Digital Proofer Famous First Words @ Writers' Camp Famous First Words Authored by Wake Forest Univer... 5.0" x 8.0" (12.70 x 20.32 cm) Black & White on Cream paper 258 pages ISBN-13: 9781618460578 ISBN-10: 1618460579 Please carefully review your Digital Proof download for formatting, grammar, and design issues that may need to be corrected. We recommend that you review your book three times, with each time focusing on a different aspect. Check the format, including headers, footers, page 1 numbers, spacing, table of contents, and index. 2 Review any images or graphics and captions if applicable. 3 Read the book for grammatical errors and typos. Once you are satisfied with your review, you can approve your proof and move forward to the next step in the publishing process. To print this proof we recommend that you scale the PDF to fit the size of your printer paper. 1 Famous First Words @ Writers' Camp By Wake Forest University Writers’ Camp 2018 2 3 To the marginalized and the silenced To all those who encouraged us to write!” ISBN 978-1-61846-057-8 Copyright © 2018 by the Authors Cover photography courtesy of Susan S. Smith All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction, in whole or in part, in any form. Produced and Distributed By: Library Partners Press ZSR Library Wake Forest University 1834 Wake Forest Road Winston-Salem, North Carolina 27106 www.librarypartnerspress.org Manufactured in the United States of America 4 5 ABOUT THE BOOK The inspiration for Writers' Camp @ ZSR came after a group of ZSR librarians heard Jane McGonigal present “Find the Future: The Game” during the American Library Association’s 2014 Annual Conference. The ZSR Library wanted to provide an opportunity to engage students interested in writing outside of the classroom and to offer these students the opportunity to become published authors. The works are from the second writers' camp hosted at the ZSR Library. A group of 25 student authors was selected to meet at ZSR on the evening of Friday, February 9th from 7:30 pm to Saturday, February 10th at 7:00 am and write a collection of stories (or essays or poems) that were then cataloged and published in this book. Each participant is listed as an author and received a copy of the book. Writers' Camp 2018 was funded by the Z. Smith Reynolds Library, the WFU Writing Center, OPCD, and THRIVE 6 7 HENRY: AN APPALACHIAN GOTHIC Kari Burgess CONTENTS xx [Ed. Note: Graphic violence and gore] INTRODUCTION “And thou shalt eat the fruit of thine own body, the flesh of thy sons and of thy daughters, which the LORD thy God hath given thee, in the siege, and in the straitness, wherewith thine enemies shall distress thee.” Deuteronomy 28:53 Maura tried to tune the radio in vain, finding nothing but static on the other end. She had long given up on finding anything, but the monotony of the snow-covered landscape was lulling her to sleep, and the motion of turning the dial kept her awake. The radio popped, and a nasally voice crackled from the speakers, delivering the Gospel to a few late-night listeners a little closer to civilization. To Maura, though, the garbled sermon was even worse than the static. She switched the radio off. The snow was picking up, and Maura’s car was slowing down. She wasn’t surprised. She had purchased the vehicle for $500, a late eighties model Ford LTD sedan, built years ago for Sunday drives to church, trips to the grocery store and back, driving the kids to school. The rear-wheel drive wasn’t made to handle a winter storm in western North Carolina—was she in North Carolina yet? Maura hadn’t seen a sign welcoming her to the state, but then, she hadn’t seen any signs saying anything at all—just their snow-covered outlines against the dark sky. 8 9 At the next exit she would have to stop and get gas. She could friendly way, Maura thought. She was a good Samaritan, a get her bearings there. mother hen who can’t let things alone, just trying to help a The snow was almost impossible to see through now, stranded traveler. and Maura slowed to a crawl on the icy road as she pulled off “I—I just pulled over to wait out the storm,” Maura the highway. Please, please, please, she whispered, just a little farther. stammered. She felt suddenly like a scared little girl, cold and Just til I find a gas station. Til I find anything. tired and unsure of what to do. She felt her eyes sting with The car wound down through a curvy, mountainous tears. road into a valley, and Maura made it another five miles before “Oh, baby, don’t you have anywhere warm to be she had to stop. The road was too icy, and there were no tonight? You must be freezing. Storm ain’t gonna let up for a guardrails. She wasn’t going to drive all the way to North while. I’m taking you into town with me, alright? Let’s get you Carolina just to die in a car accident. She pictured the Ford warmed up.” The woman tilted her head toward her truck. spinning out into a ravine out here in the middle of nowhere, “I’m alright,” Maura said, but the woman was already her body to be found days or weeks later by some unlucky opening the car door for her, and Maura stepped out into the hikers, the mad search for next of kin to notify—she squeezed snowy night. her eyes shut and lit a cigarette, pulling on her coat and hat to “Well hi there, Alright. I’m Carol,” said the woman settle in for a cold night. with a chuckle. She seemed kind. Maura felt a sort of kinship She was wrapped up in a blanket and stubbing the butt with her already. of her third cigarette out on the dashboard when a truck pulled “Town ain’t too far: about four miles down the road. up next to her. Maura froze and double-checked the locks, and We don’t get much traffic down through Henry,” Carol told a tall, broad-shouldered woman in a brown hunting jacket her new passenger. hopped down from the cab and ambled over to her window. “Who’s Henry?” Maura asked. She brushed off the snow and then jumped back, seeing “This here’s Henry. The valley where I was born and Maura’s face behind the glass. raised.” Carol smiled. “Couldn’t never leave a place like this, Maura didn’t know why, exactly, but she waved. The you know?” tall woman laughed and waved back, then tapped on the Maura didn’t know. “Hmmm,” she said, nodding window, motioning for Maura to roll it down. Maura obliged. politely. “I’m Maura, by the way.” “Are you okay? What are you doing out here, honey? I “And where’s Miss Maura from, and what’s she doing ain’t seen this car round here before.” out here in Henry?” The woman had a kind, ruddy face and wore her hair Good question, Maura thought to herself. “Just trying to in a braid down her back. Her smile was a little crooked, in a get to my sister’s. In North Carolina. Outer Banks.” 10 11 “Well you’re about thirty miles from the Carolina “Sometimes that’s for the best,” Carol said with a border,” Carol said. “Why’d you get off the highway out here? frown. “You’re young yet. You’ll bounce back. Kids always Ain’t nothing but hill folk around here.” do.” “I was looking for a gas station, but the snow…” “Do you have any kids?” Maura asked. Maura trailed off. Carol let out a tiny gasp, as if she’d been pinched. Carol nodded in understanding. The two rode together “No,” she said after a pause. “No kids.” in silence, the moment hanging like smoke in the air between Maura’s phone was rendered useless by the lack of cell them. reception in Henry. “Do you get any service at all?” She asked, “I’m sorry—where are we going, exactly?” Maura holding her phone up in the air. asked. “We’ve got WiFi at the house, and a charger. Sorry, we “Oh! Honey! I’ve got room for you to stay the night don’t get much signal out here— there are a couple regional with me! I live with my brother Mark. He’s a character; don’t carriers that do alright, but it ain’t a place to call your friends mind him. He’s just got some more religion than most of us about, you know?” Carol smiled good-naturedly. “Here we are, do, even for Henry. Says God talks to him, and I guess he home sweet home!” she said, pulling into what must look like does.” a gravel driveway when it wasn’t covered in snow. Maura shifted in her seat, uncomfortable at the Before them was a squat brick house in the middle of prospect of a sleepover in a stranger’s home, but how different the woods, warm light spilling out the windows into the night. was that really from the last few weeks she’d spent in Indiana? There were a dozen cars in the yard, some on cinder blocks. A She found the parallels amusing. concrete out-building with two garage doors stood a little “I’m headed back from Indiana,” Maura offered.