Adelaide Literary Magazine No. 32. January 2020

Revista Literária Adelaide

Fairfield County, Ohio 2012 grass deeply into the soft brown earth. He
entered the gated yard, climbed the steps,
The watcher, the walker, and the breather and they embraced each other in their
of breaths stumbled out from the trees of familiar way. “Welcome home, my love,”
the back woods bathed in the golden light whispered Margaret. “There’s coffee on.”
of daybreak. His old body was naked and She took his hand, squeezed it gently, and
broken from his long night’s journey, but led him into the warm and glowing light of
it mattered not. The timeworn house was their doorway.
just there across the pasture, strongly sil-
houetted against a brilliant eastern sky. At Maynard Glen Assisted Living 2012
first, it was just a dark form rising from the
rolling horizon, but as he drew closer and “Doctor…Doctor Bricker…Paul. It’s been
closer, the details revealed themselves: almost ten minutes. He’s gone. I think it’s
the movement of an empty rocking chair time.” The doctor acknowledged his col-
on the porch, the warm glow of an open league’s opinion with a nod of resignation.
front door, and the familiar form standing
at the top of the steps with open arms, out- Doctor Paul Bricker exhaled a breath of
stretched. His heart leapt in his chest, and frustration and said,
his pace quickened to a run, each footfall
melting the morning frost, pressing the “Time of death: 5:24.”

About the Author

After losing three family members at an impressionable age,
Stephen Stratton Moore tributes this experience as greatly
influencing him as a writer in the way that he looks at things.
It gave him a richer appreciation of our connectedness and
stoked an inner passion to revel in the bittersweet nuances
of those bonds. This is his first published story! Stephen is
a writer, musician and graphic designer.

99

TWO CANES

by Terry Sanville

1. unsteady coming out of the shower. Most
days I don’t need it. I can still walk three
At a little after nine in the morning, Douglas miles in an hour.”
stepped off the bus and hobbled along the
sidewalk to the Pacific Grove Senior Center. “Good for you. My husband used to run
On Tuesdays and Thursdays, they served half-marathons in his late seventies. But
free coffee and Danish to forty-plus gray- that didn’t help his drinking, poor dear.”
hairs. He knew most of them. Some had
been around since the ’60s and the Monte- “Do you want cream in your coffee?”
rey Pop Festival where Jimi Hendrix doused Douglas offered.
his guitar with lighter fluid and set it ablaze.
“That’d be nice. Those other gents have
But a new woman named Beverly had been bending my ear ever since I got here
showed up the month before. Most of the and the coffee’s almost gone.”
men gave her the eye, at least those who still
had good enough eyesight. And she provided “I hope you don’t mind talking with me
plenty to gaze at: long hair dyed chestnut for awhile. I enjoyed your company the last
brown, ample cleavage, slim waste, and time.”
nicely sculpted legs free of varicose veins.
Only the crow’s feet around her eyes and “I remember you, Douglas, right? You’re
the three-pronged cane gave her away. Plus a nice man, a smart guy that still has all his
the brilliant red lipstick didn’t help. Douglas marbles,” she lowered her voice, “more
never understood why some older women than I can say for some of these folks.”
seemed to favor the bright colors, and wore
those unflattering chartreuse and vermillion “I hear you. But I got used to taking care
stretch pants. He never had the guts to ask. of my wife before she died and…and I have
great sympathy for the disabled.”
When he arrived at the Center, Beverly
broke off a conversation with Leroy and Beverly nodded. “Yes, ‘there but for for-
joined him at the coffee bar. “I see you tune’…”
brought a cane this time. I didn’t know you
needed one.” “I always liked the way Joan Baez sang
that song.”
Douglas groaned to himself and tried
thinking up a snappy response. “I…I felt a bit “Me too.”

Beverly’s smile faded and her eyes had
a thousand-yard stare, like the Nam vets

100

Revista Literária Adelaide

Douglas used to pass in the hospital cor- 2.
ridors during his rehab a lifetime ago. He
wondered what had triggered such a strong Two weeks passed before Douglas saw her
reaction. He knew she came from SoCal, had again. He thought their first date had gone
been married for forty-plus years to an older well –­­ reminiscing about the Summer of
guy, some kind of engineer, who’d died of Love, the terrible war years, the rat race of
liver failure, leaving Beverly with enough making it as professionals, she as an inte-
money but only a daughter for support. rior designer, he as a systems annalist. Af-
ter a restaurant meal downtown, they had
“So, you’re going to stay at the Center all returned to the Senior Center before the
day?” Douglas asked. daughter showed up to reclaim her mother.
They’d exchanged phone numbers. She’d
“I think so. My…my daughter will pick me rewarded him with a kiss on the mouth
up around four.” that lasted longer than two Mississippis.
But then nothing.
“You want to get the hell outta here and
have a real meal downtown, maybe take in He had phoned the number she’d given
an early matinee?” him and got a “not in service” message. His
own phone stayed silent. Aaah, just one
She flashed a coy smile and glanced at of those things. Probably hooked up with
the group of guys staring at them. “You some dude who can still run half-marathons.
mean like a date? Two other men have al- Maybe I was trying too hard and scared her
ready asked and I turned them down.” off. Typical, Douglas, typical…so out of prac-
tice.
“Wise move. You’re too sharp for those
boys. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, But when he arrived at the Center on
but…” Thursday, Beverly stood gabbing with her
entourage and sipping coffee. She smiled
“Yes, I used to have friends like them. when he passed the group. As he mixed
They moved away to be near their children powdered creamer into his mug of decaf
and I’ll be damned if I can find their ad- she tapped him on the shoulder.
dresses.”
“Say buster, I thought you were going to
Douglas grinned. “I don’t have that call. Did I do something wrong?”
problem…never had kids.”
He frowned. “I did call, tried three times,
“Really? Why the heck not?” but that number is out of service.”

“It’s kind of personal…and I need a couple “That can’t be. I use the phone all the
drinks in me to answer that one.” time. What number did you use?”

“Well maybe sometime you can invite me Douglas removed the slip of paper from
over to your place and tell me all about it. his wallet and handed it over.
You do have a place, don’t you?”
She seemed confused. “Well, this looks
“So you’d trust me enough to be alone right…oh wait. Silly me, I gave you the old
with me?” number at my house. I now live with my
daughter and I hate cell phones, too many
“I’m a big girl. Nobody takes advantage of buttons.”
me.” Beverly sipped her coffee while Douglas
struggled with what to say next.

101

Adelaide Literary Magazine

“But why didn’t you call me? I gave you “Great idea.” But inwardly, Douglas
my number.” groaned. He couldn’t remember what shape
the bathroom was in, felt sure that the re-
“You did? It must have gotten lost in my mains of last night’s pizza lay on the coffee
purse. That thing is some kind of black hole table in front of the TV, and that a stack of
that sucks up light and matter.” dirty dishes squatted in the kitchen sink.

“Look, Beverly. I thought our first…first On the ride to his house overlooking
date went really well. I was hoping for a Monterey Bay, Beverly stayed quiet, let
second. But if you’re not interested, just tell­­ Douglas rattle on about how he and his
me now and–” wife had bought the place fifteen years back
when he’d retired.
“Don’t be silly, of course I’m interested.”
“For the last few years I’ve been batching
“Can I have your daughter’s number?” it. So don’t expect much interior design.”

“It’s in my purse somewhere. Tell you “You don’t need to apologize, Douglas. I’m
what, I’ll dig it out at lunch, my treat this impressed that you’re still living in your own
time.” place. I love my daughter, but it’s her house
and I still feel like a guest. I should never have
“Great, I’ve brought my car.” agreed to move in with Ellen and her family.”

“Even better. And don’t think I’ve for- Douglas nosed his ’55 Chevy Nomad into
gotten our parting kiss. There are some the gravel driveway and escorted Beverly to
things a gal doesn’t forget.” the front door. His hands shook as he tried
inserting the key.
“So how’d I do?”
“Here, let me,” Beverly said.
“You passed, but you’re a little out of
practice.” “No, I got it. The lock is a bit tricky.”

Douglas laughed. “If you only knew…” “Yeah, old hardware can get that way.”
Beverly laughed and Douglas hoped she
He drove to Cannery Row in Monterey wasn’t referring to something else.
and parked on a side street. They walked
hand in hand, their canes cracking against They placed their canes in the basket just
the sidewalk. The shops had just opened inside the front door. Douglas hurried for-
and they wandered from store to store, ward to clear away the refuse in the living
rubbing elbows with the hoards of summer room and check the bathroom for anything
tourists. When it came to window-shopping, disgusting. When he finished, Beverly had
Beverly could run her own marathon. But it vanished. Maybe she bailed after getting
was all look and no buy. Douglas wondered one look at how I live. My wife used to get
if their friendship would be the same. after me for being such a slob.

“I’m getting hungry,” Beverly said. “Are Beverly’s cane still rested in the basket
you ready to eat?” near the front door. He peered outside. The
Nomad sat empty, ticking itself cold.
“I can eat. But the restaurants look mobbed.”
“Beverly,” he called but got no response.
“Why don’t we get some takeout from He found the deli food on the sideboard in
the deli and go to your place.” She smiled
and tightened her grip on his hand.”

102

Revista Literária Adelaide

the dining room, next to the picture window for years began to fade. He tried speaking
that framed the bay. but Beverly shushed him.

“Beverly,” he called again. Maybe she’s “That…that was great, honey,” she said.
out on the deck. That railing’s shaky. She “My bell rang more times than that clock of
could take a tumble and…this is crazy…this yours.” She kissed him and rose slowly from
is crazy” the bed, her body trembling. “Which way is
the shower? Care to join me?”
“Beverly.”
It was the longest shower he’d ever
He moved down the hallway to the taken. Afterwards, while dressing, he felt
master bedroom and pushed inside. The shy and would only snatch quick glimpses
drapes had been closed and the nightstand of Beverly.
lamp turned on. He sucked in a breath.
Beverly lay with her head propped on a “So, are you ready to be taken out for a
pillow, wearing nothing. Her gorgeous body late lunch?” she asked. “My daughter won’t
glowed in the golden light. be picking me up until five.”

Douglas managed to sputter, “Wow, I…I “Aren’t we going to eat the deli food?
thought I’d lost you.” I’m sure it’s still good and I have some nice
chilled Chardonnay.”
“I’m right here. Lose those clothes and
come lie with me.” “Lord, I forgot all about that. Yes, let’s eat
on the deck. I’d better get my cane. My legs
He struggled with his sport shirt, his hands are wobbly for some reason.” She smiled at
getting stuck in the tightly buttoned cuffs. But Douglas and he fought the urge to throw
everything else slid off his slender body. her onto the bed and start the afternoon
all over again.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “I didn’t
scare you, did I?” They agreed to meet at the Senior Center
twice a week and spend the days together.
“I was worried that you had cut and run Beverly didn’t want her daughter to know
after seeing my messy place.” about their relationship.

“Does it look like I did?” “It really bugs me,” she complained, “this
role reversal thing. It’s as if Helen thinks I’m
He lay next to her and she turned and some horny teenager in danger of getting
kissed him, a long kiss. She tasted salty. pregnant. I can’t talk with her about men,
Douglas liked savory. “Do you want the light especially ones I care about…that I love.”
out?” he asked. She leaned across the Nomad’s front seat
and kissed Douglas.
“No, I want to see everything. Don’t you?”
He responded with a longer kiss. “I love
“Of course.” He pulled her against his you too. But…but I thought you told me
eager body. your daughter’s name is Ellen.”

In what seemed like no time, the grand- “When did I say Ellen?” Beverly asked in-
father clock in the living room chimed dignantly. “I think I know my own daughter’s
two. They lay side-by-side, sweat covered, name.”
drained but smiling stupidly at the ceiling.
The background ache of loneliness and lack
of intimacy that Douglas had tried to ignore

103

Adelaide Literary Magazine

“Of course. I probably just misheard you. “What happened?”
I’m old. I do that sometimes.”
“She’d run out of gas somewhere near
3. Paso Robles and it was way past midnight.”

A few days after New Year’s, Douglas arrived Douglas grimaced. “She must have been
at the Senior Center early. He hadn’t talked terrified.”
with his old buddies for several weeks and
wanted to catch up. Leroy had parked his “Yeah, but that’s not the creepy part. It
wheelchair near the coffee bar and hurried seems that her daughter, Ellen, didn’t live
to pour his friend a cup of decaf. in Santa Barbara anymore, had moved with
her family to Santa Cruz years before.”
“So how are you lovebirds doin’?” he
asked. A leering smile creased his face. “Yikes, that’s one hell of a misplaced
memory.”
“Beverly is great. We have a lot of common
interests.” “Ya think! The daughter was so freaked
out that they moved here to be closer to
“Yeah, I’ll bet. One of them’s between the Beverly and Bev finally moved in with them.”
sheets. I see how she looks at you. And ya
know, it’s totally uncool for us geezers to get “That’s some story.” Chills shoot down
hard-ons in public.” Douglas’s spine.

“What? It’s cool for younger guys?” “Well, don’t get too spooked by it. It could
Douglas joked. “Hey look, she’s beautiful, be nothing but I just thought you should
wants to be with me, and I’m too much of a know. Besides, Beverly’s a total fox. We’re all
gentlemen to tell you any more.” jealous that she picked you as her lover boy.”

Leroy rolled to the corner of the room Douglas grinned wryly. “Does it show
before continuing their conversation. “Have that much?”
you noticed anything a bit off about her?”
“Hell ya. You’re like a stallion curlin’ his
“No, why” upper lip before doin’ the mare.”

“Some say she’s startin’ ta lose it, ya know, The door to the Center swung open and
up here.” Leroy tapped the side of his head. Beverly stood in the entry, letting her eyes
get used to the darker interior.
“Really? Are you nuts?”
Leroy clapped Douglas on the arm. “Just
“Ya know, she’s been around town a long go for it, man, and don’t worry ’bout nothin’
time.” else. Crappy diem, brother.”

“Yes, so?” Douglas smiled at his friend’s mispronun-
ciation of the Latin aphorism. He watched
Leroy sighed and sucked in a breath. “A Leroy roll away to join the grumbling old
couple three years ago Beverly drove south men at the pool table.
to visit her daughter in Santa Barbara.”
“Was…was that Leroy you were talking
“So she was living in her own place?” to?” Beverly asked.

“Yeah, a nice house in Carmel. Anyway, “Yes, the very one. We were in Vietnam
the Highway Patrol found her hitchhiking the same year.”
alongside the 101 next to her car.”

104

Revista Literária Adelaide

“Well, don’t believe everything he says. Beverly pressed against his side and
I’ve heard him tell terrible stories about me. whispered, “And screwing our brains out
I am not that kind of gal.” will help with that?”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry. He’s just “One can only hope.”
jealous.”
4.
Beverly smiled but didn’t look convinced.
“Sorry I’m late. I almost forgot today is our After driving up and down Carmel Valley
day. Thank God for the reminder notes I Road with Beverly as navigator, they ar-
leave in my undies drawer.” rived finally at the daughter’s home. A Mer-
cedes sedan occupied the driveway of the
“We can change the days if this doesn’t sprawling ranch-style house surrounded by
work for you.” orchards and fields.

“God no, I’m getting used to this schedule. “Come in, come in, so glad to meet
But before we go to your place for…for you.” The smiling daughter had blonde hair
morning prayers, my daughter wants to talk tied back in a long braid, her face without
with us.” makeup. “I’ve just put on some Brazilian
coffee. It’ll take a while. I hope you like it.”
“Really? That sounds ominous.”
“I’m sure I will,” Douglas said. “I’ve been
“Yes, I thought about ignoring her. But drinking the Senior Center’s decaf for
Helen will keep after me, so I think we months and have almost forgotten what
should just get it over with.” good coffee tastes like.”

“What does she want to talk to me about?” The trio moved into the living room
with a large picture window looking onto
“Oh, you know: Are you screwing my Mom? pastoral fields. Beverly sat on the edge of
Are you using protection? Has she given you the sofa next to Douglas while the daughter
any money? What are your intentions?” pulled up a chair to face them.

“She sounds extremely protective. Why “I don’t know what Mom has told you
is that?” about our family. My husband, Stan, is out
doing something in the orchards and our two
“I don’t know. I’ve always gotten along boys are away at college, and I don’t want to
fine by myself – although I do sometimes know what they’re doing.” She laughed, the
depend on the kindness of strangers.” Bev- color coming up in her pale cheeks.
erly’s voice had slipped into a Blanche Du-
bois accent. Douglas cleared his throat. “I’m sure you
have a bunch of questions for me. I’m not
Douglas took her arm and steered her sure what you mother has told you.”
toward the door. “Come on, let’s go to my
place first for…” “Are you kidding? I have to drag every
scrap of information out of her.”
“Why are you always more frisky in the
morning?” “I prefer to be discrete,” Beverly snapped.
“We may be old but we still have our own
“It’s the only time I can keep up with you. lives.”
Besides we both need to be relaxed when
we talk with your daughter.

105

Adelaide Literary Magazine

“Yes, Mom, I know. But you’ve been… Ellen sighed. “Thanks for telling me. I re-
been happy these past few months and I ally don’t want to pry, but I’m Mom’s…well,
just wanted to–” I’m her caretaker and I know how attractive
she is to…”
“Butt into our affairs?”
“To gray beards like me?” Douglas
Douglas took Beverly’s hand and chuckled and sat back against the cushions.
squeezed. “It okay, I don’t mind. If your “I take good care of your mother. She’s a
daughter knows nothing about me, how can wonderful woman…and I love her.”
she trust me?”
“Oh God!”
“Thanks for understanding,” the daughter
said. “What’s wrong with loving your mother?”

Without prompting, Douglas summa- “Absolutely nothing. She seems happy
rized his life: the Vietnam War, the years in to be with you and has been more active
school struggling to find himself, his mar- around here, walks three miles a day and is
riage and rewarding career, retirement, be- taking care of her looks.”
coming a widower, and meeting Beverly.
“So what’s the problem?”
The daughter sat on the edge of her
seat, not interrupting, seeming to ponder “Last year I took her to Stanford for a
Douglas’s story. From the kitchen came a complete evaluation. The doctors con-
pleasant chimes sound. cluded that she’s in the first stages of Alz-
heimer’s. And it’s…it’s progressing.”
“Mom, that’s the coffee. Could you fix us
a tray? The cream is in the refrigerator and Douglas tugged at his beard. “That’s…
the sweetener in the cabinet right next to it.” that’s hard to believe. Your mother and I
have wonderful conversations about every-
“I know, I know,” Beverly muttered. She thing and her mind seems sharp. Sure, she
stood, retrieved her cane, and left. stumbles sometimes. But I’m also 72 and
scramble my words and ideas.”
The daughter pounced. “First off, what’s
my name?” “I know, I know. I denied her memory
lapses and confusion for a long time, fig-
Douglas’s forehead wrinkled in surprise. ured it was just normal old age.”
“Your name?”
Douglas sighed. “I might be doing the
“Yes, my name. What has Mom told you?” same thing. A friend of mine at the Senior
Center warned me that she might be slip-
“She calls you both Helen and Ellen. They ping. I told him he was nuts.”
sound so much alike, it’s easy to–”
Ellen moved next to Douglas and took
“No, I’m afraid its not. My name’s Ellen. his hand. “I’m sorry, but at some point she
And I’ve gotta ask, have…have you been in- will need full-time care. And she won’t
timate with my Mom?” know either of us. I dread that day, but it’s
coming.”
“Yes, she’s wonderful.”
Douglas sat in stunned silence. “I…I still
“I don’t need details.” can’t believe–”

“Good, because you won’t get them from
me. And you don’t need to worry about STDs.”

106

Revista Literária Adelaide

“Wait, just wait a minute. Remember I Mom if you break it off. But it might be the
told Mom where the cream and sweeteners best for both of you – before it becomes…
were kept?” too painful.”

“Yeah, in the refrigerator and the cabinet Douglas thought about living without
next to it.” Beverly, knowing they could never be just
friends. The words to Somebody to Love, an
“Just wait.” old Jefferson Airplane song, filled his head
along with Grace Slick’s quavering voice.
In a few moments Beverly called from
the kitchen. “Helen, where did you hide More noise came from the kitchen.
the sweeteners? And does anybody want Douglas stood and fumbled with his cane,
cream?” ready to go help Beverly. Ellen stared at him,
waiting for some kind of response.
Ellen called out instructions as Douglas’s
mind raced. Should I end this thing before He smiled. “You know, I think I’ll take the
I get hurt badly? Let her down easy, but advice from an old friend, the same one that
firmly? Or should I ignore what’s happening warned me about your mother’s condition.
and continue on? Will I be able to handle He told me, ‘Just go for it, man, and don’t
such a long forgetting? worry ’bout nothin’. Crappy diem, brother.’”

Ellen cleared her throat and Douglas Ellen raised her eyebrows, then a smile
looked into her eyes, so much like her moth- stretched her lips. “Crappy diem?”
er’s, full of life.
Douglas grinned. “Well it’s really ‘carpe
“I know it’s hard to deal with,” she said. diem,’ you know, seize the day. My friend’s
“But if you’ll tell me what you’re thinking, not exactly literate, but he is wise.”
I can help. I know you don’t want to hurt

About the Author

Terry Sanville lives in San Luis Obispo, California with
his artist-poet wife (his in-house editor) and two plump
cats (his in-house critics). He writes full time, producing
short stories, essays, poems, and novels. Since 2005, his
short stories have been accepted more than 370 times
by commercial and academic journals, magazines, and
anthologies including The Potomac Review, The Bryant
Literary Review, and Shenandoah. He was nominated twice
for Pushcart Prizes and once for inclusion in Best of the Net
anthology. His stories have been listed among “The Most
Popular Contemporary Fiction of 2017” by the Saturday
Evening Post. Terry is a retired urban planner and an accomplished jazz and blues guitarist –
who once played with a symphony orchestra backing up jazz legend George Shearing.

107

CONCEPTION

by Jim Tuggle

“Mary?” to evolve, develop their brain, figure stuff
out. What do you think? Is he going to mi-
“Yes?” cro-manage a bunch of intelligent animals?
No. He’s not.”
“Are you ‘the Mary,’ mother of Jesus
Christ?” She hesitated for a moment, “Listen to
me, Mark, there is no Hell. Hell is just a
“Yes, sir, I am indeed, the mother of Jesus. part of Heaven. Some souls deserve the
I am well known up here; how is it that you best; some deserve the worst. And some
not recognize me?” are too complicated to fit any mold — we
call them Floaters. As you’ve discovered,
“Well, that’s a complicated story. You Floater can wander through all of Heaven,
see, I went to Hell when I died. Seems I was but you live very close to the other side of
rather famous when I lived in the flesh. My the tracks. I’m sure you understand that
popular name is—” metaphor.”

“Sam, you lovable semi-wicked man, all “Well, ain’t that a kick in the… butt. You’ll
of Heaven knows Mark Twain. The gossip I have to excuse me ‘cause I’ll been stuck on
hear is that you pushed the envelope one the other side of the tracks until my re-clas-
too many times. That book you wrote, Mys- sification got approved. So, anyway, I’m
terious Stranger as I recall — it pushed the dying to ask you a question.”
Old Man over the edge. He agreed with you
on most parts, even laughed out loud on “Dying!” She laughed.
occasion, but depicting the Devil as some-
what rational and humane yanked a knot in Twain chuckled, “Stupid choice of words.
His tail.” I’ve wanted to ask you a question for a very
long time. But, it’s very personal — don’t
Twain’s petulance returned, “Well, god- want to offend. Is that OK”?
dammit, it is true. Those damn Christians
tortured humans in the most grotesque way. “Ask away Mark Twain; your question will
And they did it in the name of God. How in be answered.”
the hell can that be?”
“Thank you. I was about thirty years old
Mary reached out, her finger scarcely when Pope Pius IX made it official: Mary,
touching his nose. “You are missing the big mother of Jesus, was a virgin when the
picture, Sam. The Lord allowed humans seed of Jesus was planted in your womb,

108

Revista Literária Adelaide

or where ever that seed begins its journey. What an odd question to ask, Joe hes-
Would you clear that up for me?” itated, then answered, “Nope, no kids
yet. We try, maybe someday.” After Joe
“Sure, I know all about Adam and his shrugged, he said, “I have to leave now, big
apple of knowledge. And all the religious job over in East Jerusalem. Carpenter work
dogma. Eve getting the short end of the is tough these days. Plus,” he winked, “I’m
stick — Original Sin, and all that baloney. I’d told she’s a good-looking woman — and
be glad to set the record straight. alone. The husband’s a Roman soldier.” He
winked again at the stranger, “She may
“I was married for God’s sake. What kind need some extra comfort if you know what
of person would I be had Joseph and I not I mean?”
enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh or to
raise a family? God came to me as a human Joe wasn’t out the door but for a few
man. And I gladly coupled with Him. Why moments before I came out of the bedroom,
me? The question was never asked. One bare breasts, bare feet, only a short wrap
thing is for sure; I was alluring, moral, and low on my hips. There the stranger sat, “Oh
loving as any other women. Never was I my—”
above, nor beneath any other female. He
needed a vessel, I gladly accepted. “Fear not, lady Mary, Joe invited me to
stay and rest awhile.” The stranger could
“Come, sit with me, Mark, I will tell you not take his eyes from the beautiful crea-
the tale.” ture before him.

*** And I, naked to the waist, bare feet,
with a wrap low on my hips. Why do I not
It was early morning for someone to visit. cover myself? What force tugs me to this
Joe answered the door. “Can I help you?” handsome man? Why do I fear not? Slowly
and sultry, I pulled one foot in front of the
A handsome, middle age, tall, majes- other while gliding toward this mysterious
tic-looking fellow asked in a most pleasing fellow. My genitals filled with blood and
way, “I’ve traveled a long distance, Joe—” began to moisten. I reached to touch his
knee. My eyes fell to his lap like rocks fall
How’d he know Joe’s name? to the ground. An apparent lump slowly
began to rise, to lift his robe like the
“— I’m tired and thirsty. Do you sup- hoisting of a tent. Oh my, I’m burning up.
pose I could rest a bit before I continue my I reached for the thing lifting his robe. My
journey?” eyes grew; a big smile appeared. My fin-
gers wrapped around the thing beneath
What a nice fellow, very odd for a the robe.
stranger to come by; in the morning no less.
How can he refuse? “Sure,” Joe said, “stay as The stranger sat still, watching my fas-
long as you like. My wife, Mary, will be up cination grow. While my hand reached the
in a while, tell her I offered you some water, bottom, I looked into his eyes. I knew some-
some bread, and a place to rest before you thing was amiss, although I knew something
continue your journey. You will like Mary; beautiful was coming my way. I moved my
she’s a wonderful lady.” lips to his while the grip on the thing under

The man had a puzzled look, “The chil-
dren, are they not up yet?”

109

Adelaide Literary Magazine

the robe held firm. His kiss stirred me like I laid yielding as a fog on the morning
gentle lightning through my body. Desire so glen, facing up, legs apart, arms stretched
strong; I melted into his lap. wide. Deep sleep came quickly.

The trip to the bed felt like moving on a The dinner hour approach. Joe came
cloud, no sensation of being carried. I’m on through the door, looked for me. Not
the bed, my wrap is gone, his fingers floated finding me, he called. Nothing. Entering the
along my face, my neck, nipples, belly, va- bedroom, there I lay precisely the way sleep
gina, thighs, feet. had taken me. “Mary!” he shouted. Nothing,
“Mary!” raising his voice.
I could see myself as if floating above,
my body reacting to my pleasure. A vision “What,” came a sleepy answer.
came to me; it was the thing beneath the
robe. I reached for it, held it, guided it into He shook my left foot. “Wake up. I’m
my body. hungry.”

I’d experienced an orgasm, but not like “I hear you. Give me a moment.”
this. I looked and saw my soul, the two of us,
myself and my soul, embracing each other, He grabbed my ankle. The covers were
while every magnificent thing flows through damp. He moved toward the headboard,
us — ecstasy, rapture, euphoria. And with leaning in. My hair was soaking wet. “Mary!”
that seed came all the understanding of the he yelled, “Why are you so sweaty?”
Universe.
“What? Sweaty? Me?” I lifted my head,
The wonderment remained, and it con- blinking rapidly, looking around, then at Joe.
tinued, how long? I could not say. I knew My head fell back to the bed. Then he no-
there were two of me — my flesh and ticed the sweet scent of spent love. “Damn
my soul. What a glorious thing, my spirit you, Mary. You laid with him. I gave him
watching my vessel — watching him plea- bread and water. You gave him your body.
suring me — watching me pleasuring him. I’ll kill you, Mary.”
Then the moment arrived — joy unbridled.
My body was not of the flesh. It was pure My eyes turned to fire, my face showed
energy. I drifted through the stars, the a foreboding look, frightening a stunned
heavens, the Universe. There, way down Joe. He recoiled backward. I spoke as never
there, lay my body taking in the man with before. “No, you will do no such thing, you
all he had to give. When flesh could take no weasel, you fornicator extraordinaire. If I
more, he pulled free. He kissed every part am with child, you will be a loving father.
of me, head to toe, front to back. Every little You change your ways this very moment, or
piece felt his tingling gentleness. I’ll feed your manhood to the dogs.”

When my senses returned, the man He backed away, stunned silent by my
stood before me in all his nakedness. I threats.
asked with an infectious grin, “When are
you coming back?” I stood, pushing my face almost nose to
nose. “Yes, I took the seed from that bewil-
“He laughed. Be sorry not, sweet Mary; dering man. I took it gladly. No words can
we will meet again.” explain the euphoria given to me by that
perfect gentleman. We separated — souls
departed from our flesh. We watched in

110

Revista Literária Adelaide

joy our bodies giving and taking that seed. I was not a virgin; I wasn’t told, instructed,
My body gladly consumed every pleasure. or any of that stuff. I wanted that man. I am
My body gave all it had to give. I saw the the one who took His seed. I came to Him,
heavens, the stars — I saw things I could that is the truth. And Pope Pius IX was full
never understand. I saw all there is to see. of shit — consumed by his own delusions.”
I became one with the heavens, earth, and
all that is beyond. I saw my child take life. I “But, Mr. Twain, there is more to my story.
saw all the wonders yet to come. And I said At first, I was uncertain; why I don’t know.
to Joseph, I saw you, a sinner among sin- So, when my days were done on earth, God
ners, become a loving, caring father. came to me to discuss the day Jesus was
conceived. One would think God to be in-
*** fallible. Then He said to me, bringing his son
into the saga of man was a mistake. Jesus
She smiled, reached my face, “Now, Mr. should never have come to earth in human
Twain, that I solve the puzzle of all creation, form.
I hold the wish of all living things to pass
their seed on. For one to give, the other “Why,” I asked?
to nurture. It is that overpowering urge to
replenish those who will one day die and “Because God had now become complicit
fade away. The beauty of my coupling with with human development. That spirit of en-
that immaculate man is not a sin. It is our lightenment — He had interfered. If humans
commitment to humanity to pass that seed needed a religion, then fine, let them find
from one to another and what wonder- their spirituality. How tragic is it that His
ment such a task will bring. When some simple message to ‘love thy neighbor’ could
irresistible spirit came to me as flesh and become the battle-cry for such butchery?
blood, and we two made a child — what That is my story, beginning to end. Too bad
amazement might that child bring?” you’re dead, what a fine book that would
make.”
We sat, moments passed, Mary looked at
me with a gleam in her eyes, she said, “Had “So it would, Lady Mary, so it would.”
that event happened any other way; that I We had a nice heavenly laugh. “Thank you
was instructed that you will conceive and for your time. Could I sneak in a few more
give birth to a son, and you are to call him simple questions, the yes-no type?”
Jesus? I was not asked? I had no choice? I was
ordered? So, a man walks into a room and Mary grinned, “Sure, time is no longer
points to one of four women, and says, ‘You an issue.”
will take my seed.’ What might that suggest?”
“The immaculate conception, the Virgin
I blinked a few times, not expecting a Mary. Care to comment?”
question, I stuttered a bit, “I’m, ugh, trying
not to cuss; give me a second.” Finally, She laughed out loud, “Listen, God is not
“Rape is the least offensive word that comes a male, and He’s not a female. He is what
to mind.” He needs to be. And humans are not in his
image — unless that is His desire.
She offered me a gentle smile, “I agree,
Mark Twain. The Christian bible has it wrong. She let a few moments pass, “So, He
decided to give humans and inspiration, a
human to point the way. He came to me as
a man, and we coupled as man and woman.

111

Adelaide Literary Magazine

Immaculate conception is the wrong words. that lingers today, and will for hundreds
It was euphoria, rapture, ecstasy, every- of years to come. And the silliness spread
thing; we left our bodies on the bed. We from religion to religion. Women! Half
were energy, I felt, I saw, I became, enlight- the human population reduced to chattel.
ened, everything there is in the Universe, What a waste.”
passed through His body into me.”
Mary stood, their chat complete, she
Mary stopped, her eyes twinkling like said, “By the way, aren’t you glad there are
stars on the darkest night. “Good Lord, no religions up here?”
those times were so incredible, let’s move
on before I drift away. Next question.” She continued after a short pause,
“That’s what makes Heaven, Heaven. Reli-
“Parting the Red Sea?” gion and God are as different as day is to
night.”
“No.”
Mary reached to kiss me gently on the
“Burning bush?” cheek, “I leave you with this, Mark Twain,
you short-tempered, lovable ass. Suppose
“No. A great and honorable man, but no God had let the humans work their spiritu-
message from God. He only visited earth ality out among themselves? If there would
one time, and He admitted it was a mistake. be no Jesus Christ for misguided souls to
It will never happen again. That is, as far as justify their particular path to salvation
I know, He won’t.” or redemption. A mandate to kill their
brothers and sisters in the name of Jesus
“Ten commandments?” Christ, God, Muhamad. And all the other
miscreants who used the leverage of the
“No! Those are rules conjured my men. ‘son of God’ to lay claim that their way was
All fair guidelines, no doubt. Imagine an old the only way? What skill would Pope Pius
man carrying two, hundred-pound rocks IX have mastered if Jesus Christ had never
down a mountain? Don’t you think God been? A fishmonger, maybe?”
would have given him something eternal,
indestructible, something light as a feather, Twain howled at the thought of a Pope
or you could put in your pocket, maybe selling fish. “Speaking of that fishmonger
hang around your neck?” Pope,” He said, “Where is he?”

Mark chuckled at the answer, then said, Mary motioned with her head, “Where
“Adam and Eve?” he should be, on the other side of the tracks.
Some day the world will take notice of the
“No! A thousand times, no.” She hissed, male clergy in that organization.”
“That’s the destructive crutch Christians
use to tell their flock they are sinners “Goodbye, Mr. Mark Twain, it’s been a
from the very day they pop out of their great visit.” She slowly disappeared, as did
mother’s belly. That’s stupid apocryphal Samuel Langhorne Clemens.
bull… bull-crap — it put a curse on women

112

Revista Literária Adelaide
About the Author
Jim Tuggle received his B/S degree with concentrations in Accounting, Finance, and Computer
Science from Concord University, located in Athens, West Virginia, and a Masters in Business
Administration (MBA) with a concentration in Finance from Virginia Tech at Blacksburg,
Virginia. He practiced as a Certified Public Accountant until he moved to Sarasota, Florida,
in 1999. To date, Jim has written two books of a planned trilogy; Her Mountain Weeps is
the first, a story about a man who loses his wife to lung cancer. Revenge burns red hot in
his gut, and he seeks satisfaction at any cost. The second of the trilogy, To Dare Mighty
Things, deals with the same set of characters as they take on the tragedy of Middle East
unrest. In between the novels, Jim has written over twenty short stories while working on
his trilogy. He finished the final book, Veil of Chaos, in the fall of 2019. It deals with the
disturbing speed of nuclear proliferation in unstable countries. The first two books were
professionally reviewed; each novel received five, 5-star reviews — a 5-star review is the
highest. Jim believes ‘creative writing’ is not an oxymoron — creative being the operative
word. The only thing that matters is that the reader can’t wait to turn the page. The writer
knows when belief is deferred, success has arrived.

113

LEGEND OF THE
MAGIC WOK

by Lynn Dowless

John Burman was as sporter. The label, trouble in the land now, the trouble that
sporter, was a euphemism on the phrase, had deteriorated into a nation wide firefight
front line soldier, on this new arm of the in which John was a front line soldier.
free born people called, The Patriot’s Liber-
ation Front. To be specific about the matter, These demonic villains were the central
John Burman was actually a rifleman, just bank and the corporations that had grown
to use the old terminology. This war was up around it, intending to force themselves
different from all of the others in history, upon the civilians as a distraction, while
however. This war was as much a battle they purloin the entire privately held civilian
between ideologies as it was a contesting resource base. Back during the time prior to
force of arms fighting for total domination. the first Civil War, there had been half of
the national congress who demanded that
To be brutally honest about the situation, checks and balances stand between all cor-
we could reach far backward into history to porate interests, those of the banks, and
discover the roots of this horrible conflict their cooperating constituents high on the
that had gripped the land of the free. It all hill; demanding that all loans taken out or
began with this other great Civil War. His- funds appropriated to any systemic organi-
tory has recorded this battle as being the zation be done so to the beneficial service
first Civil War encompassing enough terri- of the citizens in conjunction with constitu-
tories and people that the safety of the en- tional law, rather than to themselves alone.
tire citizen base and the nation at large was The attack by the defacto central bank of
threatened. the day on the economic base of this half
of the congress who demanded checks
John had devoted years into the studying and balances, wound up exterminating this
this war and his history at large. He knew body of congress who supported the inter-
the real truth, and he was aware as to just ests of citizens. When the war ended all that
who the real villains of history were. To be the nation had running it was a collective
honest about the matter, they were the absolute authority.
same villains that were responsible for

114

Revista Literária Adelaide

There was much more to the story, un- The government had compelled the ex-
fortunately. Back before the fist Civil War, slaves into signing up for military service
individual citizens were allowed to own by telling them that if they wanted legal
slaves. Since the nation had been founded freedom, then doing so was their only way.
in the ideology of an enterprising individual During their times of furlough, they were
ascending the ladder of wealth into a level instructed to commit what in other times
of prosperity on par with that of aristocracy, would have would have been outright
the only realistic manner that he could criminal activities, such as but not limited
achieve this ideal was through ownership to; theft of property, sabotage, random
of property that generated raw product. murder, home invasion, arson, rape, child
This raw product was then transformed into kidnapping, kidnapping, child molestation
processed product. These products were and murder. They were encouraged to do
then exchanged locally, nationally, and in- so by being promised, legal vindication, the
ternationally. The wealth generated from ability to retain what they steal, and that
the exchange was used to facilitate a series they would be given forty acres and a mule
of services back down to the surrounding for the dirty deeds.
population, up to and including both money
lending services and general banking ser- There existed an organization called the
vices. home-guard whose duty was to provide
security, but the home-guard primarily
Unfortunately the only way that a such consisted of older men and others unfit for
an estate could ever be facilitated before military service, and was little match for sol-
the days of mechanization was through use diers on furlough who were skilled in the
of slave labor. The individual’s right to own art of war. When this dreadful war ended,
slaves was guaranteed in five constitutional this regional home-guard assembled as a
articles, and available to all demographics, broken series of paramilitary forces whose
who could and did make use of the them, duty it was to provide security, and pursue
and for all of the same reasons. the perpetrators. The problem in this whole
deal was that the when the war was over
When the war of the corporations and then ex-slaves did not leave the area, they
the banks against the individually owned settled back in among the same dominant
citizens resource base ended, the only way population who they had made war against,
the this death and destruction could ever and whose families and property they had
be justified was by being propagandized as insulted. As a result, understandably, the
being a battle of liberation. The problem of raw hatred seethed.
the future was that dividing lines had been
drawn between national demographic Soldiers returning from the battlefield
bodies of the population. This effort was who were informed of the travesty that
intentional being that these divisions could their families and property had experi-
agitated for the purpose of compelling indi- enced, were ready to strike back at the
viduals to move one way on an issue or the perpetrators. Their ranks filled the broken
next, or even compelling them against one paramilitary forces of the wartime home-
another. guard. With random crime still in progress,
these community forces provided the badly
There was more that had led the na- needed security, and rode out with a new
tion to the point where it presently stood.

115

Adelaide Literary Magazine

vengeance in pursuit of the perpetrators. developed during the second World War and
With increasing effectiveness, by 1875 purchased by the military needed testing.
these loose nit security forces merged into The Korean war didn’t last long enough due
the three primary organizations for the pur- to the effectiveness of American troops, so
pose of providing a more effective service the war in Vietnam was simply dragged out
to communities, one of which is still alive by the high command, upon an increasing ef-
and well to this very day. fectiveness of US troops, until the conclusive
statistics, comparisons, the effectiveness of
Five years after the ten year period of weapons, troops, and chemicals measured
martial law had ended, the two warring down on the ground.
demographics imposed partition laws for-
bidding any sort of social interaction. These Other reasons for US troops fighting
laws would stand as inviolable for eighty on the ground were to feign the sugges-
years, while a bitter vendetta war ensured tion into the minds of US citizens, that the
for the criminal behavior condoned and US government was against Communism,
conducted during the first great Civil War. when in reality it was embraced with wide
Something else began to stir the citizens of open arms behind closed doors. Body bags
the day some eighty years later. with friends and family arriving in national
communities on a daily basis also provided
Some eighty years following the first a cruel distraction to the citizens at large,
Civil War, the Communists schemed to take from the true reality of a social-communist
over this freeborn land of the free. Their national conquest.
forces merged with the political party who
once had been exterminated from the halls In addition to the distraction of battle,
of congress. By doing this, the once dead body bags, and human bodies arriving
political party of the people, was given new home in pieces, one demographic has been
life. At the top end of the political spectrum, motivated into an uprising, with this moti-
a back door embrace was made between vation soaked heavily in appeal to emotion
the congress, who supported the corpora- resulting from a mythologized past and
tion and the central bank with no checks present offense from the opposing demo-
and balances; and national leadership, out graphic. Underneath this great distraction
side of a few well meaning voices in the was packaged a heavy socialized agenda
dark wilderness. intending to transform the entire national
character from one of an individual en-
At the same time, two vicious wars terprise system into a collectivist system,
were engaged where the citizens on the where all business is conducted through
ground were informed that the purpose of large corporations who were married with
both conflicts was to halt the communist government.
advance on the earth. We were told that
the Russians were moving to take over the The problem of the time that would
world, when in reality since they were our most certainly transcend into much larger
allies, they were only recapturing territory problems of the future, was one of property
that they had lost during the first World War. ownership rights, especially rights where
an individual could profit from trading the
In the case of the first two wars mentioned, products of his own property, and service
the real story was that new technology who he damn well pleased in the process.

116

Revista Literária Adelaide

If an individual was allowed to conduct his and corporations had been labeled as the
own business, then he would not submit to greatest fleecing of national citizens ever to
the next great theft of private resources. occur in history.

As time passed, the checks and balances Problems inside the present day arrived
on corporations were removed. In addition, when one half of the population had been
when corporations has purloined an indi- swayed by the propaganda demanded that
vidual’s right to engage in his own business corporations and government support
through petitioning his conjunctiva represen- the masses, and the other half demanded
tatives to regulate the right away, they then that they be allowed to acquire property,
demanded that any person seeking employ- manage this property as they saw fit, and
ment verify his ability to give journey level utilize the proceeds therefrom to the ben-
works and services over to the benefit of efit of their own families and their enter-
the corporation. This vitrifaction was made prise businesses. This was the true way of
by the individual attending some sort of uni- life for freeborn citizens founded on consti-
versity financed by the central bank, unto tutional values and individual liberty.
which he was heavily indebted for his entire
working life. This crime amounted to the first The check had been removed from the
great nation wide sin against the citizen base. president declaring himself an absolute
authority. All that was needed now was
Once this verification had been made, a motivation of the two political ideolo-
when the individual finally secured em- gies to clash, and the presidential call for
ployment, the individual seeking employ- a national emergency could be justified at
ment went in at an apprentice level clas- the top end of the system. Once the pres-
sification labeled with a carefully selected idential call for a national emergency had
euphemism, for apprentice level pay. The been made, in the stroke of a pen martial
corporation also demanded that they retain law would then be implemented, and rule
the right to give raises based on their own of law based on hard facts be replaced by
criterion, and at their own whim. Such was political inquisition based on irrational as-
the second sin nation wide sin against the sumption and opinion. More important
citizen base. to the central bank and corporations, the
entire privately held resource base would
This development was also the method then instantly be handed over to the gov-
utilized by the corporations to compel citi- ernment, who could then turn around and
zens into handing them their best labor, in sell it back down to corporations for virtual
exchange for a return as near to nothing as pennies on the dollar. This specified end re-
was possible to give. What was even more sult was what the entire negative situation
damning was the fact that all of these de- was about any way, the government and
mands occurred at the same time the cor- corporations wanted everything it was that
porations were sending the production base the people owned, and they demanded the
offshore, seeking to obtain production at a right to enslave the people.
minimum of labor costs, the average citizen
could starve to death, as far as both the cor- Somehow the leftist just couldn’t see
poration or the government was concerned. it. John and a number of others had spent
This crime exerted against the citizens by hours pondering the question, now there
a conspiring union between government was nothing remaining to ponder. The battle

117

Adelaide Literary Magazine

between left and right had raged for more yards away, and the fighting had once been
than nine months now. The most fierce fierce down below, trapping himself and the
fighting had been done in the southern half others inside. He was now down to nine
of the nation, but many of the large cities Guinea Pigs, and about the same number
inside the other half were in raging flames. of jars filled with preserved vegetables.

In the northern half of the nation, the Every now and then, officials from his
tone of the battle held to politics for the lon- military legion would make their way to-
gest duration. In the southern half, almost ward the hills base, where he would meet
instantly the fight have deteriorated from them for further instruction. He might be
being one of political motivation, into a payed in coin, but more than likely it would
seething, raging, racial conflagration. Death, be commodities of one sort or another.
crime of every sort, terror, and atrocity was When he would return to his cave commu-
the rule of the day. nity, the crying faces of children would meet
his own shriveled, starving, body.
John expected the negative situation to
continue for at least another nine months, “Please, we need food. What do you have?
based on a prior study of other similar situa- What can we do? We need food, please sir!,”
tions throughout the world in recent history. they would cry.
For this reason, he had carefully selected a
limestone cave high up on a mountaintop. In huge gatherings they would walk with
When he made it to the top, and had pick- both hands held out toward him, pleading in
axed his dwelling cave out, he was shocked their mud covered rags meant to be clothes.
that he already had neighbors, and more There was nothing else left for them to wear.
than a few. Many people of all political ide- As he walked through, an idea suddenly
ologies had decided to call this place home, struck him. He walked back into his cave to-
and had picked out their own cave holes. ward the fire place, taking a Guinea Pig and
Most of the caves were connected, and con- his standard sized cast iron wok out into the
sisted of entire families. yard area. He stooped down, digging a hole,
then filling it with dried sticks as he struck a
The caves were positioned in two large flint and steel to light it. The children rushed
hills, with a flat area between them. The lo- over toward him.
cals called this area their yard. All of these
people were self sufficient, but the po- “Food!,” they all loudly cried. “This man
tential danger from venturing outside had has food!”
caused every person to remain in hiding.
In the distance John could hear the crying A few of them attempted to grab the
of babies and small children, revealing the Guinea pig before he began to even prepare
fact that hunger was beginning to settle in it for cooking.
among the residents.
“Listen to me,” spoke John. “I have this
Even John’s rations were beginning to Guinea Pig. Do any of you have any thing,
run low. He had managed to carry his cage anything at all to put into this pot?”
of Guinea pigs from his old home site, into
the cave for livestock. He fed them from his “I know where I can get an onion,” spoke
garden plot, but that was several hundred a very dirty boy with no front teeth.

“Great,” replied John, “go fetch that for
the pot.

118

Revista Literária Adelaide

“I know where I can get some rutabagas,” and with a bit more effort seven turnips,
spoke a smiling girl with dirty hair who was one guinea pig, a handful of beans, and
covered with abscesses of some type. one onion, just might feed fifty children to-
morrow,” spoke John. “Say your prayers to
“Outstanding,” replied John, “go find all of the ancient one on high, that it will be so!”
these things and bring them here to the pot.
I have the water, the salt and the pepper.” The differing political ideologies
abounding throughout the cave complex
By the time that the fire was finally going had become increasingly tense as the days
well, the pot had been filled and was sitting prior had passed. In the beginning, when
on a flat rock inside a glowing bed of coals. the first group had entered into the lime-
The children could hardly wait, the expres- stone mountain area, they were all seeking
sions of leaping joy was written all over their refuge for their families, close friends, and
faces. associates. The fierce fighting going on
abroad outside the area, then the fighting
“Always remember this fact of living,” eventually encompassing the foot of the
spoke John to the children, “if we share and mountain, had been a subtle shock to all of
work together, we can all live relatively well the residents, who continued to live unno-
and survive. Should one give in to the forces ticed by either side.
of greed and self centrality, then he will do
so to the detriment of the entire group. The What had really struck the hearts of the
concluding consequence will be that we all residents was the flagrant viscous brutality
shall perish” of this conflict between the forces of left
and right. Not only that, there were fre-
When the soup finally finished making, quent signs that the nature of this new Civil
each child grabbed a bowl scrounged from War was turning into a fight between de-
the burnt out houses far below, then dipped mographic groups. What has disturbed the
with both scrounged and gourd dippers, citizens of the limestone caves most of all,
until their peck bowls were half full. When was the outright murder of children who
the last child had taken his bowl full, then resided within these demographics. Many
John dipped in to retrieve his own measure times horrible acts were committed without
for the day. Strangely enough, everyone prior provocation, intending to install fear;
felt completely nourished by the time their such as amputation of limbs, kidnapping
dinner was finished. the young for use as livestock and canni-
balistic consumption, slaves of every sort
“Now isn’t that just amazing. There are and variety, along with many other horrors.
what, maybe fifty of you here? Has not ev- When discovery was made by the residents
eryone now taken his fill? Allow this experi- of this tragedy on the ground below, and
ence to be a lesson in generosity. How much specifically who it was that the perpetra-
more time is left before the fighting passes tors were, the formerly peaceful residents
from our area?,” asked John. of the limestone caves were beginning to
take sides.
“I don’t know,” replied one of the children,
“there might be nine days or at most eigh- Already the demographic who was the
teen, some of the elders have told us earlier. former majority, was gradually beginning to
gain an upper hand. The locals called them
“See what you have around you and bring
it here tomorrow evening at this same time;

119

Adelaide Literary Magazine

The Children Of The Light. There had been other vast populations of the enemy sit-
great suffering among this demographic ting far away from the war zone were sur-
in the initiative due to their hesitation in rounded and isolated while the general
launching acts of violence. In the beginning slaughter was occurring, with manufac-
a majority residents of the limestone had tured diseases being released in among
assumed alliance to their cause, prompted them killing masses with a terrifying silence
by feelings of sympathy due to the rate of that was deadly effective. Sometimes the
horrible suffering observed by the residents. disease was used to soften up an enemy, we
were informed, then military ground forces
While the Children Of The Light were sent in finish off the dirty work of slaugh-
slow to anger and willing to assume a cer- tering the helpless survivors.
tain amount of abuse, there was a limit, and
they had already reached their limit with Because of this observed horror, people
their opposition, known by the locals as The in the limestone cave community were
Forces Of Darkness. Rather react due to the taking sides. Many heated verbal conflicts
motivation of raw emotion, the Children Of had already occurred, but skilled negotia-
The Light tended to act based on calculated tors who lived among them had managed
strategy. For this reason, even though in to neutralize any issues before verbal con-
many instances they were vastly out num- flict transformed into violence, people were
bered, they were gaining the upper hand in harmed, then families would seek revenge.
a vast broad area. Once they knew that the
ability to resist had been eliminated from Inside the sunset of evening, the starving
the opposing forces, their strategic objec- mass of children met inside the yard area,
tive was total elimination. with a few dropping his meager gifts of veg-
etables, fruit, and if the day proved lucky,
The children of the opposing forces were a bit of meat. With only a few handfuls in
literally herded up, housed in pens like live- many instances, the entire mass was always
stock, then slaughtered and sold back to fed. As the days passed, the small serv-
their own people residing in areas beyond ings had increased into a slightly growing
the battle parameters. The idea was to amount.
gain confidence of the enemy by feigning
friendship and concern since starvation was Talk had commenced to buzz around
so ramped, so that that huge groups could the limestone cave community, John had
be manipulated into vulnerable positions, noticed. The general feeling conveyed from
eliminate them at the same time by feeding this speech was that this mass meeting
them their own people who had been led to before the wok in the evenings projected
believe that they were consuming pork, and a calming feeling of tranquility, since for
insult them in the process even though they some strange reason it was noticed that all
had yet to figure out what was happening. convictions of animosity were cast aside
When one population had been systemat- during this time. What was even more ex-
ically eliminated, their land and resources citing to John, was the fact that older teens
occupied, then at the same time another and adults of varying ages were meeting in
vast population was being courted. the evening to stand before the wok. Each
person brought in his own meager share,
According to scouts on the ground who and the food bank was growing! Now the
were willing to offer recorded accounts, serving could increase.

120

Revista Literária Adelaide

Since the food bank was growing, with “Dear Lord above, please allow your
the same mass of people could meet to soothing warmth to envelope us, as does
greet the rise of the sun in to both take the nurturing spirit of peace upon each and
breakfast and bow in humble beseech to every body standing here before you today.
the Lord Of The Universe for a reestablish- May a new paradise of absolute peace and
ment of peace to the region. John could perfect contentment take the place of this
now act as chief priest to the Lord God Oh dark travesty in which we presently have no
High. Soon a new pedestal had been dis- choice but to dwell, Amen and Amen.”
covered for the wok constructed from sur-
rounding stone in the shape of an L, covered In the looming distance suddenly the low
by an insulating mound of earth. This L was thumping “poof” of mortar fire was heard
positioned in the yard on the eastern side, from multiple, followed by the thunder
with a great forested plain beyond as a back of an exploding round somewhere on the
drop. Into the lower opening of the L small horizon. The rat-a-tat-tat of fifty caliber ma-
handfuls of twigs were placed. chine gun fire seemed to blossom out all
over from every side. Even the screams of
With the wok standing upon the stove troops shattered by casualty was discerned
before him, and the great plain behind him, by these unscathed residents of The Cornu-
he stood in salutation to the masses on the copia. The masses continued to stand rigidly,
opposite side, cooking the soup and timing facing the rising sun, in spite of their own
it so that he could serve with the rise of the potential for casualty as they face the open
sun. When the sun finally crept up on the there on a mountain top, high above a for-
distant horizon, he would raise both hands ested plain below.
as he faced the masses before him.
Though John could never figure out how,
“Allow this day of new beginning to be stragglers from below soon found their way
one of seeking to preserve all peace. Forget onto the mountain top. At first they were
about personal prosperity at this time, pros- greeted with suspicion, but upon their con-
perity will assume with the resurrection of viction of brotherhood for the group, these
peace. Allow each meager gift, no matter people were eventually allowed to assume
how trivial, contribute to what will climax membership into The Cornucopia. Every
into a splendid glory.” morning and afternoon John would stand to
greet the group with both arms raised high
With both hands still raised, he turned to in anticipation of their blessed greeting.
face the rising sun.
Eventually an incense of anointing had
“Repeat after me, my fellow brothers been crafted from the bark of wild juniper,
here inside our Cornucopia Of Plenty, please. sassafras, and beech bark. This mixture was
Our dear father, whose divine throne sits in both infused as a tea for sprinkling, and
heaven above, cause your glory to give light used in dry form as a divine incense. Be-
unto this dark secular world in which we all side the wok was constructed two incense
dwell. Please forgive us for our insults unto altars, with the L shaped altar of sacrifice
you, dear Lord; then oh dear Lord, please containing the wok. While the morning de-
allow us to possess the courage to forgive votion was given, the incense of anointing
all of the insults dished out by one another was passed around so that each member of
among our own. this growing group could sprinkle himself

121

Adelaide Literary Magazine

for the purpose of purification. In the back- duty is allotted only to the high priest of O
ground loomed the sound of artillery and Ilios Patéras Mas. The holy law has hereby
small arms, but to what was observed in- been established and recorded for all time
creasingly as being a decreasing intensity. hence forth inside our holy codex. Does it
not say, that one day is as thirty, hence eigh-
John raised both hands, facing the teen days is equaled to 540, which calcu-
masses standing before him. lates to one year and a half? Now we know
the secret of our long suffering.”
“Oh my fellow brethren, please allow this
horrible specter of war to pass far from us. As the people walked passed he would
We were told by our elders that it would toss a sprinkle of the anointing tea upon
only last nine days or possibly eighteen. We them, lay his right hand upon their shoulder,
have accomplished much inside a span of then say:
time that seems like months, rather than
days. Even as I speak our ranks are growing “Blessed be you in the name of the Lord,
with devotees, who are both enraptured who is aware of our presence even as I
and captivated by the spirit of peace. As al- speak these words. Receive your divine
ways, my fellow brethren, observe that our blessing in his name, for only I am the truth
precious life giving wok still provides nour- and the way. Look, he is the light! No person
ishment for all, with only a single serving. receives him that has not first received my
When we began we had only fifty, then we blessing. Blessed by the name of him on
grew to one hundred, now at this present high!”
moment we have counted two hundred.
Oh how can this be? Praise be unto the god By the time the morning ceremonies
of peace above!,” he would say while he had been completed, the meal of the wok
turned as the sun broke the horizon before had completed it’s preparation. Not only
them. were the thousand fed with a single serving,
there was more food banked in abundance
By the forth day from the time of the than one could have ever imagined. No
altar of sacrifice being constructed, the vio- longer would any person ever again suffer
lence that broke the stillness of the morning malnutrition of starvation there was plenty
had ceased, and the crowd without had in abundance.
swelled into a thousand people. John again
stood before the masses in greetings and The numbers of ragged, dirty, starving
collective salutation to the rising sun. converts continued to pour in, but an as-
tonishing spirit of compassion and eternal
“Praises be to the glory of the sky! Our brotherhood appeared to have settled
ranks have swelled even more, the violence upon the throngs of followers. No longer
has ceased, and our health is being restored. was the sound of battle heard, only an end-
Praise be to him on high!” less buzz of devotees pouring into the cave
yard complex, and very eager to hear the
John reached down with his right hand, re- story of god on high. John stood before the
trieving a quart sized vile, then holding it high. mass of people with both hands raised high
in evening address.
“Pass before me, my dear brethren, and
receive your blessed anointment of divine “The holy spirit of O Ilios Patéras Mas
aloe, which I and I alone can give, since that has made his address unto me last night. I

122

Revista Literária Adelaide

beheld his presence inside the vapor of in- “Blessed be the name of him on high, my
cense as I consumed the sacred drink of the fellow brethren. I beseech all of you to pray
gods. He is coming to take me, and soon, that today be the commencement of his di-
though I shall remain with you in spirit. vine kingdom on earth. May both his name
With my mortal taking, then shall our divine and the spirit of peace reign for all eternity.
rule of peace be eternal. I was informed Let us sing praises to the glory of god on
that it could occur at any moment. When high!”
that moment arrives, rejoice, for eternity is
yours for the taking! Blessed be the words The people then sang the sacred song of
his majesty on high!” beseech for the establishment of his heav-
enly kingdom on earth, and soon. Soon the
When the dusk of morning arrived, John sun peeked above the distant horizon in the
assumed his position with his face toward back ground, eventually revealing his head
the magic wok and the throngs who gath- as the body of John, the high priest, turned
ered about. The stove was lit, the water in greeting. In the lone distance a gun shot
carefully poured into the pot, the blessed rang out from far below, and the body of
food placed inside. As the people assumed the high priest crumbled upon the natural
their rightful positions, the hands of john pedestal of stone behind the magic wok,
raised high greetings. and the huge throngs beyond.

About the Author

Lynn Dowless is an academic instructor stateside and
abroad. He has been a writer for over thirty years. He
enjoys researching controversial nonfictional topics, and
writing fiction of a variety. He has numerous publishing
credits. His latest publishing successes include two volumes
of historical research with Algora Publishing, and a host o
fictional success stories with literary journals, magazines,
and publishing companies all without the past year. These
journals, magazines, and publishing companies include, but
are not limited to.; Leaves Of Ink, The fear Of Monkeys, Short
Story Lovers, CC&D Magazine, Frontier Tales, The Scarlet Leaf
Publishing Company, WIPF and Stock Publishers.

123

OH MADELINE

by Lynn Dowless

The rhythmic melody of the seductive si- destination, the legs ambled forward as
rens’ whispering chant rode upon the mid- though going by their own free will, in ab-
day wind. Inviting, enticing, hexing, seizing sence of the mind. The hands may grasp and
hold of mortal mind, invading the very railings, the arms may wrap the light stands,
heart, and capturing the very soul. It was a but the allure grows with more intensity..,
low whisper, it was at first, then it increased and the eyes inform the mind of this new
in it’s gradual volume, until the very curiosi- direction.., in absence of the permission of
ty aroused, and one’s resistance to it dulled the mind. Soon the song grows in volume
just as gradual. and intensity until every sound that the ears
behold is of an eerie haunting beckoning.
This rhythm continued in perpetuity; en-
ticing, hexing mesmerizing, and there was The eyes behold the sidewalk path that
no escape into the secular world about. In- leads toward an ancient two story brick
deed, no matter where the physical body home, that eerily spoke of wealth and glory
raced to find solitude, there was none. Be it somewhat faded. The feet then transport
down the street, into the cellar, into the se- the body forward to the direction in the
cluded closet, behind closed doors of one’s song of the siren. Slowly they enter into
fortress walls; behold, even into deep, most the threshold, now into the foyer, and the
dark, and dreary woods, there was no es- eyes behold the large extravagant upward
cape! The chanting rhythmic song sang on winding wooden staircase. The hands feel
the very wind, breathed into the heaving and grasp the railing as the feet slowly..,
lungs, enticing, motivating, employing the ever so slowly.., slink their way upward to-
brain, the legs, the arms.., until there was ward the rhythm of the haunting chant..,
no resistance.. Here, on this very page I that spellbinding, rhythmic chant that pulls
shall declare, any desire to fight was literally even at the very heart and soul. Slowly..,
vacuumed from pit of the very soul! ever so gently.., they walk.., one foot in
front of the other.., until they take that last
The legs were then forced, compelled step onto the ancient creaking heartwood
beyond imagination, to move into a forced floor of a candle lit hallway.
direction with the same compulsion that
a magnet bears when near the opposing Now the force of the song, the force of
end of another. Even in-spite of the very the melody, was so intense, so heavy, that
imagination desiring the body at a specific any resistance was out of mind, no thoughts

124

Revista Literária Adelaide

of such anywhere near. The eyes beheld a form.., that developed to the rhythm of the
door ajar in the sacred distance, and the chanting, hexing song of the nymph..; soon
ears could perceive the melodious song, bore a chilling face, a face of intrepid evil,
that chanting, melodious rhythm so vigor- of wisdom but for the purpose of forever
ously pulling the limbs forward. The very incarcerating those poor weeping souls of
heart raced with an intensity as though it the damned.
desired to leap from it’s very seat inside the
breast. The mind energetically attempted to The heart raced harder and faster, the
overpower the attraction of the song, the hands dripped with ice cold sweat, then
hands seized hold of the railing tugging the mind and the legs desired a magnificent
body backwards, now backwards toward swift escape..; but now a strange curiosity
the staircase; but the might of the song al- compelled the body to simply stay put, for
ways prevailed.., yes it always prevailed.., the eyes wished to observe, in order that
until the body found itself standing before the mind might give divine interpretation.
the door.., yes, that very door! The heart
raced with tremendous intensity, to the The apparition then slowly turned it’s
point that the breath heaved, causing the dark head until it’s face met the concealed
mind to feel as though the it would cease eyes at the door. It’s face was of a horrid
and the body grow limp. description, so dreadful that the eyes could
not bear to see, and flowing tears welled up
The sweating trembling hands gingerly to conceal the face that stood before them.
nudged the door, and the door silently.., This baneful face had a mouth, a mouth that
thankfully silently.., eased open, allowing cracked into a smile, a smile that betrayed
the eyes to behold the specter of a conjuring the fact that it had forced the feeble body
nymph as she whispered her chanting song of an unfortunate mortal to propel the soul
that rode forth on the heavenly wind. She forward into it’s clutches. There was no es-
sat about in a long sable satin dress upon a cape, no where to hide, and now the body
large lace covered canopy adorned feather stood before that evil one, that nefarious
bed mattress, gazing into a bronze hand mist of perdition, of Beelzebub and those
held mirror, gently caressing a solid gold legions of the damned.
crucifix that she bore on a chain of emerald
and gold about her pallid neck. As she spoke The mouth parted, for those forces of
into the mirror, she moved her hands about evil had compelled the heart to love, to
the crucifix in a caressing, loving stroke of fall into the forces of adoration beyond all
compulsion.., as though she were speaking mortal knowledge and comprehension.
unto an unseen presence.
“Madeline,” whispered the voice from
The eyes then beheld a vapor, a somber within the breast, yea, that fearful trem-
mist, that rose forth from the crucifix into bling voice. But her ears heard not, and her
the mirror, then moved forth from the mind made no response to acknowledg-
mirror into the room surrounding. The ment of the body’s existence as it stood by
mist, this haunting hideous mist.., then as- the door. The mouth parted once again.
sumed the shape of an apparition whose
form the eyes soon beheld, and the mind “Madeline!,” but still no response, just
comprehended. The form..,this human the chanting rhythm into the black stone
mirror, a stone that was encased in solid
brass. Her melodious chanting song still

125

Adelaide Literary Magazine

enticing the soul into her somber entwine neck, as her feet seemed to glide toward
as the mind beheld the vision of a greatly the gently opening door. Softly, ever so
anticipated embrace. softly, her glittering satin dress gently glided
from her breasts, now gliding upon her hips,
“Madeline!,” whispered the voice from and finally onto the floor at her gentle feet.
the lips and the heaving breast, even though Her totally nude body eased it’s way into
the demon of enchantment still stood before the embrace of the mortal, who now stood
the body, only to smile it’s smile of successful in the opened doorway.
capture, it’s eternal grasp of mortal soul.
The door now closed by itself behind
Still no response, no hint of knowledge him, this mortal, and his lips hungrily em-
that the nymph was aware of the body that braced those lipstick covered lips born by
stood concealed behind the door. That be- that wanton angel of the damned. His heart
fouled nymph, that hazed, damned, jaded now knew no resistance, the lure of her
bewitching nymph; but the mind was inno- poison was that of the luscious belladonna
cent.., innocent of any judgment and the rose; the euphoria, the phantasm and thrill
desire thrust upon it born from the might of the moment.., in spite of the demon’s
of the demon.., and the lust of the flesh. continuing presence. The eyes of the mortal
gazed about, but the demon had vaporized
The lust of the flesh now blinded those and the mind sought to push the facts of
mortal eyes, and the wisdom to discern what it so clearly beheld into the closet of
that lay within the depths of the mind. The deep repression. This nymph, this befouled
might of scorned desire now swelled within scorned angel of the damned, singing her
the breast.., the increased racing of the mesmerizing song, compelling his feet and
heart, the sweating of the hands, and the his heart forward into her tainted embrace.
tainted sweat of the arms that stained and
corrupted the silk shirt of the body.. She spoke of love, behold, she spoke of
commitment; she spoke only of her soul
“Madeline!,” sharply whispered the covenant with him, her forsaking of the
parting lips on the wind, but now with more past and all others with it! In the mind of
compulsion, more desire. She rose from the the mortal he knew that simply by being
bedside, her body turning toward the one in that very place he was sealing his own
who stood behind the door; her eyes now fate, the fate of his future, the fate even
meeting those eyes, her pale face and blood of his parent’s contentment and joy, that
red lips smiled.., a beckoning smile of lucid elderly joy of completion and fulfillment..;
compelling desire. Her breath blew her en- but he could not resist the euphoria.., that
chanted whisper into a stirring wind having carnal ecstasy.., the thrill that he at times
no discernible source. so craved and never totally satisfied. Not
so much the thrill of disobeying the rules
“Christopher!.” of the preordained, but the thrill of experi-
ence, the thrill of just living the mortal’s life
The spoken name seemed to echo in a secular world, and simply making the
throughout the contours of the home. best out of it.

Her mind knew not nor cared not about Her house was a nest of impaired an-
the demon who once stood before her, nor gelic bliss, of nymphs uninhibited, of those
did it recall her beckoning the forces of
darkness. Her pallid hands rose toward her

126

Revista Literária Adelaide

whom were eternally damned, but lived nebulous embrace, that wicked apparition
the sacred bliss of ignorance. That dreaded had vanished once more again. His task was
phantom, that angel of death, had seized well done, our infinite fate was perfectly se-
up her father on the very day of her birth.., cured into his clutch.
or at least the one whom she was told had
conspired to give her birth. In the holy temple she spoke of saintly
acts, giving chastisement unto those of
Her mother knew no limitations, had whom had so blatantly violated the sacred
made no commitments, and contented regulations of the preordained. Her lips
herself in the trance of roborant herbs and spoke only of acts in the name of kindness,
fruitless pondering. She sold the herb of the in the sacred name of holiness, betraying no
ancients, and the pleasures of the flesh for defilement in the company of secular men.
a healthy farthing of gold, or necklace of Those among the holy delighted in her pres-
precious pearl, ring of gem or diamond dec- ence..,as she hugged the children.., as she
orate’. She bore no limitations, and so those spoke kind words unto the diseased elderly,
of whom had delighted in her company and those of whom humanity both ignored
were compelled to repeat the enchantment, and despised.
that cheer filled tingle of a crying delight.
Behold, she did give homage unto the
The crash of the clear sapphire beach, holy cross, curtsying, bowing in humble sac-
the cool rise of heavenly smokey hollows, rilege, kissing, caressing that most sacred of
the taste of the virgin agave, was all theirs books, while singing hymns of praise unto
simply by the asking; the sands of warm is- the glorious one on high. In daylight among
land shores.., all for the simple asking and the mortals she did praise with ardor and
with no hesitations. Yes.., the demon was a solemn vigor, clutching that most holy of
skillful trapper! holy books with her right hand..; and with
the drop of the sun, that dreaded demon of
All the while she whispered of love and the damned in her left, who freely offered
eternal adoration, that befouled jaded her his own instruction for her part to play
nymph from tarnished mansion glory. All in his diabolical stratagem.
around were mesmerized, hypnotized by
the power of her spell. The glitter of her Our walks facing the rising sun gave lim-
gold silenced any who knew the truth, and itless delight as we strolled about near sand
intimidated any of whom attempted to in- and sea, speaking of glory found in the past,
quire. and of our pleasure in ambition toward the
future. We both had our plans, and our de-
By a flowing riverside we walked for signs were to merge as one, each benefactor
hours, speaking of time well spent, of fu- unto the other, giving encouragement when
ture plans. My mind attempted to chastise there was none to be found, offering new
my heart and my poor soul, but my heart life to perishing aims when it seemed that
would never listen to the urgent warning.., there was no longer hope.
though the demon appeared right beside us,
giving us his shadowy blessing. Though my As we lay face to face on those distant
eyes beheld it, but only to compel my mind sands of our hearts delight, each gazing
to push it inside a repressed closet once deeply into the other’s soul; with that
again. When my eyes glanced up from our spirit of discovered fortune seizing the lacy

127

Adelaide Literary Magazine

boundaries of her soul.., and that dreaded and my body, my dear heart and soul, knew
demon of misfortune and despair seizing no retreat, only my mind was left to yell. But
mine. Oh how sly he was indeed, so sly that my feet traveled anyway, my hand grasped
I was to never know until the last.., that very her plush hand, graciously taking it unto my
last when all was lost to timeless perpetuity. bosom as we twain ambled down that time-
less blessed aisle!
Oh, that angelic nymph, Madeline, thou
enchanting fairy of my soul, thou grasping Soon we stood before the masses, facing
child of perceived innocence, thou trickster the majestic elder who gave us his honored
unto the masses untold. Though my mind dedication as we stood before the eternal
is embroiled in a colossal struggle with my spirit receiving his permission, anticipating
body, still I try with all my might..! I cannot that he will only touch us as we speak the
resist, I cannot win, my fortune is doomed venerated vow. She donned the trailing
to lay among those lost. Behold, there is white of cherished purity.., she dared to
only this fleeting moment! I hold it, and don the coveted veil of chastity.. She gazed
only it, in my perpetual cringing grasp. Let forward into my very eyes, promising to
all the earth here me as I speak these word honor her words for all eternity. She stood
of conviction forward into the wind. She is before the masses speaking her forlorn
mine, oh Madeline, and I have her here.., words of honor and total commitment, and
right now.! they standing as her enduring witnesses.

On that blustery wind came the gifts So I placed that golden ring upon her
from venerates untold. There was fine wine, finger.., that eternal endless bind, only to
splendid bourbon, silk, lace, and satin. My symbolize our commitment and the pledge
senses tingle from the spell of frankincense, of our hallowed cherished oath. She was
myrrh, tincture of opiates, brass, and elegant mine, eternally mine, and we sealed our
necklace timepieces of gold. Unto Madeline, pact with that fatal kiss, that kiss of im-
thou saint of the moonlight still, only to be mortal commitment, both in body, mind,
betrayed by the light of the day.. But of thee and in soul.
I love all still.., in-spite of thy jading taint..,
in-spite of the demon by your bedside.., that We rode away into bliss, into sancti-
demon of the damned who seeks to plunder fied euphoria, into the arms of each other,
my life and my soul, binding me into the across the deep blue sea into hidden en-
raging fires for all future posterity! Behold, chanted lands afar. We chose a chateau on
thou Madeline, my mind knows thy secret a lone hillside by the sea as our abode, in-
plot, but my enchanted heart embraces tending there to dwell in endless harmony.
thou still.., never to let go, not even by a
pleading mother’s beckoning call. The days turned into nights, and the new
days into weeks and months, and soon our
It was on the dreary twenty third of De- joys were multiplied by the happy cry of our
cember, I so distinctly remember, that we new son. He was all of my joy and my pride
made our way unto that decor-ant rose cov- rolled up tightly into a single unit; my true
ered temple. It was immaculate, the blooms love, my eternal life, and hers alike. Yea, our
of holy spring time filled the majestic air joys were like none other to be told, there
with their life giving sweet scents. The spell simply exists no true picture that any mortal
was cast, that bedeviled die now tossed; words can describe.

128

Revista Literária Adelaide

Oh Madeline.., it has now been seven Oh my Madeline, what has thou now
long years, and where is your heart today? done? You have forced me to act in honored
In the disgusting arms of the demon, is it he vengeance, to restore the sacred virtue of
of whom has always held you in his sway? family and name, and that of our son as well.
Oh my dearest Madeline, what about our These walls have witnessed the act, behold,
time together, our travels, adventures, and and the spirits bear our horrible secret to
our good times? What about those bad tell. Oh Madeline, the choice that you left
times that life is so wrought with, when we me was to forgo it, and to my melancholy
stood by each other to give strength and mortal despair, the truth you’ll never tell.
counsel when they came our way? What
about our son, our glorious son, who bears As the midnight sky streaked with
a head of flowing gold and the wisdom of sapphire fire, as a distant thunder rolles
the gods? I drudgingly pulled her corpse into the
nearby wood, into that most secret of brush
Hark ye, now.., my mind knows thy se- enshrouded clearings. I then proceeded
cret lusts yearned for in the solitude of the to slice the flesh from the bone, then the
twelfth striking. I saw thy treasured gifts.., bone from the ligaments. I completed the
the gold watch, the satin clothes, and the dreadful act in some thirty minutes, or
host of Teddy bears! Though my heart re- maybe even less. Just as soon as the deed
fuses my eyes, my mind can still behold the was completed those grunting feral pigs
truth.., Oh Madeline! Must you sell yourself came a running, hungrily ravishing all of the
to the wealthy.., no? No you did not, your bloody flesh and the bone. Soon, not even
betrayal was in the very worst of ways! I the earth itself bore no trace.
know the filthy beggar.. I beheld his repul-
sive sable arms in your embrace! May all But the dismal months passed.., and
the demons of perdition forever enchain I hold not Madeline, no not in honor nor
him into the bowls of an endless furnace! disgrace. Oh Madeline, what hast thou
You never knew I was there, did you? Oh now done, to go from here forever into
Madeline, you not only betrayed my faith, infinite dishonor and disgrace? How could
but what about the faith of our son? Did you cause such pain to our dear son? Did
you not ever consider him? you not even consider how this might af-
fect him? I now damn you into eternal flame
My hands opened the sacred book and and degradation. Be consumed by your sins
my eyes beheld the honored instruction, forever more!
my mind then knew just what it had to do.
My feet walked up, my face now smiling it’s They then came for me. My ears beheld
smooth emotionless smile. My hands then their heavy knocks. My heart raced when
seized her by her sallow throat without they rammed in my solid oaken door. They
warning, from some unknown avenue sprang have found me, I know not how. Did the pigs
that cherished blade.., that ever so thin a tell? Did some slight speck of blood on the
cherished blade...! Mine eyes never beheld forest floor? Did the spirits who witnessed
the act, but my bare legs felt the steamy heat the crime? Mine eyes beheld the blue of
of her oozing blood as it ran down my right their dress. My wrists felt the clasping bite
thigh, only to puddle upon the ice cold stone of their cuffs.., and they snatched me away
floor beneath my bared feet. into that swirling somber mist, casting my
quivering body upon the cold stone floor

129

Adelaide Literary Magazine

of my dungeon tomb, as an infernal wind scratching, itching loop of hemp, mine eyes
howled and a distant macabre thunder beheld that wicked demon who had engi-
rolled. neered this diabolical scheme, and my ears
perceived his heavy roaring laugh imme-
So today I stand tall here on a towering diately before I plunged into a bottomless
scaffold of new oak, awaiting my turn at void. Oh Madeline.., just what hast thou
the fall, as a sacrificial aubade is chanted by now done.., only to damn the flesh into the
fiendish elves to usher my wretched, quiv- dust of the earth, and the eternal soul from
ering ghost forward into a merciless rushing heaven’s radiant sun!
zephyr. As they placed my head into that

130

WATCHING

by Leandro Almeida

Have you ever gotten the feeling someone I head up the stairs and down the hall,
is watching you? Those chills down your stopping at the second door on the right. I
spine? That sense of unease, or the prick- walk into her bedroom and look around. Her
ling on your neck? Objects no longer in the bed was pushed back against the back wall,
spots you left them in? If you have not, I facing the door. Two sliding doors leading
envy you. I constantly live with these feel- to her closest, were on the left wall, and a
ings, and let it be noted. I live alone. I do small desk, with little knick knacks on it sat
not blame this on the supernatural, on the at the right corner of the room. Nothing had
contrary. I believe it to be a physical person, changed. I walk over to her closet, sliding
to be exact, my neighbor, Victoria. A short, open the door. I met with, as usual, neatly
round, blonde woman, who always finds a hung clothes, a few cardboard boxes on the
way to insert herself into my life and I into ground, and some undergarments folded
hers. Today, however, I plan to find out if on the shelf above, but now there was a
my suspicions come with reason. new addition. A shoe box labeled memo-
ries also sat on the shelf. I grab the box and
I sit by the window and watch as she place it beside me as I sit on her bed.
gets in her car and leaves for work; as she
always does. Six days a week. From nine in I open the box and find that inside con-
the morning till five in the afternoon. As tains a journal and multiple polaroids, each
soon as her car turns the street corner, I one with a label on the back. I pick up the
head out of my house and over to her front one that said first date. I turn it over to find
door. I reach into the flowerpot next to her a picture of myself sitting at a restaurant
door and grab the spare key she leaves with a woman, except her face was crossed
there. I unlock the door and walk in, taking out by a marker. The next picture was la-
a moment to look around at my surround- beled third date with a smiley face after it. I
ings. I will give her one thing. Her house turn it over. My heart skips a beat. My hand
was as clean as it could get. Her vinyl floor begins to shake, and I can no longer control
was spotless. The painting and pictures my breathing. The picture was of me and
on the wall were all centered and evenly Victoria lying in bed together, naked, as she
spaced. Not a spec of dirt to be seen on clutches my lower half in one hand. I flip
her white couch. Everything in their proper the box over, the pictures scattering on the
places and in proper order, as all things ground. Each and every one was of me. In
should be. the shower, at work, even at my parent’s

131

Adelaide Literary Magazine

house. My stomach began doing flips as I She walks over placing a hand on my chest.
look towards the journal. I open the journal “Good morning, honey. How was your nap?”
to a random page and begin reading.
I stared at her at a loss of words not
Dear Diary, Today I decided to be a knowing what to say.
good little housewife and help my husband
around his house. I washed his clothes, She lets out a slight giggle and says, “Oh,
making sure to squirt some of my love juices you must still be shocked by all the photos
on them so he can always have my sent. I and from what your read in my journal.” She
washed each of his dishes today, licking off places her hand on the spot she hit me. “I
any leftover food and giving it a good old hope I didn’t hit you too hard, to ruin that
spit shine. I also..., brain of yours.” She pulls away from me
and walks over to my closet. “Well, I don’t
The list went on and on. I cover my need you to say anything right now anyway,
mouth with my hand as tears begin to form so just listen. You and me, we are going to
in my eyes, “ This. This is be-” leave this town and go somewhere they
won’t ever find us. To where I can have
“Beautiful,” interrupts a voice from be- you all to myself. So let’s make your bag.”
hind me. She opens my closet and begins to pull out
some clothes, but stops when she sees a
I let out a gasp as I turn around to meet box labeled memories. She holds it in her
the voice, but before I manage to see who it hand. “Funny you have one of these too?
is; I feel a sharp pain against the side of my Let’s see what’s inside.” As she opens it and
head. My vision goes dark and I lose con- starts looking through each of the labeled
sciousness. polaroids and reads each of the journal en-
tries about her, her eyes grow wide.
My eyes flutter open and I find myself
staring up at the ceiling. I attempt to move, She snaps her head towards me, the
but feel the sharp pinch of the rope around look of surprise. written on her face“W-why
my wrists and ankles. I fight the throbbing are you smiling?”
pain in my head and look around noticing
I was in my bedroom. The bedroom door A sinister grin spreads across my face.
opens and I see the familiar round siluet of “I’ve been watching too. Darling.”
Victoria walk in.

About the Author
Leandro Zorzetti-De Almeida, lives in Sacramento, California and enjoys playing videos games,
playing with his dog, and reading.

132

NONFICTION



OUT HERE ONCE MORE

by Marc Toso

Here I am, out here once more, a carica- I’m driving across Utah’s great western
ture desert sage, pretending to find clarity desert, a somewhat forgotten cousin to the
in sandstone desolation. I struggle being state’s southern red rock cathedrals. Into
on this edge of barrenness, selfishly seek- the endless topography of eastern Nevada
ing purpose. Something to clutch, to hold with its yellow brown lines and oh so much
tightly, something to push away the ghosts bigness. Here highways pierce the straight
of existential purpose. That sense of utter and curl around juniper decorated moun-
senselessness. What is it all? Mingling of at- tains. High alpine snowcaps drop into thirsty
oms and molecules into brief consciousness, plains. Endless basins cloister streams from
thrashing and yelling between the doors of the sea. The breeze is a howl and prehis-
birth and death. Clutching to a blue pebble, toric lakes, abandoned by water, reflect
surrounded by such space, barely a shiver salty whiteness. Here you walk for hours
of humanity echoing outward, moving in an without going anywhere.
elliptical orbit, circling around that and then
spiraling around the bigger thing until the Then the vehicle ceases. The place
me-ness is washed out in inestimable light- pours into open windows. Winds diminish
years. A speck of sand forgotten among end- to breezes. The final dust overtakes the van,
less grains. A particulate in infinite shape- clings to my skin and settles like fine snow
lessness. There must be more than that. on seats and gear. With a turn of the key
the engine shutters quiet, sonic waves dis-
My van is clanging down another stretch solve into the atmosphere, absorbed into
of wash-board, kicking up a pale tail of mi- old earth. Outside space opens up and I
croscopic dust. Sweaty skin and camera enter the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree
gear are covered in atomized earth. Re- horizon emanating from some central in-
verberating struts. Clanging windows. Rat- distinct place.
tling skull bones. Stapes, hammer and anvil
banging away in my head. Earplugs shoved Dry wind carries off thoughts and mem-
in deep, radio on full volume. Podcasts, ories. Remembrances swirl into the blue
rock and roll, folk, a cacophony of words dome above. Here me-ness shimmers a bit
and notes sputter from the speaker. Sonic brighter, unencumbered by imposed filters.
meaning spewing out the window into the Expectations are only whispers in the skull.
desiccated nowhere. Dark pavement and Doubts murmur on veiled fringes. Noon’s
sizzling air. Hours of noise, heat, hot sun pale light shines on the desert, bleaching
and gasoline. colors dim and thinning shadows. Eyes

135

Adelaide Literary Magazine

squint and journey to pallid mountains lay- be found, a memory of a Pleistocene earth
ered near the horizon’s edge. One of the in ancient light, a snapshot of brevity and
few places to be still alone. A vain circle eternity. I want to remember the dim ra-
spins on the cell-phone. Technology is des- diance of time over the dark and original
perate for connection. layers of our planet. I think there is meaning
and purpose in this juxtaposition. Lessons
Twenty feet or so up a hill across broken and important stories. These are stories I
and blackened stone the land drops away lack the talent to tell, but stories I hope to
into a vast almost perfect circle. Hundreds share. Stories of who we are and where we
of feet deep and half a mile wide, the vol- are, a meek attempt to help remember the
canic crater’s stratified layers count terres- tales of our home and origin.
trial eons as tree-rings remember rainfall. A
scar on the earth, a remembrance of geo- Two days of sitting, watching, waiting as
logic passion, energy born deep, melting the sun travels across its arena then circles
rock via tectonic friction. Volcanos and the underside of our earth. The challenge
molten fluids churn the blood of our planet, of nothingness. Alone, sitting and watching
a glimpse into our geologic core below the the daily cycles of day and night. Wind, sun
fragile flora and animal surface. and thoughts are the sole companions.
Time is difficult, seconds stretch into long
Twenty-five thousand years ago pressure thin moments between big spaces. Pro-
escaped from this scar, and consumed the tracted moments repeatedly echo within
desert. Magma flowed, covering sage and themselves, reverberating instances. I have
rock. Millennia passed and the lava cooled, no idea how long a second, an hour or a
solidifying into to stone waves and gar- moment actually is.
goyles. Water seeped into fissures and ice
fractured its density. Seeds and soil found I wander the crater’s edge. Stumbling
homes in cracks. Slow unrelenting hydro- over rocks and feeling small under the
static strength of photosynthesis shattered dome of the sky. Simultaneously excited
and consumed the frozen lava’s mineral life. for night and foolish in my endeavors. Big
spaces and blank time breed purpose and
Gazing upwards, struggling to see doubt. Winds slowly quiet emotions to
through the sky, my eyes squint to see the faded colors of hills and stone. Three times
space beyond our atmosphere. Twenty-five I circumnavigated the crater hoping in vain
thousand years ago, solar furnaces in our to find a different angle on the circle. One
galaxy’s dense core were smashing hy- sightseer stopped. We shared a glance but
drogen atoms into helium, spewing energy no words. He took an iPhone photo and left.
and photons outward into space and time. A rattlesnake and yipping of coyotes were
These massless speed-of-light particles jour- the only other visitors. The sun’s journey
neyed and curved through gravitational en- pulled shadows long and thin until our star
tanglements. After twenty-five millennia on hid behind the horizon and the shade of the
earth and a photon’s instant, these particles earth covered me.
are now painting this inert lava and earth
with timeless nocturnal light. The first night clouds and rain concealed
the stars and kept me imprisoned within the
I am here hoping to find a single photo- van. Winds whistled through windows and
graph. It exists in my mind, it just needs to I escaped into books. Lost myself in words

136

Revista Literária Adelaide

and imagination of others. Waiting out Light from the galaxy illuminates the earth
doubts and holding onto patience. I slept but casts no shade. Impressions of dark
little and laid awake, eyes open to the dark, stone and a nebulous path guide me. Coy-
counting breaths, begging for hints of dawn. otes howl on hilltops. I hope my rattlesnake
friend has other plans.
The second day the wind quieted and
pale blue sky stretched overhead. Waiting Glimpses of peripheral vision give hints
in wind and light I watched our star rise in of the photograph. Jupiter calmly arcing up-
the east and journey across the south. At ward, resting upon the breast of the Dark
dawn shadows awoke long and strained Horse Nebula, a hazy figment of dust and
westward. I again circumnavigated the gas formed into the impression of a horse
crater three times. The shadows retracted over eons. The galaxy’s arch rises up and
within themselves until dusk stretched the bathes the crater in red, orange and blue
dark lines to the eastern horizon and earth’s starlight. Dark adapted eyes catch fleeting
shade once again overtook them. glimpses of this blending. The Earth’s green
and brown pigments mingle with old light.
Gradually the sun dipped, a fiery liquid
on the horizon, spilling crimson over the Slowly and calmly I operate the camera.
earth’s edge, bleeding behind the skyline. Its aperture is wider than my pupils, it sees
Beams angle upward through atmospheric more than I can. The activity quiets me,
dust, shadows of nothing form parallel lines soothing my thoughts and heartbeat. The
in heaven. Blues deepen and in the east an repetitive click of the shutter reminds me of
undefined red band appeared over a dark time’s passing. These moments bring about
curve. The Belt of Venus, the final pink sun- that elusive feeling of purpose, of meaning.
light piercing the sky’s densest ether. A pink I come here under the auspice of night pho-
sash separating the heavens from the land. tography but I’m really here for the tran-
The blue of earth’s shadow rises and hides sient possession of a moment, a memory.
the pink light until dawn. Points of starlight
appear. Familiar constellations materialize This moment, the inexplicable and ex-
so slowly change is imperceptible. Darkness ceptional mingling of atoms and molecules
envelops and the iris expands seeking light. into thoughts, senses and awareness. It is
Finally, true night arrives untainted by the the universe granted the chance to briefly
sun. Waiting continues. experience itself through transitory win-
dows between births and deaths. An oppor-
Midnight passes. Around 2am Jupiter tunity to be driven by wonder and desire
crests the horizon as our planet spins to- to understand. On a hanging blue pebble,
wards our galaxy’s center. With silent maj- surrounded by such space, atoms and mol-
esty, spiraling arms arc into the sky. Almost ecules of humanity create and express, feel
infinite points of light and color. A common- and die. They echo outward but only we hear
place view across millennia cultures, the it, we are the universe hearing itself. We’re
possible origin our mythology and science. traveling in an elliptical orbit, circling around
The night sky, the first abstract thought. that and then spiraling around that bigger
thing. This rare us-ness flickers throughout
Crossing the crater’s rim, I walk for 10 inestimable light-years. A single blue stone
minutes. Feet remember the path and well on an endless beach. An exquisitely unique
adapted eyes see the shadow-less ground. particulate in infinite shapelessness.

137

About the Author Adelaide Literary Magazine

Marc Toso is a published photographer, author and
molecular biologist located in Salt Lake City Utah. He is
known for photographing and writing about the night sky.
His work can be found in The Sun Magazine, Patagonia
and The Gulch Magazine. Much of his work has gone in
defending public lands and in support of The Bears Ears
National Monument. He is currently working on a book
of photography and essays on how night photography
intersects science, culture and religion. More work can be
found at www.ancientskys.com”

138

MS. MARY

by Katie Ridlington

The nursing home was a fantastic place of gone, that raised me. And the one laying in
life and love, but eventually death. There the bed now.”
were many little balls of sunlight that lived
there, but the one who shone the bright- I nodded, acknowledging that I under-
est was Mary. I was her caregiver until the stood how much dementia can change
end. She passed away in April of last year. someone, “I never knew her before the
Although her dementia was aggressive, I dementia. This is the only Mary I’ve known,
loved every inch of her. and it’s the only one I’ve ever loved.”

I walked into Mary’s room, no one was Mary and I sat at the dinner table to-
there except her, unconscious and bedrided. gether, she started needing help eating a
Her daughter who had been sitting and few weeks ago. She was staring at the ceiling.
sleeping next to her must have gone to get
lunch for herself. “Mary, take a bite,” I moved the fork
towards her mouth. She didn’t move. I
“Hello, my love,” I called to her. She had repeated my offer, but she seemed to be
been on Hospice care for about a week and stuck. I called the nurse over to take a look.
was probably full with morphine and ativan. She later told me that Mary had just had
I knew she wouldn’t talk back to me, but I a seizure and that we should continue to
didn’t mind. I walked to her bedside and sat watch her. Another caregiver took her to
in the chair beside her. A little piece of my her room. I was worried, I didn’t know what
heart broke every time I heard the fluid in this meant, if this was only a one time event
her lungs gurgle. I knew I didn’t have long or were things going to get worse?
until her daughter returned so I bend over
her and kissed her cheek. Unknowingly this I had been working in a different part
was my last goodbye. of the home, but on my way to the break
room Mary was being taken to her room. I
One night after work I came to sit with reached out my hand and she reached out
her daughter. She told me stories about her hers. We grabbed each others hand and I
mom when she was a kid. She mentioned smiled. “I love you, my dear,” I told her.
how much the dementia had changed her.
“It’s like I have two moms. One that’s long She smiled at me, a smile I will never
forget, “I love you too.”

139

Adelaide Literary Magazine

About the Author

Katie Ridlington is a college student from Fairbanks Alaska.
She is currently going to school full time and working part
time. In her free time she enjoys to write, spend time with
her dogs, and enjoy the beautiful outdoors.

140

A SANCTUARY
OF WORDS

by Claire Lu

We lived wedged between two red brick Some of school came home with me too.
houses on a little cul-de-sac on Pinehearst Slowly and gradually, Pinehearst Drive lost
Drive. It was an unremarkable house, iden- its vacuum seal and traces of something un-
tical to its neighbors, save for a single Jap- familiar trickled in. I explored this all new
anese maple posed in a tangle of limbs on sphere with a curious mind, dipping my
our front yard. toes in and running away in delight.

During the day, we fought dragons or Macaroni and cheese became common
played the warrior princess, defiled our fare at Pinehearst Drive. My favorite top-
sidewalks in messy swirls of pastel pink, pings were scallions and coriander.
and as the seasons turned to white, drew
lopsided grins on our snowmen. It was our I didn’t forget the things that I was raised
little sanctuary and we constructed a realm on, even as Dora the Explorer chanted in-
within the bounds of the curb between cessantly in my ear (wo men zuo dao le!
house 451-462. never became lo hicimos).

The sanctuary extended into the house- Wai po visited from Taiwan early Sep-
hold as well. We tossed out phrases casually tember during the Mid-Autumn Festival.
and carelessly. “Gei wo ni de bei zi,” we’d Her suitcase teemed with treats and gifts.
say to ask for a cup. Anything and every- We crowded around, oohing and ahhhing
thing would go because our home was at our newfound treasures. Our voices chat-
our vacuum, empty of consciousness. We tered in increasing excitement, as we delved
floated, carefree. into all the things that were so unfamiliar to
us, but we somehow still missed.
When the mornings came, I took my
backpack to the yellow school bus and left The days passed and wai po showed
Pinehearst Drive behind. I swapped my cal- us everything that we were missing: the
ligraphy brushes for crayons and sang “The people, the things, the place itself. She
Wheels on the Bus” with all my might. taught us how to write home in Chinese,
the elegant strokes building on top of each

141

Adelaide Literary Magazine

other to form a compact parcel. We copied Years later, I still think back to that day
in shaky, lopsided handwriting. “Meaning we were all together on our driveway. I
for every word.” She explained. “家 looks think about the glowing orb of a moon and
like home. Now, this is your home.” the beautiful, fleeting moments. The image
of us trying to retain a tradition that could
We showed her our Halloween costumes. have slipped from between our fingers
without notice is emblazoned across my
The next day, wai po ventured out be- mind. And we’ve done it every year since.
yond Pinehearst Drive and came home with
stories to tell. When it came time to say good-bye, we
cried our hearts out.
“I went to the store today. Bought a silver
carp, just like back home.” Wai po remarked After she left, I’ve continued to bring
as she flipped through the channels. “Very little tidbits back home with me. But I’ve
good deal.” I peer over the sink to see the also listened to the stories my relatives
tail of a fish in its sheen of silver. It lies mo- have to tell me and the words of wisdom
tionless. they wish to impart. We practice Christmas,
but never fail to go all out for Chinese New
It is not until years later when I learn that Year.
Chinese carps are donated to the poor or
served in prisons. They multiply until they Though we’ve moved halfway across
crowd out the rivers, until they reach popu- the world since, Pinehearst Drive is still the
lations too high to still be wanted. A poison sanctuary where we’ve built our tower of
that seeps ink-black through the water. traditions, brick by brick.

We ate mooncakes and you zi that night – We toss out phrases casually and care-
on rickety plastic chairs that scraped against lessly. “Pass me the bei zi,” we say. Any-
the gravel of our driveway. It was a familiar thing goes, because we understand each
taste, and it felt like sinking into another other within the sanctuary of our house.
home somewhere far away. The truth is that though we may talk differ-
ently or do different things, the foundation
We were a strange sight: a family of of 家 has remained stagnant after all these
four and a grandmother in an improvised years.
circle of chairs and blankets out on Pine-
hearst Drive. It seemed like something so It’s a messy hodgepodge of words
temporary it could be swept away by any meshed together to form new words, of
strong breath of wind. But there was some new traditions haphazardly tacked together
kind of reassuring permanence of the way in a makeshift collage.
we turned towards each other against the
beating gusts and clutched our blankets It’s messy. But it works.
tightly to ourselves. Even as the ends threat-
ened to flutter away.

142

About the Author Revista Literária Adelaide

Claire Lu is a student studying at Shanghai American
School, where she is highly involved in school publications.
She also founded an international literary magazine for
youth named The Foredge Review, and her work has been
recognized by the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards. Her
piece “A Sanctuary of Words” was inspired by her years
living internationally and her family’s culture.

143

PALIMPSEST OF
THE PLAINS

by Phoebe Myers

My mother calls to tell me she’s turned the Rightful owner seemingly long gone, the
old quern that’d been idly sitting on our quern moved from Kansas to Maryland and
front porch since my grandfather died a few to Ohio. The labor of some invisible hand
years ago into a birdbath, as her mother tediously grinding corn brought back to life
had used it for decades. The hollow grind- in a kind of stone palimpsest, revealing the
stone is a huge oval of impossible weight, a hollow grooves of repeated strokes past. In
shallow hollow carved out of its thick base my imagination the field of quern stones
and walls of stone. She tells me in the dry is a kind of graveyard, a vast memorial of
October weather the birds have practical- the labor that had inscribed itself into the
ly come in flocks, she’d even seen flickers muscles of the women who had used the
with their spotted breasts and flaming red querns. As if the world somehow would
tails. Until Ohio begins to freeze, they can honor dirt, stones, the rhythmic kneading
drink from it, an oasis for the beginning mi- of a woman’s arm, creating flour, food, fuel.
grations south. Do the birds know what it is in which they
swim, frigid drops of water rolling off long
The quern is in all likelihood an ancient feathers, cooling the inside throats of war-
artifact, likely used by an indigenous woman, blers, finches, robins? Does anyone?
perhaps of the Osage or Wichita tribe native
to what is now Kansas where my uncle Flint ***
found it as a teenager. The nuclear family
had since moved to Maryland, but they were Kansas is a Great Plains state, a part of those
on a visit back to Kansas to see my grand- endless prairies romanticized and feared by
mother Dorothy’s family. I’m not sure where the white settlers who encountered them.
they were exactly when Dorothy’s sister, Ro- As far as I know from what my mother tells
salie, asked Flint “Hey, do you wanna go get a me, my grandmother Dorothy’s ancestors
quern?” They drove to some overgrown field had been there, near Osage City, for sever-
and there were the stones, scattered, some al generations. Her grandmother’s maiden
partially covered with quiet dirt. name was MacLeod, of the Highland Scot-
tish MacLeod clan in the Isle of Skye. I’m

144

Revista Literária Adelaide

not sure which of the two branches she North and South America. Skilled plant ge-
was a member of, if she would be called neticists, it’s likely that they cross-bred wild
Sìol Tormoid of Sìol Torcaill, which are Gael- grasses to provide the optimal yield of ker-
ic qualifiers translating to “seed of Tormod” nels. The Plains tribes, such as the Omaha
or “seed of Torcall.” Perhaps she was too far and the Wichita among many others, grew
removed from her clan to be considered a and traded corn largely as a part of a shar-
seed at all. The Isle of Skye is a vast sweep ing economy. Maroon, white, ochre and
of low-lying grasses, punctuated by the oc- jade kernels ground by quern-stones into
casional mountain peak or lake. Much of flour, other vegetables traded for buffalo
the terrain is purple-tinged heather moors, furs and meat. Famously corn was one of
the type of landscape haunting Wuthering the items “given” to starving settlers during
Heights and The Hound of the Baskervilles. Thanksgiving, perhaps sparking a co-opting
At some point Dorothy’s family traded one of mammoth proportion.
expansive sky for another.
Oscar H. Will, born in 1855, made it into
Quern-stones of varying sorts were used the North Dakota Agricultural Hall of Fame
in feudal Scotland as well, as they have for his work cataloguing seed varieties given
been found from Babylon to China to the to him by indigenous farmers. Apparently
Mayan civilization since the Neolithic age. the main horticulturalist of the Plains, he
The necessity of grinding cereals appears not only stored seeds but information from
to be nearly ubiquitous, to make flours, indigenous farmers about how to plant,
medicines, even cosmetics. In feudal Scot- when to harvest, and the cosmologies sur-
land, querns were self-reliance embodied. rounding agriculture. Will experimented
Though time-consuming to make, anyone with these varieties of corn, squash, and
could fashion one out of naturally occurring beans and sold the seeds for his new crops
stone, grow their own wheat, and produce in his catalogue for the Oscar H. Will Seed
food for themselves for years. However, Company he began in 1884. Many modern
thirlage law mandated that tenants pay a sweet corn and field corn varieties contain
fee to use the baron’s mill to grind their DNA from the initial strains Will came to
wheat. Individuals were “thirled” to their possess, and Great Northern Beans were di-
baron’s mill, chained to the power structure rectly adapted from a bag of beans given to
that simultaneously excluded them. The him by a Hidasta man named Son of a Star.
law reserved the right of feudal superiors
to break any quern-stone they found. As a Around this same time, white settlers
result, most of the quern stones uncovered were still unsure if the Northern Plains
in Scotland are found in pieces, nearly de- would be hospitable to agriculture, but
molished entirely. Oscar Will’s experiments and seed cata-
logues made a convincing argument for
*** further encroachment into the West. The
indigenous groups of the Plains were al-
Corn shaped the American frontier, land ready decimated by small pox and confined
that later became Kansas and Nebraska to reservations. Regardless, white settlers
and Oklahoma filled to the brim with it. pressured the U.S. government to open up
Originating in what is now Mexico around new land in the West. As a result, the Dawes
7,000 years ago, it soon spread throughout Act, or General Allotment Act of 1887 was

145

Adelaide Literary Magazine

passed, effectively ending the reservation would make a similar food out of me. I know
period while simultaneously ensuring the physical labor isn’t expected of me, and
future of the West would belong in the I don’t want to view it as a mere curiosity.
hands of white farmers. Breaking ground for a farm, mining coal,
I’ve never come close to these tasks. The
*** only experience I have pales in comparison,
washing my clothes by hand during a month-
My grandparents met in high school. Grand- long trip in India. I filled a small bucket with
pa Roscoe told me once that one of the first water, squatting low to scrub and wring out
times he saw Dorothy, he noticed she had each piece, body afire from this simple chore.
come to school barefoot. She couldn’t have Laundry hangs outside windows and balco-
had an easy life. One of eight children, she nies the world over, coloring the cityscape,
grew up on a farm in the midst of the Great but in my house, it dries by mechanical wind
Depression. While western Kansas was the and sun. When I fold it, it’s warm, yet I know
most afflicted by climatic changes of that the warmth wasn’t earned. I’m afraid all I
time, the effects of cloistering dust clouds have, all I know, was never earned.
and endless, cracking droughts spread into
the greener pastures of East Kansas as ***
well. Dorothy’s father died due to tubercu-
losis when she was ten, and after that the I grew up surrounded by corn but had no
details become less clear. Eventually, my idea what it meant to be a farmer. Future
mother knows, they left the farm, and two Farmers of America (FFA) was the biggest
of Dorothy’s brothers Frederick and Robert club at our high school, a group my friends
Lee began working in coal mines. and I mercilessly made fun of amongst our-
selves. Republicans, homophobes, they
On one of my mother’s family trips back probably had confederate flags hidden
to Kansas, Dorothy said to Frederick, “Flint’s in their lockers we thought. Many in my
fascinated with the abandoned coal mines. friend group were professors’ kids from
Do you want to tell him about working in the local university, thinking ourselves to
them? be everything the country kids weren’t. Of
course, both groups were almost entirely
Instantly furious, Frederick replied, “FAS- white, and we were all offended to hear
cinating, huh? How’d you like to be down rumors that the college kids held “townie”
there, breathing in that shit?” costume parties where they dressed like
“us.” They dressed not quite like “us” as we
My mother says she’s woefully ignorant were currently but rather as the “us” we
of her parents’ lives, and her siblings say, might become (and many of us would), the
well, they were woefully negligent in telling groundskeepers and dining hall servers of
us about it. Dorothy’s youngest sister, Ro- the university, the delivery drivers. It didn’t
salie, is still alive, though I’ve never met her. matter that we were still only teenagers,
My mother suggests I give her a call to ask many of our parents or even aunts and un-
about Dorothy, about life on the farm. cles already played these roles. Only town-
ies could make fun of townies.
I don’t call her. I’m slightly afraid, afraid
that I would repeat the mistake Flint had Later attending that University myself, I
made all those years ago, that calling this had many people unknowingly tell me about
woman simply to ask her about her hardships

146

Revista Literária Adelaide

whatever bar or house party they went to trace of Monsanto-branded corn, the com-
that was “sketchy” or “weird” which usually pany can claim ownership of the yield. The
meant “redneck” or “townie” was about to reach of Monsanto extends beyond the
come out of their mouth next. A friend of a crop itself and into the seeds, the patent
friend was a bouncer at a popular bar and duplicating itself over again through the
according to him, the staff were trained natural reproduction of the plant. However,
to not let in anyone wearing camo, work even Monsanto farmers are not allowed to
boots, or coveralls. Even writing for the gather the fallen seeds to use in the next
school newspaper, when I suggested we try year’s planting, as has been the tradition
to cover more stories outside the scope of of farming since time immemorial. Rather,
the university a fellow staff writer sincerely they must continually purchase new seeds
told me, “You’re right. I totally forget that from Monsanto catalogues, thus keeping a
people actually live here.” fixed cycle of reliance on Monsanto, as well
as preventing any farmer from conducting
*** investigations as to the chemical makeup of
the seeds or attempts to hybridize plants of
“Most of the farmers I know are million- their own variety. Battles now rage in ge-
aires!” Taylor Keen tells me over the phone. netic sequences rather than out on horse-
I’ve called him after his organization Sacred back among the grasses. Capitalism has
Seed popped up while I was researching no issue burrowing into corn’s waxy-green
the role of corn in indigenous groups of the outer layers, through the silk and into the
Plains. core.

“They vacation in Europe, wear huge Much of the land these millionaire
rings. Small farms don’t exist anymore,” he farmers now use was sold or leased by in-
continues. digenous people not too long ago, though
the beginnings of the modern Plains stem
Taylor, a member of the Omaha Tribe back to the days of Oscar Will. The Dawes
and Cherokee Nation, is based in Nebraska Act of 1887 ended the communal-style land
where he operates his nonprofit Sacred ownership on indigenous reservations by
Seed. Sacred Seed works to recover and offering each “head of household” an allot-
grow indigenous varieties of corn and other ment of land for them to own and operate
crops. Sacred Seed is part of a growing privately, apart from their tribe. Any surplus
movement among indigenous groups to reservation land not used in the allotments
revive ancient crops and to uncover the would be sold to white settlers.
traditions, stories, and songs that go along
with them. Many indigenous people took the allot-
ments, but the devil lay in the details. True
Sacred Seed mainly operates out of Tay- to the paternalistic nature at the time, the
lor’s backyard, a micro-size farm in compar- U.S. government would not give the land
ison with the massive industrial farms and title to the indigenous owners right away,
cattle ranches sweeping the modern Plains. but rather held the land “in trust” for a
Taylor must always be vigilant against number of years or until the indigenous
cross-pollination from neighboring indus- person was deemed “competent” enough to
trial farms, often using Monsanto-branded manage his own farm. Initially, the sources
crops. If his crops are found to contain any

147

Adelaide Literary Magazine

I referenced said that all indigenous people buttery Chex mix we had made yesterday.
received the same amount of land, but Keen They talk about politics and serial killers,
informed me that this was actually one of outside the world of Maryland is gray and
the primary examples of institutional use the stone birdbath in the backyard layered
of blood-quantum laws. Indigenous people with a thin glass of ice.
thought to be “full blooded” by the govern-
ment were given smaller plots of land with My mother and I make the dough for
trust patents giving the government com- sugar cookies my late grandmother Dorothy
plete control for a minimum of twenty-five always made, though I don’t really know her
years. Those thought of as “mixed-blood” or how she made her cookies as she died
were given larger and more fertile plots when I was six. The recipe is scrawled onto
of land with patents in ‘fee simple,’ giving a red card adorned with a Christmas tree,
them complete control, though they were ink faded to a kind of yellow splotch that I
forced to accept U.S. citizenship and give can barely read, but my mother can. Years
up their tribal status. Hearing this I picture later she’ll email me a scanned image of the
again the graveyard of quern stones, broken card, that I might want it now I’m out on my
into pieces, the lonesome whistle of wind own, and I realize I don’t have a flour sifter
blowing between the empty cracks of what or any mouths to feed, but I look for a long
was once solid, once whole. time at the writing, evidence of a hand I can
scarcely remember.
***
***
Two white, upside-down handprints dust
the low arch of my mother’s back, ghost Taylor told me the Omaha origin story of
fans on a black turtleneck sprinkled with corn, of Mother Corn’s arrival in this world.
flour. I feel most like her when my hair is The story was given to the Omaha by the
up in a bun and frenetic strands of hair fall Arikara tribe. One day, a young hunter was
loose, when my eyes water from cutting roaming the plains, looking to prove his
onions and there’s too many people in the ability to provide. He silently approached
kitchen and she hands me a delicate pile a bluff, and below him was a lone bison
of flour on wax paper, a pyramid of down, standing between two rivers. Not wanting
which I slide into her mother’s rusted-met- to scare the bison, the hunter watched
al hand sifter. I crank the lever and down from above and noticed, curiously, that
the flour rains, a thimbleful at a time un- the bison didn’t move a muscle. It stood
til my bicep and forearm ache. My mother with purpose for several hours, facing one
usual takes over after a while. direction, not swaying or stepping away.
Eventually the hunter went back and slept
It’s Christmas at my grandfather’s re- at his camp, but he returned early the next
tirement cottage, we open the window morning.
even though it’s fifteen degrees outside
because that’s how hot the tiny kitchen is. That morning, the bison was in the same
Low bubbles of the coffee machine murmur location, but facing another direction, the
behind us after my Uncle Flint starts a pot, second of the four cardinal directions. The
my grandfather, sister, and father out in hunter returned on the third and fourth
the living room eating clementines and the mornings to see the same phenomenon, but
on the fifth day, the bison had disappeared.

148