An Unexpected Visitor

“There will be sleeping enough in the grave.”

- Benjamin Franklin

It's been 6 months since Marty died.

Since we were toddlers playing in the sandbox, they called us "attached at the hip", or rather "attached at the head" because we would come up with all kinds of creative trouble together. To name a favorite, chasing: we chased everything from garbage trucks to dogs and later, girls. Growing up, we were often mistaken for blood brothers with our identical dark hair, and it wasn't so far off from the mark. I've never been as close to someone as I have been to Marty. Not even to my parents or to my real brother. When someone who's always been a part of your life is suddenly not there anymore, something inside you gets damaged irreparably, like a gear that stops turning and can't ever function the same way again.

It's a chilly first day of December and I'm on my way home, my mind swamped with depressing thoughts. I'm alone, but that's mostly my own fault. Every day I've holed myself up in my room, ignoring phone calls and refusing parties until even my most persistent friends ceased trying to coax me out.  These days I prefer the solitude to social outings that I know I can't enjoy. Usually, I put off work and just sleep because when you sleep you don't think and when you don't think you don't feel depressed.

I hear someone call my name from behind and turn around in surprise. I haven't talked to anyone in a long while. It's Miranda, a girl in one of my classes. She’s a nice girl, I guess, a pretty girl.

“Hey,” she says, cheeks flushed pink from the cold, or from something else. “Uh, I was just wondering, I know of this really good pizzeria that just opened in the next town, so… if you’re free tonight…?”

I realize what she’s implying, but can’t even bring myself to feel flattered or excited – just dully dismayed. Why today, of all days? Something in the back of my mind urges that it’s a fine idea, that Miranda’s a good person and I should just get out and do something already; but I keep thinking what a horrible friend I would be to have dinner with a girl on the half-year anniversary of Marty’s death while he lies cold and alone in his grave.

“I, um, maybe not today,” I say with genuine regret. “I’ve got a bunch of papers to get done tonight and I have work tomorrow morning… sorry…”

“Oh… that’s alright.”

I can't even meet her eyes for fear of the disappointment I'll see in them, so I look ruefully down at my sneakers, heels fidgeting in the dirt.

“Well, if you change your mind, just call me before dinner, okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, though I know I’m not going to. I shove my hands into my pockets and head dejectedly for the direction of my house.

                                                            ***

An hour later I’m sitting at my desk, paperwork still untouched. I’ve been wondering if I should do something to commemorate Marty, but the thought of it just plunges me even deeper into melancholy. It doesn’t help at all that I remember today happens to be Friday – Marty and I always used to go out for a drink on Fridays, like a ritual.

            Finally, I get up and pull a can of beer out from the fridge. It feels lame, but I take a swig anyways and let the alcohol cushion my depressed spirits. This is what I would have been doing with Marty anyways, if he were still here. My tongue begins to loosen, but it doesn’t matter because there’s no one to hear anything I say. I rage angrily at the world for a while, for being cold and unfair, and maybe even shed a tear or two, though I don’t really remember. Eventually, I embrace the sleepiness that always brings relief and escape.

“Wish you were here,” I mutter to the air before my head hits the table and I pass into soothing oblivion.  

                                                            ***

A searing headache is what rouses me later. For some reason, my alcohol-induced nap feels much shorter than I’d hoped. I sigh tiredly. I'm not ready to face life again. I force myself to throw out the beer can and get started on my paperwork. I splash some cold water on my face to drive away the hangover, toweling my wet cheeks as I walk out of the bathroom – and nearly pass out again from shock. There’s a person in my room, leaning against the wall, as if he’s been waiting there for me for the whole time; and when I catch sight of that person’s face, I think I must have actually blacked out for two seconds.

“Oh my God! Marty?!” I nearly scream, because the lanky boy in my room is unmistakably my best friend Marty – who also happens to be dead. I can only wonder if I’m still drunk, or if I’m dreaming, or if I’ve finally, truly, lost it. I sit down unsteadily on the floor because it’s all too much for my pounding head to handle.

“In the flesh! Well, not quite,” says Marty with a wide grin. I gape at him in disbelief. The absurd thing is, he’s smiling and cracking jokes, just like he did before, and he looks very real and very much… alive.

“How? is this a dream?” I stutter. “A-are you a ghost?”

Marty just laughs and gives me the don't-ask-me eyebrows. “Does it matter? I’m here, aren’t I?” he says.

            And I realize that as weird as the whole situation is, it really doesn’t matter, because seeing him whole, lively, in front of me, overwhelms me with just how much I’ve missed him. He's wearing his favorite jeans and sweater combo, his black bangs sticking out from under the hood. It's as if nothing had changed since I'd last seen him alive. I have a sudden strong impulse to pull him into a hug, but a part of me is afraid that he’s actually not here at all, and that my arms will go right through him and he’ll disappear like the hallucination he can only be.

"Well don't just sit there, Tom," Marty says, reading my uncertain expression. He reaches for my hand to help me up and when I hesitantly grab it, his grip is firm and solid. "You look like you could use a little pick-me-up. Come on, let's go get some coffee."

I never imagined walking next to my deceased friend again, but for some inexplicable reason, it’s happening. It’s early winter and I’m freezing in my jacket, but Marty strolls along beside me seemingly comfortable in just his light hoodie. Even his breath doesn’t frost in the below-freezing air. In fact, he doesn’t seem to be breathing at all; but that hardly surprises me as much as it should, since this whole situation itself is already beyond logic.

Marty orders two hot caramel latte’s for us – our usual –  and we take a seat by the window. A million things I want to say throw themselves around in my mind, but I have trouble picking the right one to begin with.

“I…I’ve missed you, man,” I start, speaking carefully around the sudden catch in my throat.

Marty looks at me with a sad smile. “Me too. I’m sorry I just left you so suddenly like that.”

“No… I’m sorry, about what happened to you. It shouldn't have been that way.”

“Couldn’t have been helped, I guess," Marty shrugs, taking a sip from his steaming coffee. "It’s not so bad.”

“So… how are you? How’s, you know, wherever you are now?”

Marty chuckles in amusement. “Pretty boring, actually. Not so much to do. And what about you? Getting along alright without me?”

I don’t respond right away, because I know that frankly I haven’t been alright at all. Marty seems to know this already because he suddenly turns serious.

"Look, I have something to tell you." he looks me straight in the eye, all the lightness gone from his tone. “It’s too late for me, but it’s not too late for you, Tom,” Marty says. “You’ve still got a life to live. You’re wasting it if you just lock yourself in your room and sleep all the time. Now you know how short life can be, so all the more reason to take advantage of it while you can. Go out and have fun, hang with friends, live again. Do the things I never got to do. It’ll make things much better, believe me.”

I look up at him sheepishly. "I guess you're right. I've been pretty pathetic lately, haven't I?"
"A bit," Marty teases, but his eyes are sympathetic. "It's my fault for putting you through all this. I just want you to be your happy old self again, instead of doing nothing. Trust me, you do plenty of that when you're dead." He rolls his eyes. "Promise me you'll take more than ten steps out of your room from now on, okay?"
"Promise," I laugh, and Marty seems to believe me because he has on a satisfied expression.
 “And besides," he says, wiggling his eyebrows knowingly. "I do believe you have a dinner appointment tonight that I’m keeping you from right now. You should get going before it gets any later.”

Marty and I walk out of the coffee shop together, arms slung around each others shoulders like the old times. It’s as if something dark and heavy has been lifted off of me and I can finally breathe easily again. Little-by-little, the broken gear inside of me creaks back into motion. We wait side-by-side at the crosswalk just as the first delicate snowflakes begin to settle in our hair and on our noses.

The light soon switches to the walk sign. I walk across the white paint, and Marty is not beside me anymore. I'm not worried because I know that this is how it's supposed to be. When I get to the other side I look back, and Marty is waving to me from the other side of the road. I wave back. A bus drives by between us, a blur of grey, and when it passes, Marty is gone.

                                                            ***

I can’t recall exactly how it happens, but somehow the image of the road fragments and dissolves into nothing like a fading vision. When I blink away the blackness I’m back again in my room, everything as it had been before: my cheek is pressed against the still-unfinished papers on my desk, the empty beer can lying exactly where I’d left it when I’d fallen asleep. I glance over at the clock. It’s 5:05; I still have time. Smiling to myself, I grab my cell phone and punch in a number as I shrug on a decent shirt and quickly comb through my hair. She picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Miranda,” I say brightly. “So, uh, about that dinner date… I changed my mind.”

No Pain, No Gain

“There are no gains, without pains,

then help hands, for I have no lands,

or if i have, they are smartly taxed.”

- Benjamin Franklin

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” said Max. “I just can’t seem to do anything right nowadays.” Eight-year-old Max was sitting on the steps of his family’s tiny little brick cottage house as he vented to his friend Liam. He had been struggling with grades in school and it had been a long time since he had gotten any sort of encouragement or praise. Growing up with a single mother, Max was often left feeling hopeless and discouraged without having a father around to support him. “It’s not even just my grades! I feel worthless. Everyone on my baseball team can throw 60 mph, and then there’s me, who can barely even throw a ball at 50 mph.”

After silently sitting on his basketball for quite some time, Liam finally spoke up. “Max, don’t you see how many other talents you have? Don’t you realize that these things are not all that matter in life? I mean, you are by far the most considerate person I know. Just yesterday after baseball, I saw you helping Coach B put away all the balls. When everyone had gone back to the locker rooms, you stayed at the fields and gave some of your time to help him out. And you didn’t even do it for recognition.”

When Liam had finished speaking, Max slowly lifted his head and looked Liam right in the eye. “But thats not even a talent,” said Max. “The thing is, I never succeed in anything I try.” Liam looked at Max with a worried expression as he glanced up from the basketball under his feet.

“Man, you just have to do your best and know that your best is good enough. If you want to improve, just work as hard as you can and strive to become better. Until then, I just hope that you realize your true worth. Don’t base it off of your grades or baseball skills. Open your eyes. You may see some things about yourself that went unnoticed before.”

A few months had passed, and Max had taken to heart all the things that Liam had said to him. He had heard from one of his classmates that there was a baseball clinic that was being hosted at his school and decided to give it a try and sign up. However, he was nervous and didn’t know what to expect. As the clinic drew near, Max started doing drills that prepared him for the clinic, making him a stronger, faster, and more agile player. He found little ways to sneak in his workouts into his tight schedule as he now also had tutoring after school. As each day passed, Max found himself not only feeling better than ever, but also feeling healthy and refreshed. He finally felt like he had been able to take control of his life and even as he faced balancing academics and baseball.

The day of the clinic came, and the next thing Max knew, he was at home plate hitting doubles and triples like they were a piece of cake. Coach B stood up and walked over to Max. “Wow son, seeing you play today was like seeing a totally new player step up today and show off all his skills. You’ve certainly been working hard! I think it’s time for you to join a tournament team.”

“Do you mean that?” asked Max excitedly. Coach B looked down at Max with a warm proud smile. “I sure do. It isn’t every day that you find a player like you that not only has the skills and the brains for baseball, but also has the character and heart of a true player.”

It had been a few months since the clinic, and Max had joined the tournament team that Coach B had recommended to him. He was constantly hitting triples all the time and his RBI count was higher than ever. All the boys on his team would praise him almost every game for bringing in the winning point.  They were not only his team, but his second family. He had finally felt like he was a part of something. Never before had he felt so accomplished after playing baseball.

As he walked home from tournament practice, Max thought back to the time when he had struggled with everything he seemed to do. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he looked back at his old self. Not once did he look back and regret the hundreds of crunches that he did everyday, the tedious pull-ups, the tiring push-ups, or the strenuous baseball drills that he pushed himself to finish. Max found value in his hard work and was proud of his motivation throughout his training.

Liam came running up to Max as he dribbled his basketball. “Hey Max, I heard that you are doing well on your new tournament team! What’d I tell ya Max? Hard work pays off. After all, no pain, no gain!”

And with that, Max couldn’t help but let a big warm smile inch its way across his face.

The Velvet

Brian White

F-Block

Mr. Moran

Silks and satins, scarlet and velvets put out the kitchen fire.

Preface:  Snow fell on the cold, hard ground.  The cries of revolutionaries could be heard in the distance.  A hackney carriage sped through the night along the forest road, pursued by loud whoops and hollers.  Two men jumped out of the darkness with torches and knives.  The horse was cut loose, and, overwhelmed, galloped away.  Female cries of “Deus misereatur!”* issued from the interior of the overturned wagon.  A man clambered out through the roof, brandishing a sword. 

“Dmitri, he is dead!” exclaimed one of the robbers, following the fight.  “Yes, Klepto, he is dead,” Dmitri replied.  “But his mother and the babe got away.”  Klepto did not appear concerned by this fact, and with greed in his burning blue eyes, proceeded to strip the Eastern royal of his fineries.  Within the carriage, Dmitri found a white velvet embroidered in gold, which would make a good sum in the marketplace.

* *  *   *   *  * *

It couldn’t be helped.

Ouranos had already asked Neptune her hand, and there would no doubt be a glorious wedding.  Neptune’s mother was in a fit of excitement, whisking the bride-to-be and her sister from pastry-shops to fittings and various other appointments.  There couldn’t have been a better time to tie the knot.  Neptune was a sliced apple the most opulent before browning.  Her skin was the color of a pale rose, her eyes bore the coruscation of a gemstone, and her hair swam and bubbled like a kelp forest. Her beauty made no hint to her humble beginnings, much less to a man for whom she had been destined at birth.

All the while, Ouranos had been planning a feast, and finally decided to regale extravagantly at the summer mansion.  The chef was given an interminable list of dishes to prepare, and an ample sum for the exotic ingredients.  Alina, as she was called, had come to live by the sea a long time ago. She had tended the kitchen fire for decades, knocking at the family door when Ouranos’ mother had been suckling her child. Alina was no doubt accustomed to the prodigal propensities of the household, and went, disapproving nonetheless, on her way.

At a small boutique across the river, the women found the crowning robe.  White as milk, the cloth was as striking as it was supple.  Golden threads weaved a living tapestry into the crushed velvet bodice.  The brocade curiously and most intricately depicted the fall of man.  Stitched into the left hip, Adam and his wife fled from the angel with the flaming sword situated under the right breast.  When Neptune touched their leafy garments, she was surely mistaken to have felt a waxy surface beneath her fingers.  The human likeness was as incredible.  Adam’s skin held the smooth satin of true flesh, with Eve’s tangled locks imitated in silk threads.  Neptune’s mother was partial to the bone tiers of silk gauze cascading to the floor. When Neptune put it on, the gown seemed to increase her natural beauty without bound.  She thanked her mother for the dress, and hurried home.

Riennade had every reason to be happy for her sister.  And for every one, she was as justifiably so enraged.  She, being the younger daughter of a wanting family, was left with the crumbs of Neptune’s burgeoning prosperity.  At birth, she had been blessed with good fortune, a betrothal to the Eastern Potentate.  Neptune later secured a bond to the mere fishnetter’s son Helbrun.  That all changed when Ouranos, the charming youth from the South presented Neptune with unimaginable riches and asked for her hand.  To stay true to Helbrun’s father, Riennade’s family had promised her to him, and all her dreams had drowned. 

Ouranos was waiting for Neptune when she arrived.  He laughed to see her struggling with the package she was holding, and sweeped it out of her grasp before she crashed into him.  “It’s perfect Rani,” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed. 

After seeing Neptune rush off with the parceled dress in her arms, Riennade ambled over the bridge, past the palace, through the cobbled streets until she reached a dirt path.  Here she turned her head back to the crowded streets, before continuing on her way.  As she neared a small hut on the cliffs, a young man came out to greet her.  His long dark hair was damp, as always, from the sea spray.  He came to her, and clasped her hand.  Riennade resisted the temptation to plug her nose from his fish smell.  “It is done?” he asked.  “Yes,” she replied, her snake eyes narrowing to slits.  “Why must you smell so disgusting?” she hissed.  “You will not set foot in the mansion if you stink like that.”

Neptune came out into the courtyard, glowing like an angel.  She scanned the stone garden, glancing past the marble statues of swans gushing water into a fountain.  Ouranos beckoned to her, beaming, from the boughs of a cherry tree.  “The last time my stomach dropped so was when I jumped from this branch,” he jumped from the tree, “into my grandmother’s arms.”  His scarlet lips were frozen in a glorious smile.  He took her and they kissed under pink clouds.

Riennade’s mother owed the Fishnetter a great debt.  Her husband, betrayed by his best friend, had been mortally wounded for his money earned off a velvet tunic.  It was Helbrun’s father who had nursed her husband until his death. Thus she held no pity for Riennade, only grim fulfillment.  She had found the cook in town, and together they finished her errands.  When they returned, Riennade had already removed the fish stench from her body, rubbing her wrists vigorously with rose water.  Seeing the cook, she snatched her into a dark corner.  “I have found the coffer,” she breathed.  “We set fire at midnight. By dawn, all is lost.”  The cook’s eyes blazed in the shadow.  “Deus misereatur.  I will do anything for my son.”

It was a glorious wedding, until the fire, at least.  Ouranos had received a rock crystal vase as a gift, which he proudly placed in the foyer on top of the marble staircase.  Wishing to relieve herself, Neptune had rustled her way into the large washroom down the hall, hardly noticing the fold in the rug, concealing a trap door where inside the empty casket lay, the lock broken.  She was met by a powerful brightness, which she strove to put out by beating it with her velvet bodice, which she had ripped from her back.  She could have saved herself at an earlier time, but was lost to smoke inhalation.  Her lifeless body was left untouched by the flames, which formed a strange halo around her without touching her dress.

Ouranos smashed the crystal against the glass.  The windowpane shattered, spitting shards of glass that stung his face and neck.  With the flames licking at his heels, he hoisted himself up on the sill, and slid down onto the stone ledge.  There he stood, balanced 170 feet above ground, his skin speckled with tiny cuts.  He gripped the wall with raw hands.  It grew slippery with blood, and he feared of falling.  Below him lay a flat stretch of stone ground, the courtyard with the bubbling swan fountain.  Here he had said his vows to Neptune.  Here he had seen his grandmother smile up at him, her arms outstretched so as to catch him when he fell from his perch in the cherry tree.  Here he had lied in the hypnotic blaze of the summertime.  Here, not there, for he had fallen, and here he lay now, staring up at the gray smoke billowing from his burning house.

Only ashes remained in the morning.  The building had remained mysteriously intact around Nepune’s lifeless, bare-breasted form.  The velvet bodice was nowhere to be found.  At noontime, Klepto’s son lay still, his dead eyes gasping beryl into the heart of the sun.

*”Lord have mercy” in Latin.

Sarah Zhang

F-Block

Moran English

Always Work Hard

“at the working man’s house hunger looks in, but dares not enter.”

         The shrill beep of the alarm clock heralded the serene blue light of dawn. Melissa Cooper slowly drew her limbs out into the cold wintry air as she forced her heavy eyelids to open. Blindly, she groped for the off button of the clock, knocking a glass of water off her nightstand in the process.

         Sighing, she hurriedly threw on a worn but respectable skirt as well as a thick, gray sweater. Crossing to the spill, she bent over with some towels to clean up the mess but winced as her neck and back twinged suddenly. Melissa rubbed the sore spots absentmindedly as she wiped up the water and tossed the wet towels into the trash.

She quickly glided over to the small bathroom, pausing to comb her hair and brush her teeth before she left. With the same air of calm urgency, she crossed into her daughters’ room.

Both were soundly asleep as it was four in the morning. Melissa quietly drew the rumpled covers back over their bare arms and legs before giving them both a quick kiss on the forehead.

She checked her watch. 4:15. Running now, she stopped in the kitchen to grab an apple. Melissa paused and opened the refrigerator, letting out a blast of frosty air as she peeked into the illuminated interior. It was nearly empty with just a slab of cheese on the top shelf and half a carton of milk. She bit her lip in frustration; she would have to go grocery-shopping on top of having to pay the electric bills.

She checked her watch one more time. 4:20, the silver numbers gleamed. Melissa ran out, locking the door behind her before starting her battered blue Ford. Its engine growled loudly, breaking the peaceful silence that had covered the neighborhood. Melissa rubbed her burning eyes before backing out of the driveway and driving to her workplace.

“Hi, good morning Jeff.”

“Nice to see you Melissa. I see that you’re early as usual. Remember to finish the project today, we need to get it in by 12 AM tonight.”

“On it.” Melissa’s heels clicked softly against the rough gray rug of the office. The rich aromas of coffee and cream made her belly pinch with hunger as a few tired workers attempted to caffeinate themselves. Sweeping her dark hair off her shoulders, Melissa settled down into the swivel chair situated in front of a dark computer screen. She turned it on.

The screen glowed a light blue as it loaded. Melissa shut her eyes for a few moments, trying to snatch a few more precious minutes of rest before the endless line of numbers would dance across the computer screen. Melissa thought of the breakfasts that other people would be having; toast covered with  warm golden butter, fresh yogurt, colorful cereals...Stop! Don’t think about food!

She looked at the pictures of her two daughters Eileen and Elaine taped to the gray cubicle walls. Their jack ‘o’ lantern smiles lit up their thin, bony faces as they looked at something to the right of the camera. Though they smiled, Melissa could see the constant strain of hunger etched in their pale skin as well as the in thinness of their bodies. I'll work as hard as I can to keep them from starving!

Melissa looked back at the computer screen and saw the familiar green background with various documents scattered across it. Hunching her shoulders, she opened one of the documents and immediately, her eyes felt seared by the stark white page of the document as well as the tiny black numbers and lines that covered it. I’m doing this for my children! Melissa thought fiercely. Melissa began to type numbers into the document, her tired fingers slowly dancing over the sticky keys of the keyboard.

All around her, she could hear the clicks of other people typing as they all began their various duties.

Melissa blinked and came out of her trance as she heard the thumps of chairs being pushed back and the tired calls of farewell.

“Bye Melissa. Aren’t you going home yet?”

“ No Jenny, I have to put in some overtime hours.”

“Don’t stay too late and say hi to the girls for me.”

All of her coworkers had disappeared so that the office was disconcertingly quiet and dark. Melissa picked up her work phone and dialed home.

“Hi, is this Elaine? Oh Eileen? Yeah, I’m going to be late tonight, just finish off the food in the fridge. Don’t wait for me. Yeah, I love you too honey. Bye!”

She checked the tiny numbers at the bottom right corner of her screen. 9 ‘o’ clock. She still needed to work four more hours. Melissa fell into a hypnotic work stupor once more as she calculated the endless rows of numbers before her.

By one AM, Melissa’s eyes refused to stay open and her stomach was growling with hunger as she hadn’t had lunch or dinner. She hated taking time off for eating and she disliked spending money on the cup of Ramen noodles she would have eaten for lunch. Yawning, she closed her computer and stretched her swollen fingers and aching neck.

She almost dozed off while driving, the blurry streak of her headlights nearly soothing her to sleep. Melissa arrived back at her home, then quietly entered the dark house.

Suddenly, she remembered, she hadn’t remembered to go grocery shopping. Pulling out her checkbook, Melissa anxiously checked the numbers as well as mentally calculating the cost of her mortgage and electric and heating bills.

There wouldn’t be enough left over to buy a week’s worth of food.

She was too tired, she couldn’t do this. Stumbling to her room, she collapsed on the bed without undressing. Thankfully, it was Saturday so that she wouldn’t need to get up as early.

The pattering of feet in the hallway woke her and Melissa saw Elaine and Eileen staring at her eagerly.

“Mom, is there any more food? We’re hungry!” they chorused at the same time. It was one of their well-rehearsed lines as they said every night and every morning.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t get anything last night. I’ll drop you off at Anne’s house, her mom will give you some food. Go get dressed.”

With light steps, the two girls went into their room. Melissa got up and dressed as well. Walking into the girls’ tiny room, she quickly ran a brush through their dull brown hair, the strands limp with malnutrition.

Anne’s house was a cheerful yellow and from it floated the most wonderful scent of pancake batter. As she had countless times, Melissa thanked her lucky stars she had met Anne’s mom, the angel who was always willing to feed Elaine and Eileen.

“Elaine, Eileen, call me when you’re done, OK? I’ll come and pick you up. Don’t bother Anne’s mom and be polite and helpful if she needs you.”

“Yes Mom.”

Melissa smiled fondly at them and then she drove off back home. Sighing, she took out all the paperwork about bills and other nonsense from a folder.

As Melissa brought the piles of paper to the kitchen table, the phone rang shrilly. Frowning, Melissa set down the papers and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Melissa?

“Oh hi Jeff, I did turn in the project on time.”

“Yes I know, I want you to know that I’m going to promote you since your hard work has been so excellent.”

Melissa was silent for a moment as she processed the information.

“Wait, you want to promote me?” she nearly whispered

“Yes, I do.” Jeff’s voice crackled on the phone.

“Thank you, thank you!” Melissa barely heard Jeff respond before hanging up. Melissa stared at her bills again, then at the refridgerator. She could imagine the frozen interior heavy with eatables for the first time.

Smiling ecstatically, Melissa picked up the phone and dialed the number for Anne’s house.

Achieving the impossible is possible

Achieving the impossible is possible

Prosperity is traditionally defined as a successful, flourishing, or thriving condition, especially in financial respects. However, prosperity does not only fall within these traditional boundaries. One can be prosperous in many ways. For instance at Lexington High School, one can be defined as prosperous if one is able to achieve a constant state of happiness while not conforming to society's ideals. Benjamin Franklin’s The Way to Wealth provides key advise for achieving the state of mind needed to prosper at LHS. His proverbial wisdom clearly states the steps that are needed in order achieve a constant state of happiness, thus being defined as prosperous. These steps are broken down into three categories. First, spend your time doing what you want and enjoy, not what you think will look good on your resume. Second, develop healthy habits that will help with your mood. Lastly, do not conform to society's ideals. Be the person that you want to be. Following Franklin’s advice will propel you to the highest level of prosperity at LHS.

            Time is impalpable and can never be recovered once it is lost. Using your time wisely is very important in reaching prosperity at LHS. Franklin harps on the importance of time; he states that “dost thou love life, then do not squander time, for that is the stuff that life is made of”. Many LHS students are guilty of depleting their time. This happens because many students are not doing what they enjoy. Students over time have become too concerned with padding their resumes for college. This means that many students are wasting colossal amounts of time doing activities that they do not like because they believe these activities will get them one step ahead. In turn, these students become miserable. The few students that follow Franklin’s advice of loving life by using their time wisely will be the happiest. Participating in activities because you like them and not because you think that it will look good on a college resume is the most successful use of your time.

The competitive nature of LHS has overshadowed the importance of time. Franklin’s wisdom “lost time is never found again” will be a wake up call to almost all of the students. Many of the students that are constantly running from one activity to the next think that they are prospering. These students are mistaken. Most need to take a step back and reevaluate if they are happy constantly abusing time that can never be recovered. The answer for most will be no. This means that many of the so called high achieving students are not flourishing. On the contrary the students that do not squander time by following Franklin’s advice are prosperous. They are happy because they are spending their time the way that they want to, thus enjoying life and reducing stress.

            Happiness is easily ruined by the constant stress of work and responsibilities. At LHS the stress can sometimes make it impossible to prosper. Some students posses very unhealthy habits that if fixed can easily reduce stress. Franklin gives excellent advice on reducing stress by developing healthy habits. He states “early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise”. The lack of sleep that roams the halls at LHS is astounding. Not having a long enough rest period can severely hurt someone’s well-being. Also, it brings many more challenges throughout the day. Without the proper amount of sleep, brains have a hard time functioning. This will make it very hard to perform at one’s highest potential, resulting in poor grades. If students took into consideration the amount of sleep that is necessary for one’s health and happiness as Franklin did, then a lot more people would prosper. Instead most do not take Franklin’s advice and endure the horrible cycle of stress that is caused by lack of sleep.

            Another stressor for most LHS students is the lack of leisure time. It has been instilled in the students that in order to succeed one must always be working. This lesson, however, is wrong. A prolonged period without leisure time results in unhappiness. However Franklin, again, has the perfect anecdote:  “a life of leisure and a life of laziness are two things”. According to Franklin, taking a break and having time to distress is not the same as being lazy. Laziness comes when you have something that you have to do but you do not put in the effort. Leisure is a privilege that you earn through completing your tasks with hard work. The people who prosper at LHS are the ones that know when enough is enough and they make a habit of taking time for themselves. Following the few guidelines made by Franklin will result in a healthier and happier life.

            High school is a time in  life that you can begin to discover the kind of person you want to be. However most people at LHS crumble under the social pressures and conform to society's ideals of the perfect high school student. They become the person that they know will be accepted, not necessarily the person they truly are. This struggle of identity will destroy one’s happiness at LHS. Franklin warns against this, he states “trusting too much to others’ care is the ruin of many”. In order to prosper you cannot get sucked into trusting societies perception of what you should be. Examples include: the way that you should dress; how you should behave; and the friends that you should have. Once you conform, you will constantly be trying to keep up with the trends set by society. In order to accomplish this you must buy many things that are expensive, ultimately leaving you in debt and unhappy. Franklin has an easy fix: “‘tis easier to suppress the first desire than to satisfy all that follow it”. If you are a strong enough student to suppress the desire to conform in the first place, than you will not be so unhappy. It is easy to be happy, all that one must do is be true to oneself. That is the only way that you will prosper. The students at LHS who do not follow Franklin's wisdom on conformity will be in a constant battle with themselves. They will be unhappy and never reach the level of prosperity that they wish to achieve during their high school career.  

            Every student has the potential to be prosperous at LHS. All that one must do is follow Franklin’s words of wisdom. His proverbial phrases will give the guidance necessary to reach a constant state of happiness. As hard as it might seem to achieve this goal, especially at such a highly competitive and stressful place, everyone can do it if one chooses. Take what Franklin has said and begin to apply it to your life where it may fit. Start to cherish your time instead of wasting it on activities that are not enjoyable. Begin to develop healthier habits that will lead to a healthier life. Do not become a person based off of society’s rules. Let yourself develop naturally. The final piece of Franklin’s wisdom is “Get what you can, and what you get hold; ‘Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold”. In other words, you can only do the best you can and let the rest fall into place. 

Inevitable Endings Make Sadder Endings

Alison Cameron
Honours American literature
11/19/12

Inevitable Endings Make Sadder Endings

“Dost thou love life, then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of”-Benjamin Franklin

While grumbling, Jana awakened from her deep sleep on a hazy Sunday morning. She grabbed her cracked iPhone: one new email from Abercrombie about a twenty percent off sale and a text message about the math homework due the next day. 11:10, flashed the iPhone’s screen. It was already 11:10, and Jana could barely open her eyes.“Well at least I didn’t sleep in until two like I usually do,” she thought as she groaned into her pillow. She got out of bed, slid into her tattered bunny slippers, and cranked up the Killers’ old CD. Changing into an old sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants, she made her way downstairs to pour herself some dry cereal before the morning was over.

Her mother, Jill, sat down beside her disgruntled, distracted daughter and gave her a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Jana looked at the mug, and ignored it to continue playing “Words with Friends”. Jill cleared her throat and looked up at Jana, her vibrant, precious, and only daughter. While her hair was matted and her eyes were droopy, Jana was still a vision of beauty to Jill’s mind. Jill cleared her throat again and asked softly

“How did you sleep? You are up earlier than usual”
Jana hardly turned away from her iPhone. “Yeah I guess, I don’t know why though.”
Jill calmly tapped her fingers on the table and chewed her lip. “Do you have any homework to do today? I can help you with physics if you want.”
“No I don’t need your help.”
Jill stopped tapping her fingers and put her hands softly in her lap. “Well, I know you find the class difficult, and I just wanted to make sure...”

Jana finally looked up from her iPhone, glaring straight into her mother’s eyes, “No mom I’m fine. I’ll get it done by myself”. She finished her Cheerios, chucked the bowl into the dishwasher, and headed out of the kitchen.Jill staggered after her, and eventually lost her balance and had to clutch onto the wall.

“Jana, wait! Why don’t we go to the mall together, just like old times? We could get some new clothes for you, and grab a bite to eat at that sandwich shop we both like. You can do your physics homework later, we’ve got the whole day ahead of us.”

Her gaunt, sunken eyes pleaded for Jana’s response. Her bony fingers clenched the wall for dear life, for her emaciated body could no longer carry its own weight. Jill’s chest heaved for just a quick breath of air, and her mouth trembled a little.

Jana raised an eyebrow, but did not  notice how much strength it took for her mother to stay standing. “No thanks, I went to the mall last week with Cassie and I don’t really need anymore clothes. Really, it’s fine. You don’t look too well this morning, I don’t want to tire you out.” With that, she unplugged her computer and logged onto Facebook and turned on last night’s episode of “Saturday Night Live”.

Jill faltered over to the couch and sat down next to Jana. She breathed uneasily and stared at the white, low ceiling.  Letting her eyes fall gently shut, she started to quietly hum to herself. Jana looked over at her sickly mother, her skin full of veins, the greying blonde hair, and her chapped lips. “Is she now going crazy as well?” , Jana thought, “Trying to take me to the mall, pfft, she’s in no state to do that. Why can’t she just leave me alone? Why must she try to guilt me into doing things she knows that she can’t do anymore?” She continued social networking and suddenly her mother turned her head towards her and said “You have to face it Jana, we don’t have much time left together.”

Jana twitched uncomfortably, then remained still for quite some time. Her countenance was as blank as paper, her verdant eyes were the only things left with colour on her small face. The last thing she wanted to talk about was the fact that her mother was dying in front of her, and there wasn’t anything in the world that could help her. She stared at her computer screen, ignoring her mother completely. Jana couldn’t bear to look at her mother’s aged, hollow face any longer. “I have to go shower”, she mumbled, “I’ll be back”.

She ran up the stairs and turned the shower on and shut the curtains. Why did her mother have to mention her looming fate? Since the day her mother was diagnosed with AIDs, Jana had known that her mother was going to die within her lifetime. She refused to cry, talk, or even think about the inevitable fate of her mother. Moping about her mother wasn’t going to get her anywhere, so Jana had no choice but to move on from the day of diagnosis and continue on with her own life. She got into the shower, and started to think about that dreaded physics lab she had to complete by tomorrow.

*                         *                       *

As Jana was busy with her homework, Jill became sick of watching television and stumbled to get up from the couch. The sickly woman hobbled over to her most prized possession, her grand piano that she inherited from her beloved grandfather. Her spidery fingers rummaged through her old music until she found a large book of classical piano pieces. Skimming through the yellowing pages, she at last found the piece she had been searching for. Her blotchy nose smelled the aged, musky smell that old paper always has, and she placed her music on the piano. Placing her hardened hands on the ivory keys, she started to play “Clair de Lune”. Her sound was hesitant, but tender and refined. Jill hadn’t played piano in ten  years, but even after the first few chords she felt as good as new, even as healthy as she was ten years ago. Debussy’s notes soared across the room, and her playing became louder, more passionate as she went further and further into the music. Her fingers soared across the piano with a vigour and beauty that had never escaped her before. Her weak body became stronger with each note and she swayed deeply as her fingers went up and down the keys. She felt free from her disease and became stronger, as if she were living inside of her vibrant soul and not her feeble body. Victimized no longer by her weak state, she finished the piece completely rejuvenated once more. With only days, maybe hours left to live, Jill saw a glimpse of her former, impassioned self that she had not seen in years. With that, she could finally rest, knowing who she was.

*                         *                       *

 Wondering why her mother decided to start playing piano again, Jana came downstairs and headed towards the music room. She opened the door hesitantly, and found music sprawled all over the floor. Alongside the tattered music, was her mother’s body. She shook her mother's bony shoulders, “Wake up Mommy! Wake up!” Jill didn't move from her daughter's pleas, and her body remained lifeless. Her daughter looked around the room in panic, unable to comprehend that the end of her mother’s exhausting disease had finally come. Jana whipped out her phone and trembled to call 911. 

“Hello, I think my mother is dead.” 

She was stuttering while she spoke to the officer on the other line. Her mother? Dead? It could not be happening, she had been alive and breathing just a few hours ago. She could barely hear the man on the phone as she was sputtering out her address and mother's tragic medical history. The man said they would be there as fast as they could, and that Jana shouldn't worry, but Jana didn't have to worry. Her mother had finally died from AIDs.

*                         *                       *

Jana put on her black dress, and her mother’s old emerald earrings for the memorial. She adored those earrings, and her mother always meant to give them to her. “They match your beautiful eyes,” she once said, “I know you’ll take good care of them one day”. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she saw wisps of her mother’s beauty. The long, blonde hair, slim figure, and crooked smile reminded her about her mother's vibrance that she had once possessed so long ago. A single tear ran down her grieving face, and once Jana saw her crying self in the mirror, she could no longer hold in her deep sadness. Sobbing now, she could finally believe that her mother was gone. She crouched onto the floor, unwilling now to go downstairs for the memorial in this distraught state. She grabbed a picture of her healthy mother, and clutched it to her heaving chest. Her mother was dead, and there was nothing Jana could do to change that.

Healthier, Wealthier, and Wiser

                At LHS it is the goal of many students to excel in every aspect of their lives.  This large number of driven students creates a highly competitive atmosphere at LHS that is quite unusual for a high school.  It makes students drive themselves harder as they are constantly aware of the competition between them and the other students.  This competition is also driven by students’ inner desire for prosperity, which they feel will follow naturally from hard work.  While this can give rise to exceptional thinkers and highly intelligent people, it also can create a host of other problems, including sleep deprivation, disorganization, and a feeling of being overwhelmed.  All of these problems can be addressed and alleviated by paying attention to the proverbial wisdom of Ben Franklin.  Although his metaphors may seem outdated, his core messages still can be applied to LHS.  Franklin’s proverbs concerning time management, helping oneself, and learning form the mistakes of others all have valuable lessons to teach LHS students and are very helpful along the road from high school to future prosperity.

                To begin, the word prosperity must be defined.  The Merriam-Webster definition of ‘prosperity’ is “the condition of being successful or thriving; especially economic well-being”.  The first part can be applied to most situations, and thus applies here, but the second part does not.  Future economic security isn’t the main goal of LHS students; that is a concern that will be addressed later in life.  For LHS students prosperity means doing lots of extracurricular activities, having their lives be as diverse as possible, getting enough sleep while doing all these activities, and always getting good grades.  The point of all this is to make oneself as attractive to colleges as possible, as that is the only way (in many peoples’ minds) to a happy life later.  Thus, the definition of prosperity at LHS is to get good grades, while simultaneously being involved in as many activities as possible and getting sufficient sleep.

                At LHS one of the key concerns of students is how to balance all of their activities.  Students must figure out how to fit all of their extracurricular activities, school work, and down time into a day that only lasts for 24 hours.  Doing this requires a highly developed sense of time management, and this can be developed by paying attention to the words of Ben Franklin.  One of his proverbs reads “since thou art not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour”.  This proverb applies much more to the current generation than to any previous one due to the prevalence of technology.  In a world where plans can be communicated to large groups of people practically instantly, it is very important to use time wisely, as students are never sure if their plans will change.  By using the time available productively, students are flexible in the event of a change, which will lead to reduced stress.  This will in turn have a host of other effects including improved exam performance and a feeling of well-being similar to increased sleep.  Another applicable proverb says “one today is worth two tomorrows”.  By doing today what students could have done tomorrow, they free up more time in their lives for leisure, or if they wish, other activities.  By doing what they can as soon as possible they create more space in their 24 hour days to spend as they wish, which will aid in stress reduction and in the involvement in more activities.  By doing these simple things prescribed by Franklin, students can enter a state of being at LHS that does not have excessive work and minimal free time.

                At all times at LHS students feel the pressure coming from their parents, themselves, and the other students around them.  While some of them might take the pressure well and use it to drive themselves harder, others might simply cave in and wait for help from an unknown outside benefactor.  These are the people who would benefit most from Franklin’s wisdom via proverbs, one of which says “diligence is the mother of good luck”.  By working hard at LHS students can create their own success, some of which they will then attribute to luck.  By always feeling lucky they will gain an improved attitude and a better work ethic, both of which will contribute to good grades each quarter.  This diligence will also seem to reduce their workload by completing it faster, giving them more free time and therefore more time to sleep (or do other things, as mentioned above).  Another proverb says that “God gives all things to industry”.  In the same way that good fortune will follow from diligence gifts will seem to come more often to those who work.  Because of their improved performance that will invariably follow this diligence students will see things in a brighter light than they would have otherwise; they take the ‘cup-is-half-full’ view more often.  Therefore by following Ben Franklin’s advice a student at LHS will prosper more due to increased performance in school.

                A third important aspect of prosperity at LHS is learning from mistakes.  As no student is perfect, mistakes are bound to happen and when they do, it is imperative that people learn from them.  Franklin’s proverbs can help in this area, especially the one that says “wise men learn by others’ harms, fools scarcely by their own”.  By learning from their mistakes, as even fools do, and from the mistakes of others, students will learn at a much faster rate than those who only learn from their own.  Taking into account the ways that others are mistaken makes it easier to see the ways that a student might be, and thus avoid them before they are even made.  Another proverb that will help students who make mistakes (that is to say, all of them) reads “those that won’t be counseled can’t be helped”.  If students refuse to use the options for help that they are given, then they will not prosper.  On the other hand, if they swallow their pride long enough to listen to what others have to say, they will benefit.  By listening to these words of wisdom from Franklin students will rarely make the same mistake twice, which will greatly aid in their academic performance.

                Competition among students at LHS is fierce, with large numbers of highly motivated students competing for a small number of college slots.  This competition, while sometimes good, can lead to a host of side effects which can be alleviated by paying close attention to the proverbial wisdom of Ben Franklin.  Although some of his proverbs may seem outdated, many of them still apply to life here at LHS.  By listening to what he has to say, students will find themselves able to spend more time doing the things that they love, and improving all aspects of their lives at LHS.  In this state of prosperity LHS students will find themselves (as Franklin might say) healthier, wealthier, and wiser.