Monthly- Archives: February 2020

February 16, 2020

HENRY YUAN

The Importance of Family

I was a senior in high school. I had already been accepted to Penn State on a wrestling scholarship and was up against Anthony Paine for the State Title. Rated as the top seed in the tournament, Anthony was a massive guy who looked completely shredded. He was undefeated with twenty wins and was predicted to win. I was second with a record of 15-3. Even though I knew he was presumably better than me, I wasn’t nervous. I had already put the work in, I knew I could beat him, and it was time to perform.

My entire body felt disgusting, as sweat from other burly dudes was on me from the four other matches I had wrestled that day. I felt like a big piece of hot meat marinating in sweat. Even in this condition, I still powered through, hearing my coach screaming what to do and the crowd roaring.

Anthony liked single legs. A single leg is a move where you basically dive in for one of the opponent’s legs and take them down using their leg. This was Anthony’s favorite move on the feet. Right off the whistle, he dove for my leg; anticipating this, I jumped out of the way and tried to get behind him. We both knew what each other would go for, and both of us were ready to counter. At the end of the first period, Anthony dove one more time and successfully took me down, gaining two points. The score was 0-2. Now, it was the second period and it was my choice to pick a position. In wrestling, there are three positions: neutral, top, and bottom. In every match, the wrestlers start in a neutral stance – but, after the first period, there is a coin-toss, and the lucky wrestler chooses one of the three to start, and then, the other wrestler chooses a position at the start of the last period, if there is one. Usually, wrestlers chose bottom because if they escape and go to neutral they already get one point. That’s what I did: I chose bottom. As the whistle blew, I almost jumped up to my feet, and wrestled out of his grip, gaining one point. The score was 1-2. I was still losing. I needed at least one takedown. I set up my high-crotch. A high-crotch is a move where you also dive in for a leg, but your head is on the other side. On a single leg, your head is on the inside. On a high-crotch, your head is on the outside. I got in on the leg and was about to cut across, but then he hit an assassin. An assassin is for when your opponent goes for the high-crotch, and when they are cutting across, you take their head, and put them directly on their back. This was really bad – I almost got pinned. But after struggling on my back for almost ten seconds, I finally got out – but he got 2 points for a takedown, and 3 backpoints for exposing my back for five seconds. The score was 1-7. I was down 6 points, and it was the third period.

Anthony chose neutral, which was unusual. “Do that move!” my coach screamed. Once he said that, I had a plan. As the whistle blew, I was looking for openings to hit this move. It was do-or-die. I clubbed him hard on the head (a legal move) and felt him give in the slightest bit. That was when I knew I could hit that. I wrapped his arm and head in my arms and sat my hips through, throwing him. After feeling him struggle on his back, the ref slammed the mat. I pinned him, having used an advanced reverse-pretzel.

I still felt like a meat-machine, clothed in a singlet and face pressed with the stitch marks from the mat. My hand was thrown to the sky as the victor, but I didn’t feel like one. The advanced reverse-pretzel is not a forbidden move, but because it is extremely difficult to pull off, and easy for the opponento punish, the organizers thought that no one would actually try it in a match. Most people would be happy, but seeing my opponent writhe in pain made my stomach twist. I might have won the state finals, but at what cost? Before I could think about an answer, I was interrupted by a medic rushing onto the mat, shoving me aside. “How did you even do this!?” the medic screamed at me, “No legal wrestling move should be able to hurt someone as bad as this. What could you possibly have done?”

“I don’t know! I think it’s called the reverse-pretzel. It’s a more advanced version of it, not many people know about it. I didn’t know it could inflict this much damage!”

I pleaded. I truly didn’t know how much damage that one move would do but it was the only move I knew that would end the match in a win. I had been down 6 points and there were only 30 seconds left in the match. I could only have pinned him using the reverse-pretzel. Before I could say anything else, my coach ran up to me and clasped my shoulders. “You did it!” he yelled over all of the commotion. Then suddenly a middle-aged woman started screaming in my direction:

“How could you do this to my baby?!?” her voice pierced through the crowd. I just shrugged and continued to celebrate with my coach. That’s when she ran over to me and started screaming in my face. “How dare you celebrate after what you have done to my baby!? Do you even see what you have done?” She had tears streaming down her face. Before she could get another word in, one of the medics yelled at her to shut up, as he needed concentration. I was relieved, I didn’t want to reverse-pretzel two people within 5 minutes! But, before I could relax, the opponent’s coach saw what the medic said to the opponent’s mom and went over to the medic.

“Hey! Don’t tell her to shut up! She is just trying to protect her son!” The medic turned around, looked directly into his eyes and yelled, “You are currently endangering the life of this child. As a coach, you should know what you are doing. I’m a certified medic and it seems to me like you don’t want this child to survive.”

“No, that’s not my intention, that is the kid’s mother, just be more respectful,” the coach said, realizing everyone had gone quiet and was listening to what was happening.

“If it isn’t…” the medic started to raise his voice even more, slowly towering over the coach. “Then be a coach, comfort her, and get out of my face! I have a kid to save.” The coach walked over to the crying mother.

“This is all your fault!” the mother cried out, pointing at me. This time I snapped. I started walking over to her.

“Your son being absolutely and utterly destroyed by me is not my fault. I trained hard for this, obviously more than your son, looking at the results,” I said, directly into her face.

“How dare you! I bet Anthony worked twice as hard as you did. You just used an illegal move!”

“Okay, that’s enough.” The referee intervened.

Everything else went by in a flash. Anthony Paine was taken out of the gym on a stretcher and I was named state champion. It was great but, at the same time, it wasn’t.

***

At Penn, 6 months later, I was getting ready for the new wrestling season, majoring in Business with a full wrestling scholarship. Training was difficult, the people on the team were all extremely good, and they all had a passion and were hardworking. I mean, they wouldn’t be on the team if they weren’t. During practice, we would all push each other to further heights. School was hard, and trying to balance both studying and wrestling was difficult to get used to, but I think I was getting it down. College wasn’t what I thought it to be; I thought college was going to be easy, fun, chill, but it wasn’t anything like that. Everything was on such a tight schedule, so that I, most days, barely got any sleep before starting the next day all over again. Even with this, wrestling taught me how to overcome difficulties and how to adapt to tough situations.

It was the match that decided whether I was going to get into the NCAA tournament. I was up against another freshman at 170 pounds. I was the higher seed going into the match, but I knew I couldn’t let my guard down. It was a quick match, and within the first period, I pinned him using a half-nelson. And that was it: I was in the real tournament, that is where the real journey begins. As a freshman, I had made it to the NCAA tournament – the highest level of college wrestling. Other than the Olympics, there is no other tournament more important than this.

After briefly celebrating my swift victory, the coaches and I went back to training the next day. No days off. The NCAA tournament is the most competitive college annual wrestling tournament and a huge deal. If you won gold, you would be remembered in your school, especially if you were the first to snag it, and Penn State hadn’t had a gold winner in awhile.

Recently, a new policy change in the NCAA ruled that not only were student-athletes not allowed to be paid, but if they didn’t perform, they could lose their scholarship if they had one, and/or be kicked off the team. When I first heard this, I thought the person telling me was joking, but he wasn’t. There was a chance that, if I didn’t perform, I could lose my full ride. This was devastating, and my stress level increased dramatically. I tried to focus on training but that faint voice in the back of my head slowly got louder: What if you mess up? What if you don’t perform? You will lose everything.

I had the most intense practices; we were training for two extra hours a day with “live situations”. Live situation is when you wrestle like it’s a real match. It is a completely different mode of preparation – much more demanding than mere drilling. Apart from wrestling, I also had many in-school tests, and even with my self-proclaimed work ethic, this was too much.

With one week until the NCAA tournament, the pressure doubled. Struggling to finish all my class obligations so I could could fully focus on wrestling, every day I would wake up at 6 am, get a morning lift on, and run. Go to class, eat, wrestle for five hours, and repeat.

“Come on, we are almost late,” my coach said, getting out of the van. In actuality we still had an hour before weigh-ins even started; my coach just liked to arrive early to get a good warm-up, and if anyone needed to cut, they could cut. Weight is very important for sports like wrestling and MMA, and if a wrestler was heavier than their weight class threshold, they would have to cut weight, and on the day of a match, this would mean losing water weight by dressing in layers, working a stationary bike, or running. This way, the body gets rid of extra water, hence the name, water-weight. I was right at threshold, so I only had to warm up. Warm-ups I usually enjoyed. This day though, I had long been dreading. It felt like life or death. I needed to keep that scholarship. I remembered a year ago, around this time, I had been warming up for the state finals, and that I’d won with the reverse-pretzel. Then, it was still somewhat enjoyable. But now, there was so much more on the line. I tried doing my usual warm-up routine: jogging, stance and motion (assuming the wrestling stance and then moving as if the opponent was actually there), et cetera, but I couldn’t get the feel. I couldn’t concentrate with that screaming voice in my head.

Going into the tournament, I was the first seed, which means that I ranked at or near the best season’s record. The higher seeds wrestle against the lower seeds in the beginning to make the semis and finals more interesting. The first person I wrestled was the 16th seed, the worst wrestler of my weight class.

“Alright, shake hands. Wrestle!” The referee blew his whistle. Right off the bat I could feel the difference between this opponent and everyone else I’d wrestled before. Even though that wrestler was technically the worst wrestler in the tournament, he was one tough NCAA 16^th seed.

Ten seconds left in the first period, I faked and then shot a high crotch, my favorite leg takedown. I drove my legs into the ground as hard as I could, and with two seconds left in the period, I scored a takedown.

In this NCAA match, the opponent won the coin flip and wanted bottom.

The opponent got down – I set up and looked at the ref. As the whistle sounded, both of us exploded. I looked for the arm chop and he looked for the switch. The moment I felt him trying to switch, I started driving my feet into the ground stopping his move. After that, I could go to work, looking for any little imperfection in his base and exploiting it. It was only the first few seconds so I had a lot of time. I tried probably 15 different moves, but it is very hard to pin someone in the college level: I was learning that, in NCAA wrestling, everyone is well trained and well conditioned, so any move you do, more or less, your opponent will know how to counter. Finally, with 30 seconds left, I threw in a half nelson, I threw it as deep as I could and dug my feet onto the mat, exposing his back to the mat. I stayed there for a bit, letting the referee count back-points, then slowly, I put him away. I heard the whistle sound and the referee hit the mat. When my hand was raised, I celebrated only for a moment because I knew that this was only the beginning of my journey at the tournament.

In my weight class, there was only one person that I knew I would definitely have trouble with. He was the second seed; I’d wrestled him during the season and we’d gone pretty even. My record against him was 3-2, 3 wins and 2 losses – they were all close matches. I was probably going to go against him in the finals.

I breezed through the next two matches; they were higher seeds than the first guy, but I believe the nerves got to them. They made a lot of mistakes and eventually paid for them. I wrestled 3 matches that day, making the finals. The finals were the next day, so that the organizers could reformat the wrestling mats, and the finalists could recover.

As we drove back to the hotel we were staying in, I asked my coach, “So I’m against that guy at the final. What if I do the same move as before?”

“I don’t think you should risk it, it could potentially screw you over. Maybe for a last ditch effort, but still, then you should go to your go tos, the ones you’ve trained to do.”

That got me thinking. I knew that I could beat Paine, but how would I do it? Last time, I barely pinned him, but I don’t think he will let me do that again. “This time it will be much better,” I thought.

Once we got back to the hotel, I showered and ate dinner: unseasoned chicken with bland rice, my favorite! I was so sick and tired of eating tasteless food. I craved flavorful food like steak, chicken wings, even a quarter-pounder.

As I ate, I slowly zoned out. I probably seemed pretty odd, chewing slowly and staring at nothing. I was thinking about what would happen if I won or lost. What things I would do to celebrate the win, or how I would face my parents after losing my wrestling scholarship. Suddenly, I had an urge to go outside. Abruptly, I stood up and threw away my half-eaten dinner and went outside.

Walking down the street without a destination was refreshing. Recently, I had been so caught up in school and wrestling that I hadn’t been able to appreciate the outside world. After walking for about ten minutes, I started to really think. Some people hype themselves up the day before the match but I try to relax and let my mind wander. Usually my thoughts would be pretty optimistic. I hadn’t taken any real losses yet, and I knew I wasn’t going to take any, anytime soon. But for this one match, I felt uneasy. I had never been this stressed before. This was like going into the finals at State, but at a whole different level. Suddenly my stomach started to twist. The more I thought about the match, the worse it got. The pain got so intense that I started throwing up! This was too much – I had to do something.

Ring! Ring! Ring! I called my mom. “Mom, I can’t do this anymore, this is crazy, I’m going crazy.”

“Okay slow down, Honey. What’s going on? Aren’t you in the finals tomorrow?”

“Yes, but that’s the problem. I don’t think I can compete. I’m scared.”

“Scared of what? This is your first year in UPenn, you have already gotten so far this year. Focus on the things you can control, just wrestle as hard as you can. If you don’t win, you still have 3 more years to improve.”

After saying thanks to my mom, I continued walking; I thought about the situation.

“Is it really that serious?”

“Of course it is, your future rides on this,” the voice said.

“No, that can’t be right, why would they remove my scholarship just off not winning a match?”

“Didn’t you read the policy changes yourself? You could lose everything. You don’t have enough money for college: how are you going to get that degree?”

“Stop it,” I said trying to drown it out.

“You know you can’t avoid me, I am a part of you.”

“STOP IT!!!” I screamed. A local jogger stopped in front of me and asked what was wrong, but before he finished, I started sprinting in the direction he had come from.

After ten minutes, I stopped at a public park and sat on a bench, out of breath.

Everything seemed so perfect. The sunset was beautiful, so many shades of red, yellow, and orange blended together in the most perfect way. The trees were blooming in that color too, and it was like a scene taken straight out of a movie.

After I caught my breath, I started walking back towards the hotel, just looking around.

***

“On the green side, from Michigan State, Anthony Paine!!!” the announcer yelled. The crowd roared in support as he jogged on to the mat. “And on the red side, from Penn State, Elliot Robbins!!!” the announcer yelled as I jogged into the gym, and did a lap around the mat. The crowd booed so loud that I could feel the vibrations in my chest. This was his home turf, and he had the advantage.

We lined up on the circle and the referee told us to shake hands. “Wrestle!” The referee blew his whistle. Right off the bat, he felt like a different person: he had become much stronger and faster, but so had I. For the first few seconds, nothing really happened as we were starting to feel each other out, and then suddenly, he shot a single-leg. A single-leg is a move where the attacker attacks one leg and uses it to manipulate the defender’s hips; it is a fundamental move which is effective even in college. There are many ways to defend a single, and I chose to scramble, because I’m most comfortable there. A scramble is not an actual move, it’s a position where both people can win. It is a little strange compared to the other parts of wrestling so you need experience to perform well in that area.

After almost the entire first period going by, neither of us had scored a point. Then, I snapped his head down hard, and when his head came back up, I shot for his legs. Wham! His head smashed into mine as he down-blocked, basically blocking my shot with his head and hands. I fell to the mat holding my head, he circled around and got two points as the first period closed, with the crowd roaring.

Entering the second period, I had priority of choice, but with such a long time to go, my coach told me to defer, or give the opponent the choice this period. Anthony chose bottom, a safe choice, but I knew my top was really good so I was confident. Immediately after the referee blew his whistle, he went for a stand-up, a standard escape where you basically stand up. I brought him back down with a massive, loud, mat-return. A mat-return is a move where the opponent is standing and you lift them and put them back on the mat. I could feel the tension from the crowd through that one move. It is very flashy but isn’t as effective as it may seem. The crowd obviously didn’t know that, and their reaction made me smile a little. I went directly into a leg ride. A leg ride is when you put one or two legs onto their thigh area; this gives the user a lot of control but is sometimes risky. “Use that move!” I heard my coach scream. Once I heard that, I saw the opening and immediately went into full auto-pilot.

What I tried was the flying-squirrel. It is where I release the opponent for a split second, then almost flip over them, ideally pinning them, but before I realized what had happened, I was on my back, pinned.

“What did you just do?!? Our chances of staying at UPenn are now GONE!” that voice said.

“What happened?”

“You tried that move and utterly failed. How did you fail that bad?”

“I don’t know, -”

My thought was cut off by the ref raising Anthony’s hand.

“You almost got me,” he said when shaking my hand. I couldn’t believe what had happened; I walked off the mat to my coach and waited for the bad news.

My coach, probably seeing how down I looked, said, “It’s okay, there’s always next year.”

“Next year?!” I doubted.

“Yeah, of course.”

“What about the new NCAA policy?”

“What new policy?”

“The policy having to do with letting go under-performing athletes?”

“Oh that’s bulls**t! Why would we do that to a member of our family? Who told you about that?”

I honestly couldn’t recall who I’d heard it from. It took me a second to realize that whoever had told me that had been wrong. Dead wrong.

“How stupid am I?” I scoffed at myself.

“Just focus on the process and don’t worry about the results. Only focus on the things you can control. Did you wrestle with 100% of your mind, body, and soul?” my coach asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Then let’s learn from this match and get better so we can beat them next time. Remember, focus on the process, and the results will come accordingly.”

During my time at Penn State Wrestling, I learned a lot, went through hardships, and got stronger through those hardships. What rang through my ears that day, and for a long time was: “No matter the struggle, family is always #1”.

February 14, 2020

DANIEL XU

THE GARBAGE HOLE: A WORMHOLE OF TRASH

An immense white ship sailed through space; the ship had the letters USA printed on it, and living there were Americans traveling to Mars. Everything was going according to plan so far, and everything had to go according to plan for the rest of the journey if the Americans wanted to be the first humans on Mars. The ship had been traveling for six and a half months, but in the endless amount of space, it looked like the ship hadn’t moved an inch since they blasted out, away from the Earth’s orbit. Nothing exciting had happened either since they blasted out into space, and no one was expecting anything exciting to happen, but in a few minutes, something exciting would happen and the astronauts had no idea… Right ahead of the ship was a huge wormhole, the size of 10 Jupiters, which transported anything near it to a place in the middle of nowhere. This wormhole was what kept all aliens from invading, but also from discovering Earth; anyone who came, never came out.

Beep! Beep! The control panel in the meeting room was picking up a call from Earth. Immediately, all the astronauts floated to the meeting room from wherever they were, from napping in their cabin to reading a book in the ship’s tiny library.

Beep! Beep! The control panel sounded again. Captain Jasper Roosevelt pressed a big green button… the screen was blank, but a few seconds later, the astronauts saw Admiral James Bernard, the Supervisory Deputy Director for Center Operations for the United States Space Force, appear on the screen – he was sitting at his desk wearing his usual black silk suit.

“Houston to USA Achilles Challenger –do you copy? Bernard here. Over.”

“Captain Jasper Roosevelt here.”

“Captain Roosevelt: daily report please.”

“Yes, Admiral. Most of the astronauts are doing fine, but 3 have been spacesick for the last few days, and they are drinking medicine and feeling better. We have the spaceproof bags and jars ready for the soil and rock samples – ” Buzzzz Buzzzzzzzz –

“Wait – Captain Roosevelt – you cut out – Captain Roosevelt?”

“Yes, Admiral Bernard, I can hear you.”

“Well, as you were saying – I think I heard something about spaceproof bags. Are you running out already? Do you need Houston to send you some more garbage bags, huh?”

“No, sir, I said the spaceproof bags are ready to receive the samples… Buzzzzzz Buzzzzzz… we are Buzzzzzz running out of Buzzzzzz… with the spaceproof bags. ”

“Huh? Is the garbage ready for launch you said? Well, yes I’m outside launching a garbage bag filled with spaceproof bags out to you right now.”

Captain Roosevelt opened his mouth to speak, but coincidentally or not, the screen glitched right there, then went black. Some of the operators ran forward to fix it, but fell back. The ship shook, then went left and right. The ship started to turn to one side now, and then even farther to that side, and even farther. Soon the ship was turning like the wheel of a speeding race car.

Captain Roosevelt was screeching his lungs until the membrane started to come up through his throat, and the operators were groaning from the pressure of their chairs against the computers; before long, the ship that had been a calm, quiet place had turned into a zoo of howling monkeys, a sea of loudness, a million sonic bombs blowing up at once. Astronauts were sweaty from all their air-running, their faces were as red as freaked-out cherries, and their hair was wild. Jasper was choking on his lung membrane and dizzily spinning around, but other than that, he was in decent shape; the ship swayed and carried the astronauts with it. The astronauts were going into the wormhole and they still had no idea.

Back on Earth, Admiral Bernard was about to call the President of the USA, Mr. York, for his daily report. Admiral Bernard paced around, thinking of what he should say. Should he say that the astronauts were fine and on track, or share his garbage conundrum – or just blame it on the glitchy radio?

Finally, the Admiral got up enough courage and strode across the control room to the bank of VIP phones on the wall. Selecting the red phone, he sighed deeply, and picked up.

Bring ring Brrrrring!

“The White House VIP line, how may I assist?”

“This is Admiral Bernard. I need to speak to President York asap.”

“President York is on a conference call with the leaders of the Russian and Morovanian embassies, talking about – “

“I don’t think you understand me, Miss… Miss… – “

“I’m Missus Tibbs.”

“Oh, excuse me, Madame,” said the Admiral, blushing in embarrassment. “I can wait. In the meantime, how are things generally in the West Wing?”

“Oh, the president is busy talking to Mr. President Boris Vlad, and as you know, he has extreme anger issues, and is extremely jealous of the US… and not being able to be the first country on Mars.”

“Actually, that is exactly why I want to speak to him.”

“You mean, I can help you? I…I… mean you can cure Boris’s anger issues??”

“Well… no. I’m afraid I have some bad news from the astronauts.”

“Oh no! We can’t meet this weekend? … I mean, uh did they die??”

“Well, no again.”

Way up in space, the ship had stopped spinning because it had landed. Everything was quiet, then there was a rustle as it settled, then everyone groaned in pain.

Neil Armstrong III slipped on his rich, shiny, golden, jewel-encrusted spacesuit with diamonds on the helm, and stepped outside. The terrain was nothing like Neil expected, in fact, it was much worse: the ground wasn’t visible because of garbage covering the surface; the sky was black as ink, but there was one thing that stood out, a black and white dot: a rare black and white comet! Neil the III ran back to the ship, unsnapped his wire tied to the spaceship, opened the door to the spaceship, rushed into the decompression room, took off his space helmet and suit, and floated his way back to the meeting room to inform the others.

Soon, everyone was in their spacesuits and gathered in the endless amount of trash. The group of astronauts, all bottled up in their spacesuits, were aghast at what they beheld: long rows of discarded spacemeals, the wrappers curled with age, all sorts of crushed and broken land vehicles, some looking like bent saucers, others like big ugly radiators, and there were even some spaceship wreckages, looking like shipwrecks under the sea. There were weird looking cannons, guns, and other weapons left by aliens who had detected and planned to invade Earth, but got caught up in the wormhole and failed. Old yet futuristic looking chairs and sofas were strewn around like popcorn from a thrown box at the movies, and there was no end to the piles. But as Neil III pointed, everyone’s eyes were caught on something coming from space: all were watching a rare black and white comet in the sky. It was getting closer and closer by the second, then… it landed… right on Neil’s head, knocking him 100 feet back with a force as strong as five rhinos… and into a pile of trash; thankfully he didn’t land on rocks, but instead, landed on somewhat-soft garbage bags.

He groaned. Everyone gasped. Neil groaned again. It was the garbage from Houston. Everyone rapidly turned their heads around and pretended not to notice, because they all knew how grumpy Neil could be when his ornate suit got soiled. Yet, he only other thing that was to be seen surrounding Neil III was just… trash.

Whoosh… Whoosh… Everyone looked up in the sky to the entrance to the wormhole that the ship had entered, realizing together that the black and white comet had actually been the entrance, closing behind the shipment of spaceproof bags from Houston. The swirling, now purple and blue, now black and white wormhole entrance was getting farther and farther until it was a tiny microscopic dot, and then it disappeared.

Neil III screamed behind all the astronauts, ordered his astroservants to wipe him off, and stomped his way back into the ship.

Neil floated to his private diamond-covered bathroom, and went straight into the bathtub, turned on the water, and got his gold and sapphire ducky (which floated around in the no-gravity air) barely getting wet. Drops floated throughout the air, causing Neil to seem like a man surrounded by tiny planets. He stayed there until he calmed down and then got dressed again. On Earth, Admiral Bernard and Mrs. Tibbs were still on their phone call.

“So, since President York isn’t here. Would you like to chat for now??” Mrs. Tibbs said dreamily. “I can just see you now, in your signature black Louis Vuitton suit, hanging on the edge of your desk – .”

“Uhhhh, ok??” Bernard said.

“– ah, so dashing.”

Creeeak, the office door opened, and President York stepped in. He was wearing a blue business suit without a single trace of lint on it.

“Mrs. Tibbs, I need you to call Mr. Bernard immediately, he has not given his daily report yet.”

“Oh, well it just so happens to be that I am on the phone with him right now.”

“I’m sorry, and there is no way for you to know this, because you have been otherwise occupied, but we have a serious issue with Achilles Challenger right now.”

“I know, for Mr. Bernard told me about an issue with the ship, and that they might be in danger.”

“Yes, and I would like to talk to him now.”

“But… but… I mean, yes, right away, Mr. President.”

Mrs. Tibbs handed the phone to the president sadly.

“Hello, Admiral, can you hear me?” Mr. York said.

The admiral gulped, then said, “Yes, sir, I can hear you clearly. It sounds like my vice-admiral called your office directly. I’ll have to speak to him about – .”

“Yes, good, I heard from the Vice. Why didn’t Tibbs connect us immediately? You obviously are the one I need to talk to. Now: the astronauts are not doing as well as we hoped?”

“Yes, I was listening to their daily report when the screen blacked out and I heard some groans and screams.”

Back up in the nothingness of space, the astronauts collectively sighed – there was nothing except for astronaut and alien remains, but one astronaut, a woman named Julia Ryan, had an idea. With so many wires, cables, and metal remains, they could build something to get themselves out! Julia knocked on Neil’s door and walked in.

“Are you alright, Neil dear?” she asked.

“Well, not quite,” Neil replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, but listen, I think I might have found a way to get all of us astronauts out of this junky place; there is definitely enough advanced technology so that the engineers can build something that can help us get out of here!”

Neil III abruptly popped up from his silver-encrusted armchair.

“Yes, Julia, yes!” Neil suddenly turned to his excited positive side, which he rarely showed.

“Hold on Neily, we don’t even know if this is going to work yet and yet you’re so excited.”

“Well, if we don’t try it, how will we know if it’s gonna work!” Neil exclaimed, while running out the door of his room.

Back in Miss Tibbs’ office, the president was still speaking to the Supervisory Deputy Director for Center Operations for the US Space Force, Admiral James Bernard.

“Is everyone on the Achilles Challenger alright?” the president asked.

“Well, not exactly, the screen blacked out before I could ask them.”

While the president and the admiral were speaking, Mrs. Tibbs sat down in her chair; she sighed happily and daydreamed about her own Admiral James Bernard.

Neil III ran down the ship’s hallway, his new emerald-topped boots clicking and clacking on the magnetic surface. When he finally got to the control room, everyone was there, all looking depressed and bored. This is the perfect time to reveal Julia’s brilliant idea, Neil thought, when everyone’s least expecting it.

The admiral and the president were still talking on the phone.

“Do you think they will find a way out of whatever problem they’re in?”

“Hopefully yes, but no matter what, we must act quickly before Boris and the Morovanian embassy get suspicious, eh?” the Admiral said cautiously.

“Admiral, your report on this topic has been fascinating, if a little vague. Well, I think I better get going, I have some contracts to sign and it’s getting late.”

“I better get going with my work too.”

“Goodbye,” the president said, sounding tired and worried.

“My fellow astronauts, could I please get your undivided attention!” The astronauts floated to attention. Some pieces of spacedust were wiped away from a few of their glasses (for those who wore glasses) by automatic mini window washers.

Neil the Third floated erect, his spine straightening painfully (for his muscles had atrophied). “Crew of Achilles Challenger! Shout your marked attention!”

The entire crew looked at each other confused, expecting Neil III to still be raging with anger, for when he got angry, it took days for him to get over it, but they shrugged and shouted HOOORAH!

“Ok, quiet down, quiet down please… We are gathered here today facing a few possible options, both of which have Death himself gathered to watch us!”

Julia looked at Neil and frowned.

But it was to be: for little did Julia know it, but Neil the III was a gifted orator. And when his mouth opened, all became increasingly drenched in awe, adoration, and fealty.

“This day is called the Day of the First Astronauts:

One who contributes to this day, and gets to Mars,

Will stand with pride when this day is celebrated,

And be honored when one says the name of this day.

One who shall live this day, and live long

Will yearly eat the feast on the Eve of the First Astronauts,

And others will say ‘To-morrow is the Day of the First Astronauts:’

Then will open their mouth and tell the story.

And say, “These I had on the First Day”.

Old people may forget, and all shall be forgot

But all will recall the First Day with pride

What astronauts did that Day: then shall our names

As closely held names as are known on Earth:

Neil the Third, Julia and Jasper,

Admiral Bernard and President York, even Mrs. Tibbs

By all with flowing eyes will be remembered.

This story will be passed from generation to generation

And The Day of the Astronauts shall never be forgot

From this day to the end of the universe

But we shall still be remembered;

A small group, but a joyful group, we astronauts are.

For he that contributes with me today,

Though wading in piles of the darkest trash

This day shall cause him to sniff the air:

And earthlings who know not the stench of wormholes

Will never think of themselves as leaders or as heroes,

And hold their society less while others speak

Of them who helped us upon the Day of the First Astronauts.”

Everyone was astounded and speechless for a while. Julia started clapping and the other astronauts joined in little by little and soon all the astronauts were cheering and applauding wildly; Neil III accepted his wild applause and bragged about how smart he was, to come up with this ingenious plan. Julia was still clapping and cheering wildly, and had happy tears in her eyes. ”Oh, I hope he considers dancing me in La Bourrée,” Julia thought dreamily, ”He’s so handsome and polite, he’s just the perfect one for me!”

“Okay, okay, quiet down my fellow astronauts, I haven’t even told you my amazing and brilliant plan yet,” Neil III said after several minutes of nonstop clapping. ”Now, now, are you ready to hear the plan?”

“Yes!” the crowd roared.

“Well, the plan is for the engineers to help all of us build something that can help us get out of here! The rest of you: there’s definitely enough developed technology out there in the ruins of the spaceships to build something good, like a wormhole opener or a portal to Mars: all we have to do is find it,” Neil III said.

All the astronauts but the engineers (who were busy packing their gear) suddenly got very excited and chattered among themselves about Neil III’s brilliant plan. As the astronauts conversed, the engineers walked out of the meeting room to get prepared for their next mission: building a portal leading the whole ship back on track, with the GPS set to Mars… .

The astronauts put on their space suits and set off into the wilderness of trash almost immediately after Neil III’s speech, all excited to get out of the wormhole and see something else, other than trash. All worked hard digging out wires so old that they were partly fossilized into the ground, and broke off parts of spaceships, all looking forward to the solution to escape, which would give them pride, when they finally got to Mars.

Meanwhile, back at the White House, the space admiral and the president were talking again.

“Do you have any bright plans for an emergency so urgent?” the president asked.

“I unfortunately don’t,” the admiral confessed sadly. “The astronauts are expected to land on Mars in a couple of weeks, but having lost all communication with them, it is my only understanding at this point to – ”

“Wait – isn’t there any other choice? If we told the whole world that the mission failed, Boris could get out astronauts into space and to Mars in no time! Millions of Americans could doubt the Space Force’s reason for existing!”

“Wait! I sent a bag of spaceproof bags to the Achilles Challenger a few hours ago, as they said they needed it,” Mr. Bernard demurred.

“When and why did they need that trash? Do you have the space-coordinates? Was that the last thing you said to them?” The president seemed to becoming more excited.

“Well, I sent the spacetrash exactly 5 hours, 34 minutes, and… 58 seconds ago, because they said they needed it. I need to call my employee for the space-coordinates and that, well, that was the last thing I said to them.” The Admiral was getting flustered.

The president scowled. “Bernie, are you telling me that you sent them trash? What in the hell for, may I ask?”

Admiral Bernard grew pale and muttered something.

“Excuse me, Bernie, did you say something?”

He mumbled again. “Bernie! What has gotten into you? This could be important, man!”

Admiral Bernard straightened up and met the President’s inquiring tone.

“Sir,” he said, his voice quavering a little bit, “I heard the astronauts say they needed spaceproof trashbags, but the connection could have been bad.”

Back in the wormhole…

“We’ve completed the great wormhole opener! We’ve completed the great wormhole opener!” screamed one of the engineers, running amazingly fast to the central control room.

“What?” Neil III said, almost speechless. “Really?” All the astronauts had already become hopeless that they were never going to get out of the wormhole. Neil III started running around the room uncontrollably excited. “I can’t believe we’re finally going to get out of this awful place!”

“Now, what are you waiting for? Let’s go inform the others!” Both astronauts ran down to their fellow astronauts’ rooms.

“Everyone!” Neil III screamed at the top of his lungs, “Our team has completed a task no-one was assuming would ever be completed, yet, with other strokes of luck, we’ve been able to survive. As mentioned in this afternoon’s briefing, all astronauts need to attend the unveiling and first functioning of the wormhole opener.”

Julia came to his side.

“You mean you found all the parts you needed from the ships nearby and built everything?” asked a cow-faced sergeant, responsible for cleaning the latrines.

“Sargeant Luce,” said Julia, walking up to Neil’s side, “Of course we’ve been keeping the whole plan under wraps until now. And here we – “

Neil stepped close to Julia and put his arm around her shoulder. “Julia.”

“Yes honey?”

“I got this.”

Neil suddenly jumped onto a big metal container and raised his arms. “Friends! Trash collectors! Astronauts! I am come to make an announcement! It is time to lead the way to the unveiling of the great and mighty wormhole opener!”

CLAP CLAP CLAP, all the astronauts roared and cheered.

Neil started walking towards a big metal door with a sign that said “Warning, Warning, Engineers only!” Neil III pushed open the door and inside was a giant fancy red velvet cloth with golden edges. “Attention, all astronauts! Now, I will begin unraveling the wormhole opener!” Neil III pulled the red cloth and… inside was a big shiny metal laser that looked like it could cut through anything. The crowd was speechless. The laser was glowing an eerie blueish purple color. It was about 6 feet long, lay on its side, and had a wheel at one end.

“And here is the great and mighty wormhole opener!” Julia said triumphantly. “Ooooooh! Ahhhhhh!” the crowd said, still a little speechless. “This high-tech laser will be put outside where it will shoot a beam into space and reopen the wormhole that brought us to this nasty place… and we will finally get to Mars!” Neil III crowed loudly. “Yeah!!!” the crowd of sprightly astronauts cheered.

Meanwhile, back in Washington D.C., President York had 30 minutes until he was to give a speech about how the astronauts had failed to land on Mars and had utterly disappeared from tracking.

Ring! Ring! Ring! The president picked up his brand new iPhone 23 Max.

“President York speaking. How may I help you?”

“Mr. President? Are you ready for your speech?” Admiral Bernard could be heard through the line.

“I hope so, Mr. Bernard. I still can’t believe our astronauts failed to get to Mars! We had preparations and contingency plans for the biggest things that could go wrong.” Mr. York sighed. “Admiral Bernard? Are you there?”

“President York, requesting a transmitting of incoming interstellar call.”

“Admiral, what do you mean?”

“Sir, please grant permission – .”

“Of course Bernie!”

There was the sound of static, and of a warping whine, fixing into place a new connection.

“This is the Achilles Challenger. I repeat, this is the Achilles Challenger. Houston, do you copy? This is Captain Jasper Roosevelt!”

The President dropped the iPhone 23 and its glass facing cracked. But he didn’t care: he was shouting in relief.

“Admiral Bernard? I can’t believe this is happening! We survived!” cried Captain Roosevelt cried over the interstellar line.

“Jasper, is it really you?! I haven’t heard from you in months! Where have you astronauts been?”

“This is the President speaking. Captain Roosevelt, how dare you fall out of communication with us! I need to know – .”

“Mr. President! I can explain! So, it all started when Admiral Bernard called from Houston for the daily report. We started spinning. The problem was misinterpreted and Admiral Bernard sent us spacebags, but they arrived in a big jumble, and seemed like a big heavy bag of trash was lobbed at us. Morale was low, and we started spinning even more. Luckily, Neil Armstrong III was on hand to get us re-orientated sir, and – .”

“So you’re saying that the ship got trapped in a spinny thing and you now you’ve just gotten out?!”

“Yes sir, pretty much.”

“And where are you now then?”

“We’re about to activate a machine that the engineers crafted to get out of this wormhole, which is what the spinny thing was.”

“Well, do it quickly! I’m about to give a speech on how you and the other astronauts’ failed, but now I need to re-write my speech!”

“Activation of the wormhole opener in 3! 2! 1! Mr. President, we’re launching the laser to open a portal now!”

There was a great cranking sound, a sudden release of air, and then an overpowering cutting sound.

“Good!”

“The ship is afloat and heading back towards Mars now, President York.” Jasper set the ship on autopilot to Mars and relaxed for once in months.

“Is the ship out of the wormhole, Jasper?”

“Yes, heading back, on track to Mars.”

And so the United States Space Force astronauts were heading to Mars and afterwards to Earth again and the president didn’t have to give his speech about how the astronauts failed, and all was well again.

February 12, 2020

TIFFANY CHAO

Convergence

Spirits are regarded as evil, only negative traces of whatever they used to be. People fear spirits, hunt ghosts, and tell stories about them as if they were passive monsters. The truth is, most aren’t malicious, hateful, or evil. They’re just alone. Forever. Or at least until they move on, or somehow become whole again. Because isn’t that why they are still hanging around? But the longer they wait, the more time weighs down heavily, dragging them from behind into further and further isolation, wearing them down to whispers in the air that no one can remember. The only thing that can stop their decline into meaninglessness is remembering who they once were, when they were trying to achieve their purpose while alive. Only then can they finally move on. Until then, they don’t remember their past. They don’t know why they exist, or who they are. All they know is the grueling loneliness that they sense may never end. Nobody wants to be alone, not completely. Nobody wants to wake up and know that there is not a soul out there who knows your name: nobody out there can hear you, see you, nor touch you.

Arden’s hair was a waterfall of glossy black locks. Her skin was pale; a translucent delicacy. She had a thin, bony frame. Her eyes were so dark that you couldn’t see her pupils if you tried – pools of a new moon so deep you might be able to swim in them, and yet one star in each eye seeming to gleam as if she were still living, breathing, and dreaming, as if she still had hope. She was unseen.

Elijah Saint Peters was the leftovers of a half-eaten man. Memories and scars had chipped away at him until he was just a breathing skeleton. Elijah worked part-time as a paper salesman. He had once known love, but had lost it all at once, in a single blighted afternoon. His face harbored jutting features, wilted pupils in empty eyes. Maybe long ago, he had been a strong, burly man with a twinkle in his eye, but now Elijah was old, on the edge of life, his cheeks hollow, sharp bones like knives under a thin cloth, back hunched.

Elijah soaked in his isolation each afternoon as he had to walk through woods, after work, to his lonely brick cottage with a chimney too small to be of any use. Leaving the town felt like he was glimpsing the afterlife, or was it an escape into the grief that had consumed him since he had lost it all, so very long ago, on that one flame-engulfed day? Amongst his possessions, he had also lost his dignity, his happiness, and most importantly, his daughter. His daughter, who had not yet seen six years, had been swallowed by a flaming house as easily as if she were a cracker.

After it all, Elijah removed himself from the outside world and was thrown into an inner world of pain, abrading and upbraiding his spirit until he practically buckled under the weight of grief that his body had lost the strength to uphold, and he felt the unquenchable desire to disappear forever. Opportunities he had to heal were ignored – loyalty to his daughter meant that Elijah sought only to live in the past.

The child-shaped hole in Elijah’s soul left him with no incentive to create new imprints in the world, and once he had barely managed to lay a paper-thin bandage over his hollow heart, he maintained composure by being as socially unremarkable as possible. Nobody ever noticed when he missed work and, in that sense, his invisibility made him more of a spirit than a man. Some wondered: “Was Elijah here today? Or did he ask to miss tomorrow?”

One early evening in spring, Elijah stepped into the overgrown grass surrounding his cottage and lay down for a spell – leaving an imprint, feeding off of his own solitude, wishing more than anything to be absorbed into the towering trees that did not cry over his insignificance.

But his tranquility was interrupted with a roar. A hollow vacuum that warped the silence into a bell shape. It was a lack of sound that suggested a presence. He got up.

After scouring the area once, twice, Elijah returned to his cabin, frustrated. However, a few minutes later, after another glance around at his surroundings, Elijah saw a fleeting silhouette of an indistinguishable something. He stood and crept toward the figure hidden within the shadows of the trees.

Arden was used to being alone, and, being like all other spirits, was used to knowing that the end may never come. Her past was a blank though: she didn’t know who she was or where she came from. She simply spent her time wandering around. She watched little girl babies being rocked back and forth. She watched friends (had she known them once?) play hopscotch, watched kids fighting on the playground, watched first romances and first kisses, watched happiness and livelihood unfold before her very eyes. But Arden didn’t let herself wish for it. Being but a spirit of a child, Arden had the wisdom of an old man, but the experience of a newborn.

Arden liked to play a game with herself when she started to feel lonely. She would watch the mothers and fathers gazing lovingly at their children, pretending they weren’t staring through her, but rather at her. She would run by the side of the playing children, laugh with the groups of adults telling jokes she couldn’t understand, insert herself into every family she could, just to convince herself that her own solitude was simply a figment of imagination.

But in these woods, there were no families to pretend with, no crowds to blend into. And for the first time, in that secluded spread of trees, Arden knew she had nobody. For the first time, Arden let herself be lonely, allowed it to fully seep in.

She saw the small clearing, and the small brick cottage with the chimney too small to be of any use. Stricken by curiosity, Arden looked at it, wondering who was inside. She stayed near the edge of the trees.

In that moment, as Arden’s eyes met another’s, peering out from the window, a tidal wave of memories flooded through her, flowing through her veins, and finally, she remembered.

She remembered the smoke choking at her lungs, tearing at her heart.

She felt her throat burning as she gasped for air.

She heard the sound of choking out her final scream.

Elijah was torn between disbelief and ecstasy. He couldn’t bear to believe it. He saw flames too, and remembered the way that the smoke had infiltrated his every pore as it likewise had obscured her from him forever.

Flashes of flame again, voices, their tones themselves burned away, blades tearing through every fiber of his being, the heat chasing his cold sweat into evaporated dryness.

Arden stepped closer to the house and her memories shifted from the fire to what the fire had destroyed: memories of laughter, bedtime stories, midnight snacks, being loved. Love, thick and soothing, returned. Yet how unlike what she’d been searching for it was! Arden knew she would never feel alone again.

Slowly, Arden began to feel warmth return to her body. She felt missing pieces of her memory restored. She felt bruises and cuts finally breathe to heal.

As for Elijah, his memories hadn’t been repressed, or missing, or incomplete, but rather, his emotions had drained away. Now, he felt himself feeling her laughter rather than hearing it, and letting the weight of sorrow crush him into nothing, so that feeling and sentiment might build him up again. And for the first time in what felt like forever, Elijah felt complete.

From two separate halves to two halves of a whole: the entirety of the girl was a spirit, and the entirety of the man was a shell, and together they merged and let themselves complete each other.

Elijah held Arden close to his chest. He caressed her with a fatherly touch that the girl could finally remember. He stared into the abyss of her eyes, he watched the fading afternoon light reflect on her glossy hair, seeing his own reflection in both. Elijah’s old bones ached, and Arden’s soul longed to be free, but neither cared. Arden wasn’t playing pretend anymore. Elijah wasn’t escaping anymore. Together, they felt themselves become complete, and together, they finally let themselves disappear.

February 11, 2020

MICHAEL DONG

This poem can be best enjoyed if one imagines that an old knight, circa 800 A.D., is lightly singing this as a lullaby to his grandson.

Untold, the tales of Knights of Gold

Untold, the tales of Knights of Gold
Ancient tales foretold – fight and show
Misplace the gold and face the truth
For Knights of Rock rise, at the dawn.

Gold lights shows but fills of greed
Rock dulls, bores but does the deed

Grandson, ye of little valor –
Listen to me, you Knight of Stone
Yore and lore are not attending
Unless you shake off your stupor.

The knights of gold bleed us, of our wealth
They steal, take, and haunt this great land
For decades they swoon the nobles,
And tarnish our reputation

Untold, the tales of Knights of Gold
Ancient tales foretold – fight and show
Misplace the gold and face the truth
For Knights of Rock rise, at the dawn.

Gold lights shows but fills of greed
Rock dulls, bores but does the deed

They take the attention of all
With their shining gear like heroes
Though on battlefields, like jesters
They boast of dragons, but really mice

Since the beginning, gold was weak
Since the beginning, rock was strong
Many eat gold, never eat rock
The rock has always been stronger

Untold, the tales of Knights of Gold
Ancient tales foretold – fight and show
Misplace the gold and face the truth
For Knights of Rock rise, at the dawn.

Gold lights shows but fills of greed
Rock dulls, bores but does the deed

Sing with me youth, and remember
Remember glory at its best
Remember honor, not money
Remember the brave knights of rock

Youth, you fail to impress but will
Since golden plains pleasure the eyes
but not the stomach. Gold is
Beauty but is easy to mend

Untold, the tales of Knights of Gold
Ancient tales foretold – fight and show
Misplace the gold and face the truth
For Knights of Rock rise, at the dawn.

Gold lights shows but fills of greed
Rock dulls, bores but does the deed

February 11, 2020

CHLOE ZOU

Dubuque Hijinks

Both Augusta and Toby thought living in Dubuque was decent if you didn’t count the ridiculously hard school system and homework, that is. The reason Augusta had even come to know the city was thanks to her dad who had come to Dubuque for a job. Toby though, was different – he was a native of Dubuque going back in the family line for generations.

Dubuque, Iowa could be beautiful but at the same time really tiring. It had a waterfront view where you had a perfect view of the Mississippi River and beautiful lights at night that shone in the darkness, but it also had hills that were a tough workout when walking anywhere. Dubuque was also a meeting point for the tri-state: Iowa, Illinois, and Wisconsin, and was also known for its education, which was one place they never, ever cut slack on. Most of the houses there were antique-looking houses that dated back to the mid-19th century, which both kids had zero interest in. What people didn’t know was what was behind all of the beautiful, breathtaking pictures. There was a little corner in Dubuque close to where they lived that had a rickety, run down, old house that many folks in the area believed was haunted.

As Augusta walked up to the rickety old house to wait for her companion the boy, her mind flashed back to earlier today in the afternoon when the group (a group of the most popular girls at her school) challenged her to the dare. The dare was to arrive at the haunted house once they had collected anything they needed and then sleep there, overnight, going home in the morning. Just as she was starting to think that Toby had chickened out, he walked up with a sleeping bag hung over his shoulder and his trademark hair that could never be kept down. They walked up the creaky, old stairs making sure that the stairs were sturdy enough to hold their weight and through the double doors, officially being the first human beings to walk through the doors in at least a decade. Both kids let out a relieved sigh when nothing out of the ordinary awaited them: maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, they thought. As they pulled out and sat on their sleeping bags and got ready to have some dinner, they both looked at each other expectantly. Finally Augusta spoke up, “Didn’t you bring some food?”

“No I thought you said you would bring the food and I was supposed to bring the water!” replied Toby.

“No I was supposed to bring the water and you were supposed to bring the food, remember after school when I said bring something yummy and I will bring the food?”

“Well maybe if you didn’t always talk so softly I would have heard that, and plus, did you hear what you just said!? You said that… you said that you were going to bring the food!”

“I don’t talk softly, I think it’s because you need hearing aids!”

Toby let out a gasp of surprise and said “You know what? I don’t even need you – I will find somewhere else to sleep, someplace that’s far from your big mouth.”

“I never needed you either. I just came to save your face, but if you think you are so mighty, then fine, leave, just don’t come to find me when you pee in your pants.”

Toby, true to his words, packed up his sleeping bag and walked out of the room into what he realized was a bedroom. Perfect, now I have a bed to sleep on instead of the ground: Take that, Augusta, he thought. What he didn’t know was that the girl had also left the room and had come upon the master bedroom with its king bed that was covered with a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. Take that, she thought.

Thick, colossal clumps of dust flew up as Augusta’s sleeping bag hit the bed with a thump. I never knew this amount of dust was even possible – maybe I should open a window and then sleep on the floor instead, she thought. Guess the bed isn’t really an advantage. She tried to get comfy in the sleeping bag, but it was impossible to achieve, for the ground was rock hard and her sleeping bag was way too thin. As Augusta realized it couldn’t be helped, she decided she would just have to try and fall asleep, but she soon realized that wasn’t going to happen either. She had an aching desire to be back in her hometown of Kalamazoo, playing with her friends and getting an ice cream sundae at her favorite place “Mr Frosty’s”. Instead I’m stuck here with a scaredy pants, sleeping on the floor of an old “haunted” house, she thought. Just then a big grumble came and went in her stomach. GRR she thought, if only that boy Toby had brought something to eat. Her attempts at falling asleep were getting nowhere. Ugg, this is so uncomfortable, I should just get up for a walk, it’s not like this house is actually haunted, just some crazy people in the area that are superstitious.

A loud thump arose the dust, as Toby plopped into his thick sleeping bag, getting ready for bed, or what he could do to try to get ready for bed that is, since he had forgotten to pack a toothbrush. Ohh well, it’s not like I’m going to die if I don’t brush my teeth for one night, besides I don’t even know if this big, old, rickety house has a working sink anyways, he thought. Sticking his feet in as far as they would go in his sleeping bag, he cursed himself for not remembering to bring his dad’s old sleeping bag, since he had long outgrown his. Along with his discomfort from the top part of his back contacting the freezing ground, his stomach was rumbling. That girl thinks she’s so smart, blaming things on other people, even though she was the one that forgot to bring the food in the first place, he thought. Now thanks to her I’m going to have to wait till morning to have some food. Five minutes of laying in his sleeping bag and his bladder had already gone cuckoo. Great, now I have to find the bathroom in this big, old house, he thought.

As Augusta went walking down the hallway she heard footsteps clomping her way. What is that? She started wondering if maybe the folks had some truth in what they were saying about this house. She stopped walking and flattened herself against the wall past the corridor, as much as she possibly could. The footsteps came closer, and closer, well… Augusta started sweating. What do ghosts do when they see a girl in a house they think they own? She decided there was only one way she would try to scare the ghost as it walked past her. The footsteps were right next to her now: It is time, I can’t chicken out now: “BOO!!” she shouted, realizing too late that it wasn’t actually a ghost but… .

Toby was walking down the hallway Augusta had just been walking when a dark shadow that looked like a person in a bathrobe jumped out at him yelling an ear piercing BOO! as if just jumping out of nowhere wasn’t enough he thought. As his heartbeat slowly stopped beating twice as fast as usual he realized that this shadow was actually Augusta and she had come from a corridor on the right not from thin air.

“What did you do that for?” yelled Toby.

“I didn’t mean to,” replied Augusta, her voice shaking a little, “I thought you were a ghost.”

“Ah-ha, so you believed that this house really was haunted huh?” snickered Toby.

“I did not, well I didn’t until you came clomping down the hallway, then I thought you were a ghost!”

“Fine, I won’t argue with you now but don’t expect me to drop the subject at school on Monday.”

“What were you doing out here anyways?” asked Augusta.

“I was looking for a bathroom, what were you doing out here?”

“My sleeping bag was too thin and I couldn’t fall asleep so I decided to go for a walk.”

“Well, I’m going to look for a bathroom, want to tag along?” asked Toby.

“I guess, I have nothing better to do.”

“So when did you even come to Dubuque? I’ve never seen you here until the start of the school year.”

“Yeah, I just moved here over the summer from Michigan, because my dad got a new job here. I was hoping to fit in with the kids and not stand out, but that didn’t happen as you can see – instead they sent me on a dare saying, ‘All the new kids have to go spend a night at the haunted house’. What about you? How come… you got sent here on a dare, too?”

“Well I always seemed to stand out in a bad way. Guess they thought I was geeky, so they sent me on a dare with you, probably thinking that I’d do something ridiculous like wetting my pants. Then they would get something to laugh about. Speaking of wetting my pants, when are we going to find a bathroom? I might really wet my pants now. And I’m not kidding!”

“Well, hold it in, otherwise I might just leave you here to find your way and I’m not kidding either. I don’t need a boy with wet undies to deal with,” replied Augusta, without a single drop of sarcasm in her voice.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Anyways I think I see something that looks like a bathroom up ahead.”

“Good, because I was serious with what I said earlier and stop hopping like a bunny already, you just said there seems to be a bathroom up front!”

Augusta peered into the room and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She called out to Toby, who in her opinion was a scaredy-cat. “It’s a bathroom, and calm down – there are no ghosts in there, just do your business and come out. We have to go a long way to get back to our sleeping bags.”

“I’m trying but I have to go slow, otherwise I might really pee in my pants.”

“Okay just don’t pee in your pants, unless you want me to leave you here.” Augusta thought about sitting against the windowsill but then checked the dust. Ewwww.

“Umm, we might have a problem here,” said Toby. “The toilet doe… doesn… doesn’t flush.”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter just get your butt out of there so we can start our very long journey baaack!” yelled Augusta through the closed door.

“Okay and stop exaggerating! It’s not that long of a walk back!”

“I’m not exaggerating, but that doesn’t matter right now, just hurry up. What is taking you so long? Are you a sloth?”

“Hey, don’t insult sloths, they are a very cool species,” replied Toby.

“I’m not insulting sloths, though I might if you keep doing things at this speed,” grumbled Augusta.

“Okay, here I am. Happy now?” asked Toby back to his regular voice.

“Yes.” Augusta sighed.

“Do you have any idea how to fall asleep with a very grumbling stomach?”

“Do you think I do? I mean the reason I went looking for a bathroom with you was thanks to my empty stomach.”

“Gee, calm down. I didn’t mean anything offense by that, just asking you if you have any ideas because I’m pretty sure that it’s not going to be easy for us to fall asleep with an empty stomach.”

“Well, the best way to fall asleep on an empty stomach is to get up and get some food, but thanks to you we don’t have that option.”

“Okay, let’s not get into blaming each other again and instead focus on the task at hand: how to fall asleep with an empty stomach.”

“Fine, but don’t think I will forgive you anytime soon for forgetting to bring food.”

“I know. But wait -.” replied Toby.

“Well have you got any ideas?” asked Augusta.

“All I can think of is trying to distract yourself. Like counting sheep and then trying to fall asleep.”

“And you think that’s going to work?” asked Augusta on the verge of launching into a giggling fit.

“No, but you asked me to give an idea, so I gave one.”

“Fine, then let me specify my question a little more. DO YOU HAVE ANY GOOD IDEAS THAT MIGHT ACTUALLY WORK?”

“Okay, okay, and no I don’t have any good ideas that might actually work. Do you?”

“Don’t try to deflect attention,” grumbled Augusta.

“I’m not, just seeing if you have any good ideas since I don’t at the moment.”

“Well then think of something in the next TWO minutes, starting NOW!”

Toby could practically hear the clock ticking in his ears as he pushed himself to think of something that could work. Then something suddenly popped up in his mind and he thought, I’m saved, I actually have something to suggest to Augusta. I never thought that would happen, instead I was preparing myself for doom.

“Well time’s up! Got anything to say?” asked Augusta.

“Actually, I do. It might not be that good but it’s something.”

“Well, what is it? We’re not going to be here for the whole day. Hurry up!”

“I read in a book somewhere that if you meditate on an empty stomach, before going to bed, that you would fall asleep and forget about the hunger.”

“Fine, that’s a decent idea, but do you know how to meditate?” asked Augusta.

“No, not really.”

“Well that’s not going to work. Have any other ideas?”

“No. Do you?” asked Toby.

“Well, I guess if you’re tired then you will automatically fall asleep, no matter how hungry you are. I mean that’s how the Jewish survived those labor camps,” said Augusta, with a little tremble in her voice.

“That’s true, but are we tired enough?” asked Toby.

“Who knows, maybe, we could try.”

“I guess.”

“Well, we got that out of the way. What did you tell your parents before you left?” asked Augusta.

“I just told them that I was going to a friend’s sleepover and they believed it. In fact, they were really happy that I finally got friends because I never had any before. What about you?”

“Before we start talking about me, I have a few questions for you. What if your parents call the family that you are supposedly staying at and find out you’re not there?” asked Augusta.

“I didn’t tell my parents their name or number, all I said was that I am going to Ben’s house who was a new friend of mine.”

“Yeah, but they could find Ben’s parents name and address in the school directory?”

“Oh yeah,” replied, Toby not so confident anymore. “What did you tell your parents?”

“Wait, wait, wait I’m not done asking you questions yet. What if Ben’s parents found out? What would you do then? Since they’re bound to find out sooner or later.”

“I don’t know, we’ll get to that bridge when we… ummm. Get to it?”

“First of all you better correct your sentence, I will not be helping you CROSS that bridge when it’s time to and second of all, stop acting like this doesn’t matter ‘cause I can see through that layer of horrid acting skills.”

“Okay, now are we done talking about me and can we start talking about you?”

“N.O. NO!”

“Why don’t you want to talk about yourself? Why don’t you tell about your alibi?” asked Toby.

“Don’t you dare start bossing me around!” shouted Augusta.

“Why not? All you’ve been doing was bossing me around besides all I did was ask you a simple question and you suddenly got very fired up.”

“I haven’t been bossing you around but fine – maybe I did get a little, I repeat, a little, fired up. I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“But why?” asked Toby not realizing that she was quoting herself when she should have given him the credit.

“Can’t you stop being nosy already?”

“I’m not being nosy, all I am doing is asking a little question.”

“Well fine, you want to know the answer – here it is. All my parents care about is my younger sister Rose and… HEY – don’t get the impression that she’s all nice because of her name: she’s not. Anyways, as I was saying, Toby, because my younger sister gets all the attention she decided to start whining every day whenever my parents were there, that she missed Kalamazoo so much and she really wanted to go back and visit but really all she wanted was a jumbo-sized ice cream sundae from Mr. Frosty’s. After a few days of whining my parents gave in (no surprise there, they always give in) and they decided that my mom would take her on the second weekend of the school year which happens to be today, and that my dad would stay here.”

“But what did you tell your dad?” asked Toby.

“Nothing, he always works into Saturday morning, totally forgetting about his child and only realizing when he gets breakfast that I’m not there … then he rushes home to find me and apologize a million times, begging for me to not tell my mom.”

“Do you ever tell your mom?”

“Once. Not anymore. She wouldn’t do much anyways. She would basically ban my dad from taking care of me for a while, but then her faith in my dad would grow, until finally letting him take care of me on one condition, making him promise not to do it again.”

“How do you know that’s what your mom would do?”

“Because I was stupid enough to tell my mom the first time it happened.”

“Oh. How long ago was that?”

“When we were still living in Kalamazoo. I was around 9 when he first did it. My mom and Rose were going to this cool hotel with a waterslide with some other girls and while my mom left me with my dad… and you know the great thing that’s gonna happen next.”

“Wait, why did your mom leave you and take your sister?”

“Because, it was a playdate-like thing, where one of her friends, in her grade invited her and only her, so she got to go and not me.”

“So, let me guess, he forgot about you and worked into Saturday morning then ran back home begging for you not to tell your mom. Right?”

“Yep – ”.

CREEEAAK! A sigh followed by a loud, low groaning sound seem to come from somewhere above them. Both sets of eyes moved towards the noise. Their bodies froze, making it seem like someone had flicked the switch from ON to OFF, while time seemed to come to a stop as their eyes swiveled around, finally finding each other. It was eerily quiet, so quiet that you could hear some little mice scurrying around behind the worn-down furniture in the shadowy darkness. Then suddenly time seemed to start moving again as Augusta and Toby came back to their senses. It was clear though, that they were still in shock, for even though their brains were working their mouths still seems paralyzed. Any person that came in would have assumed they were statues instead of living human beings. And quite funny statues they were, with Augusta in her nightgown and bathrobe, and Toby in a nightshirt and bathrobe. Then another noise came, this one softer than the last – it was like a frustrated sigh, coming from a different person. This time though, only Augusta seemed to hear this frustrated sigh.

“What was THAT!?”

“Do you think I know?”

“Well, what do you think we should do? Should we investigate?”

“Sure, I guess.” Both kids cautiously, and carefully, took a small step forward afraid of what might await them. When nothing out of the ordinary happened their beating hearts slowed down just a little, and they began to move a little faster.

When it was clear that they didn’t seem to be getting anywhere, anytime soon, they decided to split, thinking that this way they would cover more ground in less time.

Augusta was walking towards the right side of the house, while Toby was walking towards the left side of the house when suddenly…

“OUCH!”

Toby turned towards her, but she wasn’t there. Where has she disappeared to!? Ah!

She was sprawled on the ground. Augusta seemed to be lying on the hardwood floor holding her foot in pain.

Toby quickly ran over and knelt down beside her, and at first it seemed like there wasn’t anything on the outside, like cuts or bruises, but then, when he looked a little closer to inspect her foot again he realized that that wasn’t true. There was a small rusty nail stuck in her foot. That explained why she was holding her foot in pain and groaning, with tight lips, looking like she was trying hard not to cry. Toby, who was trying to figure out what to do (for he had never had any medical training) was frozen in place, many thoughts swirling through his head all at once. Finally, after a lot of consideration and a lot more groaning, he decided that he would just pull the nail out and wrap it in his spare PJ that he had brought. But before he could do that, he would have to get the wheels in his brain running and figure out a way to get Augusta back to his room, so he could take care of her wound.

“Do you think you can get up?”

“I’ll try.” And with a grunt and a hand from Toby she managed to get back on her feet, though it was clear she couldn’t walk normally.

“Actually, you can sit down – I have a better idea. Why don’t you crawl all the way?”

“In this cob-weby, dusty, old house? Are you kidding me?”

“Well, do you have any better ideas? If you don’t want to crawl you can hop all the way back.”

“I’ll hop.”

“That’s fine with me.”

And so off they went, with Toby walking ahead, with Augusta holding on his shoulder, grumbling every two seconds and muttering a string of curse words under her breath along the way (she sure did know a lot of curse words). It seemed like they were getting nowhere and finally Augusta gave in to her pride, and dropped to the ground, nightgown and all, and began crawling like a dog.

Now they were moving along a lot faster and soon arrived at Toby’s room. Toby sat down on the ground and cautiously touched the rusty nail and gently started tugging at it, afraid that Augusta would give another one of her ear piercing OUCHes. Luckily, Toby did not have to end up with that fate, though he definitely experienced some groans and curses along the way, and also a share of “what’s wrong with you” and “can’t you be gentler?” But all in all, his on-demand doctoring went fairly well. After giving her foot a temporary bandage they decided to set out from the house earlier than planned. Toby asked the question both of them were thinking (though Augusta didn’t want to lose more of her pride and so kept quiet).

“Do you think we should leave now?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Then why don’t you go to your room and collect your stuff and we can meet in the lobby.”

“The lobby?” questioned Augusta.

Toby’s cheeks suddenly seemed to turn red.

“Yeah, I decided to call the room we came into, “the lobby”.” He put his fingers in rabbit-ear air quotes.

Clearly he was unsure what Augusta might think. But he was in for a surprise as Augusta just replied with a very simple “Oh.”

Maybe it was because Augusta was finally worn out and in need of rest or maybe she had finally realized that she shouldn’t keep yelling at Toby. Whatever the case, Augusta left Toby’s room, crawling, to go and collect her things in her room.

A few minutes later, Augusta crawled into “the lobby”, and then rolled over onto her sleeping bag on the ground (as if she were a three-year-old waiting for her mommy). Toby came in a few seconds later to the arrival of annoyed shouting.

“What took you so long? Are you back to being a sloth? I’m talking to you, are you listening, other than being a sloth, or are you also an Armadillo? (They have very bad hearing)?”

“Sorry, but now that we’re both here why don’t we head out?”

Toby seemed unperturbed, and added, “Yeah, sure, we can head out. Make sure you don’t forget anything at this place, as you don’t want to have to come back to get something later”.

They exited the haunted house, one walking slowly, with the other holding his shoulder. The path led to the beautiful, glimmering Mississippi River reflecting the moon, for the moon was full, and no clouds were blocking the beautiful white shine.

“The fork in the road up front is where I head home, do you want to just split there, since you’re still at your sleepover with Ben?”

“Sure, I guess.”

Toby set down his too-short-for-him sleeping bag under a big maple tree to wait for morning to come along. But before Augusta left, they each said goodbye to the other. And in typical Augusta manner she decided to say “Bye Toby, also known as a scaredy cat.”

But by now Toby was expecting such a manner and replied simply with a “Bye Augusta”, for he decided he would choose which battles were worth fighting for. Augusta left Toby setting up his green camouflage, too-short-for-him sleeping bag on the yellowy grass that soon would be dead, and started her crawling journey up the hills to go back home.

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