growing contest that promises glory and riches to whoever can grow the largest gourd. The winner is crowned the PumpKing and receives a $1000 cash prize. The champion from the previous year must relinquish the prestigious trophy to the new victor. “He only held the title for 12 hours or so,” Deputy Shannon says as he looks down at the deceased body of the newest PumpKing, Dennis Walker. “He won two years ago, though, and three years before that. Him and Harris usually go back and forth.” Sheriff Gordon squats down and inspects the knife protruding from the back of the corpse. He pulls a pen from his shirt pocket and pokes at a glob of orange goo stuck to the knife. “This what I think it is?” “Yeah, looks like one of the pumpkin carving knives from the festival,” the Deputy replies. He leans against the faded red barn wall and reaches into his coat pocket, retrieving a crumpled tobacco pouch. He watches a large, ominous dark cloud roll over the rising morning sun. He takes a pinch of the rich, woody smelling snuff and stuffs it under his lip. Though the temperature is warm and there is still plenty of daylight, Deputy Shannon feels a sense of foreboding pass over him and he shivers unconsciously. “Gotta be Harris, ain’t it?” The Sheriff tilts his head slightly in thought, “You think?” “Well, you heard all the hubbub about his crop of pumpkins this year, right?” “Aw hell, everybody heard about that. Harris came rip-roarin’ down to the Silver Dollar saying Walker had poisoned his crop. He claimed that him and his buddies had gone over and seen Walker’s entry pumpkin and could tell on sight that it was ‘scarcely bigger than a tom cat’ – his words– and then the very next day his own pumpkin started turning brown and smellin’ putrid and what have you.” Deputy Shannon grins, despite the morbid situation. “Well, that certainly sounds like him.” The Sheriff slaps his hands on his knees and stands up, groaning with the effort. “Guess we better load up and get on over to Harris’s farm and see what he has to say for himself.” ----- Gravel crunches as the old chevy police cruiser pulls in front of a large yellow house with faded blue shudders and a wraparound porch. Fat droplets of rain finally begin to splatter onto the windshield as the Sheriff and his Deputy open the car doors. White laundry billows on a clothesline in the steadily increasing wind, and Shannon notes the holes and stains on them. The front door is wide open, but the screen door is closed to keep the flies out. A portly woman in a well-worn red dress and a dirty apron bustles up to the door as they approach, wiping her hands back and forth and letting a cloud of white flour disappear in her wake. She is inherently likable, an excellent cook, and a passable weekday bartender when she isn’t busy tending the farm alongside her husband. “Gentlemen,” she says, smiling widely and opening the screen door. “I heard you pull up. I was just putting the finishing touches on one of my famous gooseberry pies. To what do I owe this pleasure?” “Marna, good to see you. You want help getting all that in?” the Sheriff gestures to the linens. “Oh lord, I forgot all about it. My head’s not screwed on right today. Yes, thank you kindly for your help,” Marna says and the two of them quickly get to work to beat the full force of the storm. The deputy stays back, peering surreptitiously inside the house through the screen door. The lights are off, and despite all the curtains being open and the early hour, the gloomy clouds cast the house in darkness. There’s a sweet smell emanating from withing – probably the pie – but there’s also the hint of something else he can’t quite place. Something unpleasant, rotting. There is no sign of Harris. He startles slightly when Marna speaks from behind him, “Can you get the door for me?” He obliges and watches her carry the large pile of laundry into the house and disappear behind the corner. After a moment, she returns. “Now then, what can I do for you?” she asks, stepping outside onto the porch. The Deputy notes that she closes both the screen door and the worn front door behind her. “Well first, let me ask, is your husband here?” Sheriff Gordon asks. “No, Harris didn’t come home last night. It ain’t uncommon for him to end up in the spare room above the Dollar on Saturday nights if he gets too deep into the bottle. Wish it wasn’t like that o’ course, but it is what it is,” she says, raising her chin defiantly. “I see,” Sheriff Gordon says, casting a glance at the deputy. “Well, I wish we were here under different circumstances, but there’s been a murder, you see.” Marna’s hand flies up to her chest. “A murder? Here in little Republic?” “Yes ma’am. I’m afraid Dennis Walker was found dead this morning by his son,” says the Sheriff. “Dennis Walker! Oh my, that is a shame,” she says fanning herself with her hand. “Well, you know our family never got along with the Walkers, but I hope you’re not here because you think Harris might’ve had anything to do with this?” The Sheriff casts another sideways glance at the Deputy. “We just have a few questions for him, ma’am. You say he’s likely at the Silver Dollar?” “Well, I should certainly hope so. Otherwise, he’ll have even bigger problems than the two of you,” Marna says with a scowl, indicating exactly who he will have problems with. The wind whips Marna’s greying hair around her face and the Deputy imagines that Marna can be quite like a storm when she gets angry. “Alright, well thank you for your time, Marna,” says the Sheriff. The deputy tips his hat to her and the two of them hurry back to the patrol car. ----- “Yeah, he was here last night, alright. Drunker than a skunk, and he closed the bar down at 2 am,” says Andy, the bartender, rinsing beer mugs as she talked. “You’re welcome to head upstairs if you need. Haven’t seen him yet this morning. Must have quite the hangover.” A man at the bar grins into his drink and nods his head at the two men. “Sheriff, Deputy. Long time no see.” Deputy Shannon gives the man a withering look. “Sure, Jim, if a day and a half is long. I see you’re straight back to business then. A martini at 11 am is an odd choice.” “Well, you know us city folks,” Jim says, shrugging, as though that explains the matter. “Don’t get into any more trouble. I’d hate to see you back in the clink again. Might be a new record, even for the locals,” the Deputy says. The man grins again and takes another sip of his drink, ending the conversation. Deputy Shannon and Sheriff Gordon make their way to the staircase leading to the room above the bar. “Guy’s weird, man,” the Deputy says. “Who drinks a martini at 11 am?” “You never like newcomers,” the Sheriff says, chuckling. “And you especially never like anyone from the city.” “Yeah well, can’t trust em, can ya? Says he moved here because a string of violent crime scared him out of the city, yet he gets locked up for petty offenses all the time. Vandalism, squabbles, public intox…” “Those are hardly serious crimes, and anyway the folks around here get locked up plenty,” the Sheriff says. “True,” the Deputy admits. “Still, you’d think after being in jail for five or six days that he wouldn’t go straight back to drinking before noon. It’s just trouble waiting to happen.” The Sheriff shrugs and knocks on the door at the top of the stairs. They hear a string of curses and shuffling. Finally, the door creaks open a few inches and Harris’s face peers through. “Whaddaya want,” he asks gruffly. “Are you decent? We need to ask you a few questions,” the Sheriff replies. “This isn’t exactly a good time. What time is it, actually?” Harris asks, going into a coughing fit. The room reeks of marijuana and stale liquor. “It’s 11 am.” “Shit,” Harris says. “Hang on.” The door closes and there are more shuffling sounds and then the door creaks open. “Let’s get this over with,” Harris says, walking into the room. “There’s like, privacy privilege or whatever, right?” The men walk into the room slowly. The Deputy waves a hand in front of his face, unsuccessfully diffusing the stench of the room. “What? Jesus Harris, it smells like a brothel in here.” The room is a complete disaster. Women’s and men’s clothes litter the room. Cans of beer crowd the nightstand and an empty bottle of wine lays near a tipped trashcan, its contents spilled onto the floor. There is an ashtray with a lit cigarette still burning inside. There are no windows in the room to let in fresh air. A bathroom fan is on, but the bathroom door is firmly closed. Suddenly, they hear a loud clatter from inside the bathroom, and then someone cursing. “Who’s in there?” Deputy Shannon asks, but no sooner has he asked the question than the bathroom door swings open.

“Shit,” says Irene Walker, wife of the deceased. The deputy purses his lips, and his eyebrows raise, but he says nothing. The Sheriff coughs awkwardly as Mrs. Walker shimmies into a coverup and snatches the cigarette out of the ashtray, taking a long drag to fully reignite the ember. “Uh,” the Sheriff says, at a loss for words. Harris makes an impatient gesture, “Yeah, we’re fuckin’, so what? Whaddaya guys want? I gotta get goin’ before my old lady beats my ass for bein’ home so late. Can’t believe it’s almost noon.” “We’re here to ask you a few questions about last night. We heard from the bartender that you were downstairs all evening,” says Deputy Shannon. “Yeah, and so was half the town. I came here with my buddies to blow off some steam after the contest ceremony. Which was rigged, by the way,” he says darkly. “Drank some pumpkin brew. Came upstairs, et cetera,” he says, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Went to sleep. And here we are.” “So, neither of you are aware of the murder that occurred last night then?” Deputy Shannon asks, watching Harris’ face for his honest reaction. He is surprised when the man’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline in surprise. Irene doesn’t appear to care much. Her face is turned away and she is puffing steadily away on her cigarette. “Murder? Whose?” Harris asks, leaning back on the bed. “Dennis Walker.” Irene goes still but says nothing. “You’re shitting me,” says Harris. “I’m not.” Harris exhales a puff of breath that could be a laugh. “Got what was comin’ to him, if you ask me.” “Interesting for you to say that,” the Deputy drawls. “I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re implying.” “Didn’t say that you did.” There is an awkward silence. Sheriff Gordon eventually fills it. “Irene, your husband is dead.” She turns her head and looks at him. Her eyes are bloodshot. “And good riddance,” she says quietly, taking a drag on her cigarette that brings it down to the filter. “He beat me, you know. Every time he got drunk. Which was all the time,” She mimed a backslap into the air, not meeting anyone’s eyes as she did so. “We were wondering where you were this morning, Irene. Your son was the one who found the body,” Sheriff Gordon says. “He says he came over early to congratulate his old man on his win. Says he was sorry he couldn’t make it to the ceremony.” Irene covers her face with her hands. “My poor boy,” she chokes. “I was here with Harris the whole time. It wasn’t him. Or me. Check with Andy.” “We will be doing that,” the Deputy says skeptically. The Sheriff shoots him a look, as if to say, ‘let it rest for a minute, man’. “Who else closed down the bar last night, Harris?” asks the Sheriff. “Uh, lemme think. Lyle, Ben, Kevin, Jim, Courtney, uh, Claire, Irene and me obviously,” Harris says. “I think that’s it. You’ll have to ask Andy, things get a bit fuzzy around midnight. I don’t usually take shots, but I was pissed off last night. You know that dead bastard poisoned my pumpkins, right?” Deputy Shannon makes a few notes in his notebook and pockets it. This whole encounter was awkward at best, particularly having just come from speaking to Harris’s wife. “We’ve heard the accusations, yeah. What makes you think it was Dennis?” asks Sheriff Gordon. Harris gawked at him. “You mean besides the fact that I would have won the PumpKing contest if not for my entry suddenly melting? I’ll be honest, Lyle, Ben, and I went to the Walker farm and talked some shit on his pumpkin. I could tell by the sight of it that mine would win. After, what, 10 or 12 years doing this contest, I can tell on sight what a pumpkin will weigh. His was nowhere near my beauty. We went to the Dollar after and laughed about it with Jim and some others. I was so sure I’d win. And then the next day – the very next day – my pumpkin starts to get spots on it and melts? Seven days before the contest. I’d say that’s pretty suspicious, wouldn’t you, Sheriff?” “It is a bit questionable, sure. But what proof do you have?” “Don’t need any, I know it was him. And he didn’t even need the money. I need the money. Bastard knew that,” Harris says angrily. “Alright Harris,” says Sheriff Gordon. “We’ll be in touch. Don’t leave town until all this is settled, you hear? You too, Irene.” “Yeah, yeah,” Harris grumbles. Irene nods stiffly. The Sheriff turns to the Deputy and gestures towards the door with his head. “Let’s go.” ----- The two men close the door behind them and make their way back to the bar. The place is empty now, besides the bartender. The two of them sit at the bar and order a round of pumpkin ale. The Sheriff lets out a long sigh and rubs his hands down his face. After serving them, Andy heads to the kitchen, leaving them alone. “Okay, so who do we think it is?” the Deputy asks, straight to business. “Well, there’s Harris or Irene, obviously. Both have motive, and neither has a good alibi, considering they were supposedly together all night.” “What about Marna?” the Deputy asks. “Marna? Come on, man. What would she have to kill the guy over?” “I don’t know, the cash prize from the contest? They could use the money, Harris said. Maybe she wanted her old man to win… Thought maybe it would keep him around the house more?” “Maybe. Doesn’t feel right though,” Sheriff Gordon says. They are silent for a long time. Eventually, the Sheriff asks, “Who else entered the contest?” “Hang on, they posted that on the festival website,” the Deputy says, getting his phone out. After a minute of searching, he says, “Looks like the runner up was Kathy Miller, 3 rd place went to Kevin Calhoun, and 2 nd place went to… Jim Burleigh?” “Jim? City Jim?” the Sheriff asks. “I didn’t know he was into that.” “Me either. What’d he do before he moved here?” the Deputy asks. “Dunno. Let’s go have a chat with him, shall we?” He looks to where Jim had been sitting and sees a nearly full martini still sitting on the bar top. “When did Jim leave?” the Sheriff asks Andy as she returns from the kitchen. “As soon as you two went upstairs, why?” The Sheriff and Deputy look at each other meaningfully and stand. ------ Jim’s apartment door is wide open when they arrive. The men draw their weapons and call out, but they find that the apartment is empty except for an orange tabby cat who hisses at them from the shadows. There is only a folding table and single plastic chair in the living room which makes the place look eerie. There is mail on the table addressed to someone named Lyle Cornerstone. After a few minutes of internet searching, Deputy Shannon finds an article. “Look at this.” “String of Knife Attacks Shocks Locals” A series of seemingly random stabbings in St Louis, Missouri, has left residents shaken. Two men were killed and a woman was seriously injured when an unknown assailant stabbed them in the back with a knife. Based on cctv footage, a single person of interest, Lyle Cornerstone, was apprehended but quickly released from police custody due to insufficient evidence. Police have no other leads. The investigation is ongoing… There is a single piece of paper next to the letters. The Deputy picks it up and reads it aloud.

Gentlemen, I have taken my leave, but I wanted to have a final word. Draino works remarkably well on pumpkins, did you know? I hoped that afterwards, Harris would take things out on his rival for me, but I forget sometimes that people don’t think like I do. If I hadn’t been ‘in the clink', I could have taken Walker out sooner and then I would have won. I do so like to win. Alas, I can see that the jig is up and must make my way. Please see that my cat is taken care of. Cheers “Jim”


The accident was sure to make the news considering all of the after events. There were squealing tires and a very loud crash that made everyone jump. There were three vehicles involved and it tied up traffic on the busiest corner in town. It created a lot of chaos and people ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. The police were dispatched right away and showed up trying to untangle the mess. One of the drivers was Jane Tyne, the manager of the town’s water system. The other driver was Michelle Henderson, the principal of the high school. The third driver involved was Geraldine Moffat, the owner of the town’s only hair salon. The three women were screaming at each other arguing over who had the right of way and who had caused the accident. Officer Talbot was trying to make sure there were no fist fights. “Ladies, can we please calm down?  Now, I am going to get everyone’s statement, just give me a second. I want everyone to return to their vehicle and wait.” There was hesitation and then the three walked over to their respected dented vehicles and got inside. Neither one seemed too pleased to be ordered around. After all, they were all powerful women in positions of authority and were used to giving out the orders not taking them.

They immediately all started to text on their phones.  The officer watched them and then started to try and put the puzzle together. It wasn’t going to be very easy. Officer Talbot looked around and wasn’t sure how exactly to proceed. The veteran policeman had witnessed hundreds of fender benders, but this one was a real pickle. He didn’t want to anger any of the women because he needed water, his wife went to the salon and he had two teenagers in high school. Suddenly, Candace, a young teenage girl, walked up. She sported a healthy amount of tattoos and piercings. Her hair was red, pink and green.  She chewed bubblegum like a cow munching on cud. He didn’t recognize the girl right way. “Hey, Mr. Officer, I saw what happened.  Do you want to hear about it?” Officer Talbot smiled sort of and grimaced at the same time. He had a two teenage daughters and thankfully they weren’t into self-expressionism as this young lady. Then he remembered her. “I would love to hear your statement, young lady.  It has been a long time since we have talked.” “It is. How is Heather doing?” “She’s doing just fine. I remember when you two were best friends in like grade two.” “Yeah, it was a long time ago. We just kind of went separate ways. I really love a man in uniform.” “Thanks.  Did you see what happened?” “I sure did. Okay, so you have the white pickup truck arriving at the three way stop first. The driver went to turn and the red BMW turned at the same time. They both stopped. Then a second later, the blue business van smashed into both of them. It was the one driving the van that is responsible for the accident.” “Thank you for your statement, Candace.” “Do I get a reward? I could really use the money. I have lots of bills to pay.” “I am not sure about that.” She looked rather sad. “I’ll see what I can do.” “Okay, thanks. Say hello to Heather for me.” “I will.” She left and he smiled. “I always wondered what happened to that girl.” What Candace had failed to say was that she had gone to Geraldine’s hair salon and they had really botched up her hair. She had refused to pay them and they had taken her to court. Officer Talbot looked around and an elderly man approached him. He looked a little scruffy, but was all smiles. “My name is George James and I saw what happened Officer.” “That’s great,” said Officer Talbot.

George James had been in trouble with the law plenty of times. Officer Talbot had arrested the man on more than one occasion and knew him rather well. “The woman driving the Red BMW is totally responsible for the accident. She plowed into white pickup truck, backed up and smacked into the blue van.” Officer Talbot smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “This is what happened?” “Yup, sure is what happened.” “Okay, thanks for your input.” “You are welcome. Is there a reward?” “I am not sure about that George.” George walked away. What he didn’t say to the officer was he hated Michelle Henderson. He was supposed to go to the high school to teach the kids woodcarving, but it had been cancelled. But, no one had called him and he showed up anyway.  The interchange between George and the principal got very heated and drew a crowd. Eventually, he left cursing under his breath. Officer Talbot was very confused at this point. He didn’t know whom to believe. Just then, Susan Course with her four dirty little children arrived. The kids looked like they needed a bath, as did their mother. “I saw what happened officer.” He smiled at her and nodded his head. “Let’s hear it.” “The blue van had the right of way and it was turning. The red BMW was stopped at the stop sign, when the white Public Works truck slammed into the stationary BMW and forced it into the blue van. It was all the fault of the white pickup truck.” “Thank you for the information,” said Officer Talbot. “Is there a reward?” “I am not sure about it.” Susan and her four children walked away. What she had not told the officer was that her water had been cut off when there was a mixup with the bill.  She had called the Public Works Department and after not getting anywhere and being put on hold for like forever, she had demanded to talk to Jane personally,  They had gotten into a huge argument.

Later, Susan had protested with her four kids how cruel the water department was and truly embarrassed them. Other citizens joined in.  It had gotten really heated when some of the Public Works Department personnel had walked out of the building and started to shout at the protesters. Officer Talbot had to break up the demonstration. Officer Talbot was now in a real predicament. He didn’t know what to do and so he motioned for all three women to get out of their respective vehicles. At this point, other officers had arrived on the scene to direct traffic. “Okay, ladies, I am not sure what to do here. I have three eyewitness accounts and they are all different. Each one blames one of you.” “I am not sure who you were talking to officer, but I was not in the wrong.” Jane was defiant. “Yes, you were, Jane. Isn’t it against the law to lie to an officer?” Michelle burst out laughing.

“You are such a hypocrite.” Before, Officer Talbot could react, the three started swinging at each other.  It was a real donnybrook with fists and feet flying everywhere. He attempted to break up the fight and for his efforts received a fat lip and a black eye. “Okay, that’s it. I’m taking all three of you.” He pulled out the handcuffs and linked two of them together. He grabbed the other and hauled all three into the cruiser in the back seat.

The ride to the precinct was horrible. They screamed and used language that made the officer blush many, many different shades of red. They tried to escape and he really got mad. He arrived at the precinct and hauled them inside. Since the jail wasn’t very big, he put all three of them in the same cell. “If you kill each other it would solve a lot of problems,” he said as he went off to tend to his wounds. It was hours later when they were released. What the judge did was to make each one pay for their own damage. Plus, they had to apologize to Officer Talbot.

The women went out to lunch to settle everything and had a great time. They got stinking drunk and staggered home. Then they decided to go to the police precinct and moon the officers. Just as they were dropping their pants/skirts, Officer Talbot pulled up.

He shook his head and couldn’t believe it. “I guess we didn’t learn our lesson ladies.” A few minutes later, they found themselves in jail again.


"I'm glad you're finally visiting me." Aria smiled, stroking Tenshi's wings. He nodded, looking at the horizon. The sun had already begun to rise, the sky turning orange and red. He hadn't been here in a long time, on the surface of the planet. The last time he'd been able to see Aria was when she was just a few years younger than what she is now. He remembered the time he'd spent with her, upset thinking that it won't go on for much longer. He was the apprentice of the grim reaper, and had seen the articles. Aria would be gone soon, but there was nothing he could do to change it. "Aria." He began. She sat up a bit, smiling. "Oh, I completely forgot. I've made lots of friends this summer, I feel like I'm starting to fit into the crowds around here." She beamed. Tenshi gazed at her happy smile and bright eyes, even the little dimple that formed on her right cheek at the corner of her mouth. He couldn't bring himself to tell her what he'd learned. "Aria, I want to stay with you today." Tenshi smiled, hiding his concern. "Really?" She asked, more excited than ever. She got up and looked at the time. "We have so much time to hang out. What do you want to do?" "You choose. You know more of this place than I do, so for now, you can be my guide. I will go along with anything you want today." He replied, standing up. He held his hands out to her in hopes of having his offer accepted. Aria smiled widely, beginning to walk. Her eyes glittered, and her hair black hair gleamed in the sun. Tenshi followed, praying to God that he doesn't have the reaper take the girl's life today, but, sadly, he knew what Aria's fate was. The end of the day would catch up to them both, and her body would empty, and her soul would leave him forever.

By ten o'clock, Tenshi and Aria had gone through their day, playing every game in the public arcade, eating sweets like butterscotch and ice cream, and talking about what they wanted to happen in the future. Aria had wished to grow up and become a teacher, and she wanted a husband and two kids of her own. Tenshi just wanted to see her happy for the rest of her life. "Wait, let's take a different path." Aria smiled, holding Tenshi's hand and leading him down a trail. Overhead, the blossom trees swayed in the soft wind as it caressed their branches, light pink petals falling down slowly. The path had already been filled with the petals, making the entire area feel and look

like nothing more than a dream. Soft lights from yellow lamps and fireflies shone through and all around, and for the first time in a lifetime, Tenshi felt the warmth of life, yet at the same time, he couldn’t help but dread the end of Aria’s day. As Aria and Tenshi got closer to the exit of the tunnel, the reaper became more visible, standing at the end with his cloak of midnight and tall scythe. This is it.... Tenshi thought, looking at Aria from the side. She looked so happy, but she had no idea what was going to happen. She had no idea that she was going to Heaven for her good deeds. She had no idea that her body would soon be dressed in soft colors and be laid on the soft bed in the ground. She had no idea that the angel she'd known from so long ago, had feelings for her. They reached the end of the path. Aria smiled at Tenshi and hugged him. "thank you for this wonderful day. Let's do it again sometime." Tenshi hugged her back, his eyes filling with tears as he buried his face into the shoulder of the girl who would soon be gone. He cupped her face in his hand and gently kissed her. They spent a few seconds like this. In this time-stopping relationship, with their eyes closed, shutting out the beauty of the world around them, just to focus on what they both had wished and hoped for their entire life. Just one kiss, just one moment, and just the slightest bit of hope that they could finally be together in the chaos that filled life. They pulled away from each other and Aria began to look dizzy, holding her head. She held onto Tenshi for support and closed her eyes, fainting-no... going limp. Her heart slowed to a stop, and her breathing continued no more. Tenshi stared at her, his heart shattering. Why Aria, and why this time? She was so young, and so fragile. Her pale skin grew cold in the shade of the trees and her black hair hung limply from her head. Her glittering eyes glittered nore sparkled, and Tenshi held the empty shell of a girl who was now gone forever. As Tenshi began to cry, for he knew that even in the afterlife, they could never be together like they were here in this time. Aria’s soul would lose the memories from life to spare her any guilt or sadness that life may have caused, and she would forget him along with it. He noticed a distant figure coming towards them. A grown woman who looked kind and respectful. Tenshi softly left a kiss on Aria’s cheek and laid her down in the soft petals, standing and walking away. When he’d finally stopped, Tenshi was at the edge of a lake, the water black with night. He sat down and stared out at the deep abyss, going over the sweet but short time he'd had with Aria. He looked at the reflection of the full moon in the water and began to smile to himself. Aria was in a better place now, where she would never be too cold or too hot, where she could be what she wanted to be, and do what she wanted to do. She was finally free, and Tenshi would continue to love her, even though she was no longer there with him, she would live in his heart forever. So as the angel stared at the moon’s image in the lake, he smiled and forgave God, the reaper, and himself.


He was still following her. She had stopped looking, but she felt it. His presence pushed against her back and propelled her forward, away from the horrible possibilities of what could happen if he caught up. She didn’t know who he was and what he wanted with her. It was cold out but Megan was suffocating under her coat. Her shirt was soaked in her sweat and her breath left her in short, forceful bursts. She had already passed her bus stop and didn’t know where she was going. Megan had seen these streets many times, but was never on foot when she passed by. Her high heels prevented her from running so she maintained a fast trot. Which meant that the man could catch up to her whenever he felt like it, yet ever since she got off the train, he had remained the same distance away with a persistent stride and obsessive gaze. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the man, so she didn’t know what she would say if she managed to call the police. But she was in no position to be making any phone calls anyway. What was she going to do then? Stop and confront him? Yeah, right. Keep running? That’s what she’s been doing and it wasn’t helping. She was choking with panic when suddenly, she was startled by a woman calling to her from across the street. “ Hola! Hey, miss!”

Megan looked to her right and saw an older woman, full-figured and short, headed in her direction. She was wearing a grey jacket over a crisp, collared shirt with two rows of buttons. She had black slacks, the loose kind that a waitress might wear, and black sneakers. Her hair was in a neat bun at the back of her head. Megan was certain she didn’t know her, but she unconsciously slowed down and the woman came right up next to her.

They continued forward as the woman said, “Hello, are you okay? I couldn’t help but notice you look lost. Do you need help?” Her voice was gentle and comforting. Before she could make up her mind whether she could trust this stranger, Megan desperately confided in her with a panicked edge to her voice, “I am lost. But someone is following me and I’m scared. I don’t know what to do.” Hearing this, the woman became alarmed. She sneaked a look behind them, and she might have seen something move, but it could have easily been an animal or some garbage rolling around in the wind. She didn’t think she saw anyone else other than the young woman when she crossed the street. But now she wasn’t certain. “Where are you headed?” She asked. “I was supposed to get on a bus to go home, but I can’t stop to wait for it like this.” “Hmm,” the woman looked at Megan sympathetically. “You’re right. And I know we just met, but I can’t leave you alone if somebody is following you. I live in an apartment just a few minutes that way,” She pointed towards the next street leading to the right. “If you want to call the police, you can do it from there and be safe. Come with me.” Under normal circumstances, Megan wouldn’t go to a stranger’s home alone. But she didn’t have a better option at the moment. So she nodded and the woman gripped Megan’s arm reassuringly as she led them towards her apartment. The apartment, Megan noticed when they arrived, was old. The outside had layers of peeling, faded paint and dirt from years of neglect. They went up the stairs and entered a room, it was exactly just that, a room. The bathroom being an exception, all other living spaces were crammed together and none of the furniture was new. However, when the woman turned on the lights, it was welcoming and felt safe. “My name is Margarita by the way, but you can call me Rita.” The women made their belated introductions as Rita locked the door, took off her shoes, and hung up her jacket. Megan was hesitant at first but eventually she took off her coat and held her belongings in her arms. With permission, she kept her shoes on. “Nice to meet you, I’m Megan. Um, I’m really sorry if I’m causing you any trouble.” “It’s no trouble at all! I was just on my way home from work. I work at the hotel down the road as cleaning staff. Where were you coming from? There’s not much around here.” “Oh, I work in the city at an accounting office,” Megan said. “The city! So you took the train here first. It’s not very safe at this time of night. Is that how you usually commute?” It made Rita anxious thinking that this young woman traveled the distance from the city alone every night.

Not that she didn’t think a woman could hold her own, she made it through some narrow encounters herself. Rita just didn’t trust the intentions of the people that lurked about during these hours. She had grown up in a place where you had to be vigilant at all times and she was accustomed to the fact that life was always trying to steal something away from you. “No, um, actually I just started taking public transportation recently. I used to take my car but...traffic is insane.” answered Megan. “I understand, but you should really take your car if you have one. There’s sometimes incidents of people being followed like you were. It’s not safe,” Rita said again. Megan nodded but didn’t say anything more. “Do you want something to drink? Some tequila?” “No, thank you. I’ve...quit, drinking.” “Really, at your age? Then how about some hot chocolate? That will make you feel better.” “Sure, thank you.” “Okay, then sit right there and I’ll make some.” Rita gestured to a sunken sofa that looked like it had seen better days.

As Rita prepared the hot chocolate, Megan sat on the sofa and intently peered through a window that faced the street. Her leg bounced nervously as she looked for the man. She watched a couple leisurely walking a dog before turning at a corner, but nobody else was visible. Rita brought over a mug for Megan and perched on the arm rest next to her. After blowing a couple times to cool her drink, Megan took a sip. “Wow, this is really good! Thank you.” She drank very eagerly. “I’m glad you like it. It was Chico’s favorite.” Megan looked up at Rita. Was Chico her husband? A family member or friend? “He is my son. Was , my son. My only child, Ezequiel. Everyone called him Chico. He recently passed away.” “Oh, I’m...so sorry to hear that.” Megan had never lost a loved one before. Rita gave her a sad half-smile. Then she got up, grabbed something from the fridge, and came back. “This is him. Muy guapo , handsome, no?” Rita chuckled good-naturedly as she offered a photograph to Megan, who put down her empty mug and held the photo gently in her hands. In the photo, a group of thirteen happy children surrounded an unsmiling, serious-looking man. He had thick eyebrows, a thick nose, and a thick neck. His eyes were dark and beady. He had a wispy mustache and a dark beard that just covered his chin. She expected to see that he was good-looking, but it was obvious to anyone that he was not. Nevertheless, she politely agreed with Rita. Rita playfully patted Megan’s shoulder. “You’re such a nice girl. I’m just kidding. People were always picking fights with him because they thought he was looking at them the wrong way. But that was just how he looked. Here, let me get you some more hot chocolate.” Rita reached for Megan’s mug and went into the kitchen.

This time, Megan curiously watched her as she poured milk into a saucepan. She had never seen anyone make hot chocolate like that before. Initially, she had been wary of Rita but now she thought that someone who was being so hospitable to a stranger can only be a kind and trustworthy person. As she stirred the milk, Rita continued, “Chico didn’t have children of his own, but those kids...they were his life. He knew what it was like to grow up Mexican here, to have all the odds against you. Chico always said that he wanted to help educate kids like him, so at least they would have a chance for the life they wanted to live. So he became a teacher.”

Megan looked down again at the photo, at the thirteen children, and at Chico. She was still feeling uneasy. Did he look familiar? She glanced out the window again but the street was empty now. “How...how did you say your son passed away?” she asked, turning her head back to Rita. Rita paused. Then she turned around and Megan saw that she was teary. She sniffed and fanned her eyes with her hand. She gasped sharply, “ Oh mi dios! I’m sorry, I’m trying not to cry. Too much of that lately. Chico would be heartbroken to see me like this.” To Megan, it seemed like Rita was the one who was heartbroken. Rita poured the hot chocolate mixture into the mug that Megan was using earlier, brought it to her, and sat down again. “My Chico,” she said after a moment, “he was killed. It was the middle of the week. It took him a long time to grade his students’ homework and it got late. I told him to stay home but he insisted on coming to visit me because it was my birthday, you see. He didn’t want me to be alone. He had texted me when he got off the bus so he should’ve been here soon...I texted him, and called him, but no answer. So I went outside, and that’s when I found him.”

It took Megan a second to process what she had heard, and then she gasped. Found him ...found him what, dead? On her birthday? Rita continued, “He was crossing the street from the bus stop when a car hit him. Nobody saw what had happened. It was a hit and run. The police still haven’t found out who did it.” When she heard this, Megan felt a tug at her gut as if her heart had dropped into her stomach. Her underarms stung from the sudden gush of sweat and she began to feel a little dizzy. But she had to know one more detail. “When was this?” “About two weeks ago.” Rita didn’t notice that Megan had started shaking.

“Oh that reminds me, you should call the police now. I can lend you a phone,” she offered. “No! Um, actually, I think I’ll be heading home now.” Megan abruptly put down her mug and started to fumble with her things. “What? But it’s not safe to leave without calling the police if that man is still out there. No, you should stay here and call the police.” Rita insisted, confused why Megan was suddenly saying she wanted to leave when she was so afraid from being followed earlier. Megan rose swiftly, but unsteadily, and put on her coat. She wobbled towards the door as Rita stood up, looking upset and worried for her. “I’ll...probably call the police later.” Megan’s voice quivered. “Okay, you’re welcome here anytime. We’re friends now, so you can stay as long as you want to—” “That’s alright. Thank you so much for letting me stay here. You’ve been really kind but, I need to go home now.” Megan hesitated before asking, “Can I have your phone number just in case?” “Of course. Let me know if you need anything,” Rita said and they exchanged phone numbers. “Okay, well, thank you again. Have a good night.” Rita held open the door and Megan stepped out. She couldn’t stop her from leaving if she was that determined, but she was still concerned about the threat that had led the young woman to her. “What if that man who was following you is still there?” “No, he’s not there anymore.” Megan said, almost in a whisper, and then she left. ______________________ When Rita woke up the next morning, she noticed a voicemail from Megan, recorded just an hour ago. She was about to listen to it when she was surprised by a call from the police, so she left it for later. It was enough to know that the young woman got home safely.

She picked up her phone, “Hello, this is Rita Sanchez.” [Megan’s voicemail] Rita? It’s Megan. From last night. Thank you for being so kind to me...I didn’t know how to tell you this...I’m really sorry. I’ve done something terrible and I’ve been the worst kind of person since. My guilt follows me wherever I go and I think it led me to you. When I heard you talk about your son’s death, that’s when I realized...Two weeks ago, I had a bad day at work and went drinking afterward. By the time I realized I was too drunk, I was already driving home and I thought I could make it, I guess. I didn’t see him. I was driving near that bus stop when I felt a jolt from the car hitting something. I barely looked, just reversed the car, and drove away. The police can confirm that the evidence matches up. There’s no excuse for what I’ve done, but at least you know now. I’m sorry.


BLUE CHRISTMAS Susan W. Hudson Annie was baffled by her mother’s decision to make all the Christmas decorations blue this year. Annie loved her mother very much. Annie knew that she was smart and pretty; she got that from her mother. Annie’s mother, Marie, had year-after-year decorated the house and the tree with beloved ornaments from years past. The theme was always red, white, green, and gold. Many of the items were hand made by her children and had been lovingly preserved over the years. After the mother abandoned all the traditional ornaments and replaced them with blue baubles, Annie came in to view the result. It was not abysmal, but certainly different. One ornament caught Annie’s eye, and she couldn’t look away. The ornament held inside a young woman skating in a figure-eight configuration in a small rink, over and over. Artificial snow showered down on her. She skated on and on as long as the battery survived. Annie thought that was the saddest thing she has ever seen. She stared incessantly at the ornament.

On the far side of the ornament, a black dot appeared. As Annie glared at the ornament, the dot grew bigger until it was almost the same size as the young skater. It took on the form of a man, dressed all in black and wearing a black hat. Annie stared at the man, and the man beckoned for her to come inside.

Being totally mesmerized by the scene, she did. She tentatively entered into the ornament. The man motioned for her to come closer. He took the skater by one arm and indicated to Annie that he wanted her to take the other. The man took one of the skaters' hands and Annie took the other. Together they pulled the skater from her monotonous route. The skater wobbled on her ice skates over to the other side of the ornament with them. With the man taking the lead, they all went through the far side of the ornament, dusted off the artificial snow, and looked up. They were on Fifth Avenue in New York City. They made their way to a place with a huge sign touting the name Macy’s. They peered through the mighty glass windows. Almost everything displayed there was red, white, green, or gold. Annie spotted another blue snow globe with other skaters trapped inside. One was a woman and the other her male partner. “I hope I can help you someday,” Annie muttered to the skaters. Annie shivered. The man was wearing a black wool coat over his suit. The skater was still wearing her white wool sweater, blue wool skirt, and blue scarf. Annie had left her warm home in just leggings and a lightweight shirt. Annie deduced that they would somehow have to get her a jacket. And, the skater was still wobbling on her ice skates, so something had to be done about that.

The man clearly knew his way around New York City and this mammoth store. He buzzed through the store to the section that sold women’s jackets. Annie picked out a warm looking fleece-lined bright blue jacket. The man went over to the nice lady who had helped them find the item they needed. He whispered something in her ear, and the jacket was theirs. Next on the list was something suitable for the skater’s feet. She was still hobbling along on the ice skates. She found a nice pair of blue boots warmly lined and just her size. She also picked out, with Annie’s help, a pair of popular brand sneakers.

The man spoke to the clerk. The shoes were theirs. Annie and the man helped the skater into the beautiful boots and held her as she found her balance while getting acquainted with them. Then they found a nice little blue wheelie-type suitcase, a pair of pajamas, several pairs of leggings, and tops and socks for the skater. And, of course, they had to find her just the right pair of jeans. The man again worked his magic and the girls packed the suitcase with casual-wear items for the skater. She was in awe of her new friends and her new wardrobe, but she carefully tucked her old clothes into the suitcase as well. Led, again, by the man, they went back inside the ornament. He became smaller and smaller and finally waved goodbye to Annie and the skater. Annie and the skater looked at each other. They grabbed the wheelie and burst through the front of the ornament. Annie called out, “Mom, a friend of mine from school is here. Can she spend the night?” “Sure,” her mother said. “What is her name?” “Um, Macy,” Annie replied. “Oh, just like my favorite store in New York City,” the mother exclaimed! “Mom,” Annie called out. “Yes,”

mother said. “This ornament is broken. Can I put it in the trash?” “Of course,” her mother replied. “Oh, Hi, Macy.” The mother said while doing a double-take. Macy and Annie could almost have been twins with their long blonde hair and blue eyes. They both had the small-featured valentine-shaped face. The mother caught her breath and proceeded to explain that their normal theme for Christmas was red, white, green, and gold. “Something,” she explained, “just compelled me to change over to blue this year.” “Macy, what is your favorite color,” she asked. “Blue,” the skater muttered. “Mine too,” said the mother. “Just like Annie’s eyes. She got them from her father who left us earlier this year.” That explained a lot to Annie. She, too, missed her dad. He had been taken away by cancer way too young. Things began to come into focus for her. But still, her main concern was her new friend, Macy. She knew she had saved her from a life of boredom. But what could she do next? When the mother went back into the kitchen, Annie took the ornament off the tree and placed it on the side table. The girls took the wheelie upstairs and set it on the spare twin bed in Annie’s room. “You can sleep in that bed tonight.

I’ll get you another blanket in case you get cold,” Annie told Macy.

Annie and Macy headed back down the stairs just as the mother cheerfully sang out “dinner.” The mother had set an extra plate.

The conversation was light. The mother immediately sank back into the depression that had engulfed her for most of the past year. Annie chatted incessantly. The mother asked Macy some mundane questions, and Annie answered most of them.

“You’re awfully quiet,” the mother questioned Macy. Macy replied, “yes.” Then, again, Annie jumped in. “That’s what I love about her; she listens to me without giving advice or complaining.” After dinner, the girls helped with the clean-up and settled down to watch “A Charlie Brown Christmas” - Macy for the first time, Annie, the 10th or so. The mother was still in the kitchen, making lists and awaiting the onslaught tomorrow of Annie’s twin older brothers arriving from their separate colleges. The girls were tired and went to bed early. They were both tucked in by the mother and fell asleep quickly. Annie slept late. She stretched and opened her eyes to sunlight.

Macy was not in her bed. She was nowhere to be found. The mother was excited and distracted by the arrival of one of the twins. The atmosphere was jolly.

Annie went downstairs and went immediately to the ornament on the side table. The skater was back inside, dressed in jeans and a bright blue jacket. She was ensconced in her figure-eight route. She was wearing her blue scarf. Annie looked around and saw that all the Christmas decorations were the usual and beloved red, white, green, and gold. She put the blue skater ornament back onto the tree. She ran to greet her big brother who had just arrived. Her mother looked almost happy.


        Sadie set the basket of rolls down on the table as the front door shut. "There," she whispered. "That should be it."  "What's for sup?" Davy, her younger brother, asked. His frowsy brown hair hung in front of his soft green eyes. Sadie smiled down at him. "A beautiful rabbit stew Mama just finished cooking. Come, Davy. Let's see if we can mend your trousers any better." Looking up, she saw Papa standing in the doorway, taking his mittens off. "Good evening, children. Where is your mother?" he asked, his deep voice like the rumbling of thunder.  "In the kitchen," Sadie replied as Davy ran into Papa's arms. "She used that rabbit you got this morning." After a few moments, Mama came out to announce supper. "Go warsh. Thank you for setting the table, Sadie. Hurry, Davy. After saying grace, Papa cleared his throat to signal he was about to say something as Mama dished the stew in the chipped, old bowls on the table. "Children, we must begin to head up to Oregon as soon as we can. I fear the trail may get worse as the year passes with all the snow and ice. I talked to a man today who is organising a wagon train. We leave in two weeks before the snow."  "But, what about our first Christmas here?" Davy whined. Mama placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, dear, but in order to make it there before the bad weather we must leave very soon." "You promised!" he accused, sinking into his seat.  "Oh, dear, we did. But we'll have our first Christmas out on the trail," she pointed out. "It's not the same," Davy grumbled back. "Watch your mouth, lad. You may enjoy your studies on the wagon again. Inside the warm, cozy wagon," Papa warned, taking a spoonful of the stew. "But what of horses, Papa? Or oxen? We sold the ponies when we got here so we could buy the house," Sadie asked, blowing on her steaming bowl.  "I'll deal with the fact of that later, Sadie. For now, everyone eat. Hot meals may be harder since it will be in the winter," Papa ordered, bringing silence to the table.

"Dear, don't frighten them," Mama pleaded. "Mama, Papa, please don't fight again!" Sadie begged as Davy looked sadly into his half empty bowl, his spoon sitting on the edge in a chip. "Silence, girl. Only speak when you're told," Papa boomed, slamming his fist down on the table. "But Papa-" Sadie began. "We let it go too long. If you are finished with your supper, you may go. No, either way, go to bed," Papa demanded. "No, darling. You just said yourself, that hot food may become more uncommon. Let her finish. Everyone must have at least second in order to, well, let her eat, John," Mama said quietly, looking down in her lap. "Are you on her side too, woman?" Papa growled, clutching his spoon so tight that his knuckles turned white. He looked down at it, noticing its wornness. "Go polish the silverware when you finish, then, Sadie." "I'll help you too, Sadie," Davy spoke up, now sitting up tall in his seat. "No, boy. Do as you are told, not as you please. I order you to read your Bible until your sister finishes. Maybe you will learn some good from it," Papa said, now eating and almost finished. "John, be gentle. He wants to help his sister," Mama cut in, letting her spoon fall onto the table with a clatter. "But May, the next thing you know he'll be wanting the dogs to ride in the wagon with us, he'll want his own pony, he'll want his own wagon soon enough!" Papa shouted, running his hands through his hair. "No I won't!" Davy cried. "Silence!" Papa boomed. "John, the only thing he'll want is love and a dog," Mama pleaded, exhausted from arguing.               “See, he’s being needy and greedy and unthankful! He wants more than what he has when first he has to be thankful for what he gets,” Papa grumbled.               “I wonder where he got it from!” Mama shouted indignantly.               Father slammed his fist on the table again, causing everyone to jump. “Be quiet so I can eat my supper in PEACE!” he yelled.               Again they became silent, only the clink of the spoons against the bowls and the sound of the wind outside could be heard.               “Are you finished yet?” Mama asked Papa, taking Sadie’s and Davy’s dishes.               “No, I’m not done yet,” Papa snapped.               They became silent again, Mama waiting for Papa to finish. Davy twiddled his thumbs and almost began to whistle but caught himself. Sadie crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table, pretending to study dirt under her fingernails.               “Who will take the first bath after I clean up the kitchen?” Mama finally asked, still standing over Papa’s chair as he purposely slowly ate his stew.               “I will,” Davy said quietly. “Sadie still has sewing to do on my pants.”               Mama lowered the bowls down. “Why, Davy?”               “I fell off out of that old elm in the back and scraped myself on a root,” Davy admitted.               Mama sighed. “Please be more careful, Davy.”               Papa handed his bowl to Mama. “Yeah, Davy. Be careful or you’re not going to have any more pants left.”               “Did you really have to say something?” Mama demanded.               “Did you have to add on to it?” Papa shot back. Sadie, tears sliding down from her cheeks, whispered, "Why do you have to turn everything into a fight? Is our family going to be split up forever? Broken into pieces like this?" "No. No, of course not, child. We will put this family back together if it breaks our necks and backs to do so," Mama replied, tears streaming down her own face. "Maybe I was a bit harsh, and I don't mean most of it. I'm just nervous about the trip, I suppose. But, don't worry you two. This family is together. Together forever," Papa said softly, wrapping them in a big bear hug with his long arms.  "Together forever," Davy whispered. "I like the sound of that."