The Bellarmine Review Volume 66, Spring 2008 The Literary Magazine of Fairfield College Preparatory School CONTENTS Short Stories The Drifter 1 Kyle Skov Coffee Shop 4 Matt Leonard Escape 7 Don Tartaglione The Tree 10 Peter Gangi A Sad Day’s Stroll 12 Will Conway If I Met John Daly 15 Will Hollis The Portrait 17 Max Wright Poetry Frosty Moon 23 Ray Peña Lost 24 Kyle Skov Winter’s Slide 25 Drew Crawley The Passionate Pitcher 26 Max Freccia The Abyss 27 Dan Catchpole This is Just To Say 28 Jake Haddon Hoard 29 Will Bergen The Last Moments 30 Harley Brown New Beginnings 31 Justin Marini Purgatory 32 Tim Damm CONTENTS POETRY (Continued) Sidewalks 33 Reed Perry the dragon 34 Reed Perry The Wildfire 35 Tobin Sotil To Make a Catch 36 Tobin Sotil The Emerald Peninsula 37 Tom McGrath A Perfect Storm 38 Ross Riskin From Dark to Light 39 Peter Vaccaro This Lovely Cocoon 40 Will Conway night 41 Daniel DeLoma We Lax Bros 42 Slater Kirby Latin 43 Peter Gangi Lend The Stars Your Heart 44 John Griffin The Indoor Meadow 45 Colin Nevins Satire Coffee 49 Martinez & Sauer Tom Petty’s Super Bowl Scare 51 Dan Condren The Perfect Year 53 Brian Sokol Survivorboy 55 Kyle Skov Editor James M. Chesbro Managing Editors Kyle Skov ’08 Will Bergen ’08 Reed Perry ’08 Layout Editor Daniel DeLoma ’09 Associate Editors Ray Peña ’08 Peter Gangi ’08 Max Wright ’08 Tim DeMarco ’09 Peter Vaccaro ’09 John Griffin ’09 Josh Jowdy ’10 Brendan Bercik ’10 Colin Perras ’10 Cover Photograph by Tim Burke ’08 The Bellarmine Review - Spring 2008 - Volume 66 We want our publication to be authentic to the writer’s adolescent experience and desire to publish poetry and prose that is: clear, concise, and evokes the senses, taking the audience to the writer’s imagined place through strong images, and a good sense of rhythm. It is believed in Jesuit education that an academic endeavor may be an encounter with the divine: Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam. That is to say that in the authenticity of our written thoughts we may unknowingly stumble on truth. Our intent is to give our students’ words a place to land, serving as an accomplished venue to acknowledge their lived truth. Send submissions of poetry and prose from September 1st until March 1st to [email protected]. Short Stories 1 KYLE SKOV ’08 The Drifter It has been three years since I started this journey across the United States. I first started in Delaware on April 3, 1995; I walked out the front door of my house and never looked back. There was no real reason for it I just needed change. I’ve been walking ever since that day. No certain path, just up and down trying to walk beside major highways ending up in different cities every some odd days. Over the journey I have gathered some interesting possessions that I keep in a back pack that I found thrown on top of a median. The bag has one strap that is torn off and the remaining one is slung over my shoulder. There are three zippers but I can only get two to work. The color of the bag has been fading from the sun that beats down each day. It started out as a forest green color that looked like the leaves of trees in the spring but now its turning into a brownish color like when summer is starting to turn to fall and those once beautiful leaves start to decay. Although the bag looks a bit beat up it still does its job. I take everything I get and toss it in. You may be asking where a drifter like me obtains any new posses- sions. Well I always want to maintain a place in society even if it is under the radar and no one notices it. So each time I enter a new city or town I bargain with people to obtain basic necessities like food, a place to stay, and even sometimes a shower. I strike up deals to do chores to pay for what I am using of theirs. It’s the charity of the people that fills my bag. I have been told that I have a personality that could befriend anyone and anything. This is proba- bly what keeps my journey moving along. The people that I stay with tend to take a liking to their dirty guest and usually like to send me off with a parting gift. These gifts range from food to a beat up teddy bear handed to me by a three year old girl. Each thing in my bag reminds me of the places that I have been to and the people that I have met along the way. Some people take pictures to remember where they have KYLE SKOV ’08 2 been, others like to collect interesting rocks. I have my nap sack of memories. I remember the first house that I stayed at when my time was up, and I had finished fixing a leak in their shed which happened to be my home while I stayed with this family. The owner even handed me a key. Yes, a key but not one to the house or shed, but to a car that he had wrecked a few years back. He said it was the closest thing he had ever been to death and he kept it as a good luck charm. He felt that I might need a bit of luck as I continue. So I took the tarnished key and tossed it into my bag being careful not to break it due to the crack it had in the center. Its gifts like this that really stay with me throughout my journey. A lot of families send me off with food or a bar of soap. Yeah, these are thoughtful things but they are used up and gone like my memories of them. So on with my journey if I feel my welcome is starting to wear thin or my job is done then I know it is time for me to set off again. There is no rhyme or reason to why I pick a family, I just walk up the steps to the door or the stairs to an apartment and ask. Time and time again I get the door slammed in my face but, when that door opens and I’m invited in it’s always a different experience. I remember one family I was staying with each night before every- one went to sleep they would gather and play a board game. It seemed real Brady Bunchesk but it was one of the best experiences I had thus far in my three years. Every night was a different game they said. While I was there we played Risk, Monopoly, Life, and Pay Day. So each day I would spend clean- ing in their house thinking of the game that we would be playing that night. Finally, on the day that I chose to leave the family gave me a portable Mancala game. I took it, put it into my bag, and was on my way. 3 KYLE SKOV ’08 The memory of that family will be intertwined with all the other memories sitting at the bottom of my bag. Sitting on top is the teddy bear I got from the curly blonde haired girl. Next to that is the rock given to me by the pimple faced teenager in Pennsylvania. Above that lays the key which is covered up by the book of songs handed to me by the Professor in Connecti- cut. All of them are the web of my memories that I cling to at night when I am not with a new family and I am left to sleep underneath the most natural roof there is (the sky). I get lost in it once again, finding myself trapped in the happiness of my past. It’s been an interesting ride so far. I’m just walking the parallel yellow lines for now and will continue to do so until my luck runs out. I’ll take my nap sack of memories and make like one of those old cliché movies and go off into the sunset. MATT LEONARD ’10 4 Coffee shop The black and white leaves scraped across the unforgiving asphalt without a sound, losing pieces of themselves in this tireless quest to achieve their fate of one day being crushed into nothingness under the foot of an apathetic passerby. The wind, erratic and skeletal, brought with it a chilling feeling of gloom and despair. And as the morose sun finally drifted below the horizon, the last bit of hope for the future was extinguished along with it. Mr. Smith began his trek home from work in the same, routine manner as he had been doing his entire life: he picked up his briefcase, put on his hat and coat, and drearily walked out of his cubicle without a word to anyone. The people in his office had given up trying to greet him altogether, and just lived their lives as though he did not exist. Mr. Smith left the build- ing without looking up and quickly began walking towards his car. He could not feel the wind slapping against his face and he could not hear the leaves crackling under his polished black shoes as he shuffled through them. He did not see, hear, smell, touch, or taste anything out of the ordinary, because really who has time for change these days? As he had done everyday, he got in his car and began driving to his destination, wherever that may have been.