Monthly- Archives: March 2020

March 28, 2020

JASON YANG

Spoiler Alert – if you have not read “An African Story” do not read the below.

Roald Dahl was not only an author but also a pilot for the Royal Air Force. His short story, “An African Story”, is profound. Dahl writes this story as if it is a manuscript that he found, as if it was not written by him. Though the story has all the trademark Dahlian wit and pacing, it is presented as having been written by a different pilot, who died three weeks after he wrote it. Additionally, it is narrated in third-person omniscient, which lends the story further proof of Dahl’s own authorship. The story is about a man named Judson who was mentally unstable and had misophonia, which is the hatred of certain sounds. In the story, we are shown a series of events that eventually end with Judson’s death.

After Judson is killed by the black mamba, the Old Man says “You can have his share… We don’t mind you having his share” to the snake. The reader can infer that he was grateful to the snake for ending Judson’s life as, if he continued to live, Judson would only lose more of his sanity and pose an even larger threat to the Old Man. The Old Man felt that the cow’s milk was a small price to pay for Judson’s removal and showed his gratitude by allowing the mamba to drink the milk.

As the snake drank the cow’s milk, one can interpret that the Old Man sees its appetite as a replacement for Judson’s, for even if the snake could not be told what to do, it still is able to defend itself, and, as the cow doesn’t seem to mind, that was enough for the Old Man. However, it can also be said that the Old Man simply saw a necessity to remove Judson. Judson killed the Old Man’s dog without a legitimate reason other than it was making a repetitive sound, making comments on not only the cow’s sounds but the Old Man’s sucking of his tea as well which could foreshadow Judson attempting to kill him. The Old Man set up a trap, therefore, leading to Judson’s death.

Another reason could be the Old Man simply feared for his own life and decided the “slobbering madman” needed to go, as it was evidently shown he was not in the right state of mind and would eventually take even wilder actions.

The Old Man’s story teaches the moral of, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” by portraying Judson as an imminent threat towards his safety and that of his animals. Though the black mamba was dangerous, for “when one is bitten by a Black Mamba, and almost at once the poison began to work,” the Old Man treated the snake with gratitude and said; “Yes… We don’t mind your having his share” and allowed it to drink the cow’s milk.

March 22, 2020

HENRY YUAN

Bernice, Marty, and Laverne’s Trip to NYC

My name is Bernice Krebs, and this is my trip to New York City. It was Friday and we were almost off work for a few days. “Hey girls! We worked so hard this year, let’s go somewhere!” I said.

“Ooh let’s go to a big city! Where do you want to go?” Marty said.

“I don’t care as long as there are hot guys where we go,” Laverne said.

“You’re so desperate, Laverne.” I sighed, shaking my head.

“How about New York City? I heard that the shows there are really good. We can watch one too,” Marty said.

“Any objections? No? Then it’s settled. We are going to New York City!!!” I yelled. Everyone in the office turned and looked at me. I went back to work with the thought of NYC, a constant thought, in the back of my head.

That night, we three got onto a plane to NYC. We were all super excited, well, maybe not Laverne.

She has been on many planes before, but for Marty and I, it was our first time! We three dressed up all nice, we walked up the very fancy staircase into the plane and every part of the experience except the actual flying was exquisite. The pilot himself with the rest of the flying crew welcomed us into the plane. All of the stewardesses’ uniforms were extremely neat and tidy. It was like they were just taken out of a toy box, and that pilot’s handsome face and sharp jawline almost killed me! Even though that pilot’s face was impeccable I’d say his flying skills need to be worked on.

It was a very bumpy ride to NYC. There was a lot of turbulence and the landing probably could have been smoother, but we were in New York City! “We made it alive!” I exclaimed after exiting the plane.

“That was fun! Can we do that again?” Laverne said.

“You’re crazy right? That was insane!” Marty added.

“It wasn’t that bad, but it definitely could have been better. That doesn’t matter anymore, it’s time to have fun!” I said. Really I didn’t know what to do. “I guess we start by finding somewhere to sleep.”

“Ooh I know, we should go to a bar and get some drinks!” Laverne said, completely ignoring what I said.

“Are you trying to find some hot men again?” Marty said.

“What? Of course not. We just had a horrible plane flight and I wanted to relax and have a few drinks with you two.”

“Didn’t you just say that the plane ride was fun and you wanted to do it again?”

“Don’t worry about all the nitty-gritty. Do you want to go or not?” Laverne said.

“We can go tomorrow, I’m sure all of us are tired and we don’t have a place to stay yet. We need to find that now.”

“Marty, fine, but promise, tomorrow?” Laverne asked.

“Promise,” Marty replied.

“Okay, now that you two are done, we can finally find a place to stay for at least the next day or two?” I asked.

Then we went on a hunt, some would say, to find a place to sleep. It took us about an hour and a half. Laverne kept getting distracted by anyone of the opposite gender. There was one time Laverne even left us and stalked someone. After we started walking again, we came across a convenience store. It wasn’t just any convenience store. Laverne stopped, then ran into the store.

“Peter Lorre! Is that really you?” Laverne nearly screamed.

“What? Oh yes. That’s me. You nearly scared the crap out of me.” Peter Lorre said, very surprised by the loud question.

“What are you doing here in this store?” Laverne instantly asked.

“Oh, just buying some newspapers,” he said, clearly not wanting to go into detail.

At this time Marty and I were just entering the store. “Come on, Laverne we still need to find a place to sle- ooh who is this?” Marty said very interested.

“Come on Marty, you too?” I took a long look at Peter Lorre’s face, forcing myself to remember how he looked. My goodness, he was the cutest man I have ever seen. “I’m very sorry Peter Lorre, about my friends… but we just arrived in New York City and we still haven’t found a place to stay.”

“Oh it’s okay, I get this all the time. Good luck finding a place to stay,” he said, glad to finally get rid of us. But the way he so coolly brushed off us barging in almost killed me. I was almost in love with him after we left.

After that incident, Laverne was still acting up and finally, Marty and I were so fed up, that we just took the nearest hotel that looked not half bad and stuck with it: the Edmont Hotel. It was really a crummy place. The outside of the hotel wasn’t too grand nor was the inside. The hotel itself wasn’t too big either, but apparently big enough for an entire nightclub. The lobby was like someone without much money trying to make it seem like they had money. There were paintings almost everywhere. There were also cabinets with fruit in a basket; the main theme of everything was gold, but not real gold, like painted gold. It seemed as if the owner really wanted to make everything look expensive but didn’t have the dough to do so. They gave us each our own room, but it felt empty. Also, you could look through the window and see what people were doing on the other side of the hotel. It was disturbing, no one bothered to pull the shades down, and everyone was doing all kinds of things. But if you take your mind off it and tried to sleep it wouldn’t be too hard… seeing how tired I was.

I had a terrible night’s sleep. The bed was as hard as a rock and the sheets were rough on my skin. I forgot to pull the blinds the night before and the sun woke me up super early. I didn’t know the time, I don’t wear the time, but I knew it was early. It took me quite a long time to get ready.

When I finally did get ready, I went to find my friends. I knocked on both of their rooms; it took them about… I don’t know, about 10 years of me banging on their doors. I was so annoyed, I didn’t get enough sleep, I was groggy, and I did not want to wait to see Marty and Laverne.

“What’s with the banging? It sounds like the goddamn police out here,” Marty said, yawning while opening the door. “Oh, it’s you. What do you want, so early in the morning?”

“I was woken by the sun and I can’t get back to sleep. I want to get out of this crumby place. Let’s go explore the city!” I said.

“Oh, this place isn’t too bad. Say, you first let me get back to sleep for a few hours and then we can explore whatever you want. Okay? Grand. Now please let me sleep. Bye-bye now,” Marty snapped, clearly agitated, already closing the door.

“Wait! When should I come to ge-” I tried to ask her, but the door was already closed shut. Lousy. I was sick of the nasty imitation gold of the entire hotel. Even in the room everything was gold. It really got boring. Fine, I’ll explore the city with Laverne, I thought.

“Hey, Laverne! Do you want to come with me?” I shouted at the closed door of her room. She didn’t answer. “I guess you don’t want to go!” I tried enticing her to come with me but to no avail. I don’t need them, I thought. I’ll just go by myself. They don’t know what they’re missing.

When I got outside, there was almost no one on the street. Wasn’t this supposed to be a big city with lots of people? The sun was already out. Shouldn’t there be people going to work? I asked myself. Then I realized it was Saturday. “Even though it is Saturday, there still should be many more people on the streets right?” I walked up to one of the only people on the street other than myself. There was one man in a thick winter jacket looking at something in his hand. I walked up to him.

“I’m sorry but do you have the time?” I asked.

“Sure… What is such a pretty girl doing this early out?” he said, taking out his pocket watch with his right hand. He quickly shoved a metal key chain with a picture of a girl in his left pocket.

“Umm, my friends and I wanted to see what’s so special about New York City,” I said somewhat surprised by the sudden question. “By the way, what were you just looking at?”

“Sorry?”

“The key chain you just put in your pocket, it looked like a girl.”

“Oh, that… She was my daughter, she loved traveling.”

“What happened to her?” I asked.

“She joined the Air Force when on her 18th birthday. She was a WASP: a member of the Women Air Force Service pilots. All she wanted was to serve her country.” He paused.

“Then what happened? Sorry I didn’t mean it in that way, I just want to know what happened.” I quickly said realizing what a jerk I probably sounded like.

“Oh, its ok. Well, she was shot down when bombing Germany.”

“Wow! That’s crazy. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I see you’re not from here,” he said changing the subject. “How about I show you a breakfast place with authentic New York City food. It might even improve what you think about New York. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is…”. I have since forgotten what his name was, but the place that he showed me was really fantastic. I would have loved to go there again. Right before he dropped me off at the restaurant, he said, “Have a nice, time here in New York City, oh also, the time is 6:45 am…”.

6:45!? No wonder Marty and Laverne didn’t want to come with me. I probably tried to wake them up at 6:00, seeing how long I talked with the very generous man whose name I’ve forgotten. After breakfast, I walked back to the hotel. On the front of the hotel, there was an advertisement for the bar in the hotel. “Come to the Lavender Room tonight! The popular nightclub for celebrities!”

Now we don’t have to find a bar for Laverne anymore, I thought to myself. After I went back up to my room, I just lay in my bed. I don’t know how long I rested but suddenly Marty started banging on my door.

After she got Laverne and me out of our rooms (it took us almost an hour to get Laverne up and ready) we went to explore the city. Then the next part of the day went by really quickly, I don’t remember most of it.

We went to Times Square and walked through about half of the city. We had plans to go through the entire city, not realizing how big it was. After we did what we could though, we began taking our time. We got back to the hotel at 11 PM. I would have just gone to sleep but Laverne insisted on going to a bar, or nightclub. We ended up going downstairs to the Lavender Room.

I had told Marty and Laverne about the advertisement I saw in the morning. They both got super excited when I told them. They’d been so into their new handbags that they didn’t even look up when they entered the hotel. When the server finally came I ordered a bourbon and water – Marty and Laverne ordered Tom Collinses. There was a band, but they weren’t really good. Nothing really happened until this very tall teen (I think) walked in, eyeing everyone in the club, and eventually sat down at a table next to ours. I guess we passed inspection.

When the server went to him, he wanted some alcohol but didn’t have anything to prove his age, and he got mad at the server and tried to use his gray hair to prove his age but the server wasn’t having any of it. He kept eyeing us; it was kind of weird but cute in a way. It was kind of like a toddler trying to walk for the first time. Whenever he eyed us, us three would start giggling. Eventually, this teen asked me to dance.

“Would any of you girls care to dance?” When he said that, I knew he was directly talking to me. Here’s the thing, this is one of those times where when you want something out of someone but they’re in a group of people so you say it to all of them, but you really only look at the person you’re interested in.

When I was dancing with him, that was the first time really getting close and seeing who that kid was. He was very tall and smelled strongly of cigarettes. I know smoking is normal but I really just hate it. It made me mad and sad thinking how this teen turned out to become an alcoholic and a smoker at such a young age. He looked clean and messy at the same time – it looked like he had just had no sleep and tidied up just for this. It was kind of fun, except he kept trying to talk to me while dancing but I kept ignoring him. He once mentioned “Marco and Miranda” but I didn’t know who they were, so I just brushed it off. He was a pretty good dancer but it still felt strange.

After some time of him trying to start a conversation, I remembered the night before and how we met Peter Lorre and how I thought he was really cute.

“I and my girlfriends saw Peter Lorre last night. The movie actor. In person. He was buyin’ a newspaper. He’s cute”. He seemed to roll his eyes for a second, but I couldn’t be sure.

“You’re lucky. You’re really lucky. You know that?” Then suddenly this kid kisses me on the forehead.

“Hey! What’s the idea?”

“Nothing. No idea. You can really dance. I have a kid sister that’s only in the goddamn fourth grade. You’re about as good as she is, and she can dance better than anybody living or dead”.

He kept trying to start a conversation with me but I was busy looking to see if Peter Lorre would enter the nightclub because of the advertisement and all. He used a lot of anti-Christ language that I hated, that’s one of my pet peeves, especially if it’s a child. We did some jitterbug and we sat down.

Turns out his name was Jim Steele. We didn’t invite him to sit but he did anyway. I didn’t care enough to kick him out. We three were always on the lookout for famous people but didn’t really see anyone. Jim kept bugging us about where we worked and all. He even asked if Marty and Laverne were sisters – that really got them going. Then he danced with both Marty and Laverne. When Jim was dancing with Marty, he must have told Marty something that was crazy, as she completely stopped dancing, trying to look over people’s heads to find something. She ran over and told us that she saw Gary Cooper in this nightclub!

“You will not believe who I just saw.”

“Who?!” Laverne and I said in unison.

“Gary Cooper!”

“What? Where?” Laverne said, looking around my shoulder.

“I think he already left. I only saw a glimpse,” Marty said.

“Really? I wish I could have seen him,” I said, kind of depressed. I was just waiting for a movie star or someone famous to come in. I guess the advertisement was right.

Jim bought us three two drinks apiece and ordered two Cokes himself. Laverne gave Jim a hard time about only drinking Cokes, but I guess he was used to it. Marty was being herself, making a bunch of jokes, none of them very good, but I didn’t pay enough attention to care. Laverne also was being herself, asking if Jim’s dad had any dates countless times. She was really trying to make him scram, trying to humiliate him about the Cokes and all.

Jim continued to bug me about anything and everything. It really got annoying until we three decided to go. We said we were going to watch a Radio City show the next day and it was getting late so we got up, and made one of the lamest excuses to get out of there.

“We need to get up early tomorrow and see the first show at Radio City Music Hall,” I said.

“Come on, just stay for a little longer?” Jim wheedled.

“No, we really need to get to bed,” Marty said.

He said he would sometime look us up in Seattle, Washington, but I really hope he doesn’t. I never felt so uncomfortable in my life. At least he didn’t say anything about us not paying for the drinks.

And like that, after watching the show, we got on a plane back to Seattle, Washington. This plane was better than the first. I guess the message of the story is: if a rich teenage boy tries to seduce you in New York City, or anywhere really, just make him pay for the drinks in the end.

March 20, 2020

ANNA QIN

Though I’ve only read about 100 pages in A Long Way from Home, I have noticed that Claude McKay thinks very deeply about what others say to him, but doesn’t always take their words into action. McKay is a like this when both Frank Harris and Max Eastman want his set of poems, and Harris specifically wants to publish a fiery poem called “If We Must Die”. He gave a set to Max Eastman who accepted them all, including “If We Must Die”. Frank Harris asks him why he would give that poem to The Liberator instead of Pearson’s magazine, as he had wanted it! McKay really wanted “If We Must Die” to be published in Pearson’s, too, but it was maybe too late.

“I figured that if Max Eastman overlooked [“If We Must Die”s’] absence I could conscientiously give it to Frank Harris.” He thinks about it but Eastman demands it back (sending him a telegram) for his paper. In another case, McKay was asked by George Bernard Shaw why he had become a poet instead of a boxer. Shaw, the great playwright and essayist, thought that boxing would suit him better. I’m glad that McKay decided not to listen to Shaw and become a boxer because people like me would not have gotten to read his poems.

My favorite poem by him is December, 1919:

Last night I heard your voice, mother,
The words you sang to me
When I, a little boy,
Knelt down against your knee.

And tears gushed from my heart, mother,
And passed beyond its wall,
But though the fountain reached my throat
The drops refused to fall.

‘Tis ten years since you died, mother,
Just ten dark years of pain,
And oh, I only wish that I
Could weep just once again.

This poem really stands out to me because as in a lot of his other poems, he seems very emotional and it makes me think of him as the guy who likes to cry. For example, in the poem The Tropics of New York, his last sentence is, “I turned aside and bowed my head and wept.” In this poem, he is able to cry. However, in December, 1919, I imagine how sad it is for a parent to die and would think it would be the opposite of what McKay did. Instead of not being able to cry, I would not stop crying. With McKay, perhaps, it was either be strong, or live the rest of his life crying. On the other hand, his relationship might have been so strong with his mother that he could not bring himself to accept that she was really gone. McKay knew she was gone, but he wouldn’t allow himself to cry over it because he perhaps had felt that if he did weep… well I don’t know. In the beginning, he talks about how he felt very comfortable with his mother, especially when she sang to him. His strong bond and relationship with his mother continues. Not face to face but heart to heart because he knows that she is still with him. Is this part of what makes McKay such a conscientious and relatable poet?

March 6, 2020

OLIVIA XU

RISE OF THE WEAK WOLFIE

I’ve been a weirdo since birth. Skinny legs, almost no hair, and a body so small I can pass as a Labrador retriever. I am an alien. My mom, desperate to make something strong about me, named me Ripper. As if that would help at all. Everyone called me “Rip”. The Arctic wolf pack, a powerful one, teased me for my whole childhood. But, I guess I’m still lucky. It’s hard to survive in an Arctic wolf pack.

My mom, Myna, shielded my near-bald body from the cold. She hustled me under a tree, and I watched the snow blanket the ground. Shivering, I stuck my cold nose into my mom’s fur. Suddenly, Head Toper swaggered toward me.

“Rip! I bet you’re cold! Here, for your birthday, I caught this animal, and the skin was way too thick to eat, so I skinned the animal and here’s your warm blanket, li’l shrimp!” He grinned as he tossed me a skin. “Am I really a wolf, or am I a shrimp, mom?” I asked. My mother stroked my head. “You’re a wolf. What’s more, you’re Ripper.”

The skin was very useful that day. My dad, Wolv, was really thankful for this skin and he immediately went to thank Head Toper. He and Head Toper have been best friends for their whole life. Pearl, my twin sister, took me down to the frozen lake beneath the mountain, and she found this beautiful pearl rock, which she gave to me as her present. Dad’s present was a drawing. It was our whole family: Him, my mom, me, and Pearl. My mom’s present was simply everything that she did for me.

The next day, the whole pack went out to hunt. Head Toper made sure that I came along. Pearl and I played and skidded on the ice. Suddenly, a bang rocked the mountainside. It was the hunter. We ran, but a bullet rocketed through the air and struck my sister. My mom and I were in front of everyone, so far in front I couldn’t see the eyeballs of the wolves at the back, but we immediately turned around and started rushing toward Pearl, who was rolling down the steep mountain. Dad had been running near her, and he chased her down. I gained on them surprisingly fast. Pearl was nearing the cliff. “WOLV! Come back, there’s nothing you can do!” Head Toper yelled. Dad ignored him, and just before Pearl fell off the edge, he jumped on her, his paws scrabbling on the ground as he tried to get a hold of something. Pearl’s momentum took them both off the cliff, and they plummeted down, down.

“NO!” I screamed, swerving to a stop right before the edge. Then I heard two faint sickening crunches and I knew it was over.

I headed up. My mom and Head Toper rushed toward me. My mom was at a loss for words, shocked into silence. Head Toper crouched down to my eye level. “Rip,” he said quietly. “Come sleep.” I went to bed, tears streaming.

Morning came, and I woke up early and started to experiment with sticks. It was a dry day. I got soaking sticks, damp sticks, and dry sticks. I rubbed wet with wet, damp with damp, and dry with dry, wanting to see which stick’s bark would come off first. I rubbed the dry sticks together, but as soon as I started rubbing more fiercely, a spark leapt off, and a fire grew. The wind pushed the fire to Head Toper’s place. Suddenly, he jumped out, yowling, a crazed look in his eyes as his face caught on fire. All wolves dashed out, and started crying out, “Put your face in the snow!” “Stop, drop, and roll!” “AAAAAHHHHH!” Luckily, Head Toper managed to put out the fire. When he looked up, his face was a mangled, distorted mess. “Who,” he growled. “WHO made that fire!” He caught sight of the sticks and immediately deduced what had happened. “WHO WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO RUB STICKS TOGETHER?!”

I was the main suspect. “Ripper!” he yelled. “Why would you do that?” I opened my mouth to answer, but he put up a paw. “Never mind. It’s not worth listening to anyway.” He turned and walked away, the whole pack, all following behind him, except my mom. The two most awful days of my life were there, in a row.

∞∞∞

One day, they went out to hunt. I was starving, so I decided to come.

“Follow me!” Head Toper yelled to our pack. Then he caught sight of me and snorted. “Go away, Baby-Rippy. You’re not allowed to hunt. You don’t fit in!” I peered around at the other giant wolves. I saw the muscles rippling under their skin, and I knew Head Toper was right. I backed away to our domain and slowly draped my skin over my weak and microscopic body.

A couple hours later, the pack came back, grumpy looking, with some gross-looking birds. They were terrible. There was barely any meat on them, and the parts that had meat were very stringy.

Without warning, Head Toper materialized next to me. “What expression is on your face, skinny? Disgust? You think the meat I caught is gross?” I shook my head. Head Toper growled. “You’re defying me! I see right through you, tiny! I have more rights than you! Do you want to have your remaining fur pulled out?” I shook my head quickly again. “That’s it!” Head Toper screeched. “You’re out of the pack!” He yanked me up by the tail and flung me down the mountain. I rolled into trees, tree stumps, and tree roots. Finally, I stopped by the frozen river. I didn’t even have my skin. I settled down and closed my eyes miserably. Those wolves’ muscles were helping them a lot. How many things can blue eyes do? I settled down for bed. I lay there silently, and slept.

∞∞∞

BOOM! A rock bounced off my head. I glanced up dizzily. Rockwell, one of Head Toper’s lieutenants, had chucked a small rock at my head. Head Toper’s second lieutenant, Caslon, was picking up a rock also. Head Toper appeared out of the shadows just as Caslon threw the rock. The rock flew into my shoulder and I went head over heels. Head Toper laughed. “Regret denying me, cub?” I struggled up and sped away. “Just because you’re speedy, doesn’t mean you can escape me!” Head Toper’s voice was far away. Me? Speedy? I looked around, but the world was just a blur of color. I arrived at a shady spot and curled up. It was nearly morning, but I could sleep a little.

Now it was morning, and someone was calling my name. “Ripper! Ripper!” It was my mom. “I’m here!” I yelled, and my mom came barreling through the trees. “What happened?” she asked. I told her about the night. “Ah, that Head Toper.” I shrugged. “Let’s go back.” I said, and we trudged up the mountain. When Head Toper saw me, he took a few breaths, closed his eyes, and forced a smile. “Welcome back, Ripper.” He looked like he wanted to say scaredy-cat, but held back. Mom led me back to our space. My skin! I dove on it and wrapped myself up. My eyelids were betraying my eyes, and I fell asleep.

When I awoke, the pack had gone hunting. I decided to take a walk like always, so I could be alone with my thoughts. I walked down the mountain, going toward the frozen river. I crossed under the thorn tree, but this time, a pain shot through my legs and I collapsed on the ground. I moved my leg and howled. A colossal thorn was stuck in my paw. I thrashed around, grunting painfully. Through my squinted eyes, I saw a bundle of white, nearly camouflaged with the snow. It was a bunny. He froze when he crossed me. Then in a flash, he was off, hopping for his life. But suddenly, he hesitated. Carefully, he tiptoed toward me. Eventually, he arrived at my leg. It took some thought, but finally I stuck out my leg trustingly to the bunny. He opened his mouth and gently pulled out the thorn. My vision slowly cleared, and I saw the young bunny clearly, burying a bloody thorn into the snow. My hunger was overwhelming, but I knew this bunny just probably saved my life. The bunny stared at me, ready to make a dash for his life any moment. I took a deep breath. “Let’s take a walk, okay? And I’ll introduce myself, and you can introduce yourself.”

His name was Benny, and he lived with his mother, father and two sisters. He paled when I told him I was in Head Toper’s pack. “H-he k-k-killed-d my b-brother f-f-for f-fun,” Benny stuttered. “Oh, he hates me. I’m weak anyway,” I assured him, sticking out my skinny legs. I looked at the sky. “It’s around time the pack’s getting back. I should go,” I said. “Same time tomorrow?” He nodded, and hopped away.

I rushed up the mountain just before the pack got back. Head Toper wasn’t swaggering now. “Our pack—” he faltered. Mom glared at him. “Fine.” He sighed. “I missed the hare when I dove.” Mom seemed satisfied. That night, we didn’t have food. We all went to bed with empty stomachs.

Day after day, I went to visit Benny. We had tons of fun, talking, racing, building snowmen, having snowball fights. One day, Benny decided that I earned his trust. He led me to a forest, and between two trees, there was a hole, just big enough for a bunny. “This is my home,” Benny said excitedly. “My mother, father, and two brothers and one sister are down there right now. We feast tremendously down there because we have so much food.” Benny and I chatted for a while. After a little bit, I yawned, tilting my head back to the sky. When I saw it, I yelped and almost had a panic attack. I was late! I raced to our domain. Head Toper was waiting for me, with Rockwell and Caslon behind him. “Where have you been?” he demanded. “Nowhere,” I stammered. “Nowhere?”

He walked past me, but as he did he jammed his shoulder into my head. I fell on the icy ground. Rockwell and Caslon followed Head Toper, careful to step on my paws as they went. Whimpering, I rolled behind a tree and hid my snout and eyes between my paws. Head Toper looked around, and the smuggest grin crossed his face. I followed his line of sight and panic squeezed my heart. Footprints! I had forgotten to cover my footprints.

Head Toper howled loudly, and the pack immediately came running. Damascus, my uncle, said gruffly, “Yes, Head?” Smirking, Head Toper nodded to my footprints. “Ripper’s made a discovery. Is that right, Ripper?” He smiled. Then I felt something like stubbornness, something I’d never felt before. “No, Head Toper. And it is not for you. It is private, and none of your beeswax.” Head Toper’s face twisted in disgust and embarrassment. Trying to ignore me, he said, “Small party: Me, Rockwell, Caslon, Ripper, and Myna to rein Rip in.” We followed Head Toper down the mountain. Worry was seizing me like Head Toper’s grasp. Finally, the forest was in sight.

Benny was ten yards away from the hole, and his face crumbled when he saw the group. “Get him!” Head Toper roared. Rockwell and Caslon dove after Benny, and Head Toper joined too. Benny yelped and fled. When Benny zoomed past me, he looked up at my face and his meaning was clear: How could you? Tears filled my eyes and streamed down my face. Mom glanced at me, unmoving. I wanted to help Benny, I really did. I just wasn’t strong enough. Head Toper snapped at Benny, missing him by inches. I shouted out, anger seizing me, and barreled into the chase.

I spread my limbs out, blocking the three heartless wolves. “Run, Benny!” I screamed. Head Toper tried to walk past me, but I moved in front of him. Suddenly, Caslon knocked me over, and they all ran towards Benny, whose head was in the hole, but his behind still in plain sight. Head Toper streaked towards him, and bit him hard, on the tail.

Benny shrieked. “Darn, I honestly should not have eaten so much.” A wave roared in my ears, even louder than when Head Toper snapped at Benny. It felt as though a red hot poker was being dragged across my heart. I lunged forward, and bit Head Toper as hard as I could on his side. With a grunt, he let go of Benny. Benny wriggled away. Head Toper turned to me, his eyes gleaming with malice. “So,” he whispered. “It has come down to this.”

I stood tall, and looked twice as big as I normally looked. “You have betrayed the pack.” Head Toper hissed. “No, you have.” I said calmly. Head Toper said, “May I ask, how?” I took a breath. “You were obviously going to eat Benny all by yourself. A Head shouldn’t do that.” Rockwell and Caslon turned to him resentfully. Head Toper paced, foaming at the mouth. Benny chose that time to pop out of his hole, cheer, “Go Rip go!” and go down again. My mom proudly stood next to me, and Head Toper angrily opened his mouth to say something. Without warning, a gunshot sounded. It was unmistakably the hunter.

Mom and I fled to one side, Head Toper and his lieutenants fled to the other. When I looked over my shoulder, Head Toper was looking back too. His yellow eyes were red and looked lit with fire. “This isn’t over, Ripper.” He called over the gunshots. “This isn’t over.”

∞∞∞

As soon as I felt that it was safe to come out, I led my mom to Benny’s home. We met his mom, Penny, his dad, Denny, his sister, Jenny, his brother, Lenny, and his other brother, Kenny. Then all of a sudden, Mom turned to me and asked, concerned, “Rip, are you cold?” “No, why?” I said, confused. “Well, you don’t have your skin…” My mom’s voice faded. I looked down and realized I had left my skin back at our home. “I’m filled with warmth because of the love here, I guess.” I said, smiling broadly. But then the smile dissipated. “Mom and and I have to leave soon.” I told Benny. Then I turned to Mom. “We’re going back to the pack.”

After ten minutes, we arrived at our home. I spotted Head Toper immediately, his sharp features, scarred face, and cruel, angry eyes. At the sight of me, his face twisted. “Scram.” He snarled. “You horrible head,” I barked. “And you could do better?” Head Toper leaned toward me, his scars prominent in the moonlight. I wondered if maybe the fire I caused had burned him inside more than his face. “Yes.” I said. “Let’s ask the pack.” He said quietly. We turned toward the wolves.

One wolf, Andale, stepped up and said, “Head, you were great before. You were one of our most awesome Heads ever. Then, your face got…” He searched for a word. “Mangled. Wrecked.” “Destroyed?” I supplied. “Yes.” Andale said, nodding at me. “And, you started treating Rip horribly, but the whole pack too. Maybe you’re a little broken.” The other wolves murmured in assent. Head Toper looked shocked. He looked at me, wounded, and I saw him like the old Head Toper I knew. Then the doors behind his eyes closed again, and they turned as cold as icebergs. He hurried down to the cliff where Dad and Pearl fell off. “This is for you, Wolv.” He whispered in a hoarse voice. “I’ll meet up with you soon.” And he looked up at our pack one last time, then turned and jumped off the cliff.

March 6, 2020

JONAH HUR

Claude McKay has changed a lot so far in A Long Way From Home. I have read around 100 pages of it and have noticed that Claude isn’t the same person that traveled from Jamaica. He is now more curious than ever to learn about the rest of the world, like the US, London, and Europe. He is finally starting to expand his writing beyond poems, with writing reviews of plays and publishing his second book of poems, Spring in New Hampshire. He is excited about the US, and on page 6 it says, “My mind was full of the rendezvous with that editor in New York. And as I couldn’t talk to any of the fellows about it, it was better to find elsewhere excitement that would keep me from thinking too much.” Claude is curious and seeks adventure whenever he can.

His interest about the world translates to his writing of poems and books, but despite his time in the US he never forgets his Jamaican roots:

“So much I have forgotten in ten years, /So much in ten brief years! I have forgot /What time the purple apples come to juice, /And what month brings the shy forget-me-not. /I have forgot the special, startling season /Of the pimento’s flowering and fruiting; /What time of year the ground doves brown the fields /And fill the noonday with their curious fluting- /I have forgotten much, but still remember /The poinsettia’s red, blood-red in warm December.”

This is Claude remembering Jamaica and shows why he is a poet. Claude is not just curious and brilliant, but he is also kind, and we see that despite the racism that is evident in the US he is able to be kind to those who don’t treat him well. Relating to Inaya’s post below, in the question of friendship testing the law, when McKay is alone at a restaurant a pickpocket comes by and tells McKay that the police are chasing him. McKay now has to make a decision on whether to help this man who is a criminal, or ignore. The logical part in McKay’s brain tells him to not run the risk of getting in trouble with the police for helping a criminal, but the other part in McKay’s brain is curious to see a relationship he could have with him. McKay’s curiosity gets the best of him and he gives the pickpocket his hat to hide him from the police. “Would you weigh the chances of getting caught…” This is from Inaya’s controlling idea, and it is a fair question. This is exactly the same scenario McKay is in. McKay weighs his options of choosing the law or a possible relationship, and he chooses a relationship. Like Inaya says in her controlling idea, “I think you would be surprised what you would be tempted to do.”

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