Des Moines Area Community College Open SPACE @ DMACC

Expressions Student Work

1999 Expressions 1998-1999 Rebecca Nau

Lynn Walters

Vickie Shields

Laurie Mullen

Jeff Lee

See next page for additional authors

Follow this and additional works at: https://openspace.dmacc.edu/expressions

Recommended Citation Nau, Rebecca; Walters, Lynn; Shields, Vickie; Mullen, Laurie; Lee, Jeff; Prince, Crystal; Jacobs, Linda; Biggar, Heather; Brogden, Dorthy; Corbett, Sherry Lee; Swanson, Carey; Craig, Shirley; Gerberich, Steve; Small, Connie; Cunningham, Toby; Looker, Colleen; Hauptman, Ruth K.; Templeton, Teri; S.T.; Irwin, Scott; Small, Connie; Weikal, Ray; Robinson, Arianne; Asbille, James Edward; Clark, Amy Jo; Mullen, Laurie; Powell, Lorraine; and Roe, Jason, "Expressions 1998-1999" (1999). Expressions. 22. https://openspace.dmacc.edu/expressions/22

This Book is brought to you for free and open access by the Student Work at Open SPACE @ DMACC. It has been accepted for inclusion in Expressions by an authorized administrator of Open SPACE @ DMACC. For more information, please contact [email protected]. Authors Rebecca Nau, Lynn Walters, Vickie Shields, Laurie Mullen, Jeff Lee, Crystal Prince, Linda Jacobs, Heather Biggar, Dorthy Brogden, Sherry Lee Corbett, Carey Swanson, Shirley Craig, Steve Gerberich, Connie Small, Toby Cunningham, Colleen Looker, Ruth K. Hauptman, Teri Templeton, S.T., Scott rI win, Connie Small, Ray Weikal, Arianne Robinson, James Edward Asbille, Amy Jo Clark, Laurie Mullen, Lorraine Powell, and Jason Roe

This book is available at Open SPACE @ DMACC: https://openspace.dmacc.edu/expressions/22 For Reference

Not to be taken from this library

V O L U M E X X 1 9 9 8 - 1 9 9 9 Expressions is an annual student literary/ art publication of Des Moines Area Community College in Ankeny, Iowa. Its purpose is to showcase and celebrate the talents of its students.

Each issue also features an Iowa artist as a source of inspiration for students, and as a way of sharing with our communities the gifted contributors to our state and nati onal culture.

A special thanks to Steve Gerberich fo r his communication and cooperation with providing materials throughout the yea r.

-/- THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE PAGE 4 Rebecca Nau

A TREE FOR SHELLEY PAGE 6 Linda Jacobs

-/- AND THE WHITE DRESS HAD RUFFLES PAGE 8 Dorthy Brogden

CHICKEN COOP, cmcA 1990 PAGE 10 Sherry Lee Corbett

-/- ON THE MOVE WITH STEVE GERBERICH PAGE 12 Carey Swanson

OFFICE GOSSIP PAGE 20 Connie Small

-/- WINTER PAGE 21 Colleen Looker

INCANTATIONS PAGE 22 Ruth K. Hauptman

-/- ADVENTURE MARTY PAGE 24 S.T

SLEEPING WITH WALT A VILLANELLE PAGE 28 Connie Small

-/- SWEET AS THE RED SAUCE IN THE CHINESE PLACE DOWN THE STREET PAGE 30 Ray Weikal

CHARLIE PAGE 32 James Edward Asbille

-/- THE BOOK PAGE 42 Lorraine Powell THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE - Nebecca New I Best Poem of DMACC creative writing co ntest

i. peel back the edge of old photographs crusted with age and burrow inside push between the dimpled rolls of baby fat wiggle in among the elfin mass of downy soft white curls

close my eyes and lead myself back to the origin slip behind the curtain into th e blackness beyond where the mind rests

so many tears have been shed that it is time to return to the water fro m which i came everything is flu shed out with increasing waves until i feel nothing but a separateness

dig up all learned lines, start at th e beginning and say them backwa rds all prejudices, all fear, all self-effacement, all mental roadblocks shattered the great mass disintegrates, crumbles to powder soft as white beach sand

i look back and see imprints of two small round feet, left as i passed through each toe a distinct littl e coin pl anted firml y and evenly, their directio n sure i fo ll owed the becko n of the song of trickling water

my consciousness fa lls away fro m me as i slice to the depths to that place full of virginal power where the seed is planted to the pure untainted earthy brown center from which all growth begins

th e place that sme ll s of wet soil and blood

the beginnings of life

photos by ly1111 \Vla /te1:,·. DMA CC Photo Depar111 1e 11t and Vickie Shields ii. it fill s the center of each vertebrae, pushing o ut the spongy soft chord replacing it with a core from this mighty in fa lli ble tree its branches wriggle up the back of my neck intertwining with my sinew raising my chin high its leaves and twigs reinforce my arms stretching them further pulling the skin taut protruding to the ends of my fin gertips i am supported by my own rock-solid roots

iii. the calm whispering song fill s my ears, soothing slowing my thoughts my new green eyes are unbound slowly and bro ught to the light they fill with fresh cool li quid air i am able to feel all i soak up pleasure and knowle lge through every thirsty pore tiny electric currents run through eve1y cell , teasing ti ckling as they dart and skitter over my skin my decayed and tired mind melts into a thick coating that lines my skull cushioning my budding thoughts and infa nt questio ns definiti on is now fo und in a strength that glows with ri ch and vivid tints grabbing energy like rekindled embers glowering fi ercely in the breeze

photos hy La 11 rie M11lh! 11, Jej/Lee a nd C1ys1al Prince A TREE FOR SHELLEY­ Linda Jacobs

Elegant willow, stirring magic on the hillside, share your mysteri es with Shelley.

Her seasons are so new and her babies gaze at the world through curious eyes.

Tell her how you laugh while weeping, how you cool your gentle core while basking in the sun.

Let her see you sheltering innocent creatures in the cascade of your feathery umbrell a, and watch as you spring back after the storms, bowing gracefully, obli vious to your wounded limbs.

Show her how you bend without breaking, dance with firefli es to the cadence of heartsong, not to fill the world but because you are fill ed. photo by /-leather Biggar AND THE WHITE DRESS HAD RUFFLES - Dorthy Brogden

How strange, a boy in a dress at age maybe one and a half Bare feet showing while he stands on that table A large curl designed with ca re nestles on his head And his white dress has ruffles.

His chubby arm is around a bearded man's neck Who is this man? Neither he nor the boy is smiling How long has he stood there?

As I look closely, I see a tiny smile And his eyes are blue with sparkle Is he pinching the back of the man's neck? Are his bare feet cold?

The man's beard is as white as his dress He does not have a smile He has stood there for 98 years Sta ring our, staring out.

Does he look clown on a ll that pass' Does he wonder what they think? Why a little boy such as you Has a white dress with ruffles.

CHICKEN COOP, CIRCA 1990 - Sherry Lee Corbett

You stand there defiant against time, leaning into the wind, denying your need to crumble and fall. The wounds of time leave you gaping, open to predators to steal pieces of you and run away into the night; building a shelter of their own. The cologne you wear comes to me on a breeze; the stench of age, like an ancient attic, or a buried treasure. Inside you hide your history; animal droppings and crushed bird eggs, rusted nai ls and ro ll s of wire. You once stood so strong. I run my hand across your walls, slivers of wood prick and pain me, but remind me you are in agony too; for what you've lost from your youth must bring great sadness. A north wind comes up and sends your door hurling through the ai r. You 've lost another piece of you to time. Through all of this you must know that he loves you; that littl e boy, who spends hours within your battered walls. Pretending and exploring, seeing life as it used to be. He digs and builds, stores and stacks, giving you a new sense of purpose. Your demise is inevitable, but in the short time you are still here, you give that little boy a refuge and act a a reminder of a li fe that we ca n onl y imagine.

photos by Ca rey S1N111so11 photo by Shirle11 Craig On the Move with Steve Gerberich interviewed and written by Carey Swanson

object he discovers inspire the idea fo r a great piece. Tea kettles, fo r instance - Steve's trademark. Taking the common tea kettle, he flips it upside down, the spo ut thus becoming the nose. Then by adding othe r sund1y parts fo r eyes, ears and mouth, he composes myri ad "fa ces" of people from every wa lk of life. In 1996, a display honoring the Beatles, located at the Kaleidoscope in downtown Des Moines, featured the Gadgets, a mechanical group of moving "kettle­ heads," which epitomized the 60s rock sensation. The Des Moines Art Center, in 1997, hosted a Gerberi ch exhibition: Tb e Gerberich Grand Orchestra, a diverse group of musicians toting banj os, guitars, drums, saxo phones, trombones and other instruments. The Orchestra was install ed, complete with a conductor waving his baton. Gerberi ch was excited about this invitation to exhibit his work at the Art Center saying, "it's hard fo r a local artist to get into the Art Center, but Debra Lehmann had the vision to include this work. "

****** Toasters, plow parts, tennis shoes and stati onary bikes. Golf cl ubs, forks, spoons I first met Steve across the street from and building cornices. All of these and other the hardware store in Waukee. He was in a items - the li st could go on for miles - have blue and white - and played interesting roles in the mechanical slightly rusting - Chevy sculptures er aced by Steve Gerberi ch. Steve, pickup, sitting ve1y casu­ an Iowa nati ve, possesses the extraordinary a ll y, left elbow hanging genius of tra nsforming an everyday object comfo rtably o utside the found lying around the house or ya rd into a window. After introduc­ mechanized something or other that ca ptivates tions, I ho pped in my audiences young and old. He'll use just car and fo ll owed Steve, about anything ava il abl e to create unique leaving the "Triangle" behind and heading sculptures, either by corning up with an id ea west on Highway 6, toward his studio, which and finding the right part, or by letting the is hidden among honey locusts and tall grass.

line art by Steue Gerbericb, pbo/os by Healber Biggar Arri ving at his property entrance, a parts: wheels, coffeepots and tea kettl es, large blue fi sh, high on a post, greeted us at hinges, colanders, sil ver wa re, fa rm imple­ the gate . Further up the path toward the stu­ ments - whatever - were everywhere I dio, vari ous images of ducks, nailed to th e looked. There were a couple of sma ll fi shing occasional tree, swam airily through the boats in the yard (the river's cl ose by) and an woodsy ground - mostl y unpainted, wooden old , decrepit red tractor sa t out in the fi eld cutouts, although one was painted teal with a not fa r from the studio surrounded by ta ll bright orange beak. The clay bust of a man, grass. poised in sentry position, rested on one post, Steve jumped out of his truck and in partia ll y hidden in the trees. Picture frames the wa ning sunlight I noticed his ca mp shirt. were hung in a ca refree manner from other Aga inst a white cloth background, swimming fence posts, with th e surrounding count1yside back and forth, were fi sh - all kinds, all sizes. as the "paintings" they encased. Al ong th e It re fl ected his surroundings and an emerging west fence lin e, work boots, a green pair of facet of his personali ty : eccentricity. We gloves and a cap that sa id Athletics with a pi c­ stepped through more ta ll grass as he led me ture of a beaver, were tacked on the posts across th e threshold into th e li ving quarters of between strands of barbed wire. his studio. Once inside, J breath ed in the Fo ll owing this rathe r capricious tra il , wonderful blend of age and wood. The place we bumped over the short, coarse path until was rusti c, with exposed ceiling bea ms and a we fi nall y approached a quaint, two-room rough, wooden fl oor. I noticed a small pile of shanty surrounded by things - lots of things. anthill-type dirt on the fl oor. Nonchalantl y, Everyday items of today and yester­ he told me he had termites, totall y unaffected day were strewn all by th e fact. There over, but not in disar­ was no running water, ray exactl y; each piece but Steve had outfit­ seemed to belong ted his cozy home where it sat. Long, with a television, tele­ brimming ta bles of phone and fireplace. sun-worn and rusting Across several wa ll s

Steve Gerberich seated comfortably ill bis Adel Studio. His collectio11 of pai11t-by-11umbers ador11 t/,e walls. Above left: Steve's Helicopter was created with ll 706 l11ter11atio11al tractot· cab, " baske tbllll /Joop tmd " Westi11ghousefa11 inside. Moose antlers grace thefro11t and a cream separator makes up t/Jefro11t turbo which is powered by three ca11oe paddles. Above right: Made more simply, Steve's Birdie is fasbio11ed from golf drivers a11dforks.

top 111 10 photos cou rtesy<~{ Steue Gerberich, bo/1 0111 pboto by I leather Biggar George thefishe,.ma11 was desig11ed as a memorialfo,. 011e of Steve'sf,.ie11ds, 110w deceased. The sc11lpt11,.e sporti11g wade,.s, a camera a11d fisbi11g lures fishes the ba11ks of the Raccoo11 Ri11er. The sculpture was displayed Ibis past wi11ter a11d sp,.i11g at Baltimore's 11ew childre11's museum, Port Disco11ery.

hung Steve's collectio n of paint-by-numbers: dren's museum ca lled Port Discove,y. Now ho rses, seascapes, Euro pea n cottages, Th e Last finished and displayed (a t publishing time), Supper and a variety of birds and animals - George, at the time, looked more like w hat truly unusual collectibles. the fl ying mo nkeys did to the sca recrow in Moving thro ugh the side door, I fol­ the lflizctrd of Oz . low cl Steve into his studio w hich houses George was crea ted as a memo rial to shelf upo n shelf of more things. This is not one o f Steve's closest friends, George Haupt, junk. And, although several articles are writ­ \Vho a few yea rs ago took his life, an appar­ ten abo ut his unique way with junk - o ne ent victim of manic depress io n. "He was one author ca lling it "animated junk" - Steve is o f my close, close art friends," Steve reca lled. ve,y sensitive about the word. 'Tm rea lly "We went to school together. And he knew defensive about using the J word,'' he said, me so w ell. I could bounce ideas off of him. and then emphasized the word by spelling it H e was just brilliant. He was manic-depres­ o ut: "J-u-n-k. " Acknowleding former inter­ sive and he left the ea rth ea rl y by choice." viewers liberal use of junk in reference to his Steve encouraged George to spend time at his w o rk, Steve commented, "They love to [use Adel studio and smiled as he remembered ju nkl, but objects that I use are clea rly over­ how George would leave little treasures look eel common objects." around the place. "I still won't find eve,y­ In the center o f the studio, on a lo ng thing that he's left me, secretive, clever o ut­ work-table, laid George, a yet-to-he finished door installations. So this is a memorial to project for his exhibit at Baltimo re's new chil- him."

photo co111·tes_) ' of Slel'e Gerbericb George was install ed at Port "She enj oyed her childre n. She must have Discovery as a hands-on work. By turning a just cleaned up after them. There was no sti ­ meat grinder cra nk, a child could set in flin g creativity. " motion a series of movements - pulleys and According to Rya n, the Gerberi ch gears turning - eventuall y reaching George's home was atypicall y non-sexist in the very arm, who then cast the fishing lure. The lure sexist early 60s. When Ryan's daughter, was also hooked to a bunch of fish with fl ap­ Deanna, was about three or four, the same ping mouths and wagging tails - "all being age as Steve, she received a Budding Beauty produced by one crank," said Steve. Vanity fo r Christmas. It consisted of a child­ sized vanity with mirror and stool, complete ****** with jewel1y and makeup. When Steve saw it, he wanted one, too. He received one for Steve Gerberich, who grew up just his birthday in the spring and gave the make­ outside Waukee, also lived in Des Moines for up and jewelry to Deanna. Rya n remem­ a few years when he was very young. bered that he liked having a special place to Former neighbor Wenda Ryan remembered comb his hair - "he liked to sit down and the Gerberich household - in particular Betty groom." Rose, his mother - as a home that encour­ Steve's chosen ca reer as a mechanical aged creativity. sculptor didn't surprise Rya n. "lt shows what "She had th e most marvelous laugh," can happen when parents don't place limits," Rya n recall ed, "and was the most uncondi­ she said. She then referred to his use of the tionally loving person that there was. She commonly worn Red Ball Jets sneakers, that encouraged the creativity. It was a really cool Steve "shoed" his Fly ing Reindeer with and environment. The boys [Steve and his broth­ exhibited a few years ago at the Kaleido­ er, Tim] were wall colorers. " Ryan noted that scope. "The kids in the 50s and 60s wore most children color on wall s from time to Red Bal/jets shoes, so they could 'run their time, but Betty Rose allowed them to do so. fastest and jump their highest,"' she sa id quot-

In. 1997, The Des Moi11es Art Ce11ter hosted The Gerberich Grand Orchestra, a diverse group of "musicia11s" playi11g i11strume11ts led by a "co11ductor." Next page, a look at the musicians clockwise from upper left: Kettlebeads play tbe harp, guitar, accordia.t~ saxopho11e, violi11 a11d electric guitar. The co11ductor is ill tbe ce11te1:

pboto courtesy q/ St eve Gerberich photos co 11 rtesy o/ Steue Gerberich ing the Red Ball j ets slogan ... a good choice in footwear for reindeer. • ••••• Tim, Steve's older brother, according to Rya n, was the neighborhood orga ni ze r. Steve began his ca reer as an artist He planned fun things to do - like the ga me in coll ege and decided to make a go of it pirate ship. "He incorporated all ages of in New York, where he has li ved for the kids in the neighborhood in the play," she past 14 years. Afte r earning his Bachelor of said . Fine Arts Degree at the Uni versity of Steve ido li zed his brother while Northern Iowa, he and a fri end decided to growing up and credits Tim as the moti va­ move to the major city where they felt they ti on be hind his work as an artist. had the greatest opportunity. They settled "He was my inspiration," sa id Steve on New York , sa id Steve, because "it is the emphati ca ll y. I went through that whole art hub of the world . I had my BFA, and, if older brother syndrome, where I was always I could exist or survive there fo r a year, I'd his assistant and he was always coming up consider it my graduate school - just go to with these creative things to do - as a kid, as many gall eries and t1y and meet as many as a teenager, as a coll ege kid. He was artists as possibl e and just enj oy the cultural always th e blatantl y spontaneous one of the di versity ." fa mil y. I was always behind him, always He survived those first few years enjoying be ing with him ." mainly by doing odd jobs, such as plumbing Tragically, Tim suffered a seri ous or painting, even photo assisting and manag­ head inju1y in a traffi c accid ent, leaving him ing Metropolitan Home Magaz ine's photo severely physica ll y impaired. "The accident stu dio. Then he got a job cleaning out an was 18 years ago," Steve remembered. "It old printing company so it coul d be sold. was an incredibly severe head inju1y and he There he uncovered a board ed-up di splay was in intensive ca re fo r months, and in the window. "I cleaned it up," sa id Steve, "and hospital fo r a year and a half. It was so asked the owner of the building and the severe, so much brain ti ssue was removed - supervisor on the job if I could do an instal­ almost half of his brain was removed. I lati on in it. They agreed and I slowly creat- couldn't even say th at for years. " Tim, however, remains Steve's inspira­ ti on. "He ca n do some amazing stuff. He does left-handed dra wings since he had to switch eve1y thing over from his right to his left hand and side." Steve's cl ad is also a help and inspira­ tion "He helps me design things. I built a 30-foot Christmas tree last year. I don't have patience fo r doing these intricate drawings, so he helped me design this tree and did the clra w­ ings fo r it. I can always High school art st11de11ts ;,, lt1dia11ola, Iowa, 1111der the tutelllge of Steve, crecll­ call on him fo r advice - ed this Vacuumasaurus. Tbe st11de11ts' i11str11ctor, Bob Klit1g, who is " long time electri cal and sometimes f.-ie11d of Steve's, noted tin maki11g oftbe s culpture wt1s ajoir,t effort. Not 011/y did Steve i11str11ct the st11det1ts ;,, the desig11, the s/11de11ts were t1ble to it1str11ct mechanica l. " him 011 the llrl of weldi11g. "He tvllS ll great guy lo work wit/J," Sllid Klit1g.

pholo co 11 rle.,y of S/eue Gerbericb * * * ***

Steve Gerberich has a great zest fo r life, involving himself in many activities o ut­ side of his work as an artist. He loves to roller bl ade in Central Park in New York - "There are millions of people circulating throughout the park . It has gotten such a bad ra p. But I've never had a problem." And also, here, in Iowa, he spends time on the bike trails by Dallas County. "I think that's such a sa lvati on fo r me. It's good exercise and my tho ught processes are very freed up and open. I can reall y resolve things while I'm on those trails. " Tennis and golf are also among his interests. On one occasion Steve was a guest in ed this environment that was call ed Th e Great my home. This time I glimpsed yet another White Hunter, which was kind of an anti-hunt­ side to his personality - namely his ing theme. I took all these hunters pointing unabashed curiosity. Once inside my home at some little deer - they were plastic fi gures, he became the interviewer, passing through little pl asti c buffalo and trophies with hunters in the shooting position. That was the first window I had cl one. It was a breakthrough. " Install ati ons have been Steve's passion since coll ege. While at UNI, he constructed an insta ll ati on in an o ld closet. "I set up little e nviro nments in windows that were typicall y display cases fo r ceramics or 3-D media. I'd turn them into these insta ll ati ons, setting up objects that I'd been coll ecting fo r years, and telling little stori es with them as well. " The public has sustained Gerbe ri ch's fervor for these constructi o ns. "I love public sculpture. Doing a window is so accessible. The hours of a window exhi bition can run all night if I want. It does not discriminate. You don't have to go inside some pretentious gall ery or 'impo rtant' museum to see it. Anyone off the street o r driving by can experi ence it. That's why I love the window fo rmat. " Currently, Steve's New York studio is located in an old shoe fac tory in Brooklyn, where he has 1600 square feet to house even more stuff and to create sculptures. In Manhattan, he has also insta lled displays fo r Bloomingclale 's, Grand Central Station, and Broadway and Madison Avenue windows. Looki11g much like a mela11cbofy pig, Ibis dog was com­ missio11ed by a ma11 i11 bo1tor of his dog, Li1lgui11i. Tbe Vario us other works have been displayed or b ead goes back a11d fortb by a crat1k whicb is part of a permanently install ed in other cities around pea1111t 1·oastit1g machi11e . His muzzle is a wick bolder the country as well as in Europe. from a kerose11e lamp. Above left: The French Poodle. Though this piece looks very 1111like a real Fre11ch poodle, look closely at the tiny replica of the Eiffel Tower 011 the collar arou11d the pooch's 11eck.

photos cuu rtesy o_/ Steve Gerberich eve1y room in my house, examining all that I owned, asking questions about eve1y dis­ played picture, every displayed object - even my kitchen cupboards did not go unnoti ced - seemingly more interested in the interview­ er than I in the intervi ewee. Not nosey, either, but ca ring - about people. And Steve's great fascinati on about people and who they are, takes his "Gerb-o-matic" cre­ ati ons into a dimension beyond gears and pulleys and tea kettles. He breathes li fe into them.

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pholos co11r/es)I ofSteue Gerberich, signature by Steve Gerberich OFFICE GOSSIP - Conn ie Small

Precocious Pen whispered to Dull Desk of their type-A tycoon who warped beyond overdrive as he chanted a mission statement, beat paper with scissors then stone, gnawed off Bookshelf's corners, announced tastes like chicken, marched to the men's room where he saluted Colonel Urinal. Overachieving idiot waltzed to the thirteenth hole, genuflected at Golf Cart, drove it onto the middle of rush hour, and has not been seen since.

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ink sllj;ple by Toby Cu nningham J •• ,,,. -- ' ••• •.... J. : ·,

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, / } \ · WINTER ,.:, , , .. . ·callee~ L~6ker.(Rljnner-up bestpo.em of DMACC c~eq,tive writing co rt,test . p; • . ..~ ...... _..,.··· :-. t-· ...... ,,. .. :· .. The intric\ tte wt;avings of thet tree's long, spindly fingers. ·"'. t'.eac,l;} towards_, the"$ky. f." :, ""'i ~ i[lite blarik~t of silence. covers:5he world . ·' • ;,..;:•J:'he'• sheet of silver· river is calm . . , ,, } .Th e faim_c 1y of a bird pierces the stillness. I stand alq_ne in ·my wint~r. ,.,..,., ' / .:;~ •t ' ,:. "~ ~--~J!..Cac.~ --. i11/ag lio /Jri/11 I~)' Teri TemfJleto n dven ure a story by S. T. marker illustrations by Scott Irwin

It had been nearl y three years since the morning. Today was the clay, the clay she had tragedy, but Marty Langlade was still haunted by waited nearly a month for, the clay that she felt nightmares. To this day, he wondered why he had would never get here, a clay more exciting and been a ll owed to live and so many others had been anticipated than her fifth birthday last week. chosen to die. As he sat up and ran a hand Today, this very clay, July 17, 1915, Janelle through his unruly hair, screams permeated his was going to be part of the group that eve1yone head. He put his hands over his ears, but to no wanted to be in, the gang, the chosen few who avail; these were the screams of the innocent as had waited in breathless anticipation for the ir they died, the screams that haunted him more and names to come up. Today, she would find the more with each passing day. Holy Grail of childhood, the ultimate gratification, Glancing about his modest apartment, he the it's-all-downhill-from-here state that her Daddy focused on the articles, clippings and artists' ren­ talked about when he'd made all that money. derings of the night three years previous. In his Today was the day that Janelle was going mind, the screaming swell ed. He prayed for for­ on a journey being led by none other than Mr. giveness fo r having survived. He prayed for for­ Adventure Marty, a man more famous than Santa giveness for his sins. He prayed for the screaming Claus and the Easter Bunny combined in the town to stop. of Massena , New Yo rk . From what she had heard , Today, of all days, Marty had to be able to no child had ever returned unhappy, and all keep his appointment - the same appointment claimed to have taken an incredible journey of he'd kept eve1y Saturday for the past three months. imagination because Adventure Marty told great Work could be missed, but his Saturday appoint­ stories whil e on these walks and had a different me nts were an entirely different matter. He could way of looking at things. no more miss a Saturday appointment than pull his All kinds of funny rumors were spread teeth. about Adventure Marty. Janell e had heard her "All right, Adventure Marty," he muttered Mommy once say that Adventure Marty was really softly , using the nickname given to him by the an angel from heaven, and that he took children to children, "up and at 'em. Saturday is Adventure heaven through a secret door that only angels and Day, and you have a new band of kids just waiting saints could see. Janelle hoped it was true, to take the tour." because then she would get to meet her Grandpa, Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, "Big Papa" Opus. He died a few years ago when he slowly rose. With a yawn, he wa lked toward a boat he was on sank, and Janell e hardly remem­ the bathroom to shave the night's accumulation of bered him. whiskers. "Janelle!" called her mothe r. "Are you almost ready?" "Yes, Momma! I just want to bring Raggedy Ann with me! " * * * * * "Okay, but hurry1 We have to be at Cli ve's General Store in ten minutes1" 'Tm hunying!" Little Janelle was ecstatic, if ever a word Janelle grabbed her favorite doll, the one was sufficient to describe the elation she felt that she'd had since she could remember and declared, It's almost like a miracle." Ma1ty pulled out his money and began to count it out. "Not a miracle, Clive. I just show them the world in a slightly different way. I guess they're left a little awestruck. To them, it's li ke they discover a world they've never seen before." After paying and receiving his change, Marty nodded back, sat on the edge of the porch and began to fill his canteen with apple cider. "Good morning, Jebecliah," said Cli ve to a burly man entering the store. "I didn't expect to see you this early in the morning. Why, it's "I wouldn't miss this fo r all the birthdays in the not even . .. " Clive glanced at his pocket world. C'mon, Annie, we gotta go!" watch. "It's not even 8:30 and here you are. I Raggedy Ann just kept smiling, her but­ tho ught you'd sleep in today so you could get ton eyes staring blankly into space. ready for church tomorrow." "Morning, Cli ve. I wasn't expecting to get up this earl y either, but the missus told me that I had to bring Luke here to go with that * * * * * Marty fella. " "You mean Adventure Marty? You just walked past him on your way in." Marty walked up to the counter, laying Jebediah glanced back at Marty, who his usual provisions out to be tallied. Clive was nibbling at the dried beef and ta lking to grinned and said hell o. Marty smiled back. Luke. Luke was absorbed in the conversati on "Out fo r another adventure today, Mr. already. Jebediah swell ed with pride. Only ten Langlade?" years old , and big fo r his age, and smart. Luke "Yes , sir, Cli ve. I've got my dried beef, could match wits with just about any man. His some apple cider and some horehound candy mother kept saying he'd be a lawyer someday, fo r the children who behave. I'm ready to and Jebecliah saw no shame in having an edu­ inspire young minds - maybe make the next cated man in the fa mily. Abraham Lincoln. " Turning back to Clive, he asked, "Where Clive began to ring up the purchases. does he take them, anyway? And what does he "It's a good thing you're doing, Marty. do to those kids?" think they should erect a statue in your hono r. "Marty's a little sparse on the details. Before you came to town, most of these kids can't imagine why, but he cla ims that no one spent their free time stirring up trouble. They'd should ever take the path without him along. been out shooting windows with slingshots and They start by climbing that big hill where the whooping and yelling and screaming, 'The mines used to be, along the path that goes up Injuns is coming! The Injuns is coming'' cl own the side. Then they cross the big open fi eld, go at the old vacant lot and scaring the life half out into the woods, and fo ll ow a trail into the of Old Man Jenson, unhitching buggies and slap­ woods until they hit the West Racket River. ping the horses." After that, they do an about face and head for Clive chuckled. home. I've never seen him return any time "Ah, youth. We've had our fair share of before fiv e in the afternoon, so I iinagine he little rascals here in town. Made me wish they'd makes certain to take breaks along the way. build a park or a li brary or finish building that When the kids get back, they're so tired they go new school, Twin Rivers. But since you started straight to bed and fall asleep. By the next clay, Adventure Day tours, things are a lot quieter. the children seem to have a greater curiosity abo ut the worl d and are more eager than ever inside it,a nd let the water rise, all the while to learn ." reciting the Lord 's Prayer over and over aga in. " Jebediah was happy about the last "I take it his boat worked." part, but still a littl e apprehensive. "Oh yeah. He was fo und by the res­ "Has ... uh . . . anything ever hap­ cue ship, and they say as soon as he was pened to any of the kids"' pulled on board , the dinghy broke apart. It "Jeb, I ca n assure you that nothing bad was by the grace of God th at he's ali ve today. " is going to happen to Luke. If you're worried, "So that's why everyone thinks he's an though, you can make him stay home. Ma rty angel. " will unde rstand. I remember the first time he "Maybe," sa id Cli ve, "or maybe it's did this, onl y a few peopl e would trust their something he shows them in the woods." children with him. But when those three kids came home, grinning like the cat that ate the cana1y . * * * • * Outside, the te n children who had been chosen fo r this week's adventure were assembling into a line behind Marty, with Luke Several hours later, they had reached in the lead and Janell e bringing up the rear, the woods. Ma rty was in the midst of telling clutching her prized doll in her left hand. the children about how they were bears, lurk­ They began to wa lk toward the old mine. ing though the woods looking fo r honey, when After they left, Jeb had a few more suddenly he paused. They had arri ved at a q uesti ons. large clearing, which fo rmed an almost perfect "What's the story on Marty, anyway? circle. Up until a few months ago I'd never heard of "This is it, kids." him. But his name rings a bell. " He turned his back and sighed. This Cli ve ru bbed his chin,thinking. was the part of the cl ay he hated, dreaded, "That's the funny part. The way I feared the most. heard it , from Ma rty himself, it doesn't reall y "But a deal's a deal," he whispered. make sense, like something o ut of a science He remembered wa lking these same ficti on sto1y. But at the same time, it makes absolute perfect sense. Do you remember the ship that Big Papa Opus was on, the Tita ni c?" "Yea h, got ripped open by an iceberg from what r heard. " "On her maiden voyage. Tragic. Anyway, from what he told me, Marty was on that ship too. The part that doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me is how he surv ived. Now, you'd expect that he was one of the lu cky people who made it to the lifeboats. But what Ma rty told me was that he was giving this demonstra ti on on the uses of balsa wood." Jebecli ah frowned . "It's this real thin wood, almost as thin as paper. Marty cl aims that if you build some­ woods three months ago, stumbling onto this thing ri ght with it, it's stronger than any pine or secret place, the place where the children now oak you can buy. To prove it would work , he stood in breathless anti cipation, waiting fo r the said he'd build a dinghy out of it and set it great secret to be revealed. He remembered afl oat in a fo untain . A few hours later, when the barga in he had made, c1y ing and pleading they were yell ing, 'Ma n the life boats! Women fo r his life to be spared. and children fi rs t! ' he ran back to his room, With tea rs welling up in his eyes, grabbed the dinghy, lay clown on the deck Marty turned to face the children and said , 'Tm sorry, kids. I wish it didn't have to be this way." Luke, who'd been leading the group suddenly became suspicious. When the bush­ es around them began to rustle, Marty swore the boy knew everything - why he'd led them here, why he was sony , why he never took the same child on this adventure more than once. Marty forced himself to watch the moment of dawning horror on every face as the tro ll s appeared, their razor-sharp teeth bared, their long claws readied . He wrenched his gaze from the childen's fear-filled faces to look into the yellowed, soul-less eyes of the head troll , now emerging from the shadows of the bushes. A brief acknowledgement passed between them and the troll paused briefl y in anticipati on as he stared at Marty. Then, Marty, almost imperceptively, nodded his assent. In unison, the trolls sprang from the brush and fe ll upon the children. He fo rced himself to watch th e chil­ dren being devoured, listening to their screams of pain and horror. He fo rced himself to watch as the trolls began to transform into the exact likeness of the children, starting with Luke and ending with Jane ll e. He knew that these screams would soon join those that had haunted him eve1y morning for the past three months. When the troll -Janell e picked up the forgotten doll , it was time to go. Ad venture Marty began to lead the new recruits toward the river, continuing his spiel about bears and honeycombs, knowing next week would bring another appointment. And Adventure Marty never missed an appointment.

/ SLEEPING WITH WALT A VILIANELLE - Connie Sma ll

I took a bath by candlelight, ate chocolate cheesecake and watched the weather, then fe ll asleep with Walter Cronkite.

Woke up to sun at her full height, ignored the message from my mother, again I bathed by candlelight.

I kicked my man out with the last big fight, got no time for all his bother, I'd rather sleep with Walter Cronkite.

Bought a black dress that clung just right, one I won't be showing to my father, then took a bubble bath by candlelight . .. ,,. Drank champagn~ from day into night, listened patiently to a slurred Dan Rather, took a bubble bath with Walter Cronkite and fell asleep by candlelight.

SWEET AS THE RED SAUCE IN THE CHINESE PIACE DOWN THE STREET - Ray Weikal I Overall Best Writer of DMA CC creative writing contest

I dreamed that dark brown man in the crisp, khaki uniform Had not been swall owed by the South China Sea. I dreamed that he returned jubilant to his cracked, twisted home On Talbot street in the August Oakland of my tiny, pink existence. I dreamed that that dark, uniformed man dripped sweaty, salty odors That clashed with our incensed home of tiny dancing beads over empty doors. I dreamed that my blue-jeaned mother wore a clean, white t-shirt That embraced her damp oli ve skin made darker under late summer sunlight. I dreamed that this man, my father, and this woman, my mother, fill ed the open front door of brown and red trim, And squeezed each other tight, like long amorous anacondas. And I dreamed that Mother spilled sil ent tears tinged by Pacific winds That to Father tasted sweet as the reel sauce in the Chinese place down the street. photo by Aria11ne Robi11so11 pboto bJ1 DMACC Pboto Department Charlie by James Edward Asbille I Best sto1y of DMACC creative writing contest

Charlie Walek started working in the Kane at the age of fi ve. He was an apprentice to his fa ther who was the director of lighting. There he met Marlene Dietrich and Lionel Barrymore and other stars of stage and screen. The theater became his whole life; he spent his cl ays and nights there. When everyone else went out aft er the shows, he would stay and secure the equipment. Later, he would just sit in the catwalks, staring into the cavernous theater. Sometimes he would fa ll asleep, only to wa ke up the next morning in time to start all over again . He dropped out of school at the age of fo urteen to become a stagehand full time. He watched his fa ther obsessively, gleaning eve1ything he could about the craft and adding a few tricks of his own. Eventuall y, Charlie became the director of li ghting. He built a reputati on as a hard working perfectionist and loner. As the fo rtunes of the Kane fell and the staff dw indled, Charli e was kept on. He knew eve1y thing about the theater and didn't seem to mind working longer hours and taking on more responsibilities for the same pay. To the company, he was cost effecti ve. To Charli e, it was all he knew and all he ever want­ ed to know. Today was Charli e's birthday, though onl y he knew it. It had been 60 years of make-beli eve, 60 years of brilliant stars and not-so-brilliant stars. Sixty yea rs of up-a nd-com­ ers and 60 years of has-beens. He had seen people come and go in an endless parade, but he'd stayed on fo rever. "Charlie, you seem to be made fo r this place," his fa the r used to say. And, he was right. The years had changed his thick dark hair to a thinning band of white that encircled his head like a crown. His once sinewy muscles now held up sagging, wrinkled skin. Stooped by time, his once ta ll , muscular frame was now two inches shorter and 20 pounds lighte r. Charlie's eyes were what set him apart from the ordina1y , though. They were an intense blue, like the colored gels he put in the broad li ghts, the ones he used to simulate the sky. His stare was cold and distant, always pondering some othe1worlcl y concept of light and shadow. "Hey, Mister, you Charli e?" "Yeah." "I've been sent to see you. You're s'posecl to show me the ropes. " "Oh." Charli e went back to adjusting a stagelight. The young man extended his hand to offer a handshake . Charli e never noti ced. "My name's Robert . I was just hired fo r the summer," Robert stood awkwa rdl y fo r a moment, hand outstretched, unsure of what to do. Finall y, he put it cl own. 'Tm going to coll ege over at the University, to study communica ti ons. My teacher said there was an internship here. Doesn't pay anything, but it looks good on the resume. " Robert noticed the man paid no attention to him, but kept adjusting the light in front of hi m, never fine.ling sa ti sfacti on with the results. "What are you doing up here anyway? I was told the theater was ready fo r the next perfo rmance. " This question surpri sed Charli e and brought him back to th e mome nt. o one had ever asked what he was doing on the catwalk. He was Charli e. Why wouldn't he be here? "I work here. " "I realize th at, but doing what7 I crew who didn't mind the way his father mean, I don't know much about this job, but pushed them. It was these difficult shows it seems once the lights are aimed for a where his dad got reall y creative. His father show they pretty much just stay there." always told him you had to make the stars "Some might say th at. " look better on stage than in real life. Charlie "And what would you say?" knew instinctively how much to focus the light and how much to adjust the fix­ ture compensate for the narrowing of the beam. He breathed deeply. The smell of burning dust from the danger­ ously hot lamp was a drug for Cha rli e. "Perfect, Son, you read my mind. Now go help Tommy. He doesn't have a cl ue what I want. " Charlie and his dad understood each other all right. Charlie's mom had left them when he was five, and Charlie had gone to work with his fat her. "I just couldn't stand to lose you, too, even if it was just for a day," his father had said. Th ey were together all the time. Sometimes it was like they shared the same brain. Charlie considered the young man "That's it. Tommy, are you paying fo r what seemed a long time. He was a attention to what Charlie just did? You boys wiry, strong boy with the fresh-faced look of should listen to him. He knows what I youth. He also was ve1y intense, with dark need." penetrating eyes and hair. He reminded him Dad understood. of pictures he had seen of his father as a Charlie, like his fat her, was never young man. He was constantly fidgeting, sa ti sfied with the lights and constantly full of energy. Robert played with the keys adjusted and readjusted them. At the height in his pockets and rocked back and forth. of the Kane's success, Charlie was highly I should teach him to stand still. respected as someone who could bring the You must be steady as a rock up here. Dad best out of a perfo rmance through his skill­ was like that - always nervous. Couldn't ful choice of light. But now, no one seemed stand still to save his life. Skittish as a cat to ca re for the subtlties of stage lighting. It and always driving us hard . merely had to be lit. "Come on, Charli e! We don't have "We ll ? What gives, Old Man"" asked a ll day' I need more foc us on that pin spot! " Robert, breaking into Charlie's thoughts. Charli e's daydreams were becoming Charlie reali zed that the boy had more vivid lately. He kept reliving things in been expecting him to say something. his mind. This time it was Marlene Talking had become more difficult over the Dietrich's three-day, one-woman show and years. He just never had the ability to make Charlie couldn't wait fo r opening night. His others understand what he felt. Now only father was driving the lighting crew merci­ he and the theater shared the secret. lessly. With all the movement and tempo What can I teach him in a summer? changes on stage, the li ghting had to be Why teach him anything? He'll just go away meti culously arranged. Marlene had specific and get a job somewhere else - like all the marks to hit and he must hit them with her. others. "All ri ght, Dae.I , don't have a fit! " "It 's just that you see things - things Charli e was the only one on the you didn't see in rehearsal. You change

pboto hy DMACC Photo Depctr/111e111 things, sometimes just a little here, a little fo und meandering the streets, and they all there. Sometimes yo u redo everything. But ended up in the Victo ri an splencler of the when it's just ri ght, you know. " Kane. First his father, then Charlie himself, For Robert, an awkward silence wo uld li ght the great plays, working with his hung in the stagnant, dusty air. Stillness crew , watching the actors, walking the cat­ enveloped the space just below the va ulted walk. Charlie thought he would paint the ceiling. But sil ence was what Charlie loved lights on the stage fo rever. He didn't know - the lack of motio n. It was calculable to how many times he had walked those cat­ him, understandable, concrete. He just sat walks or aimed those lights or swept the there looking at the stage, lit only by the fl oors or watched the shows. It had been a houselights. They were yell ow and weak. lifetime. The stage carried no magic now. Only Fo rever. when the full power of thousands of foot­ Charlie had lit a great deal of cancUes of li ght illuminated th e stage was it fa mous plays, A Streetcar Named Desire, Tb e possible fo r mere human beings to skim and Class Menagerie, even Death of a Salesman. dance across the fl oor and weave their spe ll No one knew the true skill of his craft ; on an unsuspecting audience. Charli e had Charlie never blew his own horn and he always believed th at the fin al magic to a per­ always kept to himself. fo rmance came mysti ca ll y fl owing out of the There was that o nce, tho ugh. She barrell -snouted li ghts that he hung endlessly. knew what it meant. Dael ca ll ed it the sorcerer's wand. Charlie lit a short-lived run of Sunset "Well?" Boulevard, with Gloria Swanson reprising "We ll what?" her screen role. He worked diligently to get "Yo u know what. " her lighting just right. He remembered her It hadn't occurred to Charlie that he had been vague. He knew what he meant, but when he talked it never ca me o ut the way he intended it. It was so clear to him, but what should he say to this young man? "Yo u know," he began, "you know that you have clone it right and everything looks the way it should, and you, uh, just know ." Robert chuckl ed to himself, looking cl own into the theater and shook his head. "Let me guess. Yo u've been up here a long time?" Charlie nodded, "Yes, a long time. " great performances years before with his Fo rever. father's lights, and now it was his chance. Charlie had been young once, like He struggled during rehearsals to capture the this boy. Now he was old , though not madness of Nora Desmond, to accentuate decrepit or infirm, just old . Like the Kane, her character visuall y, to bring o ut the he had his peak during the 1940s and 1950s. genius in Miss Swanson's already brilliant The Kane sat prominantly displayed in the performance. After the closing night's show, Lower District of the city. The weathy elite Charlie was finishing up when he heard a spent their evenings in joyous pursuit of husky woman's voice below him. pleasure here. Presidents, kings and all "Where is he? I must see him, I te ll manner of internati onal dignitaries could be you! "

photo by Amy Jo Cla rk "He's probably on the catwalks, Miss She knows! Swanson. We never see him after a perfor­ "Young man, you are even better mance. He's an oddball. Please, Miss than your father; you brought out the true Swanson, there are some reporters from the Norma Desmond. I absolutely had to th ank loca l papers who want to talk to you. " you myself. Make that awful littl e man you "Not until! I see the man who did work for give you a raise. Te ll him Gloria my lighting!" said you should be paid a king's ransom! " From above, Charlie looked straight She was waving her hands about, clown on the aging star. He was crushed . pulling in the whole world to witness He must have clone something wrong, Charlie's triumph. Then she kissed him on missed something. Why else wo uld she the cheek, spun aro und and left in a whirl , want to see him? Miss Swanson was so leaving only the scent of sweet lilac perfume demanding during rehearsals. He had used and the tingle of a kiss that would remain in every li ght in the ho use and pulled every his memo1y as the sprinkling of fairy dust o n trick he knew, digging deep inside to find an earthly creature. He would never be the just the right touches. same again . I thought I had it right. They f elt She really understood. right. Charlie came back to the present Charlie climbed cl own. This was the again. Gloria Swanson, after all. He would not "Well , Robert, I guess we can start hide in the catwalks fro m he r. She saw him by looking around." coming cl own the ladder and he started over Cha rli e showed Robert th e catwalk to the landing. She glided more than system, the fader packs, th e fader board , th e walked, with the grace of a great li o ness. dressing rooms, backstage and below stage. She held her trademark diamond-studded He showed the boy eve1y thing, but told him cigarette ho ld er and sti ll wore th e sequined nothing about the grandeur that had been. close-fitting hat she'd worn that night on Or the decline. He didn't ta lk about the toll stage. She had slipped into a silk , fur­ time had taken o n him and the Kane. That trimmed bathrobe, but had not removed her meant nothing to this boy. stage makeup. She was stunning and radi­ He doesn't want to hear about the ant - a star. past; he's all hormones and excitement. As she neared him, her eyes bored They finally e nded up in the old into his, seemingly to discover something in projection booth. The Kane had once shown him, some memory. Suddenly, her fa ce lit movies here, mostl y Busby Berkely dance up. extravaganzas and the like. The screen "Are you Charlie Walek?" would lower from the ceiling and cover up "Yes, Miss Swanson." the stage area. When it bro ke cl own in the "My god, young man, I didn't know 60s, the owners decided that revenues were it was you! I remember your father. He was too low to justify repl acing it. Charli e had a master, like Mi chelangelo'" set up a table, a couple of chairs and an o ld "Yes, he was, Miss Swanson." sofa that served as a bed on more th an a Charli e was having trouble looking few long nights. He also liked it because he her in the eyes, feeling sure the next could look out on the Kane, maintaining the moment would spe ll doom. solitude that he had o n the catwalk. Robert ·'These pipsqueaks call me 'Miss once again broke his reveri e. Swanson.' Yo u may ca ll me Gloria . You "So what cl 'ya think of the news?' ha ve your father's touch, young man. Your "What news?" lights so caressed my face tonight. I simply "Charlie, don't you ta lk to anybody? fl oated o n them. Such an inspirati o n!" Yo u are aware that this whole district is Charlie raised his head and stared into her being rennovated, do n't you?" powerful eyes. "What do you mean?'' jJh oto hy DMACC Photo Department "T1y looking around when you sadness inside. He could never be restored. come to work. This area is going to be A coat of paint would not cover his sagging turned into a hot spot. Warehouses are going fl esh, nor would new upholstery repl ace his to be made into lofts and clubs. Pretty soon gray ha ir. No new woodwork could fi x his money will start flowing in here again. I've arthritic back. The Kane would be remade. seen it in other areas. There's talk about It was immortal. He was not. Suddenly, he making this a tourist trap as well. But most thought of his father. The Kane had swal­ important of all , to you anyway, some big lowed him up and now Charlie wondered if company is going to buy this place." it would happen to him, too. "The Kane?" Why'd ya leave me, Dad? It would Again. have been so simple to stay with me. This had happened many times in He remembered it was late and he the past, each time at a lower price to anoth­ was helping his clad clean up the catwalk er company, promising to bring back the old after the run of some play. Kane. Each time cutbacks were announced Funny, I can't remember what play. and people lost their jobs. But now, surely They had to take a rather large klieg light clown off the grid. It was easier to do it right then so they wouldn't have to wony about it in the morning. They had hung it farther out - more than usual - in order to get a special effect, and had not been able to get a sa fety chain around it. Charlie's father was even more jittery than normal. "These lights are expensive, and they are the mainstay of o ur arsenal. We need to make sure we get it in so nothing happens to it. " "Be careful. That thing weighs a ton." The light was dim and the smell of tobacco and alcohol had mixed with the no one could lose their jobs; there were dust to create a noxious odor. It was one o f barely enough people to run it now. the few smells in the theater that Charlie Maybe they would remake the Kane. detested . The grid was creaking angrily as "Yeah, the boss told me. He said they pulled the light. this company was looking for an investment "It isn't loose enough, I'll have to in entertainment down here, that this was release it completely." going to become a boom town and they As the bolt was unscrewed , the wanted in on it. He said they would keep movement of the grid started to swing the him on to run the place and oversee renova­ light. Charlie looked out. The grid was tions. He's even ta lking about a computer­ swinging one way and the light the other, controlled system. It sounded pretty cool. giving the impression of a ship swaying at Maybe they'll even fix up the projection sys­ sea. His father, misjudging the weight of the tem and show movies again." light and how much he was reaching, pulled Charlie got up and looked out of the it off the moving grid, fearful that it might projection window at the old theater, which fall any second. The grid niacle a ringing had seen better days. The seats were worn, sound as the clap slid off and Charlie's the stage sagged in the middle and the walls father said only, "oofl" He and the light were faded and dirty. Age had clone its spun downward to the floor below in the damage. He thought about the place being low, yellow glow of the houselights. Charlie restored to its original grandeur and knew watched helplessly. They appeared to dance he should be happy, but he felt a growing in the air, pirouetting towards the floor. He

photo by Arianne Robinson fe lt a strange sensa tion and for a moment it was covered w ith dust and sweat, looking seemed he was looking up and his fa ther mo re like a mec hanic than a lighting hand. and the light w ere rising in the air, the o nly "Robert' I w ant to talk to you. no ise the ringing o f the grid, like sirens ca ll­ Come over here." ing his fa ther away. Charlie waved the boy over to a CRASH ! His world, along w ith his couple of sea ts behind the contro l board. fa ther and the glass lens of the klieg, shat­ His fa ther always gathered him there for tered in a dea fening cacopho ny. His father their serio us talks. lay o n the floor, arms o utstretched, sur­ "I got everything in positio n. We rounded by millions of glea ming, sparkling ca n go over the focusing any time you stars. And the silence returned. ,va nt." I.fyou had only let go. "Good. Take a brea k . I want to Charlie reali zed he w as ignoring ta lk to yo u for a minute. I've bee n watching Robert again and turned aro und to look at how well you've been do ing. You lea rn the boy. He actually seems to be quite q uick ly and look rea l comfortable up top .. , patient w ith me. "I am . It's rea lly nice up there - "When does the new company take free like. o o ne tells me w hat to cl o or over' " w here to go. Except you, of cours ." "D on't know. The bos sa id they've Charlie thought he saw a blush cross been inspecting the building to get an Robert's cheeks. appra isa l, and w hen that's clone, they ca n '·J understand and that's w hat I want get a time frame for the repairs. " to talk to you about. I'd like you to become That made Charlie nervous. He did­ my apprentice. You could lea rn my trade n't trust new owners. After all these yea rs, and when I retire I'll know that someone is money had never cl one right by the Kane. taking ca re of things here - someone w ho The next week, walking on the ca t­ rea lly ca res. These lights are my brushes , walk, he sensed an uneasiness surround the stage m y ca nvas . I'd like to think some­ him. Something was disturbing the timeless­ one I ca n tru st w ill take over for me. " ness of the air. When the lights w ere low, Robert was becoming visibly uncom­ Charlie usually saw the Ka ne as it had been, fortable. He shifted his weight from side to but now it felt old and tired, just like him. side, crossing his legs o ne way and th en the As the cl ays w ore on, though, his tensio n other, eyes ra rely meeting Charlie's. W hen eased . Robert was coming along well. H e they did, Robert looked q uickly to the fl oor paid attention and lea rned quickly. He had for refuge. even stopped ca lling Charlie, "O ld Man ." " It's just that l 've grown fond of you Perhaps he's the one - somebody to in these last few weeks. I think you ca n be pass my knowledge to. grea t - beuer than me even. You'd like that, He had always been aware that wouldn't you' " w itho ut a son o r an apprentice his craft Noticing Robert's discom fort, would die w ith him. He had often fa nta­ Charlie's confidence fa iled and he fe ll silent. sized about having a boy to teach his skill Maybe I'm emba rrassi ng him , Charlie to ld to, but he knew it was just a fa ntasy. ow himself, but he just w asn't sure. there w as ho pe. Robert p layed around on "I've grown fond of you, too, the ca twalk like a mo nkey, do ing things that Charl ie. You've been good to me, better Charlie hadn't cl one in yea rs. His youthful than my own cl ad ever was. Ancl l like energy, steely strength and unabashed daring do ing lighting. It's a blast. But, I've gotta made him perfect to lea rn his craft. think of my future and there just doesn't That's it, then . I'll talk to him about seem to be one here.'' lea rning my trade. There it was. What he hacl fea red Robert was just coming cl own from was true. There would be no successor. rehanging some fill lighting, as Charlie made "You've got to know that you're the up his mind about the apprenticeship. H e last of a breed, Charlie. Besides, no one appreciates what you do up there. When "Something about the new owners, you're gone, they'll hire somebody at mini­ I'll bet. Come on. We'll never know hang­ mum wage and trea t 'em like dirt. There's ing around up here." no future here for anybody but you. " And Charlie w as afra id; he couldn't maybe not f or you eithe,~ Charlie, Robert move, emotions spinning out of control. An couldn't help thinking. inky blackness flowed fro m his precious Charlie had considered this many lights, swallowing him who le. He was los­ times, hut it cut thro ugh him like broken ing himself. glass to hea r it from this boy he had grown I'm fa lling. to admire. "It's over, you know. It's all over. "I'm sorry if I'm hurting you. They won't fix the Kane. They'll tear it know what working here mea ns to you. clown and put up a movie theater - one of You are a master at what you do . It's just those multi-screen places. O r maybe they'll that the worl d sto pped ca ring a long time build a mall for people to spend lots of ago. " money on junk that has no mea ning. Or Charlie's head spun in a w hirlpool maybe it will just become a parking lot for of sa dness and do ubt. What was happening' all the other trash that w ill be here. But Everything was unraveling. Thick air none of it w ill be wondro us; none of it w ill seemed to surround him, heavy, suffocating. be mysterious." He looked up at Robert bent close to Charlie. Robert. "Yo u go ahea d Goel , he looks so much like ho me. I'll finish up tonight. " Dad! "That's all right. "Charlie, ca lm cl own. Let's do it together. " What's the matter'" "No, you're right. Charlie was nea r panic now, There's no future here for his hea rt was bea ting too you . Go home and be with hard, blood coursing danger­ your friends. I'd like to do o usly through his entire the rest myself, anyway. It body. helps me figure things out. " "You just don't understand! '"You sure? " No one understa nds! " "Yeah. " He looked Charlie felt closed in, no at Robert again. "Yea h. I 'm longer feeling his body or sure. " having a se nse of what was That night Charlie up o r cl own. The air boiled slept on the catwalk aga in. around him. Then he saw He had troubling d reams of crumbling ca t­ the stage. Macbeth was being performed, o r walks and falling lights. His father was maybe it was Othello. H e wasn't sure. fa lling aga in, and this time Charlie went w ith Bany more was there. And Gloria. And him. Just before hitting the floor, he w o ke Marlene. They w ere all there, all the grea ts up. H e felt the building closing in on him, who had graced the stage in the heyday of cutting off his oxygen. Suddenly, Robert's the Kane. Charlie rose over the railing and voice startled Charlie into wakefulness, but fl oated clown to the stage on a bea m of blue he still fl oa ted drea m-like somewhere else. light. Eve1yone w elcomed him w ith chee rs "Charlie, wake up' There's a meet­ and hugs. ing downstairs! " "Good old Charlie. We couldn't '" Dad11 " have clone it without you1" It was wonderful Ro bert was climbing up the ladder to see them all aga in. Charlie cried at see ing to the ca twalk. Conce rn for Charlie the Kane in all its glo1y - extravaga nt, bold, crevassed his face, making him look o lder polished - like the clay it opened! than his 20 yea rs. Robert had only known the old man

photo by Aria1111e Robinson for a couple of months, but by his behavior, it was obvious that something was wrong. He was pale and pasty, slurring his speech and shaking badly. Robert reached out to him. Too late, Charlie crumpled from the couch to the fl oor. By the time the para­ medics arrived, Charlie was gone. Hello, my .friend, so good to see you looking so well. Charlie whirled around and there stood Dad. "Sbe's a beauty isn '/ she, Son?'' "Dad, you 're here/ I've missed you so much. " ''And I've missed you, too, Son. I've waited .for you all these years .., "I've been wanting to ask you some­ tb ing, Dad." ·'Shoot, Son, no secrets between you and me. You always understood every­ tbing. " "Well, it 's just that . .. " Cbarlie searched .for the words, but didn '/ find them until be stepped into the ligbt qf !be kliegs. "Wby didn ·t you let go of that ligbt?" "Funny thing, I just never could let go of anything I loved." "Yeab . .... I understand." Soon after, it was announced that renovating the Kane would be costly and unjustified. The new company would gut the building and use it as the shell for a shopping cente r. Robert stayed on until the theater closed . Occasionally, he thought he felt the presence of the old man as he wa lked the catwalks and manned the light board. The place was soon emptied, void of life, like a giant mausoleum. When the renovati on crews began working, Robert retrieved some of the bricks from the orches­ tra pit. It seemed fitting to mark Charlie's grave with a part of the Kane. The inscrip­ ti on read,

For I baue had too much Of apple-picking: I am overtired Of tbe great baruest I myse(f desired.

- Robert Frost

photo by La11ril' M11!/e11 THEBOOK­ Lorraine Powell

The leather-bound book is so soft to the touch. It feels so good to ru b my fin gers across it. The little bumps of the dried cowhide remind me of life 's lows and highs, of its sadness and joy.

Inside its leather covers are fo und both truth and li es, good and evil , sadness and happiness, discouragement and fa ith .

The stories contained within its covers are refl ecti ons of many di ffe rent li ves, from many different viewpoints, from many different places and times. Yet, within these leather covers they are all one book.

The book has the reputati on of hav ing sold the most copies; they say it will never go out of print. But one thing is fo r sure: one day th e li es will all be exposed and its truths will shine fo rth as gold. cbarcoa/ hyJaso11 Noe EDUCATIONAL SERVICES DMACC CREATIVE WRITING CON­ Jim Sti ck; Chair, Humanities TEST JUDGES Tom Nelson; Dean of Industry and Jim Bittner Technical Rick Christman Burgess Shriver; Dean of Sciences and Rosemay Olds Humanities Jim Stick Kim Linduska ; Vi ce President of Academic Affairs ADDIDONAL COllEGE HELP Dolores Johnson; Chair, Commercial Art COllEGE SUPPORTERS Penny Sullivan; Instructor, Design Ankeny campus' Student Action Board Ann Schuman; Instructo r, Production Dean Kriss Philips; Boone Foundation Doug Nicolet; Instructor, Computers Clyde Kramer, VP, Pat Butin, Cheryl Curt Stahr; Instructor, Photography Spencer; DMACC Foundation Advisor CORPORATE DONORS Rick Chapman; West Des Moines State Bank Communications/ Humanities Percival Galleries, Inc. STAFF INDIVIDUAL DONORS Carey Swanson; Edito r Sa ll y Pederson and James A. Autry Heather Biggar; Art Directi on/ Design Chri stine and Clark Bening Jenna Flemming; Production Assistance Brent and Nancy Green Hansens Printing; Printer/ Scanning Barbara Lukavsky William Ludwig James Jan Mackay Janet and Loran Parker Dean and Diane Peyton Burgess and Cynthia Shriver Philip and Margaret Stoffregen Connie Wimer