CHRYSALIS

published by

the

CRITERION CLUB

of

MADISON COLLEGE

Vol. 14, No. I WE MADE IT .. . !

After looking through the pages of this issue, few of you would guess thal year Chrysalis was alma t defunct. Almost - but not quite. Several years ago the English Department of Madison College managea persuade the administration that a student literary magazine would prove a Ir asset to the institution, and Chrysalis came into being, sponsored and supporte Ir the English Departme nt through an annual allotment designated specifically for T, purpose. T Then, last year ... disaster! U In the interests of economy, the English Department lost its special allocat 6. and the administration ruled that no college funds were to be spent in supp or Tl Chrysalis; thus, even though they had agreed to do so, the several departments o Pl Division of Humanities were not allowed to redirect any of their funds to "J underwrite and save Chrysalis. W Student activities funds had already been allotted and dispensed. Pl Things looked bad. Not to be denied, the Criterion Club swung into action and launched a modera Tl successful subscription drive. But publication costs far exceeded our expectati A and although we managed to put out a winter issue, it looked as if our spring i Oi and our annual literary contest would have to be abandoned. Ti But not so! Sv While money was in short supply, time, energy, and a burning desire to · R, Chrysalis alive were abundant. Through the auspices of the English Departrr stencils, ink and paper were "loaned" to us and the use of duplicating machines Wi available. And the generosity of several faculty members kept our contest afloat. Pb And so it was, after typing, silk-screening, cranking and stapling, that our sp S issue won accolades for content (but not format) at the Hollins College _sum: C~ workshop, and received nothing other than looks of surprise and utter disbehef1 those at the workshop learned that we were receiving no financial support from Dr parent institution. Mi We believe that Madison College has as fine a group of young poets and write Pa will be found on any campus in this nation. Ph Apparently SCA does, too. That is why they have so generously funded us for Di current year and given assurances that Chrysalis will never lack financial support. V, Because we are now drawing from the student activities fund rather than fr Ri some special allotment, we felt it only just to expand the purview of Jo publication to all areas of creative endeavor. S In this issue you will find some fine photography as well as poetry and fiction pc future issues we hope to present plates of student paintings (both black and wt h and color), drawings, photos of student sculpture and ceramics, and perha !\t musical composition or two. dr, It's been a hard struggle, but worth it. And all we can say now is ... we mad Cb

- The Edi

ii thal CONTENTS

agei a In Memoriam ...... Sea n M. Rya n ...... l Jrte In the Un derbrush ...... A. Newto n Likin s ...... 2 for To Eileen, in Mourning ...... Suzanne Underwood ...... 2 The Vinegar Man ...... Garl and Dennett ...... 3 Untitled ...... Sharo n Everso n ...... 7 ml 6. A.M...... Eli zabeth Doss ...... 7 ,por The Flood ...... Karol Bowman ...... 8 : 0 Photograph ...... Chris Vuxton ...... 9 0 "J.B." ...... Sharro n A. Hughes ...... JO Wet Worm ...... Candee Bechtel ...... l 0 Photograph ...... Frank Marshman ...... 11 !era The Dead and the Dying ...... Deborah Fairfie ld ...... 12 tati A La Carte ...... Lorraine Lucey ...... 13 1g i On Finding a Castle in West Virginia . . . A. Newto n Likins ...... 14 Tears of Ten Years ...... Prophet Laurea te ...... 14 Sweet Dreams ...... Sara Araso n ...... 15 0 k Rembrandt's "Portrait of a Prussian Nobleman" rtrr Diane Ivone ...... 18 st Writing Obituaries ...... A . Newton Likins ...... 18 1;p Photograph ...... Frank Marshman ...... 19 um Sonnet of Sustenance ...... Suzanne Underwood ...... 20 fi Chocolate, Peanutbutter and Mud .. .. . Candee Bechtel ...... 20 )ill Dntitled ...... Jan Barrett ...... 21 Miracle ...... Elizabeth Doss ...... 21 iter Pale Days ...... Diane Ivone ...... 22 Photograph ...... Chris Vuxton ...... 23 for Die Grosseltern ...... Candee Bechtel ...... 24 \ Variations o n a Recurring Motif ...... Bunni Garber ...... 25 ~f I Rice Krisp ies ...... Deborah Fairfield ...... 25 John the Baptist ...... Diane Ivone ...... 26 io n Scapegoat ...... Dan Layman ...... 27 wl: Photograph ...... Frank Marshman ...... 34 ia J\t1antic II ...... Suzanne Underwood ...... 35 dreaming ...... Elizabeth Doss ...... 35 zd Chrysalis Staff ...... Back cover

:di

iii iv IN MEMORIAM

To sit here and play with my memories. Bringing back laughing color pictures of You. To I ight whatever went out. Or just bringing back, the soft quiet, Grey days of mist that we shared together. Our love was that; the silence with each other. But now it's lost, pu I led apart. Yet, one day . . ...

-Sean M. Ryan IN THE UNDERBRUSH

Jungles were tangled Long before man searched them, Although men blame each other. No, jungles were jungles in Jumbled pyramids of green eons Long before our minds entwined The finer parts we notice. One can blame nature for the trouble.

Yes, one can blame nature for the trouble; But among the dark shadows of growth And our minds, we perceive that the Terror of war drums came after man.

- A. Newton Likins

TO EILEEN, IN MOURNING

Morning sits, unstirred, unsipped. With patch of stagnant sunshine on your face, You lie lingering, hot sighs leaving Your I ips in steamy apologies For this day's unscraped, yolk-glazed plates, For tears that stain the cups of your eyes­ Dark, light-leaking eyes With no noon in sight. Yellow hangs heavy. Thoughts melt, butter-like. Duty dies Twelve arrives In a sudden bright. Your face, cleared and set With Sun's best ch ina-1 ight.

-Suzanne Underwood

2 THE VINEGAR MAN (Inspired by the poem " The Vine- eyes that c uld ee ar und c rners and gar Man" by Ruth Comfort Mitchell) an eye in her heart that c u\d ee into It was only a memory that re­ a thirteen-year-old on' soul. They ·ncted me of those days of youth were tender eye , plainly vi ible in hen morning air always sme ll ed f those years as tender, th ugh in many omething special, that special sprin g succeeding years they seemed changed; roma, a long tantali zing finger but now, with yea rs passed and her !retching out from the breakfast fry­ again by my side here today, very ng pan and tip-toeing up the stai rcase, much the same; and that heart again round the corner and down the hall reading my innermost thoughts. o my room, under the door and up to " You loved him a lot, didn't you, he bed to my somewhat sleeping Dave?" Her hand squeezes rni ne. ose; a smell, mother-made then, that " Yes, I did. He taught me the ith an invisible finger would gently world." ry open one eyelid and then the And now he lies dead, in a grave !her; a nearly cartoon smell that was with very few eyes shedding tears over eally there and a guy could almost his coffin. each out and touch it. Not quite After that fast June-the-second wake, but very aware of a difference breakfast , 1 would be out the door and n that particular morning, I would li e down the lane, faster and faster then, here , trying to capture that fleeting the new world would call to m e. It mpression of difference, of freedom. was much different than the May-the­ Une the second, Monday. And then it thirtieth world with its suspenders and ould come in one rush of realization books and paper-sack lunch, and even nd mixed with 7: 30 smells- my body, much different than the June-the-first hen the thirteen springtimes of ex­ world and her tie, white shirt and erience, would su ddenly come alive. shined shoes; today was mine, all Out of bed, to the closet. In with mine. Down the lane, past the big ne leg and then the other, my big toe cotton-wood tree; it seemed not too atching in the inside cuff of my far; across the south pasture and ell-worn levis. toward the river. Pulling on a tee shirt as I went, I The trees and clumps of under­ ould cat-paw down the stairs, missing growth, then jungle (now only a mem­ he fifth from the bottom so its creak ory), that bordered the river were the ouldn't betray my rooster's crow mysterious forces that made every rising. One eye would peek around summer day an adventure and today's ~e corner, silently capturing all the impelling drive would lead me down lghts and smells and noises that meant along the south fence to the deer he summer's first pancakes on a day jump, under the barbed-wire, across ith no school. I would scare her, I the drain ditch; steady practiced feet as sure, and I lifted my foot to take carried me safely on the not-too-firm he last step. plank that traversed the canal, and "Up pretty early, aren't you?" said finally to the well-worn path that led y mother's back to me as her hands to the old man's shack. oured more batter into the skillet, From the north, perhaps carried by nd my foot came down not quite so the river's flow, came the sounds of oftly. That was Mother in those days, the awakening town. I would pause hough then I called her Mom, with then to count the eight peals from the

3 hurch bell that meant I w uld be ju t Lincoln fo rehead, and the boy. oys in time t see his fina l prcparati n . o longer a boy, at least not some " o d m rning, Ned!" I burst int sa me boy, I can paint the pi, shoot the clearing where hi hed at, or clearly. I understand why Mc with ra ther quatted. would say: "Onl y to the MacFel suffe "M rnin', Davey," he repli ed as he barn. Don't walk with him any far fift e€ sto d up fr m bending ve r the pot than the barn." like 1 and jar , his weeping willow back So to the barn we would walk But i omehow re haping it elf into an oak, his words would match our pace. them alth ugh n t with ut effort, " Gonna "See yonder butterfly? That's still 1 be a nice day; a g d day for ketchup Swallow-tail, proud and arrogant H and vinegar. " lot like a woman." thro· He would begin like that and I 1 would laugh a little; I kne~ Tim would settle down to listening and expected me to, though I didn't un dow helping fill and load the bottles into stand why. "She's pretty." each his cart. "The butterfly is nature's gift theil He was an old man, I could tell , his the world. She doesn't do much, a be i1 face and hair co uldn't hide from even too important. The bee does all rs my young eyes the countless centuries work, and she lives but one sum: the of experience I knew h e had felt. The then dies. Bea utifu l, but untrue to agec long lines in his face and the dark grey ta sk given her." ever streaks in his hair told of many travels His face would cloud then, a pa his and many hardships. Only his talk ed picture of something deep in' t seemed real, alive. him I couldn't understand. We wo wee It seems so clear now. The very hurry on, resuming the le ssons of see. conversatio n comes back. It would summer, but I, ever wondering, wo pot always be the same. Slowly, steadily, remember my mother's words. O. disc blue eyes ever roving, he would talk he was a smart man, she had said, of the tomatoes, pink-white blossoms something terrible had happened turned hard green now, and the good him and he had gone crazy. You co· crop that the summer's sun would tel1 now and then, like in the wa y bring. He would describe yesterday's talked, but it didn't seem too imp, wh boilings and mixes (he never went to tant to me; he was the teacher ano lesi Church) and make them so real I could the student. And I loved him. 0111 nearly see the giant bubbles bursting The Vinegar man. Each Mone goi through the lava surfaces of today's and Wednesday and Saturday Wo cold preparation pots. Then, as I fin­ would go into town and seJl his wa su 1 ished the loading, he would hitch up up and down the streets of Farmi 111) old Faithful, she too a bit stiff, and we ton. Pa would head toward town. As we went, "Vinegar for salad, vinegar I 111, the conversation changed, I would burns! Ketchup, rich and red! Vin eg M_, learn of the world. I was the student Ketchup! Cinnamon woo d spice!" I a and he was the teacher. was nearly a song he sang. The to1 I'm sure, as I think of it now, that let him stay. The men avoided hi Su we made a strange pair: the old mule The women would buy his wares; th b) hitched to the old cart, very out of were weJl-prepared and cheap. 1 f1i place in that modern 1955 world, the Mayor received complaints, I suppo w old man and his worn-out look, but but few bothered him and he bother w quick smile and flashing eyes glancing fewer. His face was Farmington's mr e1 here and there from underneath a ument to the nineteenth century. 1 ai

4 '· oys of the town would laugh at him be wo rking amo ng the late cucumbers, no! sometimes, and with their bean­ I knew, and in my hea rt I was sad. : P1l shooters would fight imaginary wars The re he was, the big pickling pot Mc with the legs of o ld Faithful. She steaming before him, bent over like a ,cFe. suffered their abuses, as she had for witch at h er brew, and the sweat Yfar fifteen years, an d treated them much dripping off his brows and nose. lik e the nippings of summer horse flie s. " Hi , Davey." One hand mo ti o ned valk But sometimes he would ange r and tell me to sit down. I remained standing ;e., them to go away and yell at them. But and he knew I wa s bothered. ,ats still they would taunt him. "Going away, boy?" he questio ned ,ganl He would cry a little then and quietly. throw stones to scare them away. "To Boise." :ne~ Tired of their ga me they would run He gave no reply. Hi s hands tun down the street, laughing and pushing clenched a little. I thought for a . each other, yelling to him still, over minute h e would act that funny way gifl their shoulders. Mom didn't like me to again . Then he stood and I followed :h, a be in town with him. him inside. He didn't take me in there all Now he's dead. The same face, and often and the dirty once-wall-papered ,urru the han ds much the sa me. Seven years walls and the smell made me stay out, e to aged him, shrivelled him up some and but this time I followed him in. His big even his vinegar blood couldn't water trunk was opened, the first time I had a pa his life-roots and they dried and died. seen it that way, and many things were ' in! He hadn't appeared in town for two scattered about. He ignored it and wo Weeks so they sent some people out to went in to the bedroom, but I, a of see. They fo und him dead among the curious thirteen, peered into its midst. , wo pots and jars. A search of the place A red doily caught my eye and I · 0 disclosed: reached in and pulled it out. Torn in iid, name- Ned Jay Withers the middle, it was a valentine, a red ied born-June 23, 1906 heart with frill that said, I LOVE 1 co died- (approx.) September 3, 1962 YOU, a heart, aged and wrinkled by Na y Fifty-six years old! And forty-nine many years hidden in darkness. A imp When he taught me my final summer broken heart. ano lesso ns' That last summer was a golden "Who's Helen?" I called, seeing the , one. In August Dad told me I'd be neat signature and note. 0nd going to the city for high school. I The groan I heard in reply from the 1Y Would live with Grandpa and work the other room startled me and he rushed wa summers in his store. No need wasting back into the room, eyes large and rmi 111y brains in a small hick town like rolling, face red. With one rough hand Farmington, and it would cost too he tore the valentine from mine and r 1 111uch to bring me back each summer. raised the other to strike me. His neg My work would help pay for the food breath was coming fast, in gasps. e!'' I ate. One tear crept out of the corner of 10.1 I saw the Vinegar man once more. my eye and frightedly made its way hi Summer was fast being chased away down my cheek. Maybe the tear re­ ; th by the geese that began their long minded him and brought him back. He 1 flights from the north. September lowered his hand, closed the trunk lid, ,po \vould bring an early Fall and that the valentine now again hidden in the her \\>inter and spring would be the cold­ dark, and sat heavily on the chest, his me est in history. I didn't notice, though, head resting in his hands. He rocked · T as I walked to the river, a Friday. He'd back and forth, sobbing.

5 Iden hair, l ng to her should er . very proud of their winter trophy:, Iden hair, beautiful, beauti- though its length was a very i ful ... " thirst quencher, it lasted but a st l left him there bbing, tear run- tim e and was soon but a ~rol ning down my face a l w und my memory two blocks back ; I woula way h me; tear trying to erase the scurrying down the street in renei memory of the tragic ecret I wouldn't search. fully under land until later; running at Today's walk, though different,1 first , then walking. That was the last isfies much the sa me. Many things, time I aw him. behind us, tomorrow is Christmas, Today the ermon is gratefully this evening we enjoy the fleein gd. sl1 ort. Even in my twentieth year l light together. Past the Church, do' remember those day so well. It was Main to the new Community po seven years ago I saw him last, and my snowfall leading our steps and hid mind today only slightly hears the them behind us, failing sunlight a minister's last words. fast settling darkness our only gau ge " He perhaps was the only Vin ega r time. man in the whole world." We walk slowl y past the cemete And today, seven years later, one or now a blanketed white, its occupa. two salted raindrops again fall. well secured, resting in their de sleep. * * * [ stop.Each is silent. Those days were busy ones. Cathie "Why stop here, David?" Ca and I were very caught-up in our smiles up at me and squeezes my a preparations for December's wedding. "I have a friend out there," and t I had met her at the University and she gaze follows mine toward the grave had won my heart, and I hers. My the old Vinegar man, Ned Jay Withe parents approved. She occupied herself We stand, unspeaking. with the house and arrangements while From among the grey oaks Iii I finished my last quarter at Vet their just-new white frosting comes school. black figure, unfamiliar with the mar The three months' separation was trees and markers, the head turn ir forgotten after December's reunion. here and there under its black coveri Snow had already come and Farming­ to search out the names of ear ton was a white dreamland and we occupant. The figure stops now, co were her dreamers. Exams and papers ting off our view of Ned's grave, ar were soon forgotten. Forgetting be­ pauses. Silently it bends and we · came our sleigh and the future was the single long-stemmed rose placed t two white horses that carried us the tombstone. A slight breeze lifts tt through the warm cold, she by my side black scarf of the shrouded figure an and a snowflake on her cheek, where I onto its shoulder falls a long golde kissed her. A time of forgetting the grey lock, a contrast of gold on blad world and her bothers. Cathie starts, "Why, it's a womar The twenty-first we were wed. Who would know the old man there1 Ice and snow, icicles hanging from Perhaps the cold and maybe th the house roofs. How as a child joyful wind brings water to my eyes as i it was to run from house to house to turn and walk into the night, Cathie find the longest, cleanest of all, and bit puzzled and I thinking of an ol carefully break it off. Red hands, a bit chest and a torn valentine. frozen from the ice spear, nevertheless -Garland Dennett

6 UNTITLED

Alone I sit watching her tears bathe my window's pane. Flashes of anger light her thoughts As in hurt fury she lashes out at all she meets Only to weep herse lf into deeper Futility. Her cloak of no comfort pulled closer In hiding pain not of her own making Weariness fades her sobs to calmer sighs and cooler breezes In resignation, smi ling, she fastens her hood's sparkling clasps And quiets earth's trembling. Often I've wondered, as I wandered her torment and blacks, Is it for earth or herself that she cries?

-Sharon Everson

6. A.M.

Sharp sound draws arm from between soothing sheets, beckoning blind fingers find si lence. Half -open curtains admit streaks of watercolor softness caressing sleep-strained flesh. Besi de him , warm white moves in gentle rhythm of newlywed dreams. Rising, he moves from her world to his, pausing a moment to kiss closed eyes good morning .

-Elizabeth Doss

7 THE FLOOD

it came, tearing at the rock, the concrete slab, the leveed bag of dirt. it went, leaving shattered houses, drifts of clay, and broken lives.

- Karol Bowman

8 \:

"" "

t I \ ~ ....,. ... , ..{ ... .; .,

'(_

-Chris Vuxton 9 "J.B."

What place, so cold and dark, is this? Does all mankind come here? It is the place where some men go, Not out of love, but fear.

I cannot see the path I tread, Take my hand and guide me. If you but pause a little while, Light will come and you will see.

It is so quiet, death-Iike here. Are we the only ones? Glance around my friend, and you will see, Others, too, hide from the sun.

Who are these men? Why are they here? What are they hiding from? It is from knowledge that they hide, You, too soon, may come.

Time passes quickly, and as it does, Man too must pass alongside. These men refuse to pass with life, And so it passes by.

-Sharron A. Hughes

WET WORM I watched a worm one rainy day poke out head full wet (a sprout), sniff and snake along. Thirty tiny parts of worm weaved Navahoe design through beetles, bugs, and Rosewar ants. Puddles, splashing flecks of dirt washed from greenblade shade, spattered speckled worm parts wading sluggishly through glades.

-Candee Bechtel

10 -Frank Marshman 11 THE DEAD AND THE DYING

How the story flooded from their three lonely tongues­ Spurting, staggering, Told and revised and retold­ And events made meaningless gave echoing comfort to the chilly parlor afternoon.

Premature twilight hung like dust covers on the dim corner pieces. My sister, slim by the door, and I, uneasy on embroidered sofa, healthy in red toques and scarves and barnjackets, were regaled by the old ones with fuzzy adolescent cats who would not play and tales of memorable lambings, a letter lost on the way to lane's end, the latest tractor trouble and neighbor's rescue (we helped them with the details).

The near-bl ind sister Sarah was heard, softly when the others subsided to cleaning their chickens in the kitchen. She sat by the taunting window­ Beyond her the sun struck ice on the hillside- The humorless, heavy table and bracelet of high-backed chairs between us; I couldn't see her fluttering mouth for one of them- only her upturned forehead and her eager, distorted vision through tabletop-thick lenses.

12 Often this gentle flow of repetition brought a rising chorus from the kitchen. Eldest Naomi rarely left her damp and lifeless carnage, only disputing, joining for effect with practiced orchestration. But the in -law, Freda, frequently loped to hold forth in the doorway. Cacophonic accent and nasal tone sweepingly ignoring the supporting voices, even the interruptions of her own protruding horsey face and lightless sky blue eyes and awkward arthritic body (that unquestioning rural servitude to heavy weights and early morning cold) Their short white dog, his tiny muzzle and glazed eyes trapped in an orgy of obesity, waited comatose and enduring in the corner And I and my sister read the floating feathers and knew with patience the dead and the dying.

- Deborah Fairfield

A LA CARTE

Arrayed in bloody armor, the lame macruran stands, Awaiting the rape of scissor knives placed in hungry hands;

An international ambassador, he's finally met his fate. Instead of a divertisement, he's landed on a plate.

- Lorraine Lucey

13 ON FINDING A CASTLE IN WEST VIRGI NIA

Mounta ins are ancient beyond the Age of castles, but are new born In the chaotic state of the universe Found of late. Scientific apostles Scuttle from figure to number, nicking The thistles through which they stumble. They find castles are newer than mountai ns And mou ntains are newer t han worlds. Worlds, in turn, are babes o n a universal Plane. The apostles serve each other Their fi ndi ngs on a lib rary table, and After their feast of texts, cooked in win e, They settle in t he ir marbl e chairs to belch Upon the wo rl d .

-A. Newton Likins

TEARS OF TEN YEARS

Antique lemon, bitter son, Ancient grapefruit, father one: Worship ye this man of plastic­ He who guards his codes elastic.

Pragmatic truth, the trusted creed­ Republican's lie, the Democrat's deed . Spore of life, seed of damnation : Sow thy salt in Chicago Nation.

Future Peace, the promised now: Show us when, yet show them how. Spore of Iife , seed of creation Sow thy self in Woodstock Nation.

-Prophet Laureate

14 SWEET DREAMS

"That's yo u Marge J. Thompon! can ju t ee my elf in a ft green dre You 're just like that stupid cucumb er' with a nowe red hat n, itting at a You're nothing but a vegetable! " ca rd tab le or in my beautifu l garden, Marge was talking to her elf again. telling all th e go ip, th e wittie t m > t Probably a sign that she was losi ng charmin g per n there . Ri ght where I her mind. Well , she was sure that be! ng! if she did it wouldn't be her fault- she Brid ge i an awfu ll y co mpli ca ted couldn't find any other use for it. game th ough, and it take f rever to She put the cucumber back into the lea rn . Be id es, I'm no good at card . refrigerator an d sa t so lemn ly down at And nowe rs1 How ca n I grow nower her half-cleared breakfast table. " I around my kids. They take foreve r too. might as well live in that refrigerator No , I want to ge t there fa ster than that. for all the good I do! Look at me! Just Marge put th e flowers in their place look at me! Paradise. That's what on the table in the livin g room. Then, Momma says. Everything I need in a she returned to the cucumber. She was neat split -l evel on a 90x70 lot. Well trying a new re cipe from a hea lth food Momma , you can have it! " maga zine . Slowly , she stood up and began Well , I guess if I can't talk to clearing the table. interesting people , I'll have to read . Oh yes, I do have everything. Just about them. Boy, I wi sh I wa s a speed like every other woman in this and re ader. There's so mu ch to catch up every other stupid neighborhood. I on, 1 don' t know where to start. Most don 't want to be ordinary. I wasn't books are so dull anyway. Bu t, I'll meant to be ordinary. All I need is a force my se lf. Wou ld I love to walk little shove to step away from the into one of Frank's office parties crowd and show them who Marge dropping name s and philosophies that Jenkins Thompson really is! those people have never even heard of. . Finishing up the kitchen and mov­ Heaven! ing into the basement, Marge decided She pulled a book off of one of the to work on a self-improvement plan. shelves in Frank's library. F. Scott No one would ever guess that this Fitsgerals's Tender Is the Night. It Slightly ove rweight mother of three is sounded so romantic. She decided to going to do something with her life read until the kids got home from • . . is going to put herself on the map! school- after a valiant attempt and ten I'!] show Frank that I'm not as depen­ pages, Marge J. Thompson was fast dent on him as he thinks. asleep. First, I'll have to meet people. If I After dinner Marge and Frank sat in could meet the right people I'd be half their carefully arranged living room. \V ay there. For the past four and a half 'Tm sorry about dinner, Frank. I Years the only person I've had to talk guess I wasn't paying attention to to is Trixie, and all I ever say in what I was doing. I've got a lot of Conversation is "Oh, really? My!" Be- things on my mind." 8ides all Trix ever talks about is "You can't win 'em all. What's the 1-Ierbie. He's a nice guy, but not too matter?" dynamic. "Well, I've been doing a lot of I guess the best way to meet people thinking today. You know, about life \Vould be to join a garden club, or and what it should be . And ... now bridge club or something like that. I don't take this wrong, Frank. But, I

15 wunt to ge t out of th1 h u c and do and pick up after you. That's all L some tl1111 g d 1rfc1 en t for a change . Wa h, c ok, clean. You just wan I 011' 1 you think I hould try and get to be a lave!" some out 1d c 1111 1c 't , rank?" " h br th er." F1ank was 1cad111 ,, a u ual. " Wh at?!" " I !uh?" " h br ther." " I sa id , I want to ge t ut of th e "I !ere I am trying to be ab, hou ·c and be ·omcbody, Frank. The per n. Th e per on I should be .... t1 oublc is, I ca n't th ink fanything to all you ca n do i it and make fu d ." me behind that tupid newspaper'" " llow about omc ort of volunteer " Wh at?" WOI k?" "Oh , you are there! My , my, d " ike what?" we look inn oce nt. You think I la " h, ay, ho pital work?" tell when you are making fun of " I lo pita! work?! rank! I ca n ju t You're always putting me down once !" ee my elf in a cu te white dre with front of peopl e. Even the kids! Th "M ay little pink stripe , running around looks that say ·• isn't mommie cute1 ( "Wha cleaning up after people. How glam­ she's so dumb.' l see them, Frank.'' "I s; orous. I'd ju t love th at ." " Marge." need , a c "Well , it was jut a ugges ti on. How "What? " "Fra1 about ... " "Are you feeling all right?" "I'm " Just picture it. There I go running "Do I look like I'm feeling all ng somethi around the white hall s. Needed every Do I act like I'm feeling all right?~ bugging second. Why in no time , I'm sure they who's so stupid. Not everybody_~ aU the wi ll be wondering how they ever got goes to college is smart you know. humor. along without me." "Yes, I know that- neither is eve "Id "Sometimes I do." body that doesn't." "Ob " Besides, what if one of the kids is Marge wis hed she had something "He sick. I wou ld n't want to fee l that I'm say. She never did . All she could , "Ye letting them down ." was walk out of the room. She tried "/ ( "Well it's not fu ll time work!" go very slowly. She was desperat, it any1 " But it is work. I don't want to searching fo r a remark he couldr I go? work ! 1 want to do someth ing more pounce on. She paused for a mome rnuch excitin g." and found no thi ng . Then, giving Frar once "That's quite all right with me." a look of utter contempt she st to m "Oh , wh at a help you are . 'Paging through the door. Frank hardly n Pranl< Marge Th ompson. Marge Thompson ticed. He knew she would be back. S1 Once! report to the second floor, th e pati ent would wait awhile for her final offe "] in 2 12 has been sick.' Rea ll y,Frank ." sive. just · "Well , 'nothing ventured' ... ?" "Frank?!" gues, "Oh , I know, but what's so broad­ " Yes, dear?" "' ening about emptying bed pans? I "Just one more thing. If you thir ing) don't want to be around sick people I'm going to fo rge t about this, if yt to sa all the time . .. " think I'm going to let it sli de, you G "All Right! It was just a suggesti on. mistaken. I'm not a cucumber Yl If you don't want my advice, don't as k know. And you're not going to tu for it. OK?" me into one!" "I never get any anyway! Hospital Frank had mi ssed something. work- yuk! Who would ever see me " A what? Marge, what are yt there? You knew I wouldn't like it! talking about?" You just want me to stay around here "A cucumber! A vege tabl e! I'm n 'we

16 's all L oing to be a vegetable! I've got to get "Ore urse." t warn omewhere. I've got to do so methin g­ " D n' t be so mu g. / am no, 've go t to. Don't you und ers tand ? dependent on you. Maybe meday I ou're so smart!" will leave." "Thal has nothing to do with your " Let me kn w when the time roblem. Just what are you going to c me . I' ll want to find s meone to : a bi o?" replace you." le .. "Get a job." " In what ca pac ity?" ke fui "Work ?! That's not glamourous! " Any ... and all. " 1per!" at about the sick kids? Wh o's going " Ha, Ha, Ha!" osee you? eh?" She wa cry in g. ny, dt "I am perfectly ca pab le of being "Thi man is a milli on laughs. k I '" oth housewife and worker. Eve n one­ That's why I suffered with him fo r so n of~ celled anima ls do many things at long. Helped him ge l through school. down once'" Bore his children. He' a milli on Is! Th "Maybe that's what you need." laugh s- a milli on. That's why I married :ute?( "Wh at?!" him. Ha, Ha, Ha." rnk ." "I said maybe that's what you "Come on, Marge, se ttle down . need, a cell!" We've both had a long day." "Frank '" "You mea n settle ba ck, don't "I'm sorry, hon, but it's always you?" 111 rig' something. There's alwa ys somethin g "You look tired hon. Why don't ht?~ bugging you. I can' t take you se ri ously you go check on the kids and then Jd y u aU the time. I can' t lose my se nse of turn in yourself. l ' 11 be up when I ow." humor. Besides, it's been a long day." finish the sports page ... We ca n talk is eve, "/didn 't sleep all day!" bout things in the morning. O.K.? You "Obviously, the flowers look ni ce." know I love you, don't you , Marge?" thing "How kind of you to say so." "Are you sure it's not another one )u!d ' "Yes." of your weird jokes?" tried . "! can't stand it! l just can't stand "Yes. Come on, go to bed." ma te It anymo re! What can l do? Where can " All right." ouldr I go? Will you look at me? ls it too Marge went to the door. name much of me to ask you to talk to me "Frank?" i Fra1 he sl 0 nce in awhile- civilly? Do you have "Yes, Marge." to make fun of me all the time, "Maybe I could take some courses lly n Prank?' Won' t you help me , just this at the university ... just a few at a ;k. S; 0 nce?! Please? !" time. Wouldn't it be wonderful if I offe . "I don't make fun of you Marge. l could get into some really good Jll st have a weird sense of humor, l classes? Not ones that have a lot of guess." reading and writing .. . interesting . thir . "Some people would say that call- classes. l could make good grades if ing your wife a maniac is a little weird, the teachers aren't too hard. And just if yi to say the least!" think of all the stuff I'll learn ... You ou a "I didn't call you a maniac!" don' t think it would be too expensive r Y( "You said I needed a cell! Well , I've do you, Frank?" J tu got news fo r you . I already have one, "Great idea, Marge! I'll look into it f;' rank!" for you, O.K.?" "Well you're free to go anytime, Pause. ' yt lciddo." "O.K., 'Nite, Frank." "Was that another one of your "Sweet dreams." 11 ni 'weird' jokes?" -Sara Arason

17 REMBRANDT'S "PORTRAIT OF A PRUSSIAN NOBLEMAN"

He stands, all power in his face, preening bravely, while a childhood, high and far away as a vaulted ceiling, calls him back. Did corridors then or stairs whisper "king," "Sovereign?" Only dolls, small and wooden, carved for the young liege by some pauper sweet with purpose, warned him.

Now, the kaliedescope, a toy fondled idly, turns its jewels. They pause and seize, laying a pattern upon his eyes that sends him falling backward through his grief.

A dream of sleep is his, waking; and sleeping, a vision of morning. Between, despair for the roses of children cast at his unwilling feet.

Old and suddenly forgetful, he stands before the loving throng to feel his drooling lip betray his portrait's eye.

- Diane /vane

WRITING OBITUARIES

My God! These people knew how to breed. A grocery clerk with soiled apron And ten children; A truck driver With a bad wreck for his memoirs And nine sons to manhandle his coffin; A welder whose joints never cracked, While his eleven children played games. They lived one day over and Over again and again. Dead people Wear the same bland face on newsprint.

-A. Newton Likins

18 -Frank Marshman 19 SONNET OF SUSTENANCE

I want to be so close to you- A noselength. To feel the flutter Of your breath. A magnified view Where my face-filled eyes could utter The words that linger on your lips. I'd like to kiss you, have you taste Fermented thoughts, take thirsty sips And spill your laughter in my face. I want to write the poems which seek A rhyme. I glimpse them in your eyes, A blur of verse you cannot speak, Caged as birds that long to fly. To be that close! I'd laugh and taste A lifetime, sustained by your face.

-Suzanne Underwood

CHOCOLATE,PEANUTBUTTER AND MUD

Beyond gl ossed whitewood frame, contented, elf-like, play young smeared faces of chocolate, peanutbutter and mud.

Near twig-spanned highways­ watersogged airways glitter plastic wing reflections, while handpowered takeoffs ri se low above a sunbaked, freckled nose.

-Candee Bechtel

20 UNTITLED Its hard to see the rain, the drops melt into grayness softening the scape behind . . .

I can see the clammy walls the muted hues of solitary buildings the walkways to darkness resigned . ..

I can feel the rankness and the wind, the dim which enshrouds my fading hope, the nearby brightness, from me confined .. .

Yet, the trees touch (and sigh) the rainbow etched against the sky!

When it rains, I lose my thoughts to the breeze. My heart delights, I sink to my knees!

The rain reaches out to all that's alive. Do I?

-Jan Barrett MIRACLE

Peac h-fuzz warmth lies cradled in pink, as newborn human gropes for breath, and doting onlookers marvel at perfection embodied. Oblivious of attention but amazed by his being, my child awakes. Eternal fear dispelled \/Vit h secure promise, nine-month dream lies ali ve in parent-love, fulfilling awesome hope of creation. As adult hands touch, and man-child father smiles at five-year's bride, infa nt stirs, and the world of two's and three's becomes one.

-Elizabeth Doss

21 PALE DAYS

During those pale days they would lie drowsing, as the afternoon breeze, clear as a profile, cool as the fragrance ofa pillow, parted the narrow curtains.

Who were they, there on the tangled bed, where a shoulder marked the limits of the world, plaiting kisses into chains of sleep?

Who were they, behind the swaying shade, forgotten and smiling, impaled on the textures of the peaceful room so beautifully without mirrors.

-Diane lvone

22 -Chris Vuxton 23 DIE GROSSEL TERN

I gaze at gilt-frame portraits r sting akimbo upon age-thin linen, yellowed with time. I remember a soft wrinkled face smi ling down, haloed by a warm yellow glow in the sickroom. Eyes bright but clouded with worry; a comforting pat and cool cloths administered sil ently through fevered nights.

A creaking rocker still sits beside the prodigy-scratched tallboy, dusted, waiting for continued evenings by November fires with popcorn, chestnuts and stories read aloud (with rock ing motion back and forth back a nd fo rth) in strong sotto bass.

I st ill reca ll t he last visit, snow bogged, maple sweet; her mince pies steaming from earthen fires urging cramps of hunger and drooling mouths on varnished table corners.

The gilt-frame portraits of the past warm my hands as I place them face down in an ancient chest guarding tattered ribbons, cards, and love.

-Candee Bechtel

24 VARIATIONS ON A RECURRING MOTIF It is the fall -time of the year which reeks of death.

With its myriad multicolored leaves and its pale, anemic sun - tired and burnt out-held over from its summer engagement, it echoes of death.

In this time of mourning I stand alo ne, laughing in my new birth ... Rejected for my sti ll birth. - Bunni Garber

RICE KRISPIES Cold last night. Even trees were left stiff­ frozen for a moon of such immense distance. Everything caught in the vasty silence. snapshot

sun cracks down (yawns first, tossing beauty to beggarmen) plays with the prisms for a morning and, relentless, changes shadows back to green .

-Deborah Fairfield

25 JOHN THE BAPTIST

He wades slowly back to shore, watching the gathering disperse through the last rays of the setting su n. Night, he thinks, and slips to his knees to smooth a sleeping place in the cooling sand among the dogwood.

Blank and glassy, his eyes search the stars for psalms while his brain spins slowly with other things:

a roe, seen in a dream, running to the rhythm of her own leaping pulse; his own glistening face at midday, mirrored in rippling waves, swollen with silent prayer.

Suddenly he is crying. Tears spring from his rolling eyes and glaze the freezing plain before him. Prayers rise from the rocky soil in blue vapors .. .

Kneeling, bending, lying, he sleeps, mouth open, hands curled inward like the whitening bones of two small doves.

-Diane R. /vane

26 SCAPEGOAT

"Hey, Greg! ls Bill rea dy to go?" weekend packed pretty full." "Yeah , just about. He 's up in his " Ri ck's right," agreed Bill. " Be­ 00111." sid e , I d on't want to have to wo rry Filled with youthful en thusiasm, abo ut taking care of a girl when the ick jogged up the dormito ry steps. trouble starts. That reminds me , we e had always objected to the war in ought to stop by the shopping center ietnam. Now he had a chance to do and get some goggles." omething about it. He was going to "What the hell for?" .C . to stand up fo r what be believed "Aw, come on, Greg!" Bill was n, to speak out, to get involved. amazed at his ign orance, "To protect Bill, dressed in a wool hunting shirt us from the tear gas!" nd jeans, was standing in front of th e Ri ck was surprised at his friend's irror adjusting his campaign hat. One attitude, " I don't think it's going to be ide of the brim was pinned against the like that. This is supposed to be rown with a "March on Washington" peaceful. " utton. Rick couldn' t help laughing. "Maybe so," agreed Bill , "but I 'You're kidding aren't you, Bill? It is want to be ready if the 'Pigs' turn it ill, isn't it? Where's your three-piece into another Chicago." Uit and wing-tips?" "l didn't know Daley had been Bill smiled, "Now I've heard every­ elected mayor of D. C.!" joked Rick. hing1 The Freak standing there in his "You can laugh if you want, but I acted work shirt and bells, telling me agree with Bill. I want to be ready just hat I dress funny." in case." Rick was still smiling at the sight of Rick shook his head, "You guys do is "collegiate" friend's Freak cos­ what you want. Damned if I'm going tume. " It can't happen here," he sang to spend half of my ten bucks on )~ a monotonic impression of the goggles." Mothers of Invention." They both Bill reconsidered, "Good point, laughed. Rick. If we get gassed, we can use our Bill asked, "How much money are handkerchiefs." You taking, Ri ck?" Rick started to reassure Bill that "Ten bucks. That's all I've got." there wouldn't be any trouble, but "I've got fifteen. Guess I'll take it decided to remain silent, and the ride all_ Did you get a sleeping bag?" remained quiet and uneventful until "Yeah." Greg turned to Rick and said, "Don't "Let's go!" you think it's about time?" r,. Greg was waiting in the front seat. Rick had been thinking about how '\Jck threw his sleeping bag in the impressive the "March Against Death" trunk and piled in to the back seat. Bill had been on the news last night. He started the engine. didn't understand Greg's question, but Greg spoke up, "I think I can fix us he decided to agree, "Yeah." Up with dates for Saturday night. I Greg dug into the pocket of his know three boards that share an apart­ bench-warmer and produced a pipe. ll1ent in Fairfax. They'd probably even When he began filling it from a plastic PUt us up for the night." bag, Rick realized what was happen­ "All right!" Bill chimed in. ing. He had smoked with Greg before, "I don't think we're going to have but when he thought about "turning ll1uch free time guys. MOBE has the on" on a busy highway with Bill in the

27 car, he g ta little paran id . A Greg lit "Nothing is real. Nothi ng is rea buttons up, a di tin ctive dor fill ed the car . Greg murmured. around Ri ck automatical ly accepted the pipe The sudden chan ge in their envirc the tnn and took a toke . He inh aled deeply ment brought th em down. Thi were ~f and pas ed the pipe back to Greg. passed the remainder of the trip ! towa1t " Hey , are you goin g to skip me ?" tel ling each other wh at they m The) Greg handed Bill the pipe. He choked experienced. They felt close r togeln, and rea on the smoke. Greg w nd ered if this Rick and Greg even li stened patien: purchai was Bill 's first time. while Bill told them about the colr "STRH " Hold it in your lung longer, Bill ," he had seen in the sn ow. "Wh Greg sa id as he took the pipe . "I b The pipe had been filled three * * * the doc times. Greg laughed , "Oh, wow. I'm Wh en they got within a blockc "I 1

ripped! " the church, they parked th e car il1 but,~on Bill was asking for more, " Wh at's "no parking zone" and agreed to sr. Le wrong with you guys? I don 't fee l a the ticket. aclose thing ye1 1" "Christ it's cold ." Bill turned up L love a "Jt's not like booze, Bill ," Ri ck coll ar, "At least it's not snowin1 Now!" tried to explain. "The more you've Greg winked at Ri ck. ground smoked, the less it takes." His voice When they reached the chur ch, . ::He echoed in side his head. was overfl owi ng with people. I J By the time they drove by a freshly Greg was amazed , "Wow' I've ne,, button painted barn Greg was really getting seen so many Freaks in my life." " A into it, "Look at that! That's the most Bill agreed , "I feel bald as hell !" . H~.Y beautiful thing J've ever see n in my "Just keep your hat on , Bill . You .. w life." be all right," Rick laughed. , R Bill was trying to be stoned. He Bill smiled sheepishly and punch1 Ric laughed, "Hey guys, w-wow this is Ri ck on the arm. buses be-utifol!" The trio got in line to enter tl T~, Rick felt sorry for him, "Must be church. They exchanged greetings WI Mon \ his first time ," he thought. every pilgrim who was close en out an . , It started to snow. Rick forgot While they were waiting to enter, af 3nd h about Bill and watched as the snow came up to them and asked, "Areyo Gr began falling faster. It seemed to be guys hungry?" guy?' snowing from all sides. Now he knew "Starved," replied Greg as he su: "I what people meant when they said veyed the young blonde, beauti ful 8. "P that every flake had a different shape. spite of her field jacket. 111 q "Christ, I hope it's not snowing in "Here " she handed each of the'. B1 D. C.!" exclaimed Bill. an apple ~nd walked away. . What' Rick picked out individual flakes "That's really beautiful." Rrr' \\'aiti and followed their flights. They per­ polished his apple on his bells. d "' formed amazing aerial ballets. When Greg agreed, "Ah yes! Hope l ~- On'1 one flake came to rest on the side of a into her again!" Bi tree, Rick's attention shifted back to "That's not what I- forget it." the the total scene. Everything was a As they entered the church d hour vibrant white. Marshals directed them in to the ba! G They ran out of the snow storm. ment. The sea of people engulf8 R Not a flake was falling. The ground them. They became separated as the' Of tl was bare. wandered through the crowd lo ok ~: kn o1 "No. Why?" Rick was confused. at the bumper-stickers, posters, ai:

28 f re," reg replied ." ll w me." 1g is re1 buttons that we re di pl ayed on table Wh en th ey were within a bl ck of aroun d the wall of th e ba emen t. By the irclc they c ul d cc that the park ir envifl the time they fou nd each o th er, they wa packed with pc pie. A they g t vn . Th, were being herded into the anctuary clo er the chant became audible, " H , 1e trip I towait for the buses to Arlingt n. H , II hi Minh . NL i g nna they k They looked around , fo und ea t , win! " · togetl, and read each other' button . Bill had " I'm n t d iggin g this, guy ." Ri ck patie n: purchased a small red button with wa rea dy t head back t the church . the colc ''STRIKE'" on it in bl ack letter . " Aw , c me n Ri ck. Let' ju t ee "Where did you ge t that, Bill?" what' g in g n ," Bill in isted and "I bought it from a guy wh o was at immediately headed f r the park . Greg the door when we ca me in." fo ll owed . block "I didn't think it was a MOB Ri ck caught up with them just a car in button," Rick stated. the fi rst voll ey of tear gas canisters l tosr'. "Let me see yours, Ri ck ." Bill took aclose look at Ri ck's button . A white exploded . The kids started to run fr o m the )d upL fove and the white lettering, " Peace waves of gas . A fe w o f the "veterans" 1owin1 Now! " stood out on the blue back­ who were up fro nt managed to keep ground . them fro m trampling each other by iur ch,1 "How about you, Greg?" shouting, " Walk! Walk! " "I just got the ' March On D. C.' Bill took up the chant, "Walk! veneri button. You know,souvenir." A hand rested on Bill's shoulder Walk!" "'H , The wind was blowing the gas away :11 1 ey man, there's a rally at Dupont." from the crowd. They were safe by the . You: "When?" time they were a block down the "Right now." street. ,unchi Rick spoke up, " How about the Rick examined the crowd. Many of buses to Arl ington?" them had on helmets and gas masks. ter tt The stranger looked at Rick, "They The knapsacks on their backs were gs~ Won ' t be here for another two hours, probably filled with rocks and bottles. nout Man . See you at the Circle." He turned These kids were hard core radicals: r, at and headed fo r the door. Weathermen, Young Socialists, Mad .re yf Greg punched Bill , "Who was that Dogs, Crazies. Rick wondered, "What guy?" the hell am I doing here?" 1e su: "I bou ght my button from him." "Wish I had those goggles!" Bill iful "Are we going?" Greg looked at exclaimed as he wiped his eyes with Bill questioningly, then at Rick. his large red handkerchief. · the, Bill sp oke first , "Yeah, let's go see "Hey man, don't rub your eyes!" What's happening. I'm fed up with this The voice came from behind a gas Rii' Waiting shit. How about you, Rick?" mask that was topped with a helmet "Yeah , I'm getting fed up, but I decorated with day glow paint. I ru don ' t want to miss the bus." "Here." The figure whipped out a Bill sounded enthused, "You heard Windex bottle filled with water and the man, they won't be here for sprayed Bill in the face. 1 tl hours!" "Thanks," Bill replied squinting bai' Greg was ready, "O.K. let's bolt!" through the water and his own tears. ulfl Rick followed his two friends out "The gas is turning! Back to the th/: of the church, "Do either of you guys park! Power to the people!" The 1kf know w here the hell we' re going?" crowd turned back toward the park. an: "Yeah . I've been to Dupont be-

29 Bill and regj ined in immediately. wheel ' long enough. He foll oweH at the_de l "Hey, wait guy ! What the hell are crowd in to a tent. A Marshal be~ she p1cke y u d ing? " Rick had had en ugh. giving in tructions, "You all knc and look Thi wa the type f in ident that what we re here for. The 'Marchl "lames Fr w uld mar the peaceful dem n tra­ g ne perfectly so far. We want toke he could ti n, and he wa a part of it. " Bill! it that way. There will probablyl hiss mile , I reg! " They were lo tin the er wd. me hecklers in the crowd. Just ·: "Wherf He headed back alone. The bu e nore them. Keep it quiet. Reme mb, getic voic1 for the cemetery were I ading when he what that name that you'll hai: "Parde reached the church. Ri ck g t in lin e t ar und your neck stands for. It 's co1: ::what board the ec nd of the three bu es . out there, you're going to have toti V1rg1 He had a quea y fee lin g in the pit of together to make it . Be brothers. He\; When hi t mach. He wa in the middle of each other. Go single file into the nei: ~anded all these people and yet he fe lt so tent and pick up your placard an: 'Thank alone. He walked to the back of the candle. If you want to represent solll: na1'.:e ar< bus where a young couple invited him one special you can have a special ca1: .Hen to join them, "Want a seat? I'm Don, made. Thank you . Peace!" unhl Y~ this is Patty. We're from Jersey." The lin e to the next tent w~ bndge. "Thanks. My name's Ri ck. Nice to moving slowly. Ri ck turned to see wh, the Mar meet you. " They shook hands an d was behind him. A couple in their lat:_l me th Rick sat down. fo rties smil ed at him. He was surpr iseu uously "Were you at Dupont?" Patty to see them but it made him f~1 cold ci: asked. warm inside. ' He decided to introduct out of "Yeah, until I fo und out what was himself, "Hi folks. I'm Rick Gray son three~ happening. Then I 'got out of Dodge' from Virginia." . He kn real quick!" "My pleasure, Ri ck. This is my wi fr stand . Don seemed interested, "Was the Betty and my name 's Tom. We're from W1shec gas that bad ?" Maryland." seconc "No, not really. I didn 't stay long " It's really great of you folk s_ t~ proacl enough to find out." Rick noticed come out and participate like thi s. at h Patty's arm-band. She was a Marshal Rick felt like he was welcoming I thoug for MOBE. He asked , "How's the visitor to church. Ri 'March Against Death' going?" "We feel like our son would want Want Her green eyes flashed with enthusi­ us to be here," Tom spoke softly but had 1 asm, "It's really been beautiful so far. firmly. He gripped Betty's shoulde 1. Othe Peaceful, no trouble. Don's already She continued to smile at Rick, but a let h marched once." single tear ran down her cheek. back "It's indescribable," Don volun­ Rick didn't know what to say. He The1 teered. "You 'II see ." tried to say, "I'm sorry," but the char The old excitement began to fill words stuck in his throat. Garr Rick's head. Yet he was more relaxed. "We know, Rick. If you weren't He was among friends now. sorry, you wouldn't be here," Betty his Someone asked the bus driver why smiled. at they were stopping. Torn and Betty had a special card b\e "We have to get gas," he replied. made, bearing their son's name. BetlY he1 "We already got some gas," Rick put it around her neck. Torn put on nic joked out loud. Everyone laughed. one of the placards that had already The bus finally arrived at Arlington been made up. They entered the bu around midnight. Rick said goodby to March line while Rick stopped to have 'W ; Don and Patty. He had been a 'third a placard made. He looked at the girl li

30 >/lowed al lhe desk. Solemnly and efficiently eve ral of them returned the ge lure. ·shal beg: she picked up another blank placa rd One gave him the finger. He walked all kno and looked at him fo r instru cti on . on. Marchl "James Frankel." As he aid th e name He began to think of hi friend and int lok~. he cou ld see his young friend's face, th e ga , " I hope Greg and Bill are obably t his smile , his clea r blue eyes- O.K." j_ Juslir "Where was he from?" The apolo­ "Fight you ba tard , fight!" The temem!, getic voice interrupted his thoughts. hout ca me from a passing fifty- ix u'/1 ha1, "Pardon?" Chevy . . lt'scol: "What's his home state?" "We love you!" a female voice in ave toli "Virginia." the lin e ahead of Ri ck replied sin­ ,ers. Hel; When she finis hed the placard and cerely . thener handed it to him , Ri ck murmured , Ri ck looked in its direction, "It's :ard an: "Thank you ," and hung his friend 's Betty's voice," Ri ck thought to him­ nt so~- name around his neck. se lf. " I had almost fo rgotten about her cial car, "Here's you r candle. Don't light it and Tom. So los t in my own until you get to the other side of the thoughts- " He looked at her with :nt w~ bridge." Rick took the ca ndle fr om admiration and thought, "She's right. seewi, the Marshal an d got into the four mile We do have to try and love them. They heirla 11 line that had been moving contin­ just don' t understand." He watched JrpristJ uously since Thursday morning. The the young couple as they approached im fet. cold cut through him when he moved the floodlit White House fence. He trodu CT out of the tent. He felt sorry for the admired them so mu ch for being there, ;rays on three Marshals he passed on the bridge. not out of bitterness but out of love. He knew they were cold, having to They weren't seeking revenge, but 1y wifr stand in one place like that. The first only peace that would prevent future e from Wished him a good morning. The deaths. second shot him the "V." He ap­ "Thomas William Davis, Jr." Betty lks 10 Proached the third Marshal who smiled spoke the name distinctly, but Rick this.'' at him and said, "Think warm detected. a slight quaver in her voice. 1i ng a thoughts, brother." Tom placed his hand on her shoulder. Rick force d a smile, but he didn't They marched on. wanl Want to be warm. He marched on. He It was Rick's turn. "James Frankel, y bul had to relight his candle several times. Virginia," he shouted into the flood­ ulder. Other marchers were always willing to light. He thought, "The paper had but a let him li ght from theirs. The boy in said, 'Killed in action,' not much of an back of him touched his shoulder. epitaph." He imagined how it had r. He l'here was no talking, 01,ly an ex­ happened. "Jim takes the point just as the change of smiles and the sharing of he had told Rick he had done in his flame . letters. A twig snaps. Jim turns. He ren 'I "God bless you, son." Rick turned feels the sharp pain of bullets, then :ett)' his head. An elderly lady was smiling nothing." A tear moistened Rick's at him from the street corner. "God cheek as he placed Jim's name in the card bless you," she repeated. He returned coffin. "God bless you, Jim," he whis­ etlY her smile, not feeling the cold any- pered. It was finished. Time had on flJore. passed so quickly. ady When they passed a government He made his way to the buses to the building , Rick noticed the troops find the one that was headed back to ave \\latching from behind the glass doors. the church. gi rl lie instinctively flashed the Peace sign. "Wait Rick! You can ride with us,"

3 1 T 111 and Betty w re 111 ti ning ~ r in ce th e majority of the demo· about it? I hi m to j in th 111 . tra tor were at either Arlington, here?" 11 decided he w Dupon t the sa nctu ary was empty ex "We 're " Y u' II hav t the car, " cepl for a mall discussion group !hi man," P( B tty ap I gized. " wouldn 't al n the front pew. Pete, thebo: everyo ne'· bring th g od n ." wh o had so ld Bill his "STRIKP organize.' " I hate t drive in Wa hingt n, button, and hi s lieutenants hadn andgetsc c pccially with the Bui ck. Pe pie are gone to Dupont Circle. They staye: Greg I alway bumping in l y u at top­ behind to plan the strategy for ili ner, ''I'll li ght ." Justi ce Department dem onstration them!" Ri k mi led. He wi hed Greg and The crowd returning from 0u por Bill c uld meet hi new friend . interrupted the di scussion. " ay Ri ck, are y u hungry?" Tom Greg wa s one of the first to retu rn a ked a he potted a " McDona ld ' " He searched the sanctuary until h, ahea d. spotted a fam iliar face on the fim Greg " Yes ir ," Ri ck rep li ed, " I could row. He rushed over and grabbe! uneasy u ea couple of burge rs ." Pete's lapel, "He's dead! Oh God , Bill, by the " Me too," Betty agreed. dead!" He began sobbing, " o. Nol outsi de . " Well 0. K.," Tom smi led, " I'll Bill . . . dead?" Greg rele ased his gnr with P stop on one condition." and sa nk to his knees. surveye " What's that?" Betty asked. Pete grabbed Greg's shoulders and for Bill "That Rick stops ca lling me Sir!" shook him, "What are you talk rn1 Pete They had a leisurely snack of ham- about?" " the er burgers, french fries, and Cokes. Tom Greg cont\~ued to sob, Dead. began, wouldn't let Ri ck pay for anything. dead, dead . . . We're " I guess I should be getting back to The group leader turned to the not ju the church," Rick thought out loud. crowd, "Somebody tell me wh~,t th1 make "Nonsense. We're not going to let hell is going on! What happened? Gn you spend the night on some hard "I saw it." The girl stepped for~! rd Th church pew. You 're going home with as she spoke. She pointed to Greg, He for 1 us . We've rented an 'efficiency apart­ and his friend were at Dupont. The gai becau ment' for the weekend." had driven us about four blocks fro mtheir " You can sleep on the couch in the the park. The one with the hat wai of e living room. It won't be any trouble ," walking in the middle of the road, That Betty offered. looking through the gas back towa rd Want "No, really folks, I couldn't. Be­ the park. All of a sudden this car-" let's sides I have to get back to the church "A fifty-six Chevy ' " volunteer ed nl\ev, and try to find my friends." one of the boys. " . 1 "What if you can't find them? She continued, Yeah, well this car ''R, You'll have to go to the 'March on came tearing down the middle of the tio D.C.' by yourself. If you stay with us street and- you know, hit and run." , st r tonight, we can all get up early in the The incident flashed through Gregs 1: morning and go together," Tom was mind, "The gas, Bill in the middle_of th almost begging. the street, the car's tires screamin. g bele "Well, if you're sure it won't be too from acceleration rather than bre ak 111g d much trouble." He hoped Bill and as it swerved to hit Bill head on , the b0 Greg wouldn't worry. impact, the blood. Those bastards! e "We're sure," Betty smiled and Why do they hate us so much? Ali 1 squeezed her husband's hand. they can do is hate!" He turned to theI ,~ * * * crowd, "Well, what are we going to do 32 J p lice ca r wa quickl y verturned . he th.e demor. about it? Huh? Ar e we just going to il 1 er wd bega n chantin g, " Revenge ! r mgton ' here?" Revenge ! Revenge ! " etpty e:: "\~e' re n,o t do in g anyth ing now , Pete lo ked al hi watch. Ile had g oup th' man, Pete s firm voice demanded ti med i l ju l ab u l ri gh l. The traffi c ~•/ he bo: everyone's atten ti on. "Fir l we have to g in g cl wn l the Mall for th e " March RIK EI_ organize ." He turned to Greg, "Try on Wa hington" hould be co ming nts hadn- and ge t some rest, man." down the treel they had just blocked iey staye: Greg pro pped himself up in a cor­ anytime now. Thal would urely bring ~y fo r _ili. ner, "I'll get th em Bi ll 1 1 swear I'll gel the c p , and he wa rea dy for them. :rnstralion !hem '" He smil ed a he hea rd th e fir t ca r n Dupo n- approaching. Just then a girl sc rea med , "That's to return * * * until h, it! That's the ca r that ki lled Bill the firn Taylor! " The crowd urrounded the grabb~ Greg had jus t dropped off into an fifty-six Chevy. The first brick crashed ;0 ct Bill\ uneasy slee p when he was awakened through the fogge d sid e window on 'No'. NOi by the noise in the street. He went the righ t hand sid e and hit the passen ­

1 his grip outside. The stree t was undul ating ger. A woman's screa m was smothered wrth people, signs, and fl ags . Greg by the shouts of th e crowd and the ders ano rnrveyed th e crowd , "They' re all here scream of the poli ce sirens. f B"l l " Stone in hand Greg broke out of 1 talk im or 1 · ' Pete stood helmeted at the head of the crowd and charged the car , "You "Deao. the crowd. He asked for quiet and bastards! I'll kill you all , damn you! be~an, "You kn ow why we're here. You'll pay!" He hurled the stone. lt to thf We re he re fo r Bill Taylor! But we' re hit just below the broken window on •hat the not just here to mourn. We're here to the passenger's side. I? " make them pay for killing Bill !" Suddenly tear gas canisters were fo rwaro Greg led the cheer from the crowd. going off all around him. He could eg, "H1 The speaker continued, " He die d hear the cracking of small arms as the fhe •Ii for wh at he believed in. He died militants attacked the police. He :s fr~mbeca use of what he believed in. He was rushed to the car, " I'll ge t them Bill , I at wa1 their sca pegoat, a symbol of our cause, promise." He jerked the door open. . road, of everything they hate and fear. Betty looked up at him terrified. owa rd That's why they kill ed him! They She was cradling Rick's bleeding head. _ ,, Want to kill us all ! If they want war, Tom tried to shield them both with his teereo ~l's give it to them. Revolution! arms. Rick look up , "Greg?" Then he !\evolution! Revolu tion! " blacked out. tis car ,, The crowd took up the chant, Greg stepped back, "No. Oh my Jf the _Revolution! Revolution! Revolu- God, please no! What have we done? 1." Iron!" They started off down the Rick? Oh my God! " Greg felt a sharp ;reg'i street. pain in his right arm as a stray bullet lie of The weathermen took advantage of struck. He sank to his knees beside the ming the mood of the crowd. They began car. tking breaking car windows and tearing The gas had scattered most of the , the ~own street signs. Others in the crowd mob . Those who had stayed to do 1rds' egan picking up bottles and rocks. battle lay bleeding in the street. All ''I'll get them Bill , I promise. I'll get Two policemen reached the bat­ , the them! " Greg bit his lip until it bled. tered fifty-six Chevrolet. One lifted J do ''they'll pay! They'll pay!" Greg to his feet. Since the boy was They reached Dupont. An empty

33 w unded , h di p n ed with th hand­ he could help hi friend , but heh : cuff , but maintained I l lo much bl od. "Too weak,"~ r g' left arm. he nd offic r mumbled . The econd officer grab~, addr d Betty, "Ar y u ~ lk all hi w unded arm to help restrainhm: right?" T m tared al Greg, "Haven't yo. "The boy' hurt hi head. Plea e done en ugh already?" h Ip him!" A the officer began leading Gr,: The ffi er lean d ver and away, two of the ambulance crei examined Ri ck while Betty held the placed Rick's body on a stretcher b y' bleeding J1ead . The p Ii eman reg I oked back in time to see Tor I ked at Betty and h k hi head comforting his wife as Ri ck was placei "I'm rry ma 'm." in the ambulance. He stared blankly i reg I ked al the fficer in di • the officer who held his right arm an,: belief, "He' n l dead. He poke l then at the ground. "I didn't know: me! He ' not dead I tell you'!" He he babbled, "I didn't kn ow, Rick. I lruggled l break the officer' hold o didn't know ... " -Dan Laymli

-Frank Marshman 34 ATLANTIC II

"Noisy, hot pizza night," you say With backs to the town, hands link to play Your skipping game. Mute blur of beach Ahead . Now sudden fall of feet On dead, thud-suffocating sand, We pant our pace until the band Mumbles, rumbles, thunders, roars With clashing sea cymbals. Cold dance floor Grows wet, and whirling, waltzing feet Turn foamy, washed by waves. Hand heat Draws mine; two half shells meet. Slow dance, Salt smel I of your face . One final glance At the dark and ruffle-skirted sea, Eyes close .. . we dance exclusively.

-Suzanne Underwood

dreaming

Eternal drumbeats mix with burning jasmine and new-lit pipe, filling sofa'd room with dreams. Alive with hazy high-hopes, each member defines changing visions for nine. Chosen leader fashions foil and paper, igniting small space of holiday gold. As embers die and music repeats, ten minds touch, and become lovers.

-Elizabeth Doss

35

CHRYSALIS STAFF

Elizabeth Dos Editor Suzanne Underwood Associate Editor Candee Bechtel Business Manager Donna Spisso Publicity

Poetry Staff: Jan Barrett Candee Bechtel Elizabeth Doss Sharron Hughes Suzanne Underwood Donna Spisso

Prose Staff: Ron Buchanan Chris Colbert Elizabeth Doss Pat LeRoy Sharron Hughes

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