Wraith Walking

UNLV Theses, Dissertations, Professional Papers, and Capstones 5-2009 Wraith Walking Jason Coley University of Nevada, Las Vegas Follow this and additional works at: https://digitalscholarship.unlv.edu/thesesdissertations Part of the Fiction Commons, Literature in English, North America Commons, and the Modern Literature Commons Repository Citation Coley, Jason, "Wraith Walking" (2009). UNLV Theses, Dissertations, Professional Papers, and Capstones. 1135. http://dx.doi.org/10.34917/2511803 This Thesis is protected by copyright and/or related rights. It has been brought to you by Digital Scholarship@UNLV with permission from the rights-holder(s). You are free to use this Thesis in any way that is permitted by the copyright and related rights legislation that applies to your use. For other uses you need to obtain permission from the rights-holder(s) directly, unless additional rights are indicated by a Creative Commons license in the record and/ or on the work itself. This Thesis has been accepted for inclusion in UNLV Theses, Dissertations, Professional Papers, and Capstones by an authorized administrator of Digital Scholarship@UNLV. For more information, please contact [email protected]. WRAITH WALKING by Jason Coley Bachelor of Arts Thomas Edison State College 1999 A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Fine Arts Degree in Creative Writing Department of English College of Liberal Arts Graduate College University of Nevada, Las Vegas May 2009 UMI Number: 1472404 Copyright 2009 by Coley, Jason INFORMATION TO USERS The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon the quality of the copy submitted. Broken or indistinct print, colored or poor quality illustrations and photographs, print bleed-through, substandard margins, and improper alignment can adversely affect reproduction. In the unlikely event that the author did not send a complete manuscript and there are missing pages, these will be noted. 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Box 1346 Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346 Copyright by Jason Coley 2009 All Rights Reserved Thesis Approval The Graduate College University of Nevada, Las Vegas April 17, 2009 ,20_ The Thesis prepared by Jason Coley— Entitled Wraith Walking is approved in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writin Examination Committee Chair Dean of the Graduate College Examination Committee Meynh Examination Committee Member Graduate College Faculty Representative 1017-53 11 ABSTRACT Wraith Walking by Jason Coley Pablo Medina, Thesis Examination Committee Chair Visiting Writer University of Nevada, Las Vegas With this work I wanted to explore the space between memory and imagination: namely, how much imagination fills the fissures that run though our knowledge of our past. The protagonist, Joshua, has been estranged from his family for nine years and learns of his father's death while in China. But without explanation, Joshua is awaken one morning by an old fabrication of his childhood imagination—a character now very real—who accompanies Joshua on his search for a fantastical object. Pareidolia is the phenomenon of seeing figures and faces in vague stimulus, such as clouds and wood grains. It is commonly believed that human beings are hardwired for such activity; our minds involuntarily try to put order to chaos. This idea has been made popular in behavioral psychology with the use of the Rorschach inkblot tests, in which inkblots are used to assess a subject's mental state. My intentions are to demonstrate the effects when Aristotelian logic encounters unexplainable phenomena-specifically, how peridolia can reshape reality—by using narrative instead of inkblots to assess characters' mental states. iii The characters here come from a Pentecostal background. I think this a good vehicle to express the supernatural (literally, that which is above nature) for two reasons: First, I have great intimacy with Pentecostalism, and therefore believe I can respectfully deliver both the awe and fear that comprises the strong undercurrent of that faith. Second, Pentecostalism has a fantastic mythos: glossolalia, the Holy Ghost, and resurrection are reality to some communities. The protagonist has to reconcile his existentialism with his Pentecostal heritage. For the first time in his life, he considers that answers to some important questions may not exist. As for the setting, the narrative begins in China and spans two more countries. I believe it is important for the protagonist to literally be the stranger in a stranger land: He has turned his back on his community and has made the last nine years of his life as transient as a person can. This is important, for identity is one of the lenses we perceive reality through; we comprehend the world in part from how it is different from us, and to do that we must first have an understanding of who we are: for Joshua, that is the realization that time and memory are not linear, but rather the past exists all around him and is inescapable. The reader will also find the archetypical Holy Grail. Holy Grails have traditionally represented the boon of a long quest and granted its founder with magical powers. Here, the protagonist has spent these last years searching for a legend. He doesn't believe all the stories he hears about it—a caravan of vagabonds aimlessly wondering the earth—but suspects that there is something behind it all. This is pareidolia: Joshua is convinced that there must be a cause, that within this ephemeral myth must be some unseen form. His IV obsession for finding the Caravan is the protagonist wandering through the fog with his hands stretched out. The mind also employs pareidolia when it sifts through memories and glues them into some kind of idea: a happy or a sad day, an experience, or even into a value. The same can be said of a story. v TABLE OF CONTENTS ABSTRACT iii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS v WRAITH WALKING 1 VITA 187 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS To my brother. Until now, I have never admitted to talking to imaginary people. I confess that when Alex found me at my youth hostel thousands of miles from home—I had unceremoniously left him behind in America—my first thought was that I had lost my mind. But I was being too hasty. I know Alex is not my overworked imagination. You would see him too if he were to walk up to you and steal your drink from your hand (he does these sort of things). That day I woke up to find my phantom brother staring down at me—the first time had had laid eyes on him in nearly ten years—I knew my past had finally caught up with me. Alex believed that God led him to the Cool Donkey Guesthouse. I thought it was chance. I had only been in Beijing an hour and picked the first hotel the guidebook recommended. When I walked in, I saw a young man settling his bill at the counter. Before I heard him say anything, I knew he was an American—he layered a shirt over a t- shirt, and sported a ball cap and goatee. He also had on a khaki shorts and knee-high white socks. His attire was peculiar because everyone else here was a hobo and wore the same underwear days at a time. I handed the receptionist my passport, gave my name, and signed the guestbook. The American gave me a long, steady look before leaning into my face. He smelled like sweat and car exhaust. "I know you.. .we went to school together." I told him I had never gone to college. "No, I mean high school. You're Joshua-something. You look different with that beard, but I still remember you." I stared into his face. There were traces of a boy I once knew around the eyes, the half-opened mouth with a capped front tooth. I remembered Buck McKenzie as a bully, a boy who enjoyed making smaller boys cry with fast headlocks. Buck McKenzie had started two classes ahead, flunked twice, and was the only eighth grader driving to 1 started two classes ahead, flunked twice, and was the only eighth grader driving to school. Buck McKenzie was not a marginal character of my childhood; I had been a regular victim of his torment. Memories I had shelved away years ago now fluttered around me—Buck had once stolen my bicycle, gave me a black eye in front of a girl I had a crush on, and when I had gotten older, the reason I had dropped out of school. It was as if pages of my diary had been ripped out and tossed in the air, me snatching at them but only able to read a few sentences at a time. All these years of ass-kicking fantasies I had harbored fizzled when he told me that he was a Pentecostal pastor. Buck had found the Lord (or the Lord found him, I can't remember) and told him to go to China and preach to condemned men and women before they were executed. He told me this as if none of the things he had done to me had ever happened. His accent was distinctly rural: I thought of Alex speaking through the nose, drawing out words over extra syllables. Buck McKenzie was late to the airport and apologized for cutting our reunion short. With great agility, he slung his thick arm around my neck in a hug.

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