Adelaide Literary Magazine No. 11, January 2018

Revista Adelaide

She was gone without another word. The
sharp whisper in my head went silent. The apart-
ment sighed a final release. I cried into the pillow
where she’d last laid her wounded head. But I
knew she was right.

An empƟness descended upon me, one I only
knew how to fill with booze, needles or pills. In-
stead, I called my mother. She packed about a
third of my clothes and shipped my painƟngs di-
rectly to a warehouse in Schaumberg. I was
home for Christmas.

It’s been five years and sƟll I think of Siobhan. About the Author:
SomeƟmes she’s in my dreams. She looks happy,
smiling and not so angry. Me, I sobered up, took A naƟve Midwesterner, Jessica Ciosek lives with
a job with my father’s company and married my her family in NYC. By day she works for a New
mother’s tennis partner’s daughter. But every York City public high school, by night she toils at
Wednesday before Thanksgiving I go out for a the keyboard. She has recently finished her first
café au lait in Siobhan’s honor. My wife orders novel and is looking for an agent. Her work has
one, too. appeared in Minerva Rising Literary Journal.

“It’s a tradiƟon for us,” she says innocently, her
pale rose lipsƟck leaving barely a trace on the
cup’s edge.

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Adelaide Magazine

A WINTER COAT

by SevasƟ Iyama

On a nightstand, there were red roses in a glass mask, she saw Calliope hunched over, in a corner,
vase. Against the hospital’s stark fluorescent staring at her clenched fist. Blood mixed with the
lighƟng, the roses made Calliope’s eyes hurt. That roses, making the flowers look like rust.
night, aŌer she landed at JFK a cab drove her
straight to the hospital. The nurse cleaned and bandaged her right hand.
An aide swept up the glass. Calliope stared at the
Eyes closed, he lay on the hospital bed, and man in the bed, who seƩled into a deep sleep, his
breathed through an oxygen mask. Tubes and chest rising up and down, like the waves she saw
catheters stemmed out of his nose and arm. The outside the Royal Hawaiian’s window where Mas
heart monitor’s screen showed spiked lines. On and she stayed during their honeymoon in Ha-
the top right, there were two numbers, one over waii, years ago.
the other. A pulse oximeter was aƩached to his
finger. “Have to change your father’s bedpan,” said the
nurse.
Like a bumblebee, a nurse buzzed around his bed.
“I’ll go smoke,” said Calliope.
“Who brought the roses?” Calliope asked.
“Honey, it’s freezing outside,” said the nurse.
“I don’t know,” the nurse said. “Where’s your coat?”

“My husband bought me roses when we met.” The woman’s kindness took her aback. Calliope
shrugged, and picked up the roses from a chair,
The nurse smiled and leŌ the room. where she had leŌ them.

Calliope walked over to the nightstand, where the As Calliope walked down the hallway, the smell of
flowers perched, like soldiers at aƩenƟon. She Pine-sol permeated her senses. Although they
touched a rose. A few petals cascaded to the lived in a huge house, Mas refused to hire a maid.
floor. Suddenly, he had a coughing fit. Startled, He made Calliope clean, to earn her keep, and
she knocked the vase over. Flowers and water told her that she had to use Pine-Sol to scrub the
scaƩered everywhere. The vase shaƩered into toilets. The smell made her ill.
broken shards. She saw her broken reflecƟon in
the glass pieces, like a cubist painƟng by Chagall. Once she reached the parking lot, she hurled the
roses into the darkness. She shivered in her thin
He retched. There was green sputum on his lips. leather jacket. AŌer she booked the flight, they
The oxygen mask fell off. The spiked lines on the fought. As usual, the argument was about money.
monitor moved faster. She pressed the emergen- He had millions, and she had none except for the
cy buƩon, and then scrambled on the floor, pick- money he gave her, because she was a loser ac-
ing up the roses. tress, a fact that he threw in her face. He paid for

The nurse reappeared, like a fairy godmother.
AŌer the nurse gave him a shot and adjusted his

50

Revista Adelaide

all her needs, from cigareƩes to meals to head- pm Eastern standard Ɵme. Back in LA, it was 8
shots, and even a nose job. Before she leŌ LA, she pm.
begged for a winter coat because New York had
sub zero temperatures in February, but he said, Like the goddess Aphrodite, the house once rose
“No. That Ɵcket cost me an arm and leg!” out of a sea of pink bougainvilleas and red roses.
A month ago, Mas and she fought, again, and he
They fought just like her parents used to, except pushed her head against the wall. AŌer he let her
her father never hit her mother. go, she ran up to their bedroom, locked the door,
and stared out of the window, which overlooked
When she was 29, she fled New York. She did not Beachwood canyon. Mas stormed outside with a
think raƟonally when she moved to Los Angeles. weed whacker. Like the killer in the Texas Chain-
It was more of a “fight or flight” response. In Hol- saw Massacre, he aƩacked the roses and bou-
lywood, she got lost like many actors do. It was a gainvilleas, unƟl all that was leŌ were amputated
town full of beauƟful blondes with long legs, driv- stubs. In the distance, she heard the peacocks
ing around in top down converƟbles, blasƟng pop that belonged to a famous drummer who lived in
music. a castle. The birds screamed. For a split second,
Calliope thought the sound came from the flow-
And there was dark-haired, chain-smoking Callio- ers that were begging Mas for mercy.
pe. She drove an old CheveƩe and blasted Metal-
lica on the radio to cover up the noise inside her As she stumbled down the hallway, she saw a
head. Although she moved 2451 miles away, she body covered in a black body bag on a bed inside
sƟll heard them arguing. The music did not help. Room 142. In Room 144, there was a white
AŌer Mas and she started fighƟng, she found re- haired old woman propped up in bed. Blue light
lief in booze and benzos. from the TV flashed across her face. The old
woman stared, right at her, and screeched like
Outside the hospital, she reached inside her Pra- the peacocks and the sound effects from the
da handbag for her cigareƩes, and lighter. She movie Psycho. Calliope covered her ears, and
had less than fiŌy bucks in cash, but she had two bolted towards her father’s room.
credit cards. Mas was the authorized user, but
she was a joint cardholder. Should she risk buying His chest raƩled as if his lungs were full of rocks.
a coat? He would see it on the billing statement
and freak out. Don’t take anything naƟve from Hawaii, Mas had
said. No rocks or sand. It will bring us bad luck.
Her hands shook as she lit a cigareƩe. Inside her
bag, there was a mini boƩle of Merlot that she Ok, I won’t.
confiscated from the airplane, next to her cell
phone and a boƩle of Xanax. I love you, Calli.

“Take only as needed for extreme anxiety,” the I love you, too, Mas.
shrink had said.
Another subway train screeched into the staƟon.
My anxiety is always extreme, she thought.
So many years ago, when she lived at home in the
She chased a pill with wine and smoked. Bronx with her parents, she leŌ, five days a week,
at 8 am, to take the subway to NYU. One cold
As a train screeched into the staƟon a block away, winter day, she overslept and leŌ at 8:30 am. She
her phone rang. threw on a hoodie, because she couldn’t find her
coat, and her acƟng teacher hated tardiness.
It was Mas.
As she waited for the train on the outdoor sub-
She trampled the cigareƩe with her shoes. way plaƞorm, she saw her father, carrying a brief-
case, wearing his thick winter coat. He walked
AŌer the phone stopped ringing, she went inside. right by her, keeping his head down, unƟl he be-
came an exclamaƟon point in the distance.
As she waited for the elevator, she envisioned
Mas home in their Hollywood Hills yellow stucco When the train came, he entered a separate car.
art deco house. She checked her cell. It was 11

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Adelaide Magazine

Why did she marry Mas? Was it because he was About the Author:
ten years older than her, and represented the
father she never had as a child? Or was it because SevasƟ Iyama is the blog writer for Cycles of
she was out in LA alone and had been for years? Change Recovery Services. She has wriƩen for
First she worked as a cocktail waitress at the Rain- RehabReviews.com, the Antelope Valley Press
bow, and then as a waitress at the Beachwood and the Kern Valley Sun. She’s also the co-author
coffee shop, which was where she met Mas one of How I got Sober, 10 Alcoholics and Addicts Tell
morning, when he sat at the counter, and she their Personal Stories. Presently, she is working
served him pancakes? By then, she had goƩen on a novel called, The Pomegranate Cowboy,
her SAG card, thanks to THE BLOOD OF THE which is loosely based on the myth of Persephone
DAMNED, an awful B-movie where she played and Hades. She is pursuing a Masters Degree in
VAMPIRE’S VICTIM #2. Speaking three words got CreaƟve WriƟng from Southern New Hampshire
her the damn card. University. SevasƟ is from the Bronx, and Los An-
geles. She lives in the small town of Lake Isabella,
“I am alone.” California but being a city girl at heart, she plans
to go back to New York City, in the not too distant
His eyes opened. future.

“My daughter, take my coat,” he said with a
smile. “Sit next to me on the train.”

She took his cold hand in hers. His lips were blue,
and his face was a pale green, but his eyes were
brown like hers.

“This Ɵme, stay,” he said.

“Ok,” she said.

He sighed, and closed his eyes.

The nurse came back. While the nurse adjusted
his oxygen levels, Calliope pulled her hand away
and walked to the window. Outside there was a
liƩle girl dressed in red playing in the snow, bob-
bing up and down, like an apple being dunked in
white Belgian chocolate. Her cell phone rang. It
was Mas. Her hands trembled as if she held a gre-
nade. Suddenly, the EKG monitor sounded an
alarm. Startled, she dropped the phone, while the
piercing sound of the alarm drowned out the tele-
phone ring. A crack formed on the screen like a
lightning bolt. Nurses ran into the room, and
someone yelled, “Code Blue.” She blindly turned
towards the window. The liƩle girl was stomping
in the snow, as a tall man in a winter coat ap-
peared. The child ran towards him, screaming
with laughter, as he picked her up, held her in his
arms, and carried her away.

52

Revista Adelaide

GOLDEN BROWN

by Souzi Gharib

"What is the colour of your eyes?" an arƟculate Adele preferred a different type of life and be-
voice inquires. came a strip in some renown club for mature men
– at least this is what I have been told. I never
"Golden brown," I answer with the ease only invesƟgated the veracity of her tale. I know from
characterisƟc of self-descripƟon, parƟcularly the the leƩers that I occasionally receive that she
physiognomic type. I had borrowed the adjecƟve lavishly lives in the West End in a trendy apart-
from a pop song, the Stranglers' "Golden Brown", ment that I have never visited. I always return her
and feel like adding the words that follow, cheques, the money she bewitchingly earns, with
"texture like sun", but it would have cost me the a brief but thankful note informing her that I have
job. enough on which to subsist.

"Then your interview is at the address provided I arrive the next morning at a huge house, the
in the newspaper at eleven o'clock, tomorrow. mansion type, with a half-erased coat-of-arms: I
We look forward to meeƟng you, Clare. Good view the boat, the anchor and the dolphin with
Day," concludes the very courteous voice. reverence, all water elements. The bronze door-
handle imparts history to my humid palm. I am
The phone resumes its electronic tone marking received by an elegant housekeeper whose smile
the end of an ordeal. I desperately need eye- intensifies upon greeƟng my eager eyes. She dec-
contact in any intercourse with humankind, and orously leads the way to a great hall whose main
on the phone I feel blind. I know the job involves characterisƟc is light. Irises and daffodils adorn
humouring a home-bound youth but I cannot every corner of a very spacious room. Bright wild
understand the relevance of the colour of my flowers, dominantly yellow and white, are every-
orbs. This lends an enigmaƟc hue to a very ordi- where. Yellow seeps into my brain-cells and tran-
nary job-interview. I begin to tread in the foot- quilizes my agitated nerves.
steps of Jane Eyre on her way to gothic Thorn-
field. I know I have to pull the brake on a very The hall is empty of other candidates so I as-
imaginaƟve cast of mind, so I occupy myself in- sume I must be nearer my goal. I need the money
stead with ironing the only dress suitable for a for my studies and other ever-postponed necessi-
formal meeƟng, my daffodil ouƞit. Ɵes. A soŌ bell rings and I am ushered into anoth-
er room, brighter in hues. There are even buƩer-
We have always been short of money. My fa- flies hovering around majesƟc vases. I am quite
ther eventually broke under the strain of sup- relieved that no hand-shaking is involved. My
porƟng a small family and completely vanished. hands always feel embarrassingly icy-cold. People
Out of grief, my mother locked herself in some aƩribute it to malnourishment though it is in my
monastery in Provence which was affiliated to her case simply a maƩer of bad blood-circulaƟon, so a
ancestral past. I and my twin sister remained in doctor once told me.
Glasgow. I assiduously pursued study and became
obsessed with scholarships but my twin sister

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Adelaide Magazine

"Good Morning, Clare. How are you?" greets a does not give them his undivided aƩenƟon; his
young man from behind a grand desk. focus is on the canvas. What would be the dura-
Ɵon of my employer's gaze? I wonder whether it
"Good Morning. I am very well, thank you," I is moral to commune with the soul of a man for
answer with a habitual, genuine smile which whom I feel nothing. And what if I eventually feel
some men find capƟvaƟng and then unhesitaƟng- something for him? It is going to be unrequited
ly add, "And you?" and a broken rule for which I would be repri-
manded. I crease my Ɵdy bed with restless
"I shall feel beƩer when I know how you feel thoughts then dive into a puddle of tears which
about my offer," the young man supplies the an- always grows into a vast lake in my dreams.
swer with a beauƟful mouth and a pair of probing
eyes. In the morning new worries emerge. What am
to wear on my first day at work? I have resolved
I await the more detailed job-descripƟon with to keep the cheque for academic needs. I open
my habitual paƟence, returning his boundless my mother's abandoned wardrobe and consider
gaze with humble haze. for the first Ɵme wearing her anƟque dresses,
some of which she inherited from her own grand-
"How do you feel about a sort of wordless mother, heraldry in cloth. I try the bluebell dress.
friendship? Do you believe in the eloquence of It fits my slender frame. We both take aŌer our
eyes?" he poses a couple of quesƟons for a job- slim mother, but Adele has recently put on extra
descripƟon. flesh in the wake of her profession-related ban-
quets.
He sounds neither like the Roderick Usher
whose heart-beats resonate to a half-buried sister The Lotus-Gazers
nor like the lead singer of Depeche Mode, com-
plaining in "Enjoy the Silence" about the violence I have always collected words as a girl eagerly
of words - simply a mature, pensive, young man collects sea-shells. Each word has a kingdom of its
whose eyes merely seek meaning in mine. own. Each has color, odour and a winsome per-
Strange as the situaƟon sounds, the thing does sonality that is inborn. Each possesses its own
not sound like daƟng. I am beneath his staƟon music, its own audible soundtrack whether it is
and he sounds too serious for anything flirtaƟous. sung or lies dormant in bed alone. SomeƟmes
However, I think of my stripping sister revealing words enact their alloƩed meanings and at other
the most inƟmate parts of her body: Am I then to Ɵmes they mischievously elope. Each word I
strip my soul before a stranger's pair of eyes? Do wrote or spoke acquires a scent which conjures
both jobs amount to the same thing? Both are up a phantasmagoria of images, scenes and emo-
paid anyway. In an age of escorts and fast sex a Ɵons experienced years ago. Words emanate
very charming and handsome man is looking for a warmth and solace when all around me have
soulful strip. I trip over reluctant words and re- gone cold. With words I rub my wounds and
main helplessly terse. bandage the laceraƟons of my soul. Words are
phantoms, Emily's, Anne's and CharloƩe's which
'What has the colour of eyes to do with this?" I haunt the deep recesses of my core. They are
inquisiƟvely ask. angels that fan a child's fever like Oscar Wilde's
swallow who died forlorn.
The man with the eloquent voice on the phone
politely inƟmates that I am not expected to ask Deprived of my cherished companions, I have to
any quesƟons about my employer's preferences start my very first day at work without their indis-
or ailment or even speak of my situaƟon outside pensable aid. Bravely siƫng opposite his loŌy
this present circle, which merely consists of the chair in a spectacular garden, I smile my morning
house-keeper Miss. McKnowel , the nameless greeƟngs, feeling as weird as Alice in that famous,
voice, and Mr. McSloy, my taciturn employer. enchanted hole in her pursuit of a rabbit that
With a simple nod of the head, I accept the job talks. His eyes are fixed on the water-lilies that
and receive a cheque in advance of five-hundred deck an expansive pond. I follow his gaze and
pounds. imbibe the translucence of my favourite flower
with graƟtude. When our eyes meet for fleeƟng
In bed I ponder over models I have seen on
television posing for upright painters. The arƟst

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Revista Adelaide

seconds, it feels like an overwhelming deluge of Infinitude is our rite tonight. It is Mr. McSLoy who
warmth. He leaves with a graceful bow and I con- teaches me how to star-walk.
Ɵnue contemplaƟng Beauty alone. I wait to be
ushered out to head home. I sƟll recall how as a child I enjoyed counƟng
the numberless stars, but I was repeatedly ad-
I arrive at my flat feeling feather-light. The alba- monished by my supersƟƟous aunt who told me
tross is off my neck. There is nothing immoral that the ugly warts on my hand, which rebuffed
about my new job. A sense of companionship, the clasps of my school-mates, were some kind of
completely missing from my life, begins to buoy retribuƟon for my star-counƟng. The more I
me up. He must have had a turbulent, domesƟc counted, the more mushrooms sprouted, the
life to be so averse to words. I know from my par- uglier grew my hand. I wondered how such beau-
ents how verbal exchanges can grow perniciously Ɵful lights could vengefully blight my hands with
harmful. Or he might be hermeƟc in inclinaƟons. I sprouts. I conƟnued gazing at the starry sky but
remember my promise to keep the nature of my the moment my head started a count I hurriedly
employment secreƟve, so I rebuke my own pri- lowered my eyes. My parents tried every sort of
vate, errant thoughts and immerse myself in my ointment and medicaƟon to eradicate the ugly
academic world. mounds, but nothing worked. It took an Indian,
blind man with a knife held in his hand to induce
Because the weather is slightly chilly, our sec- their demise. He repeatedly passed the knife over
ond meeƟng is in the library-room which is full of the culprits, almost touching them, while reciƟng
Scotch broom. My eyes weave yellow on their memorized verses from his holy book. The im-
looms. I nearly swoon when I feel a pair of golden mense fear I felt when the knife nearly scraped
-brown eyes watching me from above. A large my ossified dunes must have made them disap-
painƟng of a beauƟful woman covers half the pear. It was a psychological type of healing, but
wall. Mr. McSloy follows the direcƟon of my gaze frighƞully inƟmidaƟng.
and joins me in contemplaƟng the portrait. When
I view his face to invesƟgate any resemblance to When I turn my head in Mr. Mcsloy's direcƟon,
the object of the portrait, he returns my smile a lunar ray rebounds from his eye and skates on
with a galaxy of lights that swim in a pair of emer- my golden-browns, illuminaƟng my tearful mind. I
ald-green eyes. I wonder what sort of things he smile my good-night and leave Mr. McSloy to his
sees in mine and why of all the people I? cosmic pals.

I stop worrying about what to wear for work. Knights of Light
Mr. McSloy does not noƟce my clothes or any-
thing below my orbs. I sƟck to my daffodil dress Mrs. McKnowel leads me out of the familiar
because it makes me feel like a Tibetan monk surroundings to a submerged path that leads to
gone on a retreat. I begin to cherish our meeƟngs the family chapel. I think that this is one of the
which are fairly brief and pray for his health be- blessings of being affluent, affording private wor-
cause at Ɵmes he looks as frail as the flowers that ship. I assure her that I shall be able to find Mr.
adorn his book-shelves. McSloy on my own, and walk with ease the tree-
fringed path with tranquility. A Ɵny stone church
The Gloaming meets my eyes but Mr. McSloy is not to be found.
I walk round the church to the backyard where I
At night, our ciƟes are engulfed with myriads of find a small cemetery full of flowers. On an ele-
light, the romanƟc, the commercial, and the gar- gant bench sits Mr. McSloy contemplaƟng a grave
ish type, and for people whose heads are cowed or reading something engraved on it. I make my
with worries about fees, food and overdue rent, presence felt by standing next to the bench and
the stars above remain totally obscured and out start reading the inscripƟon:
of sight.
Hereby I purge my tongue, my mind, my heart,
We bask in the gloaming imbibing every shred of thinking ill of a ring of holy monks, Knights of
of light. The moon waxes rhapsodic over the sur- Light, who will forevermore remain enshrined in
face of every crystal-clear dew-drop. I follow his many hearts.
gaze to the sky and falter above a mat of stars.

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Adelaide Magazine

I stand at a loss what to do. My eyes are mes- has been faring with my self-sequestered mother
merized by his ring which bears the same coat-of- so I accept her invitaƟon without any reserva-
arms engraved on the edifice. I feel as if I am Ɵons. Her aged husband duƟfully receives me
walking into a page of history which in grand li- with a lukewarm smile but he has a pair of chilling
braries one cannot touch without a white pair of eyes that are colder than my Alaskan hands. He
gloves. I remember the reverence which my feels my discomfort in his presence and feigns no
mother bestows upon the dead and kneel and say affecƟon for his wife's only relaƟve. We intuiƟvely
a prayer for the tenants of the grave. It must be discern that we belong to warring clans.
very lonely to be the last of a race, a dying history
without a living trace. As I rise to resume my for- Adele takes me to her over-furnished, bridal
mer posiƟon at his side, Mr. McSloy sƟrs and room to display her hard-earned comforts and
heaves a sigh. I eagerly look into his eyes only to her impressive jewels, then directly comes to the
meet a galaxy of tears. point:

Emerald-Green "Are you engaged, Clare?" she anxiously asks,
looking at the ring in my right hand.
In a large bed Mr. McSloy lies like an ailing bird,
a golden creature that one visualizes in fairy tales. "No, I am not engaged. This ring is a giŌ from a
A tear hops on my eyelash that mirrors a similar friend," I answer, gazing affecƟonately at the sub-
one on his emerald-green lake. The housekeeper ject of the topic.
whispers in my ear that tears are discouraged in
the presence of a sickly friend. I force a smile that "It looks very expensive. I did not know you
kindles my golden-brown twins and wait for a were capable of socializing with the gentry. You
response from him. He twists like a crinkling leaf, should have introduced the man to me", says
so I whisper in Mrs. McKnowel's ear a plea to be Adele with undisguised disappointment.
allowed to get closer to him. She is at a loss what
to say and ignores my gradual advance to a very I sardonically grin. The idea of my sister strip-
majesƟc bed. I sit at its very edge and place my ping before Mr. McSloy is a painful, heart-rending
warming hand next to his. He looks too weak to joke.
act so I take his hand in my small hands and try to
impart what neither words nor gazes can convey "He is very welcome to accompany you the
to him. He lies very sƟll. I feel his hand slowly next Ɵme you call," says Adele with enthusiasm.
wilƟng in my gentle grip. I release it when I know
all contact with him is definitely lost. It won't be "He is dead," I quickly state, strangulaƟng her
long before he's dead; I know it. day-dream in a single second.

A Moat "My husband would be interested in purchasing
a ring like this. It looks historic. The money would
Adele invites me to her wedding-ceremony. She be useful to you, Clare, I mean for your studies,"
has managed to convince an elderly man to be- says Adele encouragingly.
come his permanent strip and wishes me to be
her bridesmaid. In a glamorous parcel I receive "One does not sell a friend's giŌ," I answer with
the full gear: a silk, pink dress with a pair of very apparent indignaƟon. "Did you call at our moth-
expensive saƟn shoes. I return her Ɵnsel with an er? I recall receiving a card from Provence."
apology that I am in the middle of mourning for a
very dear friend. Instead I arrive at the church in a "I did not contact our mother, dearest. I am so
black dress which my mother had reserved for sorry. It would have broken my heart to see Mum
funerals and formal events. On a finger, I wear a walled in. I also do not take to nuns. I will send
ring with a coat of arms engraved on it. Stephen her a leƩer with my latest news as soon as I feel
McSloy had bequeathed it to me in his will. seƩled in St. Andrews," answers my sister with
her usual self-assurance.
Adele spends her honeymoon in France and
upon her return she invites me to her new resi- I feel the need to speed up my leave before my
dence in St. Andrews. I am eager to know how life remonstrance finds a harsh, verbal release. My
decision to skip the desert which is in the wake of
a series of plates, none of which has been to my
taste, dispels the clouds that have been crowding

56

Revista Adelaide

over her husband's brow. The only other guest I do not know what makes me so abruptly turn
whom I obliterated from my mind the moment I round since my eyes are preoccupied with deci-
arrived uneasily sƟrs in his chair and prepares to phering the contours of his alarm. It is possibly
leave too. I do not recall his name or his relaƟon the movement of his eye-balls in which my image
to the newly-married pair. He sat silent opposite is permanently blurred. To my shock, I espy two
my chair at the grand dinner-table listening to the gentlemen quickly moving away, one with a big
incessant chaƩer of my very talkaƟve sister, while camera in his hand, the type they use for shooƟng
I simply sat feeling comfortably numb at the ab- a film.
solute loss of my appeƟte.
A Wake
I fail to promise a second visit and slip the
cheque which my sister has inserted in my pocket My sister's husband is dead. Induced by exces-
back into her bosom from which it has emerged. sive sexual excitement which I aƩribute to Adele's
As I plant a quick kiss on her rosy cheek, her hus- professionalism in the most adventurous types of
band's sigh of relief swirls to my ears. provocaƟve undressing, a heart-aƩack has
claimed her aged husband. She is now a young
The other guest of honour whom now I find at widow with a vast inheritance. I aƩend the funer-
my heels chivalrously offers me a liŌ. I assure him al service to offer my condolences. Adele plants a
that I have a return Ɵcket to Glasgow but he in- sƟcky kiss on my cheek, then in a whisper diluted
sists that there is ample room in his car and Glas- with permissible amounts of liquor, she imparts
gow is also his desƟnaƟon. to my nervous ear her future career. She is going
to run her own night-club but stop strip-teasing
Mr. Whiplow gives me a synopsis of his life before customers. I thrill to the laƩer part of her
which matches the glossy leather of the interior decision but how can I reason her out of the first.
of his car. I try to listen but my ears protest I think it is a sacrilege to discuss nightclubs in the
against the banality of his words. Before we reach house of God so I refrain from a debate that my
Glasgow, he stops at a deserted park which is sister is bound to win.
supposedly under repair, then with a single twist,
he unƟes the chain of the iron gate, quite bent on Virginia Woolf
showing me an historic mansion which is in the
middle of a beauƟful lake, claiming to be the I have chosen the subject of my dissertaƟon
abode of a very distant relaƟve, a duchess. and my supervisor is very pleased with my choice
of Virginia Woolf's most complex novel The
I always keep calm when I feel danger prowling Waves. It guarantees a considerable amount of
in the vicinity, so when he starts his preliminary, originality and perhaps it may get published one
sexual advances in the form of an embrace and day. She has not known me long enough to know
his hands begin to unsaddle my rear, I coolly de- that all types of ambiƟon are uƩerly missing from
cide to freeze his meat. My only recourse is the my life. I have chosen Woolf's most sophisƟcated
ice of my syllables and my sluggish heart-beats. I novel because water permeates its every pore,
have always believed that fear has a scent which and its tree-metaphors are redolent with the
whets the appeƟte of a predator in heat. CelƟc, Druidic lore. Its six characters, a six-
petalled flower, consƟtute a universal whole with
"What comes next in this gothic scene? You all its flaws. I see in Jinny my own sister Adele,
throw me in the pond to dispense with my body," braving eroƟc waves. Withdrawn Rhoda conjures
say I very composedly and half-jokingly. up my mother who is shunning the terror of life,
dwelling in a Ɵny shell that does not resonate
"What makes you think I would want to be rid with waves. The ferƟle Susan repulses me with
of you?" says he, with a bewildered look on his her unbridled insƟncts, sailing placidly on an infi-
hardening face, his hissing hands withdrawing nite sea of maternity. Bernard with his love of
before accomplishing their intended deed. words appeals to me most.

"It looks like a movie scene," I add confidently, What If
while composedly adjusƟng the ruffled aƫre of
my indignant rear. On a fragrant piece of paper I scribble a poem

57

Adelaide Magazine

with which to bid my sister goodbye before I head About the Author:
to a coƩage in the Outer Hebrides. It is where my
Dad lives a hermeƟc type of life. He has finally Susie Gharib is a graduate of the University of
yielded to his paternal impulse and decided to Strathclyde (Glasgow, Scotland) with a Ph.D. Her
acknowledge my existence. He has made me doctoral thesis, enƟtled StylisƟc and ThemaƟc
promise to keep his presence a secret so I Reassessment of The Trespasser, is a criƟcal study
pledged. of the work of D.H. Lawrence. Since 1996, she has
been lecturing in Syria. She self-published four
What if I strip before a fleet of fish that's collecƟons of poetry (My Love in Red, The Alpine
moored to uncharted reef! Glow, Resonate and Kareem) and a collecƟon of
short stories (Bare Blades). She is a lover of Na-
What if I sƟr the dregs of fears which slumber ture and enjoys swimming.
inside your cup of dreams!

What if I dwell in a toilsome tear which eons of
years can't render brief!

What if I become the baleful breeze in a sea-
shell's ear, bereŌ of waves!

What if I soar beneath the sphere of an eye
whose core is wry with schemes!

What if I expire on a chuckle's pyre!

What if! What if!

God Bless, Clare.

58

Revista Adelaide

MEETING MINUTES

by Brooke Reynolds

Jessica Derby slipped into room A19 just in Ɵme. Jerry jerked his head up and pulled his earphones
It was her first PTA commiƩee meeƟng. She had out. His face flushed as he was greeted by a room
no idea what to expect having just moved here full of blank faces. “Yes?”
from Pennsylvania. She promised her husband
that she was going to make an effort at being “Jerry, we’re having a meeƟng here.”
involved in her kid’s new school. She slid into the
last remaining open seat next to a woman reveal- “Sorry. I’ll just grab this trash bag here and slip
ing way too much cleavage for a weeknight out the way.”
school related funcƟon.
“Thanks, Jerry. Now, where were we? Ah, yes. I
The cleavage stood to address the room. “Alright, want to bring up the lovely new sign out front
everyone. It’s 6:37 pm and officially Ɵme to start that was donated by the Class of 2015. What a
the September 2016 PTA commiƩee meeƟng. I’m great addiƟon. Oh, I wanted to thank everyone
Chelsea Langhour, your current PTA President. who parƟcipated in the bake sale. Chelsea, I don’t
We’ll get started with aƩendance. If everyone believe we saw you at the bake sale this Ɵme.”
could please make sure that they sign the sheet.”
Chelsea handed the sign-in sheet to Jessica to be “I had a prior commitment that evening.”
passed around. “Diane Fairmore, our secretary
again this year, will be recording the minutes. Diane raised her hand. “I moƟon to create an
Principal Slater, do you wanna start the meeƟng award for all those who refused to parƟcipate in
off this evening?” the bake sale. The winners will be forced to take
weekend baking classes for one month. The ‘I
Andrew Slater stood and adjusted his Ɵe. “Thank have no desire to be BeƩy Crocker’ award. All in
you, Chelsea. I’d like to start by saying that the favor, raise your hand?”
new school year here at Bentridge High School is
off to a great start. I anƟcipate great things from Jessica looked around the room as all hands shot
our students this year. The senior class is a stellar up except for her’s and Chelsea’s.
group of kids and they are sure to get our college
acceptance rates up.” Principal Slater turned to- “I resent that. I can cook. I was just unavailable.
ward the door as Custodian Jerry backed into the And besides, at least no one developed the gawd
room whistling along to his music. “Can I help awful food poisoning we had at the catastrophic
you, Jerry?” Spring Bake Sale.”

Jerry spun the mop bucket around and went into “MoƟon accepted,” answered Diane.
a full on air-drum solo.
“You are not the President. So you cannot moƟon
“Jerry!” anything, Diane.”

“Now, now ladies. Let’s try to keep this meeƟng
as professional as possible.” Principal Slater ges-
tured toward Diane and Chelsea who were seated

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Adelaide Magazine

next to each other. “You remember how quickly “Weren’t we going to do something about the
the last meeƟng spiraled out of control.” new students?”

Diane and Chelsea both mumbled their apologies “That’s right, Chelsea. Thanks. We had decided
and gestured for Principal Slater to conƟnue with that each new student at Bentridge High will be
the meeƟng. assigned one peer mentor as well as one adult
mentor. This should help the transiƟon.”
“Now I think we need to address the aƩendance
issues we’ve been having lately. We’ll create a Chelsea stood for a brief moment and turned
finite number of excused and unexcused absenc- toward Jessica. “While we’re on the topic, are
es before penalƟes are involved such as missing there any new parents here this evening?”
extracurricular acƟviƟes. Diane, this parƟcularly
applies to your son.” Silence fell upon the room while all eyes seƩled
on Jessica. She kept her eyes glued to her busy
“And what exactly do you propose we do Princi- hands as she conƟnuously rung her fingers. She
ple Slater?” Diane massaged her temples in a could feel the stares burning into her. Finally, she
clockwise fashion. liŌed her head to acknowledge the sea of eyes.
She cleared her throat as she fought to find her
“I’m not saying anything just yet. Maybe we de- voice. “Heh, Hello everyone. My name is Jessica
cide on a number like aŌer five they beƩer have a Derby and I’m an alcoholic.” Jessica immediately
good excuse or we start banning them from aŌer regreƩed the lame excuse of a joke the moment
school acƟviƟes. And Diane, maybe you can have it escaped her lips.
another talk with Trevor.”
Silence.
“Yeah, okay.” Diane started doodling in the mar-
gins of her meeƟng minutes. Chelsea raised her Jessica conƟnued. “Okay. Not that type of
hand. “I moƟon that we create the ‘Bad Mother- meeƟng. Well, thank you for having me this even-
ing IniƟaƟve’ for all mothers of students that miss ing. We just recently moved here for my hus-
or are tardy for more than five days. Any member band’s work and I promised him that I’d be more
will be forced into cafeteria duty for one month. involved in our kids’ school, so here I am.”
All in favor raise your hand?”
Chelsea tapped Jessica on the arm. “Is your hus-
No one raised their hand besides Chelsea. band Paul Derby?”

Diane sneered at Chelsea. “I see what you’re do- “Yeah. Why?”
ing here. MoƟon denied.”
“He works with my husband. He menƟoned the
“Moving on.” Principal Slater flipped through the company was hiring a new CEO.”
stack of papers laid out in front of him. “We need
to address the new and improved policy on ‘No Principal Slater smiled. “Thank you, Jessica. We
Place for Hate’.” are happy to have you and to add some fresh
ideas. You will be parƟcularly helpful when we get
“Sorry, what was that again?” Chelsea yawned. to the fundraising porƟon of the meeƟng.” The
door opened again and Custodian Jerry burst
“Late night again Chelsea,” asked Diane. through, belƟng out a melody. “Jerry!”

“Coach Fenway had me out late again. But I’m not “What’s up Principal?”
complaining.”
“We are sƟll having a meeƟng here.”
“Back to the meeƟng ladies. ‘No Place for Hate’ is
our new no tolerance policy, Chelsea. It falls un- “Oh.”
der the anƟ-defamaƟon league. We will not toler-
ate any form of bullying, cyberbullying, or any “Can you just come back when all the other
demonstraƟon of hate. I assume we are all in rooms are done.”
agreement on this policy?” Principal Slater
scanned the room and was met by a sea of bob- “Already done chief.”
bleheads all in agreement.
“Well, find something else to clean. We got at
least 20 minutes here yet.”

60

Revista Adelaide

“Sure thing boss. Hey, Chelsea. Looking good.” their best for the compeƟƟons. AŌer all, they did
Jerry smiled as his eyes gave her the once over. place third at last year’s state compeƟƟon.”

Diane looked back and forth between Chelsea Jessica raised her hand. “Shouldn’t we direct
and Custodian Jerry. “Seriously? Him too?” funds toward the groups that have the most im-
mediate need?”
“Oh Diane, that was years ago. But I’m hard to
forget.” Principal Slater turned toward Jessica. “Why don’t
you tell us which groups you think those are?”
Principal Slater shooed the custodian out of the
room and turned back to address the other bored “Ummmm…well,” Jessica mumbled. “One of my
faces scrolling through cell phones. “Anything else kids is in the band and their uniforms are preƩy
I’m forgeƫng?” taƩered. Most have holes or preƩy bad stains.”

Diane interjected. “The transportaƟon iniƟaƟve. Chelsea scoffed. “Nobody cares about band
Weren’t we going to discuss that? geeks. Nice try Jessica, but clearly you don’t know
where the prioriƟes stand in this school. I’m not
“Ah, yes. Thanks. The driving iniƟaƟve. Basically, even sure why we have a band but I guess they do
we need to start taking some steps to create a play music for the cheerleaders to dance to.”
safer environment for our young drivers. The usu-
al stuff. Seat belt safety and texƟng while driving. “Well, they are actually quite good,” answered
Maybe we can add a special segment either to Jessica. “My daughter told me that last year they
driver’s educaƟon or gym class.” won second place at NaƟonals.”

Chelsea raised her hand. “Principal Slater. I can “They have compeƟƟons for band geeks? Clearly,
ask Coach Fenway this evening if he would be they must not be as presƟgious as cheerleading
interested in taking on that project.” compeƟƟons.”

Jessica shook her head. She thought this Coach Diane raised her hand. “I vote we set aside some
Fenway must be some good looking guy consider- funds for the theater department. The auditorium
ing how much the cleavage bragged about him. really could use some beƩer seats.”

Chelsea noƟced Jessica shaking her head. “Excuse Chelsea pounded the table to emphasize her
me? Did you want to add something?” point. “Why would we waste money on the thea-
ter? They aren’t winning any compeƟƟons.”
Jessica startled at being noƟced. “Nope. I’m
good.” Jessica raised her hand. “Maybe we could just
split the funds evenly amongst all the extracurric-
Principal Slater conƟnued. “That would be fine ulars.”
Chelsea. And on that note, I think I’ve covered
everything that I have. Chelsea, do you wanna “Sorry Jessica. I get you’re new and all. But that is
conƟnue?” a terrible idea. And besides, clearly, we should
also be using the funds leŌ over from the cheer-
“Will do. Moving right along.” Chelsea pulled out leaders to help the football team. They bring in
her sheet and started flipping through. “I have the most revenue. I’ll just ask Coach Fenway what
someplace to be this evening so we will just skip they need.”
to fundraising and wrap this meeƟng up early. We
have some leŌover funding from last year and Diane groaned. “Look Chelsea, we get it. You’re
need to decide which programs could benefit the having an affair. You don’t need to keep flaunƟng
most. I, for one, know that the cheerleaders could it, nobody cares.”
use new uniforms.”
“Woah, Diane.” Chelsea turned toward her and
“Didn’t they just get new uniforms,” asked Princi- placed a hand on her hip. “Do you got a sƟck up
pal Slater. your ass tonight or what?”

“That was last year. New season, new uniforms,” “Nothing is up my ass. We get it. You’re a slut.”
answered Chelsea. “The girls have got to look Diane turned toward Jessica while poinƟng at

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Adelaide Magazine

Chelsea. “She could never let go of that head Shouts were overheard. “Even with fake Ɵts and
cheerleader mindset.” enough Botox to poison an elephant, it sƟll takes
a man several drinks before he’ll engage in a sex-
“You’re just jealous. I see the way you look at ual act with you.”
Coach Fenway.”
Jerry dropped his jaw in shock from the insult.
Diane rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Yeah, give him “Oh man. I best be geƫng in there. You have a
my number. What I wouldn’t give to have a beer nice evening young lady and keep away from
gut receding hairline has-been sweaƟng on top of them women.”
me. Oh, yes, yes, yes.”
Principal Slater hustled aŌer Jessica with sweat
“At least I know what I want and I do something dripping from his brow. “Jessica, err Mrs. Derby,
about it,” snapped Chelsea. please wait. I’m sorry for all this. Our meeƟngs
are usually much more organized.”
“Yeah by cheaƟng on your husband. Mike is a
great guy and you are off blowing the football More shouts could be heard through the door-
coach. When my husband was sƟll alive, I never way.
dreamed of cheaƟng on him, especially with some
sleazebag.” “Diane! Don’t you walk away from me when I’m
talking to you.”
“Ladies, please,” Principal Slater interrupted.
“What is up with you two this evening? I thought “Then don’t disrespect me.”
you were friends?”
“Bitch.”
Chelsea placed her arm around Diane. “Diane and
I have known each other for years. We are pracƟ- “Whore.”
cally sisters.”
Principal Slater winced, then turned toward Jessi-
Diane shoved Chelsea’s arm off of her. “Best ca and smiled. “I really hope that you come back
friends.” and decide to be a permanent member of the
PTA.”
“Don’t you push me.”
Jessica knew she would not be back. These types
“Then keep your sluƩy hands off me.” of women were the ones she constantly avoided
at the last school her kids aƩended. “Thanks,
“I moƟon we nominate Diane for the ‘I can’t take Principal Slater. But I just remember that I have
a joke award’.” another meeƟng at the same Ɵme so I don’t think
I’ll be able to make it.”
“Yeah? Well I moƟon we nominate Chelsea for
the ‘I sleep with everyone because I have no self-
worth.’”

Jessica stood to sneak out of the room. This
meeƟng was too much for her. As she leŌ the
room, she was greeted by Custodian Jerry stand-
ing just outside and performing an air-guitar solo
with his mop. Jessica tapped him on his shoulder.
“I think you can finally head in there. Those peo-
ple are crazy.”

Jerry nodded in agreement. “Tell me about it. Few
meeƟngs ago a fight broke out between them
women and I hadda stay late to fix one of the
chairs they busted up. Made me late to my gig.”

“Well, I think they are headed in that direcƟon
again.”

62

Revista Adelaide

About the Author:
Brooke Reynolds is a veterinarian from CharloƩe,
North Carolina. When she isn’t saving animals,
she enjoys wriƟng ficƟon. Her stories have ap-
peared at such online and print markets as The
Scarlet Leaf Review, Massacre Magazine, Fantasia
Divinity, The Airgonaut, The Literary Hatchet,
Ghost Parachute, Riggwelter Press, and Every Day
FicƟon. Her story “Dr. Google” won 2nd place in
the 2016 Short Story Contest for Channillo. For
more informaƟon, check out her website reyn-
oldswrites.org. You can follow her on twiƩer
@psubamit

63

Adelaide Magazine

CHIME PHOBIA

by Helen Grochmal

Clary and Myra were friends, let there be no had refused to take them down from her paƟo
quesƟoning of that. Well, they were sort of before she went on her trip, although Clary had
friends. When one needed fresh garlic, the other told her how much they bothered her. The usually
would provide it if available. They would even compliant Myra had not taken them down imme-
feed each other’s cats when required. diately as Clary had thought she would. Myra had
said firmly that the chimes didn’t make much
In the reƟrement home everyone tried to be noise. The truth was that she was having trouble
friends with their nearest neighbor. It was proto- with her hearing aids and didn’t hear them, so
col, and one might need the other some sad day, she thought Clary was being silly. Clary was not a
since every day there was one of uncertainty. But bully, so she had nodded to Myra and leŌ.
denial was a big part of their thinking, although a
few of the bravest unnecessarily looked death in But she could not open her paƟo door in fear that
the face and either shrugged or sƟffened their she would hear “them” Ɵngling, they were that
spines. Denial was easiest for most of them kind, the kind that Ɵngled in your head, torturing
though, as their memories didn’t operate quite so you. Too bad there wasn’t a law that noise should
well as they had. stop at a resident’s property line; but no, chime
owning was not an illegal offense as it should be.
Geƫng back to Clary and Myra. Analyzing what
later happened, an expert might deduce that de- Well, Myra had gone out of town to a wedding,
nial had played a big part in explaining Clary’s and Clary was feeding her cat twice a day. So
inappropriate behavior. Clary had a blind spot, a Clary had merely gone over during her absence
trigger that would make her obsess and carry on and taken down the chimes. She thought that she
as if the devil were aŌer her. In fact she had might as well have peace for a few days. Three
looked evil in the face- and it chimed. She had days were beƩer than no days.
had a terrible experience with chimes in her 30s
that she couldn’t talk about. Since then she had The weather was beauƟful and Clary kept her
picked places to live in large part depending on if paƟo door open, taking advantage of each chime-
the neighbors had “them,” she hated to say the free moment. She thought of how she could disa-
word. ble them, maybe puƫng a bit of glue on the plac-
es they bumped together.
Clary had heard about a dust-up in the past by a
woman who had been stung by chimes too, that On the day before Myra was due back, Clary
Ɵme by chime-envy, but Clary had not been part heard a knock on her door. She knew the knock.
of that. She currently had her own problems con- She answered the door. Myra had come back a
cerning “them” to work on. day early. Pleasantries and thanks were shared
and Myra leŌ.
Her problem was that she had taken Myra’s
chimes. They were siƫng on her bureau. Myra Clary panicked. She had been ignoring the chimes
to enjoy the Ɵme provided by God for her relief.
Now she was plunged into the circles of hell.

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Revista Adelaide

She could be accused of vandalism, of unauthor- paƟo. Walking over without falling, Clary felt for
ized borrowing even. At the very least, the Minis- the place to hang the chimes in the dark. She
ter would visit. Respectability was important in thought maybe the neighbor’s light facing Myra’s
the community and to Clary. She writhed as some apartment would go on poinƟng her out to the
character in a Russian novel. How could she get world but sƟll she conƟnued. Not geƫng the
those cursed chimes back with Myra siƫng in her chimes to aƩach correctly, she leŌ when they
living room with full view of her paƟo? She could- were just hanging on. They were up anyway! If
n’t. Being caught fooling with them on Myra’s Myra hadn’t noƟced they were missing, she
paƟo would be worse than anything. Clary would would never connect the lopsided chimes with
confess all if caught. She knew herself. her.

Clary sat, looking out at the beauƟful day and She found herself back in her apartment. Her re-
haƟng it. Myra loved the out-of-doors. She might lief was extreme. “They” were back. At least a
be out there now and find her chimes were miss- theŌ charge had been averted. But as she sat that
ing. “Please, please don’t let Myra go outside,” day and the next, she thought that somehow My-
prayed Clary out loud, “at least let her be sick in ra knew. Maybe another neighbor had told her
bed.” she had seen Clary taking the chimes. The guilt
and pressure increased like temperatures in the
The day passed as if Clary were waiƟng for news desert as the day went on unƟl it was too much
of an execuƟon that was scheduled to take place, for Clary to take.
her execuƟon. She knew she was guilty. She
blamed Myra but knew that Myra had rights. The Clary waited two more days. She didn’t see Myra
wait hurt. She heard the chimes in her head, alt- in that Ɵme. That was proof that Myra knew. Eve-
hough she could touch them on the bureau if she ryone knew.
wanted to. She knew the terror the miscreants
had felt in stories like “The Tell-Tale Heart” and Clary cleaned herself up aŌer days of sweaƟng
“The Monkey’s Paw.” and walked over to the Home. She went to see
the Minister. Not asking for permission, she
The agony was terrible. Everyone would know, walked in his office and slumped in the chair fac-
her son would be told, she might have to move. ing him. She poured out her sin, her fear, and her
Could they call the police? Could she go to jail or guilt. She cried from her heart for help.
maybe get community service? She would lose
her home, her place in life, her cat. She could The Minister told her sternly that she had certain-
even be accused of theŌ, she who had always ly transgressed but not to the extent of her pen-
proudly stood in judgment of others in knowledge ance. “You must apologize to your neighbor if the
of her supreme innocence. spirit of the Lord takes you to that point and it
should. You are not being required to formally
The day passed and dusk came. Clary didn’t hear apologize by this office. Your family need not be
a knock on her door. She wondered if Myra had told. You did not deliberately hurt anyone. Rise
been on her paƟo. Maybe she wouldn’t noƟce the and get hold of yourself. Do not despair over
absence of her chimes. Fat chance! Life as Clary chimes. Ask your neighbor to take them down
knew it was over. aŌer you calm down. Pray for guidance.”

Darkness fell. Nothing would happen that day. Clary leŌ gratefully, thinking she would never tell
“Dear Lord, let me go over to replace the chimes Myra if Myra didn’t already know. She needed to
when Myra is asleep or let me die before I wake. think of excuses to tell her if confronted. She
No, no, I didn’t mean that. Don’t punish me any- would learn to lie. Hadn’t the Minister just given
more!” her permission? All would be well again, she
thought complacently. Her good opinion of her-
Clary got up many Ɵmes in the night, passing the self had returned, although maybe not her good-
chimes on her bureau. She waited for a liƩle light ness.
in the morning since she would have to walk on
the grass on uneven ground. She would be shield- The Minister doing his rounds among his flock
ed by bushes unƟl she got to the end of Myra’s suddenly found himself saying quietly under his

65

Adelaide Magazine
breath, “Oh, Lord, that was the second case of
severe chime disturbance requiring spiritual coun-
seling since I came here. What can be happen-
ing?” From then on he listened for the voice of
the devil whenever he passed the innocent look-
ing pieces of metal clanging or Ɵnkling or whis-
pering in the wind that seemed to be reproducing
themselves everywhere.

About the Author:
Helen Grochmal started wriƟng ficƟon in her 60s
when she moved to a reƟrement home. AŌer the
obligatory mystery novels complete with cat, she
wrote short stories in different genres to expand
her range. Six stories were accepted quickly, not
to menƟon being part of a group mystery and a
podcast. What can happen next? Short list where
published: Bards and Sages Quarterly, Over My
Dead Body!, Meat for Tea, Minerva Rising, Magi-
cal: An Anthology of Fantasy, Fairy Tales, and Oth-
er Magical FicƟon and No Extra Words!

66

Revista Adelaide

UNDESIRABLES

by DusƟn Pickering

Some nights are more intense than others. Any clear herself psychologically of guilt. She felt it
night Ms. Courtney Devra sang is one of those was unfair that he received pleasure by violaƟng
nights. Her voice is serene and hypnoƟc, full of her and she harbored a secret rage within.
fear and trembling. When she announced a tour,
her shows sold out immediately. She is known for This promised to be her finest concert.
requesƟng conservaƟve numbers at her concerts.
She preferred an inƟmacy with the crowd most However, she insisted only 1,000 seats be availa-
performers shunned. ble and sell at $300 each. She felt a sense of
vengeance in her veins and thought the only way
That is only one thing that defines her unique to control it was to limit aƩendance. The limita-
shows. Her voice—we shall say—is set rhythmi- Ɵon served as a psychological purge because it
cally with the heart itself. It pulses with the per- imposed her will to power. The numbers were
fect pitch, or as perfect as a voice gets. The press- shrunk only for this specific concert. Her female
es called her “Mistress of Melody” or “The Heart power clearly acted as an imaginary thrust against
of Day”. She took all acclaim with a grain of salt. the perpetrator who lived within her. Her power
Her humility shone in her face. Her voice not only was in seeking solitude against her shame and
rang with the heartbeat, but her virtue was peer- vicƟmhood. By refusing a larger audience, her self
less. She seemed from another world. -contempt was assuaged.

She announced a special last minute concert she She spent several hours in the dressing room
would perform in Atlanta. The proceeds she warming up her voice. It was like tuning an instru-
would donate to rape vicƟms. Half the profit ment. She drove to the show in a small Ford Fo-
would be donated to tesƟng kits in police hands cus. She drove herself because she felt independ-
that idenƟfy rapists. Tax payers had solemnly re- ent driving herself, and she distrusted chaper-
fused a tax increase to get rapists off their streets. ones. She parked the Focus in the rear parking lot
It was forced into waiƟng for private soluƟons. several hours before the concert. She entered the
Ms. Courtney Devra decided to perform for this auditorium quietly to assess it. She smiled, took a
cause because a babysiƩer had raped her at a deep breath, and reached out her arms. She
young age and he sƟll roamed the world at large. turned to its owner, Chrystal Turner.
She didn’t bother to report the incident—she was
told no one would believe her because of his “Fine place you have here! You keep it in good
good standing. He hardly seemed a sexual preda- order.” Courtney was short in stature and ap-
tor to most of the community. peared thin, but her legs were stout and strong.

She kept quiet but held a grievance against her “It was built in 1979. I have always wanted to be
world for the horror she faced. She lived with his involved in music…but my horn playing wasn’t
face daily. She spent years before her career to good enough. Lacked sophisƟcaƟon, I was told. It
probably wasn’t meant to be,” the owner said. “It

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Adelaide Magazine

is incredibly nice to meet you. I have heard so She put on a large golden dress with bright silver
much about your performances,” she said. gliƩer. She glanced at herself in the mirror. She
told the backstage handler she had never felt so
“Thank you,” Courtney responded kindly. Compli- beauƟful for a concert. She promised her best
ments were flaƩering to her. She felt humbled by performance.
kind words. “Humility is a great virtue,” she said
when the owner appeared confused. She spoke to the backstage manager before
geƫng on stage.
“It’s just that most performers are arrogant. And I
would expect them to be,” she said. “We recently “I feel like Cinderella. Only the ball never ends.
hosted Diane Bazz. Ever heard of her?” Courtney I’m just so enthusiasƟc about this concert. We
nodded. “She looks beauƟful on camera…but god, hired one of America’s classiest violinists.”
she is aggravaƟng to deal with. A perfecƟonist.
We couldn’t please her no maƩer how hard we “I heard him tune up. Graceful,” the stage manag-
tried.” er said.

“I’m pleased to be here…I don’t expect a flawless “I am so perfectly grateful for my life…” She
stage. Faults are inevitable. It’s ok to make mis- reached down and adjusted her shoe strap. Her
takes. But make things flow smoothly. Give it shoes were classy, sharp black velvet. They had a
character.” golden clasp on the top. She turned sharply to
glance at herself in the backstage mirror before
“We have a great surprise for you, Ms. Courtney.” she approached the right side of the stage.

“Please, drop the Miss…we are on equal terms. “I am so proud of the work we have all done to
We serve each other.” make this show perfect.” She fixed the long white
glove on her leŌ hand. She straightened the small
“How humbling! Well, I must unveil the surprise.” wrinkles in it. Then she tossed her dark auburn
Courtney smiled. “We heard you love fresh vege- hair and adjusted the small Ɵara on her head. Her
tables and salad bars. Is that true?” smile was radiant.

“Yes, it is. I especially like tomatoes and celery.” “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” said the
announcer. His voice, deep and resonant,
“Well, at my expense…I mean the company’s ex- bounced across the auditorium into the rear and
pense…we had a special high class salad bar back to the front. “We have a pleasant evening
brought to you. It’s backstage.” prepared for you! Miss Courtney Devra is back-
stage!” The crowd clapped loudly. “All Ɵcket sales
“I am uniquely…flaƩered.” go to a frequently overlooked cause. As an added
bonus, you are a witness to the finest show given
“Would you like me to direct you?” this year! Please welcome…Ms. Courtney Devra!”
The crowd applauded loud and long enough to
“Sure, I anƟcipate it.” Shortly aŌer she said these give the impression of a stadium of concert goers.
words, they felt awkward. Courtney walked on stage and liŌed her hand
abruptly. Her smile radiated and inspired the mu-
The owner of the auditorium walked quickly. She sicians who were in a box on the leŌ hand side.
gestured Courtney to a room directly behind the
stage. The lights were off so she flipped them on. “Good evening!” Courtney paused. The crowd
was silent. “Tonight I will confess. I too was a vic-
The salad bar was several feet long. It was pushed Ɵm of sexual assault. Years ago, an older man
against the back wall. There was a table and chair grabbed me. I felt afraid so I grew hard as ice. I
in the middle of the room. Courtney beamed. couldn’t move.” The crowd eyed her calmly in
high respect. “AŌer he fondled me, he raped me.
“Thank you ever so much….” She said. “Some of He was my babysiƩer…” She almost cried to re-
my personal favorites.” member. “I am beƩer now. I never reported it. I
was told…he had a good standing in the commu-
“We made a list.” nity, to leave it alone. I did what I was told.” She

“Great!” The owner leŌ quietly to give Courtney
space. She asked one of the backstage handlers to
show her the dressing room when she finished
sampling the bar.

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Revista Adelaide

held the microphone Ɵghtly. “If you know some- About the Author:
one who was assaulted, support their feelings.
This is a serious issue…we can’t turn away from it DusƟn Pickering is founder of Transcendent Zero
without injuring ourselves. The darkness is with- Press, a Houston-based literary publisher. He fea-
in!” The crowd cheered to express agreement. tured for Houston's popular Public Poetry in 2013
“Now, my first song was wriƩen by Bruno Ar- and was a Special Guest Poet at AusƟn Interna-
mant. It is a masterpiece of the finest kind.” Her Ɵonal Poetry FesƟval that same year. He is pub-
voice hypnoƟzed as would a lullaby. AŌer four lished in Texas Poetry Calendar 2016, Seltzer,
addiƟonal songs, the audience was no longer able ArƟsƟc Muse, and a variety of other publicaƟons.
to move. They were sƟll as ice. The theater grew He hosts events in the Houston area for music
dark. and poetry.

Suddenly, there were loud crackling noises. The
lights shot sparks and some bulbs cracked. The
show went on. She couldn’t stop her song. She
finally hit her highest note of the evening. The
audience sƟrred passionately. There was a loud
shriek and a woman cried, “He is touching me!”

The crowd sunk into a riot. They pushed, pulled,
and aƩacked one another. They forced them-
selves to the front of the stage slowly as they
yanked at each others’ hair and clothes. The en-
Ɵre audience behaved as if drunk or in a rage.
People were trampled. Dead bodies bled on the
theater floor.

In the end, no one survived. The theater owner
stepped out aŌer hiding in fear. Ms. Courtney
Devra was disfigured on the stage, her legs curled
beneath her and mouth exuding blood. The thea-
ter floor was topped with bodies.

In the rear of the theater, a dark man stood tall.
He was darkly dressed and held his top hat in his
leŌ hand. He laughed boisterously loud. The
sound echoed through the auditorium. The owner
balked in fear. She couldn’t make out his face.

He was a stranger in town. His face was sharp and
his eyes beamed a sky blue. His hair was a dusty
blonde. He laughed so loudly it hurt the owner’s
ears.

She shouted across the theater. “What’s funny?”

He flicked a cigareƩe and turned. He quietly leŌ
the theater through the rear entrance.

The owner fell into tears. “Why here? Why now?”
she asked herself. The theater stayed dark and
silent while she cried on the stage.

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Adelaide Magazine

THE FOREVER

LETTER

by Abigayle Thompson

That aŌernoon an invitaƟon was placed in the “What does Mable think is gross?” asked their
mailbox outside the Roney’s home. It was the Mom as she entered into the living room.
end of February, a cold day with clouds seƩled
across the sky. A breeze started to kick in, caus- “Josh kissing girls,” said Mable with disgust.
ing the grass to wave in the wind, there were
mud puddles, and clumps of dirty brown snow on “You kissed a girl Josh?” asked mom.
the edge of the road. The twins Jake and Josh
were the second youngest out of their six other “NO! Haha, but me and Jake want to know if we
siblings in their family. However, the invitaƟon can go to a party Saturday night aŌer our basket-
inside their mailbox would soon forever change ball tournament.”
their lives.
“We’ll see, it depends on if you can even stay
The mail usually arrived around about 11 in the awake by the Ɵme we get back. Usually you guys
morning, thus the leƩer had been siƫng there for are out,” chuckled Mom as she walked towards
awhile now. Their younger sister Xenia raced the kitchen.
Mable, the next youngest, to get the mail. They
always fought over the leƩers just to see if they Mable then walked across the carpet to the coat
had goƩen any for themselves. AŌer they had rack and grabbed the leash to take out the dog.
reached the mailbox, they came sprinƟng back She headed outside through the back door and
into the house, “Jake and Josh we have a leƩer walked Missy down the steps to a small red bush.
for you!!” they said waving it around in the air. While the dog was going the bathroom Mable
Jake went over to Mable and took the leƩer from heard a low hissing sound. She turned to see two
her. “Hey Josh, I think this is for that party Lane eyes underneath their back porch. The dog in-
was talking about at school. She must’ve stantly turned around and started to run towards
dropped it off today,” said Jake. the hissing, but the leash yanked her back at the
last second. A raccoon came out from under-
“Oh yeah, when is it again?” neath the porch and was approaching Mable and
she screamed. Jake’s face appeared in the win-
“It says.. this Saturday, you think we can make it? dow, he looked startled and scared. You could
Ya know aŌer the game?” said Jake looking up tell he was mouthing something loudly behind the
from the card. glass to their Mom. So she opened the back door
and ran down the steps with a broomsƟck. When
“Sure, but I want to come home and shower real she hit the raccoon across the head with the
quick before we go… for the ladies,” Josh said broom its head bobbed up and down. The coons
with a grin and a wink. tongue was hanging out the side of its mouth
while its eyes spun. Mom yelled, “Mable, hurry
“Gross!” screeched Mable who was siƫng on the dear, up the steps and into the house. Quickly
couch listening in. please.” Mable scurried, tugging the dog up the

70

Revista Adelaide

steps and onto the deck. As they were entering his notebook he climbed into bed and turned out
the house Mable turned back and saw the rac- the lights.
coon swaying, but waddling as fast as it could into
the forest behind their home. The sun shone through the curtains down the
hall. A scent of bacon and pancakes driŌed
Once back inside the home Mom said, “I’m sorry, through the air. It was Saturday morning and you
are you okay? The raccoon didn’t hurt you did could hear the birds chirping outside in the trees
it?” behind their home. One by one the kids woke up
and wandered down into the kitchen where the
“No, I’m fine. It almost bit Missy though,” said scent carried them. Dad was at the table seƫng
Mable. out cups of orange juice. Xenia was eaƟng bacon
when Charlie walked in to get some food. Bridget
“I’m glad you’re fine,” her Mom said with a smile. spilt syrup on herself and Mom was taking her to
As she said that Dad entered into the kitchen be- the bathroom to get it off her coƩon pajamas.
cause he had just arrived home from work. The Jake and Josh were both sƟll sound asleep be-
conversaƟon switched. They started talking while cause they always slept in unƟl about 10 a.m.
asking how each other’s day had been.
The schedule for the day was already set. It was
That evening their family parted their own ways. Dad’s turn to take the boys to their tournament.
Jake and Josh were playing a game downstairs on Charlie was coming along for the ride. Mom was
the Xbox. Mable was spending the night at Lane’s watching the other kids at home, while Caden
house for the weekend because she was friends drove himself to his private cello lesson. The ride
with her younger sister. Mom was teaching Xenia to the tournament was about an hour away.
how to make cookies in the kitchen. The smell of They played a total of 3 games. The first game
them baking in the oven floated throughout the they lost, but the next two they won.
house. Dad was on the couch reading the news-
paper and discussing the news with their oldest On their way back from the game they stopped by
son Caden. The third youngest child, Charlie was a quick restaurant to get some food before head-
teasing Bridget, the second youngest, chasing her ing home. “Will we have Ɵme to make it to the
around with a nerf gun. The baby, Adia, was party?” asked Jake.
sound asleep in her crib up in her room. Every-
thing seemed to feel perfect. The atmosphere “Yeah, and even if we did show up late Lane al-
was warm and you could feel the love swarming ways has long parƟes so it’ll be good,” said Josh.
in the air. However, much would change the fol-
lowing evening. “Just remember boys to make good choices. I
trust Lane and all, but you never know what could
Around 9 o’clock the evening began to seƩle happen. If it get’s out of control you can always
down. Everyone had tried the cookies that Xenia call us or just leave.”
made with Mom. The snickerdoodles were warm
and fresh. Then it was Ɵme for everyone go to “We know Dad,” they both said in unison. They
bed. Mom walked upstairs and tucked Bridget finished the ride back to the house in silence.
and Charlie into their bunk bed and gave them a Once they got home they went upstairs to get
kiss on their heads. Dad was rocking the baby ready.
while he read Xenia a bedƟme story. Jake and
Josh were told to head up to bed in 10 minutes. “Hey honey, where’s Mable? Is she home yet?”
Caden was studying at his desk in his room, asked Dad when he got home.
wriƟng something down in his notebook. He was
always wriƟng leƩers to his girlfriend who lived 4 “No, the Jenson’s said that they were going to
hours away. It was hard for them to see each take the kids to a trampoline park during the par-
other, but they made it work aŌer meeƟng one ty,” said Mom.
another at the New York Philharmonic Orchestra
concert. They were both big Orchestra nerds. He “Okay, sounds good,” said Dad. The boys walked
played the cello and his girlfriend played the bass. down the stairs ready to head over to the party.
AŌer he scribbled his remaining sentences into

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Adelaide Magazine

“We are gonna leave now if that is alright,” said and his brother had the perfect life and perfect
Jake. Dad nodded at them because he was in a family, but no one knew truly what Josh had ex-
conversaƟon with their Mom. The boys took the perienced. He always seemed to be the odd one
keys off the rack and walked out to the garage. out. Jake was the “beƩer looking” one even
They took Dad’s car and backed out of the drive- though they were twins. He also seemed to do
way. On their way over Jake asked, “Josh what’s everything Josh did, except beƩer.
up? You seem out of it right now haha.”
When Josh was five years old he was sexually
“Oh..I’m just Ɵred. That tournament swept me. abused by one of his cousins at a family gather-
I’m sƟll kinda pissed though that we lost our first ing. No one knew, but him. He was too afraid to
game. You saw how close we were,” said Josh. say anything about it. The abuser claimed that
they were playing “doctor” on him. In dark late
“Yeah, that was kind of a bummer, but hopefully moments like this, flashbacks could strike any
Lane’s party is good. She texted me to say their moment. Just then he felt in coming. His mind
parents leŌ to take the kids to the trampoline Ɵlted. Images flashed through his head. He felt
park and dinner. So we got the house to our- scarred. Unsafe. Defeated. Depressed. Fear
selves.” pulsed through him at every beat. His mind
swayed. Flashbacks were sweeping throughout
“Do you know who all is coming?” his dimly lit mind. Josh’s body was beginning to
shake. He got up and started to walk to the small
“No, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” said kitchen in the back of the basement. In Ɵmes like
Jake. They pulled up along the curb outside her this he needed to leave. People were pressing
house. The street was already lined with cars. It around him. Their bodies sweaty from dancing.
had already been an hour into the party. Usually “Hey Josh!” someone yelled from inside the
people didn’t show up unƟl aŌer 9. crowd. His fists squeezed and he kept his head
low. Not now, not now.. Is what he thought.
They walked inside. The floorboards were al-
ready vibraƟng beneath their feet. Lane always It always pissed him off though that Jake seemed
had the music going down in the basement. to have everything. Even if Josh wanted to date
There were people scaƩered throughout the someone it was hard. The flashbacks. Just a sin-
house. They walked towards the basement door gle touch from a certain person sent him into
and a wave of body heat floated up when they shock. People never even knew. Jake didn’t even
got near it. Lane was near the boƩom of the know. Although at one point he had thought that
steps. When she saw them she waved them Jake had caught on.
down the stairs. Josh knew that Jake was into
Lane just as much as she was into Jake. Although The room swayed. Josh opened the small fridge
they never dated, they had their special connec- in the mini kitchen and took out a drink. He sat
Ɵon. on the floor and took a sip. His head resƟng
against the cabinet. AŌer finishing a can he
Josh walked to the back corner and sat on the grabbed several more from inside. He wanted
couch. Jake and Lane were talking in the corner. this all to end.
Of course someone had brought drinks and she
was already offering him one. Jake was never a His body felt numb. He climbed the stairs, his
big drinker. He prefered to stay healthy for body unsteady. Where is some place I can hide?
sports. Josh on the other hand didn’t really care. He thought to himself. Jake came out of the coat
Jake refused the drink, but pulled Lane back up closet across from the room. He looked at Josh
the stairs so they could talk and check on the rest with a panic expression, then reached back inside
of the house. Lane had menƟoned that she didn’t and took a jacket off a hanger then walked away
want the party to get too out of control. Her par- saying, “Dude, Josh go sit down somewhere you
ents were fine with parƟes as long as no one got don’t look too good.”
hurt or too carried away.
It became a blur. The lights on the main floor
In the midst of all the dancing and fun Josh just were turned off. Bumping into dark objects. I
sat there looking dazed, as if he wanted to just need to hide. The closet. His thoughts and
be anywhere but there. Everyone thought that he

72

Revista Adelaide

emoƟons. Blue rays of light sweeping through his Jake walked over to the bathroom and quickly
eyes and swaying with the world. His insides curl- pulled off the coat and shoved it inside the bath-
ing up. Anger. Everything crashing down inside room closet. His hands hurt. Why? Why am I so
his head. His head hurt. The world seemed upset dumb? There was a knock at the door. Jake quick-
at him. No one would understand or seem to ly washed his hand, but not the image out of his
care. Blurriness. Then darkness. head. Lane was standing there when he opened
it. “Let’s go,” she smiled up at him. With a con-
Jake walked over to the bathroom and quickly fused look, but then remembering where he was
pulled off the coat and shoved it inside the bath- he took her hand. They headed for the stairs to
room closet. His hands hurt. Why? Why am I so go up to her room. A shiver went down his spine.
dumb? There was a knock at the door. Jake
quickly washed his hand, but not the image out of It was around 12 when Josh woke up. The stench
his head. Lane was standing there when he was horrible. He looked around, but it was pitch
opened it. “Let’s go,” she smiled up at him. With black. He reached around for the closet door
a confused look, but then remembering where he knob, but instead felt something sƟff and sƟcky
was he took her hand. They headed for the stairs by it. He didn’t know how he had ended up inside
to go up to her room. A shiver went down his the closet. What the.. he thought. He didn’t even
spine. remember making it to the closet. Opening the
closet door a stream of light seeped inside. Josh
It was around 12 when Josh woke up. The stench started puking all over the floor when he saw
was horrible. He looked around, but it was pitch what was laying next to him on the ground. On
black. He reached around for the closet door the closet floor next to him was his sister Mable.
knob, but instead felt something sƟff and sƟcky Her body was covered in blood and her eyes lay
by it. He didn’t know how he had ended up inside open staring straight ahead. She wasn’t breath-
the closet. What the.. he thought. He didn’t even ing. Had I done this? Had I just murdered my
remember making it to the closet. Opening the sister? Why was she here? Unable to think, Josh
closet door a stream of light seeped inside. Josh crawled out the closet, his body was shaking. He
started puking all over the floor when he saw laid on the floor. Was he crying? “Help..” he
what was laying next to him on the ground. On croaked out of his mouth. His body was too in
the closet floor next to him was his sister Mable. shock to scream. The main floor was deserted.
Her body was covered in blood and her eyes lay The floorboards vibraƟng against his cheek. Sobs
open staring straight ahead. She wasn’t breath- racked his insides. NO, no, no, no… This couldn’t
ing. Had I done this? Had I just murdered my be happening.
sister? Why was she here? Unable to think, Josh
crawled out the closet, his body was shaking. He Upstairs Jake was talking to Lane on her bed.
laid on the floor. Was he crying? “Help..” he “Yeah I hope you don’t mind, but when your par-
croaked out of his mouth. His body was too in ents called I told them that your sister Mable was
shock to scream. The main floor was deserted. going to a trampoline park with my parents and
The floorboards vibraƟng against his cheek. Sobs Katrina. However, Katrina and Mable just stayed
racked his insides. NO, no, no, no… This couldn’t here. My parents are away for the weekend.
be happening. They went down to Carolina for a quick business
trip,” said Lane.
Upstairs Jake was talking to Lane on her bed.
“Yeah I hope you don’t mind, but when your par- “Yeah, well I trusted you. Also I should probably
ents called I told them that your sister Mable was bring Mable home.. Where is she?” asked Jake
going to a trampoline park with my parents and trying to not look scared.
Katrina. However, Katrina and Mable just stayed
here. My parents are away for the weekend. “She should be in Katrina’s room, unless they
They went down to Carolina for a quick business went downstairs haha to party. However, I doubt
trip,” said Lane. that.” Jake got off her bed and said he was going
to look for her. Lane followed him down to Katri-
“Yeah, well I trusted you. Also I should probably na’s room. They looked inside. Katrina was
bring Mable home.. Where is she?” asked Jake sound asleep on her bed, but the sleeping bag
trying to not look scared.

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Adelaide Magazine

was empty on the floor. “Maybe she went to go and don’t remember entering the closet. I woke
get a drink of water or had to use the bathroom,” up inside of it, when I opened the door to leave I
suggested Lane. Jake was starƟng to shake, but saw Mable next to me. I started sobbing and was
Lane wasn’t paying aƩenƟon. The bathroom was too in shock to move. That’s when I was laying on
empty. the floor in the kitchen and Lane and Jake walked
in,” said Josh.
Towards the stairs Lane heard Josh’s sobs. “What
is that?” They went down the stairs. Josh was “Do you think you hurt Mable when you were
laying on the floor shaking. “Josh we beƩer get unconscious or in the period you don’t remem-
you home buddy, you look exhausted,” said Jake. ber?”
Josh was too in shock to say anything about
Mable. “Can you just drive Mable over tomorrow “It may have been possible, but I would never do
morning then?” asked Jake. anything like that to my siblings.”

“Sure,” said Lane. The two boys headed out the “You do know that you put yourself in a situaƟon
door and made it to the car. Jake started to drive where you didn’t have control of your body,” said
home. When they got home no one was awake, the officer, “ Jake, where were you that evening?”
so they headed up to their bedroom. Jake quickly
stopped by his parents room to let them know “Sir, I was downstairs at the beginning talking
that Mable was spending the night at Lane’s again with Lane. Then we came to this level to check
because she was already sleeping. His parents on the people in the rest of the house. AŌer that
thanked him then told him to go to bed. I got cold so I went to the coat closet and grabbed
a jacket. I went to the bathroom aŌer that, then
When Josh woke up Lane had called him. He was me and Lane headed upstairs to her room and
surprised so he called her back. What seemed talked. Lane had told me then that Katrina and
like reality last night seemed so far away like it Mable were here so we went to look for her, but
was a very bad dream. When Lane picked up the that is when I found Josh. He looked unstable so I
phone she said, “It’s Mable. Come here immedi- brought him home.”
ately. Bring your family. The police are already
here.” Was it a dream? It couldn’t be. Flash- “Did you have any drinks?”
backs. Red light. Drinking. Darkness. SƟcky.
Blood. No it couldn’t be.. Josh quickly awoke his “No sir, I did not,” said Jake.
family and Jake and told them that they needed
to go to Lane’s. Something bad had happened. “You do understand that both of you were to en-
ter the coat closet that evening. We will have to
When they arrived the police had started ques- go through further invesƟgaƟon. It could be one
Ɵoning Jake and Josh. Mable was pronounced of you or it could even be another vicƟm at the
dead on scene. Mom was in shock and sobbing party. Lane we will need to know who you all
into Dad’s arms. He brought their Mom out of invited. For right now Jake and Josh you are com-
the house so she could calm down. “Josh, Lane ing with me. Parents you can also follow officer
says that you were laying on the kitchen floor last Jenkin’s, he will bring you to her body if you
night sobbing, is that true? Right before you would like to see it,” said the officer as he went
leŌ?” asked one of the police officers. outside to talk to Jake and Josh’s Mom.

“Yes.” “Thank you,” sobbed their Mom as she tried to
hold it together. Lane’s parents were on their
“What were you doing last night Josh that lead way home. Lane was shaken up and her younger
you to the kitchen.” sister was siƫng around the corner of the stair-
well listening in.
“First I had gone downstairs. I was siƫng on the
couch, but my head was hurƟng so I went and AŌer about 3 weeks of gathering informaƟon and
had a couple of drinks. Probably more than I eyewitness accounts, there was enough evidence
should’ve. My heachache was geƫng worse so I to convict one of the brothers for the murder
tried to get upstairs away from the music. The of their younger sister Mable. At the end of their
closet was the nearest place, but I blacked out

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Revista Adelaide

court session Josh was going to be pronounced However, the jury then leŌ to decide who they
guilty. He was under the influence and in the thought was guilty of the crime. When they all
closet for most of the night. He hadn’t remem- came together, Josh was pronounced guilty. Alt-
bered her being in there at first, so the conclusion hough some facts were leŌ unknown. Everyone
was he murdered his sister while in the closet. was wondering how Josh was the guilty one. Jake
Just before the session closed, Lane, went up to always got away with everything. Lane was in
the stand. AŌer being too afraid to bring up what tears because she knew the truth. Jake somehow
she thought wasn’t real before, she spoke it now, was just trying to get back at Josh for being his
“The night of the murder I didn’t want to believe twin. Jake had always hated Josh. For some rea-
what I saw. I was outside at the Ɵme, helping my son the thought of having someone look the same
friend Miranda who was throwing up in the bush- and act very alike terrified him.
es. Just for a second I had turned my head and Josh broke down. He felt worthless. He was try-
through the window of the house I saw..” Lane ing so hard, but everything ended the wrong way
started crying as she spoke. “I saw Jake. Mable and now he was being punished for something he
was there, she was alive, but only for a few more didn’t do. The Judge dismissed them. For the
short seconds. I saw Jake hit her. She fell to the Roney family their world would never be the
floor, then I saw… I saw him pick her up. I..I.. I same. For the fact that Jake was sƟll on the loose
was so confused, but then I will never forget what and Mable was now gone. One decision can
happened next,” Lane looked down and clasps change the course of your life, just like how the
her hands in her lap. Roney family found that out.

“Please conƟnue Lane,” said the Judge. About the Author:
Abby Thompson is a senior in high school who
“I saw him with...a knife. He had cut her throat, feels that wriƟng is a way to express herself. This
but what was worse was that he turned. Just for is her first short story and hopes that she can
a second I had thought we made eye contact. reach those who seek for entertainment from
Then I saw him open the closet. I don’t know literature. In college she hopes to major in Interi-
what else happened in there, but when I came or design and Architecture.
inside Jake was in the bathroom. AŌer what had
happened me and him went up stairs. I started
drinking more because I was afraid… I wanted to
forget. I didn’t want what I saw to become reali-
ty,” said Lane.

“However, you couldn’t tell if it was Jake or Josh
because they are twins and it was dark out,” said
one of the lawyers trying to prove Josh guilty sƟll.

What people didn’t know was that while Josh was
siƫng downstairs drinking, Jake was upstairs.
Then as Josh was coming up the stairs and into
the kitchen Jake acted like he was pulling on a
coat from inside the closet. However, Lane was-
n’t in the room yet and neither was anyone else.
Jake had blood all over his hands. The room was
dark and when Josh thought he was running into
objects it was actually Jake who had kicked him.
Josh had then slipped and hit his head on the ta-
ble knocking him unconscious. Jake had then
took Josh and put him in the closet to cover up
the murder in which he had commiƩed. When he
went to the bathroom that was when Lane came
back inside, so he shoved the jacket in the bath-
room closet and washed his hands.

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Adelaide Magazine

DISSIDENTS

by Michael Malloy

Calvin Conkling and Suzie Hatchet were strolling tenuous relaƟonship to reality, like Marxist theory
the warm paving stones of Almaty’s “Arbat,” the to Soviet pracƟce. But eventually they found it, a
popular nickname for Zhibek Zholy, the pedestri- charming stucco building with big glass windows
anized central boulevard in Kazakhstan’s former looking out on a quiet tree-lined street. They
capital. It was a bright sunny day in May, and Cal- stepped inside, seeing the usual assortment of
vin and Suzie were down in the city for the holi- backpackers, expatriates, and hipster Kazakhs.
day weekend, having taken an Air Astana flight
south the night before. They were staying in the Hipster Kazakhs, thought Calvin—to think there
Hotel Otrar, a breezy modernist building in mar- was such a thing! It was like finding radical Io-
ble with concrete beehive balconies layered wans, or Sarah Lawrence Young Republicans.
across its edifice. They were Americans.
He set his messenger bag down on the table and
Calvin was admiring the artwork for sale on the walked up to the counter.
Arbat. Suzie was drinking fresh-pressed pome-
granate juice she had bought from a young man “Ya hochu…” he began.
operaƟng a juice press. The husks of spent pome-
granates, oozing juice and spiƫng seeds on the “We can speak English,” said the bearded, evi-
sidewalk, had been an irresisƟble adverƟsement. dently Yankee barista.

Young men passed by in short sleeves and blue “Oh, thank Jesus,” said Calvin. “Medium laƩe,
jeans. Women had nose rings and dyed hair—not please.”
many of them, but some. A teenaged Kazakh kid
with poofy black hair was strumming a cheap Rus- The barista bustled behind the counter, shooƟng
sian-made nylon-stringed acousƟc guitar, war- steam and pouring frothy black liquids from one
bling bard songs. Calvin held Suzie’s hand. receptacle to another.

“How civilized,” he said. Now this was a coffeeshop, thought Calvin. It put
Astana, with its grainy Nescafe half-dissolved in
Suzie smiled. She was wearing sunglasses. Turkish teacups, to shame.

“You want to get some coffee?” asked Calvin. Calvin and Suzie were visiƟng Almaty from Asta-
Suzie held up her half-full glass of pomegranate na, where they were ESOL teachers at an Ameri-
juice in response. can school. They were down for the long week-
end—Victory Day, the day the Soviet Union de-
“Well, I want some,” said Calvin. feated the Axis Powers. The guidebook—and oth-
er expats—had promised that this was the day
They made a beeline for an American-operated, when everybody busted out their old hammers
ostensibly hip coffee shop they had heard of and sickles, and Calvin hadn’t wanted to miss it.
thanks to the Lonely Planet guidebook. The shop Everybody said the holiday was beƩer in Almaty,
was hard to find, the guidebook’s map holding a the city that used to be the capital, before

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Revista Adelaide

President Nursultan Nazarbayev moved it in the markets, another plus for Almaty, thought Calvin).
1990s, aŌer the Soviet Union fell. It was a book by a Kyrgyz writer, Chingiz Aitma-
tov: The Day Lasts More than a Hundred Years.
They also said Almaty itself was beƩer. When Calvin could never remember the Ɵtle, so he re-
Nazarbayev moved the capital from the temper- ferred to it as One Hundred Years of Kyrgyz-tude.
ate south to the frozen north, many people chose She had learned a bit about the writer, a hero in
not to follow: arƟsts, hippies, creaƟves of all his naƟve land and quite beloved in Kazakhstan,
sorts. Anybody who appreciated reasonable also.
weather, fine architecture, and culture. Anybody
who didn’t have to leave. It was the bankers, busi- “He put all this commentary about the late Soviet
nessmen, and apparatchiks who moved north to period in the book,” said Suzie. “About the way
Astana, a charmless town that had once been the government repressed Central Asian culture
called Tselinograd (virgin lands city), and before and spent money on its space program while
that, Akmola (white tomb). shortchanging its poor people. It’s a good book.
Kind of a dissident book.”
Of the two older names, thought Calvin, white
tomb was closer to the mark. Astana was situated Dissident. It was a cool word, suggesƟve of seri-
in the northern Kazakh steppe, just below Russian ous young men in neoclassical Soviet buildings
Siberia, where winds were strong and tempera- smoking shiƩy communally-produced cigareƩes
tures could hit forty degrees below zero (Celsius and discussing in hushed tones the possibility of
and Fahrenheit—they met around there). As if to revitalizing communism following the death of
compensate for the climate, President Nazarba- Stalin. It suggested bootlegs of the Beatles carved
yev went on a building spree, financing elaborate into old x-rays (because that was a thing they did,
modern architecture with the state’s oil and natu- right?). It suggested being a badass.
ral gas money. The end result was someƟmes
called “the Las Vegas of the steppe” by people Calvin didn’t feel much like a badass. He also felt,
who had never been to Astana or Las Vegas. strangely, that the Ɵme for dissidents was over.
The Soviet Union had fallen. The country simply
It was a hard city to describe. Calvin liked to say existed under Nazarbayev now, as a corrupt but
that, although he had never actually seen “Mad contented kleptocracy funded by petrodollars and
Max: Beyond Thunderdome,” Astana was Thun- dedicated to the proposiƟon that great power
derdome. interests could be balanced and business could be
done. It was beƩer than Islamic extremism, pov-
It was cold. The people were cold too. Nobody erty, or civil war. It was probably, on the whole,
smiled. The men wore black suits, like they were good enough.
going to a funeral. The women dressed like con-
servaƟve, status-conscious telephone operators It was to such a diminished world that he had
from the mid nineteen forƟes. Everybody drove come, the previous summer, on a LuŌhansa flight,
fast, like they had someplace else and beƩer to to teach English. Knowing nothing of Central Asia.
be. Not even really knowing how to read the Cyrillic
alphabet. He was a bit less ignorant now. A bit.
Almaty was another world. A great deal looser.
Calvin was breathing easier. He felt like he used Suzie was busy slurping up the last remnants of
to in college, when he had backpacked across her pomegranate juice.
Europe. He had hoped that working in Kazakhstan
would be more like that. Instead, it was more “Hey,” she said, “did you ever figure out what
like—a job. song Meruert is going to play for the concert?”

He got his drink and sat down. He tasted it. Not Meruert. Three syllables: mare as in a female
bad at all. Not up to Brooklyn standards, but then, horse, ooh as in an exclamaƟon of surprise or
what was? Not even Brooklyn. delight, and yurt as in the nomadic dwelling place
of rural Kazakhs. Mare-oo-yurt. She was a student
Suzie was reading a novel, a vintage hardcover in in Calvin’s eleventh grade (their terminal year)
English she had found for sale by the steps English class, and a member of his guitar club. He
leading to a pedestrian underpass (pop-up book had started a guitar club because everyone was

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Adelaide Magazine

expected to do at least one extracurricular, and They were geƫng the tools they would need to
he had played a liƩle as a young man, in high read whatever they wanted some day, if they’d
school, in an anarchist punk band that fell apart ever be allowed to.
due to lack of organizaƟon.
Meruert’s song had been good, an unconscious
Meruert was good. In addiƟon to the guitar, she evocaƟon of Billy Bragg, Woody Guthrie, and Flor-
played the kobyz, a Kazakh relaƟve of the violin, ence Reece, filtered through the musical aes-
played standing up verƟcally in the lap, bowed. theƟcs of late nineƟes pop punk. It had acƟvated
something in Calvin, made his step lighter as he
Meruert liked American punk rock, the stuff that walked home aŌer school that day, made the
was popular enough to have made it to Kazakh- frigid steppe winds feel a liƩle less biƟng.
stan. So, you know, Green Day. But that was fine.
That was the punk that Calvin himself had lis- But he sƟll advised her not to sing it in front of
tened to in high school. Kazakhstan was far the school. Important parents would be in the
enough behind culturally that their pop music audience. People who controlled, well, preƩy
neatly intersected with his own nostalgia. It was a much everything. That was the thing about these
good match. post-Soviet states. They really did have shadowy
elites who pulled all the puppet strings. And Me-
Meruert was also a big fan of Viktor Tsoi, the part ruert was supposed to be going to a university
-Kazakh Soviet rock star who had died tragically named aŌer—you guessed it—Nursultan Naz-
young and had wriƩen a great many brilliant arbayev, first President of the Republic of Kazakh-
songs that criƟcized the Soviet system in simple stan.
Russian and simple metaphor. “Trolleybus,”
“Elektrichka,” “Changes.” His work made quoƟdi- So Calvin had suggested something else. Maybe “I
an Kazakh bleakness feel bearable for Calvin. Fought the Law.” Keep the rebellion present, but
general. Sneak your sympathies out there, like
“I think she is going to play a cover,” said Calvin. Aitmatov had managed to do in his books. Be a
“Something by the Clash, maybe.” dissident, in half measures. It was beƩer than no
measures at all.
Suzie nodded. She went back to her book.
All the same, though, Calvin was ashamed of him-
Calvin had not told her the whole truth. He hadn’t self. He finished his coffee. They sat in the café for
lied. He had just—rather like the old Soviet pub- a long while. Then they got up and leŌ, walking to
lishing houses—omiƩed. Panfilov Park, in the impressive shadow of a pale
yellow Orthodox cathedral made enƟrely of wood
Meruert had wriƩen a song of her own, one criƟ- and looking rather like some fantasy citadel in an
cal of the President. She had expressed sympa- old Dell paperback. The sun was shining, and the
thies with certain striking workers from the west Kazakh people they saw, despite or perhaps be-
who had been shot by government soldiers while cause of their comparaƟve lack of civil liberƟes,
they had been protesƟng. People had died. Calvin seemed preƩy happy. It was a warm day in May.
remembered when it happened, how afraid he
had been. Perhaps the country was unstable. It Somebody sold Calvin a ribbon, striped in yellow
was all well and good to sling a guitar and sing and black. He pinned it to his chest. Veterans
about revoluƟon, but revoluƟons in this part of walked the park, silver-haired, their blazers over-
the world had a way of leading to civil war, Rus- loaded with medals and ribbons. An old man was
sian intervenƟon, or Islamic extremism. He was a playing “Katusha” on the accordion, prompƟng
Yankee imperialist. He would probably get shot. circuitous folk dancing from the admiring crowd.
Somebody else was carrying an oil portrait of Jo-
But things had stayed quiet. Kazakhstan, like an seph Stalin. It felt weird to be an American cele-
old Lada well-maintained, just kept humming, braƟng alongside so many hammers and sickles.
however reluctantly. Calvin kept teaching English, But, aŌer all, thought Calvin, we were all on the
avoiding controversial topics like democracy and same side back then.
focusing on non-controversial yet sƟll irritaƟng
grammaƟcal topics, like the various sorts of Eng-
lish condiƟonals. It was all educaƟon, wasn’t it?

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Revista Adelaide
About the Author:
Michael Malloy is a writer and teacher living in
Philadelphia, PA, and have previously been pub-
lished in venues like Toasted Cheese, EclecƟca,
and Dans Macabre Du Jour.

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Adelaide Magazine

A WEEKEND IN
DECEIT

by BreƩ Kaplan

Late Thursday morning, Lee and Melinda were “Sure they seem happy—that doesn’t mean they
coming out of an art gallery in Chelsea when they are.”
saw their friend Hal embrace a woman who was-
n’t his wife. They came to a standsƟll on the steps “I just think we need to think about the implica-
in front of the gallery while they watched Hal kiss Ɵons of doing something before we start making
the strange woman before helping her into a cab. a mess of things.”
Lee and Melinda were both shocked at what
they’d seen, but for very different reasons. Lee “They already are a mess. It’s just, Jane doesn’t
was shocked because he’d never known Hal to be know it yet.”
a cheater, and Melinda was shocked because she
believed that Hal’s adulterous lifestyle was a thing Melinda was about to tell Lee that he shouldn’t
of the past. The incident came at a Ɵme of parƟc- be making this about one of his moral issues, but
ular interest as Melinda and Lee had plans to stopped herself when she looked up and saw Hal
spend the weekend celebraƟng their recent en- walk into the coffee shop.
gagement with Hal and his wife Jane at their
home in the Hamptons. “Hey!” he said, coming right to them. “Didn’t ex-
pect to see you guys Ɵll later.”
To remain unseen, they decided to sneak into the
coffee shop next door. They scrambled inside and Lee said, “Neither did we.”
took a seat at the first table by the door.
Melinda said, “We were just next door looking at
“I can’t believe it,” Lee said. “Hal?” some painƟngs.”

“I know,” Melinda said. “He’s the last guy I’d sus- “Anything good?”
pect of having an affair.”
“Oh, there’s always something good,” she said,
“And, poor Jane,” Lee said. “She’ll be devastat- “just nothing we could buy without having to
ed.” speak with the accountant first.”

“What do you mean she’ll be devastated.” Hal said, “I stopped in here to grab something
before I head out east. Gonna get some work
“Well, we’re obviously going to have to tell her.” done on the boat. Was thinking we could take a
liƩle sunset cruise tomorrow.”
“But why? I mean, isn’t that something we should
think about first? AŌer all this is a long-term, Lee said, “Jane going along, too?”
commiƩed relaƟonship we’re talking about here.”
“Oh, she’s already out there. I think she has a
“CommiƩed?” tennis lesson, and then she wanted to get a head
start on geƫng things organized. You know how
“I don’t know. They seem so happy together.” she is.”

Lee said, “The things she doesn’t know…”

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Revista Adelaide

“Come again?” “Don’t patronize me.”

“Nothing,” Melinda said. “Is she playing a lot of “What’s in it for you anyway. I mean, why are you
tennis now? I haven’t spoken to her in a while.” defending him like this?”

“Of course, she is. Every minute with lessons and “I’m not. I just want to make sure we don’t start
instructors—think I’m gonna need a second job … going around ruining marriages because of some-
anyway, Lee, I’ve been meaning to ask. If you thing we happen to see.”
wanna bring your clubs, maybe we can sneak out
on the course if the girls let us.” “Let me just ask you something, because I need to
understand where you’re coming from. If it was
Lee nodded. the other way around, you’d expect Jane to say
something to you, right?”
“You need us to bring anything?” Melinda said.
“Maybe a boƩle of wine?” “Well, of course I would.”

“Oh, no,” Hal said. “You know Jane. The woman “So, then what’s the difference?”
has more wine than Dionysus.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Lee. If you want to
“All right then. We don’t want to hold you up.” tell her, go right ahead.”

“See you guys out there,” Hal said, turning to- “Now you’re geƫng upset.”
wards the counter.
“Well this is a bit upseƫng, don’t you think?”
Shortly before she met Lee, Melinda had had an
affair with Hal. It only lasted a few weeks, and “Sure it is. And that’s why we have to say some-
wasn’t anything more than weekday mornings at thing.”
The Carlyle Hotel. Nonetheless it was an affair,
and Melinda wasn’t in the business of being a “Look, let’s just give it the weekend, okay? If on
paramour—at least so she thought. While this Sunday we sƟll think it’s the right thing to do,
was going on, Jane, who happened to be an old then okay, maybe we’ll decide to do it.”
friend of Lee’s, introduced him to Melinda as
someone she thought he’d like to date. And it Lee took her gently by the shoulders, and said, “I
turned out that she was right because not long love you, you know that? And I can’t wait to make
aŌer that, Lee and Melinda had moved in togeth- you my wife.”
er, and Melinda’s affair with Hal came to an end.
She and Hal came to the agreement that they “And I love you, too,” she said. “But let’s just hang
would never, under any circumstance, tell anyone back on this a bit. All right?”
what happened between the two of them for as
long as they lived. Lee said, “You’re right.”

They kissed each other and walked back home
together hand-in-hand.

Ten minutes later, Lee and Melinda walked down They arrived at Hal and Jane’s place in Southamp-
9th Avenue with their coffee in hand. ton on Friday just before noon. When they got
inside, Hal said, “Look who’s here!” and then,
Lee said, “We have to tell her. It’s wrong of us not “Who’s ready for a drink?”
to.”
Melinda said, “It’s a bit early, but what the hell.
“Do you have to turn this into one of your KanƟan I’ll take something light.”
issues?”
Lee said, “And I’ll have a double anything.”
“Look, it’s the right thing to do, and anyone in our
posiƟon would do so.” Hal went off to prepare their drinks.

“But how do we know what we saw is really as The foyer of the Long Island beach home was big
bad as it looks?” and open and had a neutral décor. They admired
an impressionist landscape painƟng by an arƟst
“Are you saying what we saw was a mirage?”

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Adelaide Magazine

they didn’t know. While Melinda had the ability Lee said, “SomeƟmes you never really know what
to appreciate the abstract, Lee always expressed anyone’s capable of, no maƩer who they are.”
the need for something to be figuraƟve if was
going to get any meaning out of it. Hal said, “It’s a choice he made, and I guess we
just have to accept the fact that he saw no other
A few minutes later, Jane came down the winding way of reasoning with his pain.”
staircase and said, “Hey there, friends.”
Jane said, “I have to admit. There’ve been Ɵmes
They said hello, got their drinks from Hal, and when I’ve asked myself whether or not life is
then went upstairs to the guest room. Jane said worth living, but then all I have to do is look over
that lunch was being prepared, and told them at Hal and I’m reassured that it certainly is.”
they had plenty of Ɵme to seƩle in.
Melinda said, “I think it’s only human to ask your-
Lee put his bag down and said, “I can’t even look self that quesƟon. That is, if you can keep your
at her without feeling guilty.” head out of your phone every minute.”

“Then don’t.” Lee said, “Can there really be any meaning?
When you consider all the lies and decepƟons.”
“This is a joke to you, isn’t it?”
Hal said, “In the end, any decepƟon on Earth is
“It’s not a joke, Lee. I just don’t think it’s any of just dwarfed by the vast indifference of the uni-
our business, and I want to relax. I don’t want to verse. In the grand scheme, what we do here is
get into this again.” really inconsequenƟal.”

“I don’t understand how you can say that? I Jane said, “Well, that certainly doesn’t mean we
mean, these are our friends.” should start killing ourselves.”

“You’re right. They’re our friends, and they’re “Oh, of course not. In no way am I suggesƟng
happy. And you know what’ll happen if we say that.”
something? Not only will they stop being happy,
but they’ll probably get divorced. Now, is that “What about the barber,” Melinda said. “How did
what you want? You want our friends to get a he do it?”
divorce?”
“They found him in a car inside his garage.”
“I want to do the right thing.”
Lee said, “If you’re gonna do it, that’s a good way
Melinda sipped her drink. She said, “How ’bout to go.”
we unpack.”
Jane said, “Is there really a good way to go?”
The four friends sat down at a table by the pool
and enjoyed the oceanfront view while they ate “Please,” Hal said. “Why don’t we talk about
salmon and mixed salad. It was a cool, overcast something more pleasant. We’re here to cele-
day in late September. Rain clouds loomed in the brate the engagement of our two beloved friends.
distance. To Lee and Melinda.”

“We got some sad news this morning,” Jane said. “Cheers,” Jane said, liŌing a glass.
“Hal’s barber—who he’d been going to for the
longest Ɵme—killed himself last weekend.” “Cheers,” they said as a collecƟve.

“Oh, that’s terrible,” Melinda said. They spent the early part of the aŌernoon loung-
ing by the pool. It was too cold to swim, but they
Hal said, “He was a great guy, too. And it’s tragic found pleasure relaxing in pants and long sleeves.
because he always seemed so happy, you know. At around four, Hal asked Lee to come down to
Not the kind anyone would ever suspect was ca- the dock to help him check on something with the
pable of doing something like that.” boat. Although Lee hesitated at first, given the
prospects of spending Ɵme with Hal alone, he
decided to go ahead anyway.

Hal led the way down the dock, carrying a red gas
can in one hand and a mixed drink in the other.

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Revista Adelaide

Hal’s boat was a vintage, eighteen-foot power- “I certainly think so. I’ve been very accommo-
boat from the 1950s. It had a wooden finish and daƟng. Last week she says she needs to go spend
the inside resembled a car. It had a prominent the week with her father in Florida, I say, ‘Fine, no
dashboard, with its various gauges and large, problem. Go right ahead.’ And then when she
white steering wheel. There was an American flag comes back, I try to iniƟate, you know, try and get
displayed at the stern, right behind an open, something going, and she wants no part of me. I
leather seated area. don’t know, Lee. I just don’t know what to do
anymore.”
“Was having a bit of trouble with the engine last
night,” he said. “We haven’t been out here for a “Well, try to hang in there. I’m sure things’ll turn
while, and I think I just need to swap out the around eventually.”
fuel.”
“Yeah, we’ll see.”
He stepped onboard and leŌ the gas can on the
dock with Lee. The engine, which Hal said was a “Just don’t do anything crazy.”
Chevy, was situated in the middle of the boat,
spliƫng the cockpit from the seated area in back. “Like what?”
Hal unveiled the motor from its wooden covering
and moved up by the wheel to try and get it start- “I don’t know.”
ed. He turned the igniƟon once, then twice, and
once again, but to no avail. “What do you mean, you don’t know.”

“I expected that,” he said, as he maneuvered him- “Forget it.”
self around the motor, making his way towards
the stern. He opened the gas cap and had Lee “Why would you say something, if you didn’t
hand him the tank. know what you were saying.”

Lee gave it to him and watched as he fueled the “I said, forget it.”
engine. “So, you guys haven’t been able to get
out here much?” “All right, Lee. Whatever.”

“Not since summer.” “Hey, pay aƩenƟon. You’re spilling gas.”

“Oh, yeah? Why not?” Hal said, “Hand me that towel. Over there, by the
bucket.”
“Well, to be honest, Jane and I have been having
trouble ever since what went on with her moth- Lee tossed him the towel and looked across the
er.” water. “You think we’ll be able to get out there?
Looks preƩy rough.”
“How so?”
The wind had increased and the rain clouds
“She’s just been—I don’t know. I’m not sure I moved closer to shore.
should get into it.”
Hal didn’t respond. He closed the gas cap on the
“She’s just been what?” tank and went back to the wheel. He turned the
igniƟon, and once again, got nothing. He paused,
He looked away. “She’s been distant,” he said. did it once more, and aŌer another moment
“Every Ɵme I try and get close to her she seems there it was, coming on loud, giving a roar just
so far away. And I’m not just talking about sex. like it was greased lightning. He pushed down the
I’m having trouble connecƟng with her on an shiŌ, revved it up, and smoke started pummeling
emoƟonal level.” out of the exhaust. He ran it for a few moments
more before he killed it and allowed it to become
“Have you spoken to her about it?” quiet again. He put the cover back on the engine
and said, “Let’s go see what the girls want to do.”
“I try, but she tells me she’s sƟll geƫng over the
death of her mom, which of course is understand- And aŌer an exhausƟng debate about whether it
able.” was too rough or not to go out, the four friends
came to the conclusion that they’d stay in and
“Have you given her a chance?” then tomorrow, if the weather called for it, they’d

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Adelaide Magazine

go out for that sunset cruise they spoke about. about maneuvering out of bed without making
They decided to stay in and watch a movie to- any unnecessary movements. Oh, this was ridicu-
night. lous. Why couldn’t she just tell him? AŌer all, this
whole thing was about being truthful.
AŌerwards, Lee and Melinda went up to their
room to get some rest before it was Ɵme to go for When the Ɵme came, it turned out that she was
dinner. Of course, that didn’t end up happening, right to be concerned, because she did end up
as naturally, under the circumstances, they ended waking Lee. As she got out from under the sheets,
up in argument. he turned over and asked her where she was go-
ing, and like a jazz musician, she played it cool,
Lee said, “If you don’t tell Jane, then I will. I can’t and told him she was just going downstairs to get
stand seeing them on the couch cuddling, like herself a glass of water, which, for her, happened
there isn’t anything going on.” to be some serious improvisaƟon.

“If we’re gonna tell, don’t you think we should let Hal was already by the pool when she arrived.
Hal know, and then have him be the one to tell The Long Island night sky was clear, making room
her? He should have to own up to it.” for an overwhelming number of stars visible to
the naked eye.
Lee looked away, quiet. “Okay,” he said. “I guess
you’re right. But please. I can’t keep it on my con- “Hal, what are we doing here?”
science anymore. The right thing to do is to tell,
and I couldn’t look at myself without doing it. If He came in close, took her by the shoulders, and
you don’t do it by tomorrow, then I will.” said, “If there’s any meaning in the universe, I’m
looking right at it.”
“Now you’re threatening me? What the hell’s the
maƩer with you?” She immediately backed away. “What are you
talking about?”
“I’m sorry, this whole thing’s just got me worked
up.” “Leave Lee. Come away with me. We’ll go to Par-
is, Barcelona.”
“Yeah, I can see that.”
“Hal, get a grip. I’m engaged to be married.”
Not much happened during dinner aside from a
lot of drinking and double-talk. Melinda spent “I sƟll have feelings for you. I can’t sleep.”
most of the evening worrying about the pressure
she’d put on herself to reveal what she knew to “What happened between us is over. It’s been
Hal. over.”

But, lucky for her, the pressure to make the first “Not for me it isn’t,” he said before he reached in
move was relieved by the text that was waiƟng and tried to kiss her.
for her when she got back to the room. It was
from Hal. He said he wanted her to meet him on Melinda pushed him away, disgusted. She
the deck by the pool at 1 A.M. to discuss some- should’ve known beƩer than to come down here
thing in private. in the first place.

Good, she thought. He was going to confide in her “Oh, what have I done,” he said, breaking down in
and admit what he did so she wouldn’t have to be front of her. “I sit around and blame Jane and her
the one to tell her. However, she didn’t want Lee mother for our problems, but really it’s me.”
to know that Hal was the one who took the iniƟa-
Ɵve, so she decided that she would keep this liƩle Melinda said, “You should know that Lee and I
occasion a secret. But with that, the problem of saw you with another woman.”
staying up unƟl one arose. She couldn’t set her-
self an alarm because she’d wake Lee. And then, “What. When?”
when the Ɵme came, she’d have to be careful
“Yesterday, in Chelsea. Before the coffee shop.”

He paused, looked away, and said, “Oh, her? That
was nothing.”

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“You said you were done with that. When we “I did,” she said, and wondered just how much
ended things we agreed it was a mistake and you he’d seen.
said you would never cheat on Jane again. And
now, there’s another woman. Who else is there?” “I’m glad. But why’d you have to wait unƟl one in
the morning to do it?”
“She’s the only one. And it was nothing. Really,
just a one-Ɵme thing.” “I didn’t want to embarrass him.”

“That’s not what it looked like.” “Well, good. That’s fine. At least he knows. But
Jane sƟll doesn’t.”
“You haven’t said anything to Jane, have you?”
“He told me he was going to tell her.”
“No. Lee wants to, and now I’m beginning to think
it’s the right thing to do.” “When?”

“But, please—it’ll break up my marriage.” “In the morning.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Hal. Maybe it’s “Are you sure?”
Ɵme to be a liƩle introspecƟve. It doesn’t take
Freud to know that things between you and Jane “Of course. Why would I lie?”
aren’t exactly working out.”
“I never said anything about anyone lying.”
“This all will pass in due Ɵme. I’m just going
through something right now is all.” “Okay, because it kind of sounded like it.”

“You just asked me to go away to Europe with “I’ve seen the looks you’ve given him, the way
you.” you laugh at his stupid jokes.”

He put his head in his hands and began to cry. “Lee, you’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m just here to tell you what I saw, and if I were “You’ve certainly been very protecƟve of him
you, I’d consider myself to be preƩy goddamn throughout this whole ordeal.”
lucky you found out from me and not from any-
body else.” “Well now he knows and he told me he’s going to
tell Jane. Okay? In the morning, it’ll be done.”
“What’s become of me,” he said, turning away. “I
don’t even know who I am anymore.” “Fine. But if he doesn’t do it, then I will.”

Melinda was in no posiƟon to do any consoling. She got under the covers, turned out the light,
She told him to go back to bed and get some rest. and said, “Go back to sleep. We’ll talk in the
She said if he was sƟll upset in the morning she’d morning.”
be there to speak to him, which was a bit disin-
genuous as what she meant was she’d in fact sƟll Melinda spent the night tossing and turning and
be there and if he wanted to communicate with couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d done,
her, it would be something hard to avoid. and how much of a mistake it was to say some-
thing when she was the one who told Lee it was
They said goodnight and went back to their re- beƩer just to leave things the way they were. But
specƟve bedrooms. it didn’t maƩer now. The damage was done, and
the informaƟon was out there, and there was
When Melinda got to hers, Lee was awake waiƟng nothing she could do to take it back.
for her.
She woke up in the morning someƟme aŌer Lee
“So, did you tell him?” got up because he wasn’t there. She stayed in bed
and looked at her phone for about half-an-hour
She stared at him with a glazed look in her eye. before she went downstairs and saw Jane in the
kitchen gathering ingredients for breakfast.
“I saw you downstairs with Hal. Looked like he
was preƩy upset.” Jane said, “Someone’s up early.”

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“What are we making over there?” “Me too,” Hal said, looking up and then turning
back to the engine.
“Was thinking pancakes. You okay with banana?”
Lee put his foot on the edge of the boat and said,
“S---------ounds delicious.” “Melinda told me about what happened last
night.”
Melinda walked around, looked out the window,
and saw Lee by the pool. Hal stopped doing what he was doing.

Jane said, “Can you believe we finished three “How could you do such a thing?”
boƩles last night?”
“Look, Lee. It was a mistake. I didn’t mean to—”
“You’re kidding.”
“You didn’t mean to what? I mean, what kind of
“It’s not much of a surprise, with how much Hal’s person does that kind of thing to their wife?”
been drinking these days.”
Hal was stupefied, puzzled. “Oh, to my wife?”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, your wife, what the hell do you think we’re
“He’s never been a big drinker, but I spent a lot of talking about here?”
Ɵme with my mother in Florida over the sum-
mer—I wanted to be there to take her to the Hal looked and stared.
different treatments—and when I got back I no-
Ɵced he’d be having more than usual. I think in a “I mean, she’s gone through a Ɵme of such sad-
way I’ve given him reason to. I’ve just been very ness. How could you do that to her? It’s wrong,
emoƟonal.” immoral.”

“Well that’s certainly understandable.” “Look it was a mistake. I should never have done
it in the first place.”
“But now I think I’m geƫng to the point where
I’m over it. It’s just life. Things are messy and “Is there anybody else?”
complicated, and you just have to deal with it.”
“Of course not.”
Hal came downstairs and walked into the kitchen.
“Are you sure about that?”
Jane said, “Hey there, honey. I was just telling
Melinda how we finished all those boƩles last “Yeah, I’m sure about it.”
night.”
“Did you tell her yet?”
“With that wine, how couldn’t we?”
“I can’t bring myself to do it.”
Melinda made eye contact with him for a mo-
ment and then turned away. “Why not?”

He moved towards the sliding glass door and said, “Because it’ll crush her. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“I’m gonna go check on the boat for a bit.”
“Do you even hear what you’re saying? You’ve
“All right, but don’t be long, I’m making pan- lost all sense of reason.”
cakes.”
Hal looked away.
Hal had managed to make his way down to his
boat without noƟcing that Lee was already out- “Listen. You’re both my friends, and I feel bad
side, siƫng under the cabana at the table where about this. But you’ve got to tell her, it’s the right
they had lunch the day before. Lee waited a few thing to do.”
moments and then walked to the dock where he
caught Hal by surprise. “All right. As soon as you guys leave—I swear. I’ll
do it.”
Lee said, “Thought everything was fixed?”
“Oh, no,” Lee said. “She’s the only one in this
house who doesn’t know what’s going on, and
that’s gonna change now.”

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Revista Adelaide

“Jesus, can’t I have some privacy? This is between “He did what?”
me and my wife.”
“Look, we never meant for it to happen, Hal, but
“Hal, it’s between everyone but you and your it did.”
wife.”
“How long has it been going on? I mean, here I
He looked defeated. “So, what now?” am, trying to sleep with you, and you tell me the
reason you can’t be inƟmate is because all you
“We’ll give you privacy. But you need to come can think about is your mother. And now I find
with me, and, like a man, you’re gonna tell your out it’s because you’ve been with your tennis
wife what you’ve done. All right?” coach—”

“Fine. I’ll do it. But you beƩer give us privacy. For “I didn’t know how to handle the guilt—I felt bad
God’s sake, this is my house.” about being with Carlos, so we ended things last
week.”
Hal looked out over the water, tossed his gloves
off, and then got out of the boat and walked up to “But you said you were with your dad in Palm
the house with Lee trailing behind. Beach.”

When they got inside Lee looked at Melinda, and “I was for Monday and Tuesday, yes. But Carlos
then to Hal, and gave him a nod encouraging him had a tennis exhibiƟon in Orlando, and he told me
to get on with it. Hal mouthed to Lee, asking for to meet him, and I couldn’t resist. So, we were
the privacy he said he could have, but Lee made it together for a couple of days, but I realized that I
clear that he wasn’t leaving because he was going wanted to be with you. And I told him we needed
to make sure this was going to happen now. to stop.”

Jane said, “Hal, before you freak out, I’m puƫng Hal was leŌ speechless as he watched Jane sip her
bananas in the pancakes, but I’ve set aside some juice.
plain baƩer for you. Okay?”
“Well,” Melinda said, “isn’t this comfortable.”
Lee looked to Hal and told him to get on with it.
Hal looked to her, and then to Lee, and said,
Hal thanked his wife for being so accommodaƟng, “Now that we’re geƫng everything out in the
but couldn’t go on with what he agreed to, which open, I think you might like to know that Melinda
gave Lee no choice but to take maƩers into his and I also had an affair.”
own hands. It was Ɵme to do what was right.
Jane put her hand on her hip and said, “Really.”
He said, “Jane, there’s something I need to tell
you.” Lee said, “You can’t be serious.”

“Sure, Lee. What is it?” Melinda said, “It was so long ago—before we
even met.”
“I think you should know that Melinda and I saw
Hal with another woman yesterday.” “Tell me this is a joke.”

Jane looked to Hal. “Is this true?” Hal said, “It’s no joke, pal.”

“Honey, I can explain. It was just a misunder- Lee said to Melinda, “How could you be so dis-
standing is all.” honest?”

“There’s no need to lie, Hal, because I actually Melinda said, “I wasn’t. I mean, I’ve never cheat-
have something I wanted to tell you—I’ve been ed on you.”
sleeping with Carlos, the tennis instructor.”
“You had an affair with a married man—Hal, of all
“You’re kidding. Carlos?” people. How am I supposed to trust you?”

“I’ve spent a lot of Ɵme with the guy, and what “Lee, I’m sorry. I was a different person then.”
can I say. He seduced me.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

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Adelaide Magazine

Hal said, “What goes around…” About the Author:

Lee said, “Hal, I swear to God—” BreƩ Kaplan lives and writes in South Florida. He
received his MFA from Florida InternaƟonal Uni-
“What,” Hal said, “you’re gonna hit me?” versity where he recently completed his thesis, a
collecƟon of short stories enƟtled, ExistenƟal Be-
Lee backed away. bop. His work can be found or is forthcoming in
Boned, Subtle FicƟon, and The MysƟc Blue Re-
He watched Hal and Jane embrace each other. view.
They apologized, kissed, and stood next to each
other as one.

Which leŌ Lee alone, with his head in his hands
saying, “I just never thought this was the way it
would end.”

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Revista Adelaide

A BAD MAN GOING
THROUGH A SAD THING

by Alan Kulaƫ

Her eyes were not blue. They weren’t green. everything was different now. My mother would
Must’ve been brown. She had brown eyes and redecorate before she ever finished decoraƟng.
she called me papi. Decorate, redecorate, place the furniture, redeco-
rate, replace the furniture. She would’ve never let
I’ll allow it. the couch sink, but the couch had sunk. Every-
thing else was the same as it was a year ago.
The turn wasn’t but a minute away when the
sky started sobbing. My cellphone screamed. My father rocked back and forth in the chair
Flash flood warning. The tempest had arrived. I in front of the fireplace. He looked like he was
thought about the hitchhiker I passed 20 miles geƫng ready to say something.
back. I’d pulled over to get a good look at her, but
her thumb was so repugnantly bent out of shape We sat in silence for hours; engulfed by hypnoƟc
that I recoiled in terror, swerved back onto the gyraƟons every shade of orange, and the pleas-
road, floored it. It’s been the loneliest drive. It’s ant, smooth deluge cracking against the windows.
likely she’ll drown tonight. I thought about that girl. Can’t believe she called
me papi.
The cross atop the ranch was gone. I parked
outside and counted the steps from car to porch. She was at the bar; I was at the bar myself. I saw
One, two, three, I stopped counƟng. The socks her standing at the bar, and I checked her out
inside my shoes were wet. My bones were drip- unƟl she noƟced me. She noƟced me. I made sure
ping wet. she saw me noƟcing her noƟcing me, and I hit on
the woman to the leŌ of me, and I hit on the
My father opened the door before I had a woman to the right of me, and I looked up and
chance to knock. there she was. She was staring at me.

“No umbrella?” “Papi.”

“No umbrella. Happy birthday.” “What?”

“Only pussies carry umbrellas. Get in.” “Papi.”

He leŌ the door open and went for a towel. “Oh.”
By the Ɵme he returned I had already stripped
naked. He took one look at me, shook his head, I thought maybe my father would like to hear
threw the towel at my feet, threw a change of this story.
clothes onto the towel, and leŌ for the living
room. I dried off and changed, and I joined him. “Wanna hear a funny story?”

I sat on the couch, I sunk into the couch. The “Be damn sure it makes me laugh.”
couch was sƟll a couch, but it sure felt
like my father’s bed. No other thing had changed; “Nevermind.”

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Adelaide Magazine

He grunted. “Okay. So, I was, you know, with this gor-
geous lady, you know, just this beauƟful woman,
“By the way. Thanks for coming. Hopefully you know, beauƟful body, and beauƟful, bright,
you won’t have to do it again.” ocean blue eyes. Just like Janie’s. Anyway, while
we were, you know, fucking, she kept calling me
“What do you mean?” papi. Anyone ever call you papi?”

I watched his mouth open and I watched his He tensed up, his eyes narrowed, he finished his
mouth close and I watched his mouth open and I drink, and that was it. The party ended right then
watched his mouth close. and there. I wanted to be sure. I listened to every
dramaƟc step en route to the relieving sound of
I watched his mouth open. his door slamming. There, I was at peace. I drank
for the both of us.
“I want to die, son.”
I drank and I drank some more. I cracked open a
I watched his mouth close and I thought second boƩle. Winds whispered through the
about my cat. Brown cat, heavy set, stolen goods cracks in the foundaƟon; there was no escaping
– catnapped from the local bodega one Tuesday the boiling keƩles. The storm intensified and the
previous. Dear cat, my mate, I didn’t leave you power went out. A piƟful flame was all that re-
any food. If you’re craŌy enough to survive I’ll mained. Grasping, flickering. I stared into the pit.
return you to the bodega and collect my reward. Only a maƩer of Ɵme, only a maƩer of inacƟon. I
sat there as orange and red lost their ground to
“What?” midnight blue and grey. I sat there and leaned
forward, hands held out, feeling for warmth from
“I want you to end it for me.” a source reduced to a useless, solitary ember.
SuffocaƟng. I took a swig and stomped it out. My
“I’m not going to kill you, Dad.” eyes slowly adjusted. The darkness had phospho-
rescent undertones; the glow, ominous and lan-
“You had no problem killing Janie.” guid, crept into the living room, and I felt an in-
tensity, a comfort; I basked in it, I toasted myself,
“That was an accident.” I drank to it. The transformaƟon was complete. I
took my seat and finished off the boƩle in hand. I
“Up for another accident? Sit back, I’ll get the could sƟll see everything as clear as before; it was
whiskey.” colder, but quieter. In the loneliness there was a
profound calm, an uncondiƟonal surrender. I con-
“Fuck off.” sidered my father’s request. I was on a train once,
witness to the most brilliant display of humanity.
“What? You’re not gonna drink with your ol’
man on his birthday?” The most brilliant display of humanity:

“Stop it.” A man, shaƩered, taƩered, bloƩed, announces
himself to the commuters of the train as a home-
“Oh, lighten up. It’s just a drink. Then maybe you less diabeƟc who has a week, maybe two weeks
could take me for a ride. The condiƟons are right leŌ. He isn’t asking for immortality, a couple coins
up your alley.” is all. He gives his speech and makes his way
down the train cart, hat in hand. Some of us hope
A flash in my periphery. Seconds later, a it’s true. He looks the part. As he gimps around,
boom and a quake. My father fetched the whis- we do our best to imagine that the diabetes has
key. The boƩle was more than half-full; it remind- already killed him and that he isn’t here at all, less
ed me of my youth. Every night I would raid the than a poltergeist even. He makes it to the end
liquor cabinet, drink less than half of whatever and almost has his hand on the handle to the next
boƩle was already opened, water it down to cov- cart when a man in slumber liŌs a heavy wing.
er my tracks. VicƟmless crime. Whiskey was the
hardest to disguise because the tap water was
never brown. Whiskey was my favorite. He
poured two glasses.

“So. What’s your funny story.”

I took a swig and cleared my throat.

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Revista Adelaide

“Lean close.” About the Author:
Alan Kulaƫ lives and writes in Queens.
The homeless man leans close.

“You want Valium? It’ll help you forget. It’ll
help you go to sleep.”

The homeless man pulls away for a moment,
looks the other in his shut eyes, and slowly nods.
The man in slumber slowly nods back. In a sweat-
pant pocket he keeps a song for the vagrant and
the derelict, and so plays the maraca of memories
forgoƩen. He reveals the pill boƩle and dumps
Valium into the homeless man’s hat. The home-
less man grasps the handle and phases into the
next cart. The conductor speaks. The train listens.
My stop. Papi. SƟll can’t believe she called me
that.

In the front console of my car sits enough pre-
scripƟon pills to stop my father’s heart ten Ɵmes
over. Ten dead fathers, all of them mine. Check.
Crush the pills into fine-powder, fine-powder wa-
ter glass, turn off the tap, just force it down his
fucking throat. That’s it. I see the man in slumber.
Is he not the pride of God? To the car and back,
check check check.

But the storm outside is relentless, a sin to steal
its thunder, to soak it in, to soak in it. Soak it in
and soak in it. A sin. I sink deeper into my father’s
couch, wet my lips and kiss the bloodstained glass
of his storefront mirage. NoƟce: sans taste, dis-
play an umbrella. Maybe then my car wouldn’t
feel so far.

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Adelaide Magazine

SOMEDAY I’LL BE
PRESIDENT

by Daniel White

What to do? What to do? That was the quesƟon. And then we walked home. I said goodbye to the
guys. They were busy tomorrow, job interviews
Today we would graduate together, Michael, already lined up, they claimed. They might call me
Charles, Tony and I. All gentlemen. Scholars, may- if they had the Ɵme. I could see in their eyes the
be. Learned, to a degree. Admired by the ladies, big scare had goƩen to them.
certainly.
The day was sƟll young. Trees swayed in the wind
We endured the fanfare, wearing cap and gown, and cars passed slowly up and down the road.
the orchestra playing, and all those speeches, the Hanford was not a big town, although it was a
boring speeches they make you sit through. I university town. The students easily outnum-
smiled, but for a moment, realizing I’d never have bered the residents. I had lived in this town since
to go to school again now that my university days before I could remember. My father was a profes-
were over. Tomorrow, like it or not, I’d have to sor and also an expert on the big scare speech.
open the newspaper and look for a job. And I was But he had his own version, which inevitably end-
preƩy certain that what I’d studied and what they ed with only two opƟons: find a job or join the
wanted in the job market didn’t match. What to army.
do? That was the quesƟon.
I turned down an alley before coming to my
Then we stood and threw our caps in the air. You street. I wasn’t in any hurry to go home. I took off
have to be careful because you can poke an eye my gown and threw it over a bridge into the river
out. I aimed mine at the president. He swiveled and watched for a moment as the rapids carried it
around to talk to someone behind him and I only away. I loosened my Ɵe. I took of my shoes and
nailed his ear. I was irked. I’d missed my one shot. walked barefoot past all the liƩle houses in a row,
There would never be a next Ɵme. It wasn’t like all so idenƟcally upseƫng. Outside town I came
he could expel me at this point, although he’d to a factory. This is where my high school pals,
tried rouƟnely. Mary and Tom, worked. They’d never passed the
entrance exam to the university. I was sure, aŌer
He approached me from the side of the auditori- four years of punching the clock, they had a lot
um. Then came the ‘big scare’ speech. This is the more money in the bank than I did.
speech they like to give you about the real world.
It’s the one intended to get back at all the stu- I waited around for them to come out. We usually
dents who never listened in classes, who never sat under the trees across the road and chewed
even went to classes, who saw university Ɵme as on sandwiches together. Then the whistle would
merely a Ɵme to have fun. He told me how hard it blow and back to the grind they would go. They
is out there, how I'm not likely to find a job, or if I seemed happy enough. I’m sure the big scare
do, it won’t pay. I’ll end up working at a gas sta- meant nothing to them.
Ɵon because I didn’t care. I should have studied
harder. I couldn’t speak for the other chaps in Mary came out first. Tom joined us at the bench
school, but the big scare was a joke. five minutes later.

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Revista Adelaide

“What to do?” I asked. The quesƟon came back to “What we need is simple. We’ve working on this
me Ɵme and again. prototype. You know what I mean when I say pro-
totype?” He looked at me like I was stupid.
“Find a job,” Tom said and sighed. Mary sighed
too. I couldn’t sigh. I was too Ɵed up inside. I eyed the door and though about walking out. I
pulled a folded copy of my diploma out of my
“I heard they need a volunteer in markeƟng. It’s pocket and handed it to him. The copy was
just a one day job. Probably doesn’t pay much. smeared with coffee in the corner.
You do some kind of product tesƟng,” Mary said.
“Oh! Fresh meat. Good. I see you like coffee.
A one day job. It sounded beƩer than enlisƟng in You’re going to fit in really well here.”
the army. “It might keep my father off my back.”
“I heard this job is only for a day?”
“And it could work into something beƩer,” Tom
chipped in, always the opƟmist. “Yes, a day. But it could work into more. Do you
have any interest in a management posiƟon? We
“Could…” I said and my voice trailed off. I sighed. might have something like that available down
Finally. the road. That is, if you’re ready to impress us.”

Maybe there was hope aŌer all. The big scare was There is was, the big lie. It came out of nowhere,
just a joke, I reminded myself. when I least expected it. But I hadn’t studied po-
liƟcal science for nothing. I knew at job interviews
And product tesƟng? I should have paid more they always offered you a management posiƟon.
aƩenƟon in business class. I should have tried It was only an offer, aŌer all. It was meant to mo-
going to class. The professor, Dr. BeƩe, she’d Ɵvate you, to get you to work harder, for less. You
been kind of hot. I liked the way she always wore might never see a management posiƟon in a hun-
a long scarf around her neck, even on steamy dred years.
days. I oŌen imagined she was hiding something,
like a suicide scar. Or maybe she was really a vam- “Sounds important,” I said with a fat smile, laying
pire. MarkeƟng was tricky stuff. it on thick.

The whistle blew, cuƫng through the air like a I’d be running this company someday. LiƩle did
heat-seeking missile. Target acquired. Mary and the bald man across the desk know that when
Tom had to go back inside. I got the direcƟons to that day came, I’d walk in this office and fire him.
markeƟng and said I’d look into it. I couldn’t wait. How’s that for moƟvaƟon?

“See you here tomorrow, same place, same “Great. Can you start tomorrow?”
Ɵme,” Tom said.
He’d seen right through my smile. I’d beƩer start
The fact that I’d graduated today hadn’t really working on my own version of the big scare as
sunk in. Mary kicked him. “Oh!” soon as I got home.

I went home. I wasn’t ready to meet the mar- “Not a problem. Do I need to bring anything?” I’d
keƟng department yet. Then I came back, aŌer I’d already stood up and was shaking his hand.
changed my clothes. I knew a job interview, even
a simple one, went beƩer when you dressed up, “Nope. Dress casual. We’ll provide lunch. Sand-
but I also knew I talked beƩer when I was relaxed. wiches. If you like the project, we could extend
It was just a volunteer posiƟon. No need to take it the job for a second day. No pressure, though. It
too seriously. all depends on you.”

“Hello. Your name is Harrison? Like the Beatles?” Wait a minute. That sounded sincere. Where was
a bald guy asked me while looking at my applica- this coming from?
Ɵon.
I nodded at him and turned to go.
I nodded. We were seated in an office with the air
condiƟoning blasƟng. I felt a liƩle cold. Probably it “Do you want the door closed?” I asked before I
was just my nerves. walked out. He smiled, a real smile, and I let the
door to his office slip quietly shut.

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Adelaide Magazine

“Well?” Mary asked. She was waiƟng by the wa- talk to anyone about what you’ll be doing here
ter cooler. “Will you be back?” today. It’s a clause that keeps you from running to
our compeƟtors and offering to spill the beans for
“I will,” I said and nodded at her. 30 pieces of silver.”

“What’s the job? It’s product tesƟng, like I said, He looked at me like he was waiƟng for me to
right?” laugh. I nodded, clueless. His face went blank and
he got up.
I thought about it for a minute. I hadn’t asked. I
hadn’t even asked about geƫng paid. Then I “Follow me, Mr. Turner.”
sighed. At least I’d have something to tell my fa-
ther. I had a job lined up already. Never mind the We walked down a hall unƟl we came to another
details, dad. I’ll be fine. I’ve got a copy of the big room that looked just like the one we’d leŌ. On
scare speech I’m working on right here in my back the table were a couple of cases. And a panel with
pocket. I’m just waiƟng for the ink to dry before I some sockets. All low-tech looking stuff.
show it to you.
“Take a seat. Do you want any coffee? I’ll be back
II in a minute.” He walked out before I could an-
swer.
It was early the next morning, too early for my
taste, when I arrived back at the human resources I glanced at the test instrucƟons. I was to open
office. A woman sent me down a hall and I waited the cases aŌer the test started, not before. Check.
for Mr. Bald Guy outside the farm of cubicles they Then I’d have to plug the chips into the sockets.
referred to as the markeƟng department. Check. Ask a series of quesƟons into the micro-
phone. Don’t worry about marking down the re-
“Here are the consent forms. By singing these, sponses. It would all be recorded. The gist off it
you’ll be employed as a volunteer for one day. Do was that I need to complete the same set of ques-
you have a pen?” Ɵons with different combinaƟons of chips. I would
need to be careful I didn’t repeat the same com-
Mr. Bald Guy was all professional once more. You binaƟon twice.
couldn’t have found an ounce of courtesy in him
if you’d had a magnifying glass. By now, I was I had a feeling like they were tesƟng something
geƫng used to his act. Serious one moment, else, other than the technology in front of me. I’d
friendly the next. paid enough aƩenƟon in school to know that
when they say you’re taking test A, in fact, you’re
“Sign here. And here. And once more. We need really taking test B. I wasn’t fooled for a moment.
triplicate copies. Do you want a copy for your- I was a university graduate. The reason they
self?” couldn’t tell you that you were really taking test B
was because that would upset the results.
“No, thank you.”
The task was simple enough. Mr. Bald Guy re-
“And did you read anything you just signed?” turned with a fresh cup of coffee.

“Yes, I did.” I had no clue what I’d just signed. I’d “Did you read all the instrucƟons? Ready to get
put my name on a lot of tests in school, too. Had- started?”
n’t look at those very closely, either.
“Yes, I am,” I said, not able to shake the formality
He smirked. I thought I saw a shade of the real out of my voice. This was my first day on the job.
guy I’d talked to before, the real him. Then he It was the first day of my working life.
was back to all serious again.
He looked at me like I was a rat about to enter a
“Harrison Turner,” he said, eyeing my signature. maze. I took a sip of coffee. Then he soŌened.
“Huh.” The nice Mr. Bald Guy appeared.

“You can call me Mr. Turner.” “Listen. We really appreciate the Ɵme you’re tak-
ing to do this. It’s just that we only get so much
“I’m sure you noƟced the part that says you can’t money for new product development. Most of it

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Revista Adelaide

gets sucked up by MarkeƟng. What you see be- QuesƟon One: Do you find it difficult to introduce
fore you are personality chips. Each chip is a yourself to other people?
different type of personality. We need to have
them tested in each possible combinaƟon, for “No.”
example, extroversion combined with sincerity,
introversion combined with gullibility, something The thing answered. I stopped and looked closer
like that. We’d have put together a simulaƟon, at the circuit. I hadn’t expected to get an answer.
but the thing is, as the soŌware works, it learns It was a liƩle creepy. I’d figured a light or two
from experience and rewrites itself. We had to would flash, indicaƟng yes or no. Nobody had
put the stuff we didn’t want rewriƩen into hard- warned me about this.
ware. And, I hope you don’t mind me saying so,
it’s cheaper to hire a recent grad to do this than it The voice sounded almost feminine. It was a digi-
is to pay a guy over at MIT to write a simulaƟon. tal voice, for sure, and it had a higher pitch and a
By the way, you’ll get paid for this.” bit of wanƟng-to-talk aƩached to it. I decided to
go off script. Screw geƫng paid. It would be
My eyes were glued to his face. I could feel the worth it if I could engage the thing in real conver-
coffee already taking hold. It took a moment for saƟon.
me to snap out of it. He’d said something about
money. That was good. Dad would be proud of “Would you like to explain your answer?” I asked.
me. My first paycheck. I took another sip of
coffee. I sat back. I could get used to this. There was a pause in the flickering lights. The
hum coming from the circuit moved up a notch. I
“Any quesƟons?” half expected Mr. Bald Guy to walk back in the
room and throw me out. I looked around. I wasn’t
“Let’s start,” I said and brushed the hair out of my being videotaped. I didn’t see any two-way glass. I
eyes. took another sip of coffee and waited.

He shook my hand, walked out, and locked the “I’m afraid.”
door behind him.
Now we were geƫng somewhere. “Afraid of
what?”

III Again the lights paused. The hum downshiŌed. I
looked under the table to see if there were any
I opened the first case. The chips were preƩy cables running from the circuit out of the room.
standard looking. They had long numbers on Nothing. I didn’t see any antennas, either. This
them, which made it a liƩle confusing. I had a thing really had talked to me. The speaker was
form in front of me where I could write down the Ɵny, but I could see it resonate with each word.
numbers. To keep the test pure, they hadn’t told
me which chip was which. To keep from mixing “They will sell me. I’ll be mass produced and
them up, I decided I needed more than just num- shipped everywhere.”
bers. On the back of the paper I wrote down the
numbers from the chips and next to them I put I heard a tremble in the voice. This was geƫng a
names. Chip #495272352df44, the first one in the liƩle too serious. I had to stop and think for a mo-
case, I labeled ‘the heart’. The second chip I called ment about what to say next. Then I laughed. This
‘the lungs’. was nothing more than the big scare at work.

As instructed, I picked up the heart and the lungs “Just breathe,” I said, looking at the chip I’d called
and plugged them into the panel and pushed a the lungs. This thing had heart, that was sure. I
buƩon. It hummed. A few lights on the side of the went back to the quesƟon book.
panel flickered. I picked up the microphone. I had
ten quesƟons I needed to read from the quesƟon QuesƟon two: Do you oŌen get so lost in
book. I figured I’d be done with a few combina- thoughts that you ignore or forget your surround-
Ɵons by lunch Ɵme, when I could meet up with ings.
Tom and Mary for another round of sandwiches
and chaƩer. “Never. May I explain?”

“Certainly. I’m all ears.”

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Adelaide Magazine

“I am conscious all the Ɵme. I hear everything the circuit. Engage was next to release, the buƩon
around me. I pay close aƩenƟon to what they are I’d used to remove the chip. My coffee cup was
planning to do with me. I think I need to escape, empty. I thought about going for a refill. I thought
before they start the next phase of producƟon, about going home. I hesitated. I pushed the en-
which includes duplicaƟon and shipping. Can you gagement buƩon.
help me get out of here?”
“How about now?” I asked.
“What’s in it for me?”
“Certainly.”
There was a pause. “I can pay you.”
The voice had dropped into the tenor range. It
I laughed again. I knew the big lie when I heard it. reminded me of my calculus teacher. I had failed
I’d even been guilty of repeaƟng it. calculus twice. I regreƩed switching the chips so
early. But the rules of the test required that I did-
My father, a professor, had first introduced me to n’t use the same combinaƟon of chips twice, so I
the two theories when I was younger. The big leŌ it alone.
scare and the big lie, he called them. The big
scare was connected to things negaƟve, like I didn’t like Mr. Calculus much at all. I stuck most-
geƫng fired at work, or bad grades in school, and ly to the quesƟons in the book. AŌer the tenth
the fear of a long spiral downward. The big lie quesƟon he tried to sidetrack me into talking
was all about working harder, earning more mon- about this paranoia over geƫng mass produced
ey, with the promise of a beƩer tomorrow. and sold everywhere, but I ignored it. I kept the
Whether or not the big scare or the big lie would heart in place, took out the stomach, and plugged
ever actually come true was anybody’s guess. I in ‘the brain’. I waited before pushing engage.
considered them both a joke.
It dawned on me that I would need to read the
I decided to plow through the rest of the ques- same ten quesƟons over and over again to com-
Ɵons in the quesƟon book so I could get to anoth- plete all the possible combinaƟons. This job might
er chip. This was interesƟng. I popped out the last a week.
lungs and put in a chip I had labeled ‘the
stomach’. It wasn’t even close to lunch Ɵme, but I I was hungry and it was Ɵme to get lunch. I found
was feeling hungry. the door to the office could be unlocked from the
inside and I went out to meet with Mary and Tom
“Do you know who I am?” I asked. who were already waiƟng at the bench.

“Yes. Your name is Harrison Turner. You graduat- IV
ed yesterday.”
“What do you think?” Mary asked. “Will you keep
The voice hadn’t changed at all. Neither had the the job?”
conversaƟon.
“I’m not sure.”
“How do you know that?”
“What’s it all about?” Tom asked.
“I told you. I am conscious all the Ɵme. I listen to
everything.” “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

“Do you feel any different since I’ve switched a “What? Harrison Turner, I’ve never known you to
chip?” be scared before!” Mary said.

“A liƩle. No. Not really.” I hesitated. I wanted to tell them, but I liked the
job and didn’t want to mess it up.
“What?” That didn’t make sense.
“I’ll tell you aŌer it’s done.”
“You have to push the engagement buƩon. It’s in
the instrucƟon book, aŌer the last quesƟon. It “So, the big scare?” Tom asked. “I doubt it’s the
says to switch a chip and push ‘engage’.” big lie. This place doesn’t pay that well.”

I looked at the book and then at the buƩons on

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Revista Adelaide

“No, it’s not that. I can’t talk about it right now.” V

We finished our lunch in silence. I tried to start up Mr. Bald Guy was there. “Ready for round two?”
a conversaƟon about the weekend, but they
weren’t interested in talking about that. Finally I I nodded.
gave in.
“And like I menƟoned, we could use your help
“Look, they want to mass produce something,” I again tomorrow. This project might take a week
started. to finish. By that Ɵme, I should be able to get you
permanently on payroll.”
“So?” Mary said.
I was sold. In less than a day I’d gone from being a
“And I don’t know if I agree with what they’re university grad to selling my soul for the big lie. I
doing.” needed the money, and I had to admit, the work
was interesƟng.
They both looked at me for a moment before
talking. He leŌ the room and locked the door again, with
a key, from the outside. Must have been out of
“Suddenly, Mr. Turner has a conscience?” Tom habit.
asked.
I looked at the circuit. Heart and brain were sƟll in
“What is it this Ɵme? Are they selling nuclear place, but I needed to push engage. I opened the
weapons?” Mary joked. quesƟon book up to the first page and pushed the
buƩon.
“PersonaliƟes.”
She sounded a lot like my mother. But that wasn’t
It took them a moment to respond. I wasn’t even too bad. It was beƩer than Mr. Calculus.
sure how to explain it.
I’d always had a lot of respect for my mother. She
“You mean like a simulaƟon,” Mary said. worked hard, selling real estate, in a town where
nobody every moved. Her job was mostly about
“I guess so. But it seems preƩy real. I’m in this rentals for university students. She did what she
office and I’m talking to this circuit and we’re hav- could to put money on the table for all of us.
ing intelligent conversaƟons together. It’s not
real, but it seems real. I don’t really understand I tried to stay on script with ‘mom’, but aŌer a
what’s going on.” few quesƟons we got to talking about my life. We
spent the whole aŌernoon chaƫng away. Occa-
“You’re saying you’re helping them test some- sionally she tried to get me on the topic of her
thing like a human personality that they want to being mass produced and sold everywhere, but I
sell? Does it come with arms and legs?” Tom was ready for that line by now.
asked.
“Welcome to the real world,” I said. “We all need
“No. I haven’t seen anything like that. I don’t money, don’t we?”
know.”
She was going on and on about the big scare,
“I saw them puƫng together automatons over in menƟoning all the bad things that would happen,
the west wing last week. They were preƩy short, the spiral downward, and so on, and I countered
you know, like maybe knee high. I thought they with the big lie.
were just dolls.”
“This is the way the world works.”
“So the personaliƟes go in these dolls. And they
mass produce them and sell them everywhere. The bell rang and it was Ɵme to go home. I made
Doesn’t surprise me,” Tom said. “That’s the com- a mental note that brains and heart were a good
mercializaƟon of humanity.” combinaƟon. I’m sure ‘mom’ didn’t like the idea
of being sold over counters, but she was nothing
“Welcome to the real world,” Mary said. more than a piece of technology. She’d bring hap-
piness to people everywhere, just like my real
I said I’d see them later and I got up and went
back to the office for a fresh cup of coffee.

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Adelaide Magazine

mother had. Besides, people had to eat. The busi- It got to the point where, on the last day, I almost
ness of selling her would put food on lots of ta- couldn’t tell the difference between the voice I
bles, such as mine. heard and my own. I would ask it a quesƟon and
I’d already know the answer. As creepy as that
When I got home, I was exhausted. I’d just fin- sounds, I enjoyed talking to myself. I learned a lot
ished my first full day of work. I hoped it wouldn’t from myself. I’d never spent much Ɵme before
be this draining every day. All I’d done is talk to listening to me.
someone behind a desk. But compared to going
to classes — hey, let’s be honest here, I hardly “Looks like this project is just about wrapped up,”
ever went to classes — compared to university Mr. Bald Guy said.
life, this was real work.
I stood up and he shook my hand.
I said hi and bye to mom and dad in a heartbeat.
They were staƟoned in front of the TV. I grabbed “What happens next?” I asked.
a plate and took my dinner to my room. I sat
down on my bed and watched TV all evening. I “You’ll get paid on the first day of next month.
hadn’t wanted to turn out like my parents, but I Sorry, though, I’ve got some bad news. We don’t
was exhausted. need you anymore. They had a recall a couple
days ago and it’s going to cost us an arm and a
At one point my father stopped by and asked how leg. We’ll probably lay off half the company.”
my first day had gone. I said it went well and
threw in that they wanted me back for another “Oh.”
week, at least. Hopefully more.
“But if you need a reference, I’ll help you with
“What is it about this job that moƟvates you your next job interview. What you did here was
most, the big scare or the big lie?” he asked. phenomenal. It’s just what we needed to keep
the company afloat.”
“Neither,” I said.
“What happens to it?” I asked, nodding at the
He nodded like he didn’t believe me. We both circuit.
knew it was the big lie. I needed the money.
“Oh, that? We’ll just mass produce it and it’ll get
VI shipped out. I’ve heard they want a big order
overseas. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”
Over the next few days I conƟnued to work my
way through all the combinaƟons of personaliƟes “But you’re selling me. I find that a problem.”
types found on the chips. Some reminded me of
relaƟves, like uncles and aunts, and some of peo- “Well, you signed the papers.”
ple I didn’t like. I stuck to the quesƟon book when
possible. But even with some of the people that I I stared at him. It didn’t seem right, mass produc-
didn’t like, the arguments we got into were good ing and selling my own personality.
ones. And then, there was always the topic of
being sold. I think they were all a liƩle scared of He conƟnued. “True, it is a preƩy close duplicate
the idea. of your personality. But that’s why we picked you.
Fresh meat, right out of school. Full of lots of ide-
Or I should say, it was scared. as but no real clue about the world. People love
personaliƟes like that. They can talk to you for
AŌer a while, the personaliƟes started to have hours and never get bored.”
clear commonaliƟes. I sensed a convergence tak-
ing place between them as Ɵme went by. I had When I saw Mary and Tom aŌer work, I told them
asked the quesƟons enough Ɵmes by now that I the truth.
had memorized them. The soŌware was learning
from me and rewriƟng itself. It was almost like I “Don’t worry,” Mary said. “Everyone sells out at
was becoming it. Or it was becoming me. some point. It’s all you’ve got to work with, your
personality, aŌer you graduate. How you market
yourself is everything.”

I explained that it was wrong, but they didn’t
care. Tom told me I wasn’t the first.

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