The Thunder Storm

The Thunder Storm

By Billy Bob Joe

One day Mom, Dad, Slimmy and Kimmy were sitting on the couch watching sports games.  

When Kimmy was feeling hungry she said “ Hey Mom, I’m feeling hungry so I’m going to grab a snack really quick.”

 “ Okay, honey but be quick though.” Mom said. So Kimmy checked the pantry and it was very empty. Kimmy wanted some Takis and a Bubbler or two.

So she asked her mom and she said “Yes, in 5 minutes, let me finish watching this tennis match and then we can go.” 

“Okay.” said Kimmy. 

While the tennis match was finishing it started to sprinkle and then it progressively got harder. When the tennis match ended Kimmy came back and said, “ Mom can we go now?”

“Yes honey, we can go  .” said Mom

So they went outside and it was pouring down hard “ Let’s wait out the rain first and then we can go ok Kimmy?” said Mom

“ Ok “ said Kimmy 

So Mom and Kimmy sat down on the couch again and then Mom, Dad, Slimmy and Kimmy turned on the news channel and it said that there were going to be thunderstorms and possible tornadoes. Everyone got an emergency alert and it said TORNADO WATCH.

So after the alert everyone got up from the couch and started grabbing their emergency bags. They put them downstairs in their Bulkhead doors( Tornado shelter). Just in case there was a tornado they would be prepared. So then they went back inside. A couple minutes later Slimmy says, “ Mom it looks really dark outside.”

“ Yes it does look very, very, very dark outside.” said Mom

 After a couple of minutes Kimmy says, “ Mom, when can we go to the gas station?” 

“ I don’t know Kimmy.” said Mom

A few minutes after that everyone gets an emergency alert

 TORNADO WARNING EVERYONE TAKE COVER IMMEDIATELY.

 So Mom, Dad, Slimmy and Kimmy went to grab a blanket and went to their Bulkhead doors( Tornado shelter). Soon after they all went to the Bulkhead doors( tornado shelter) Dad heard the town’s sirens go off and he knew it was now very serious because he knew the town sirens only went  off when a big tornado was coming straight for the town.

 “Are we going to die Dad?” said Slimmy 

“ No, of course not honey,” said Dad.

There was a very big thunder and it shook the Bulkhead doors( tornado shelter) and Kimmy started crying because she was scared and then they all got an Emergency alert saying EF5 TORNADO COMING STRAIGHT FOR FLORALVILL EVERYONE EVACUATE! So dad went outside and he saw a tornado forming and he knew that it was too late to evacuate.

“ EVERYONE GET IN THE CORNER NOW!” he said.

Everyone got in the corner and then even more sirens started going off so they knew something bad was coming. Dad turned on his phone and checked the news. 

“ IF YOU LIVE IN ANY OF THE FOLLOWING AREAS BE PREPARED FOR WHATS COMING AND WE PRAY FOR YOU.” “ FLORAVILL, HOPEVILLE, DELICAVILL AND BLUEELA.” said the news 

So Mom was getting very worried and she thought that the house might be going down but she wasn’t sure so she didn’t say anything. 

Kimmy was crying but then she remembered that she still hadn’t gotten her Takis and Bubbler so she said “ MOM WHEN CAN I GET MY TAKIS AND BUBBLER I’M GETTING MAD!”

“ WERE GETTING A TORNADO COMING STRAIGHT FOR THE TOWN! BE QUIET AND SIT DOWN NOW!”

So Mom was very angry at this point and Kimmy was getting more and more upset and there was a big “BOOM!” Dad had to go outside and check what was going on so he looked out really quick because he knew it wasn’t safe but when he looked outside the power line was on FIRE! Dad got really worried but it was pouring down and the fire was across the bridge.

Mom saw the horrified look on Dads face and pulled him over “ What did you see i know that look on your face,” said Mom

“ There’s a fire outside.” said Dad,

“ WHAT!” said Mom loudly ,

“SHHH.”  said Dad ,

“ What’s going on Dad?” said Slimmy,

“ Nothing.” said Dad.

There started to be a lot more thunder and the tornado went through the whole town destroying every house in its way including  Robert’s house, Slimmy and Kimmy’s neighbor’s house.

So after the tornado was done Kimmy remembered about the gas station. “ Hey Mom, could we possibly go to the gas station?” said Kimmy 

“ Yes let’s go now.” said Mom 

So they went to the gas station and it was destroyed so they went home, picked up Slimmy and Dad and went to a family’s house and watched a football game and the rest of sports games that day.

Cheesy Problems

Cheesy Problems

                     By: Cheryl Dean the 3rd

Do you cheese roll? Well hi, I’m Derek, and I’m a cheese roller. On July 15th which is tomorrow I will be going to the Summer Olympics for their first year of cheese rolling. I have been cheese rolling since I was 8. I am now 19 and I live in Albert Lea, Minnesota. I am currently staying at the 2034 Olympian Hotel in Paris. I will be going tomorrow at 7:30 am to get prepared to race at 4:30. My judge (Jill) will then weigh me, measure me, and much more. I’m going to bed at 7:30 to be prepared for the race tomorrow. It is now 7:02 and I’m going to brush my teeth, shower, and go to bed. Goodnight.

The next morning I’m going to training with my instructor (Jackson), and my coach (Owen). I’m at my warm ups but Owen is not here. Even worse, neither is Jackson. I’m starting to worry. (13 minutes go by). I know they stayed in the same hotel room. Maybe I’ll try calling them. Ring ring ring. Owen didn’t answer so I’ll try calling Jackson and if he doesn’t answer we have a problem.

I go to the front desk to talk to them. I found out their room number 304 and I got a room key since I came with them. 

Swoosh 

I go up the elevator to the 3rd floor. I found their room and I opened the door. I walk in to find them still asleep. I wake them up. 

“What are you doing in here Derek” 

I’m waking you up for training? 

“You didn’t get the email?” 

Huh?

 “It’s rescheduled for tomorrow Judge Meredith is sick”

 Ok. 

I leave. 

I guess I will check my emails for more info. Wait, I don’t have an email? Maybe it just didn’t go through. I’m going to try to email her to get more info. Oh! She emailed me back and said that she was confused. I asked her what she was confused about. 

 “I’m confused because we’re still having the race today and I’m not sick,” she said.

I go down the elevator. 

Swoosh. 

I go to room 304, use the room key, and walk in. No one is in there. So I go down to the front desk and ask them if they know anything about them or have seen them. They say

 “yeah they checked out about 30 minutes ago”. 

I am now confused because we were supposed to warm up, and they lied to me about today and told me it was tomorrow. Were they trying to make me miss it? I look out the window at the parking lot. The van was gone. I’m stuck here. No vehicle. 

I start getting hungry. I end up calling an uber. I go to Mcdonalds and there is a fight. I don’t think too much of it. Until I realize it’s my instructor fighting the chef and worker yelling “GIVE ME MY FRIES, MILKSHAKE, AND DR. PEPPER!” 

I leave.

After that I try to get an uber but it will be 35 minutes until I can. So I decided to go on a walk in Paris since I’ve never been here before. The eiffel tower was only a few blocks away. I’m sweating. I’m thirsty. I’m nervous. I don’t think I’m ready. Since my coach and instructor left, it’s just me. I decided to run a few blocks to the eiffel tower. And for extra preparation run to the hotel.

I am dripping sweat. I got ready for the race, including showering again. It is a 3:28 race that starts in one hour. I arrived at 3:34 and now they are weighing me, measuring me, and everything else. They’re are a lot of people. I’m anxious. I’m excited. I have a good feeling about this race. Even though my coach isn’t here to support me I will prove to him I’m fine without him and I’m better than ever.

“Alrighty ladies and gentlemen welcome our first contestant for cheese rolling!” 

They are about to introduce me!

 “6 ‘2’, 154 pound, male Derek Shepard!”

 Omg that’s me! 

Being announced at the olympics has always been my dream! And I am here to chase it. I am also here to chase that rolling cheese!

“And the race starts on 20, 19, 18”

 Oh my gosh I better have stretched well. 

“17, 16, 15, 14” 

It’s getting to me but nothing is stopping me.

 “5, 4” 

It’s the last few seconds! I got this and I’m more ready than ever. 

“ 3, 2, 1, GO!” 

I am running faster than ever.

 “And Derek Shpeard took the lead in 1st place!”

Ok i’m doing good. I’m almost there. I finished! Did I just win? We’re about to find out! Fingers crossed!

“Ok everybody we have our first place championship winner! Great job to…Derek Shepherd!”

Omg I just won 1st place at the olympics! I can’t believe this! Wait, are my coach and instructor in the audience? Why are they here? Well it’s kinda a good thing because I was able to prove I’m better off without them and maybe it’s a good thing they never showed up to practice. I just cannot believe they tried to convince me my big day was cancelled. I dont know whats going on with them but I don’t care because I just won 1st place at the world wide olympics!

After today I finally did some research and I would like you to meet my new instructor Alex, and my new coach Mark. They have really shown me what it looks like when people are really trying to put in their effort and help show me and tell me how I can improve and accomplish my goals.

The Second Chance

The Second Chance 

By: Bumblebee Homie

“There Elsa goes down the rink in a zigzag motion, ready to score,” the broadcaster said on TV. “It’s only her against the goalie. She hits the puck and in the goal it goes. She scored!” 

My dream is to be on that rink with people watching me from all over the world. I am 14 and live in Churchill, Canada. By the end of this year I hope my dream will come true. 

This week is the big game that could change my life. If we win this game we will then play to be the top team in the country of Canada. The rest of the week I just have practice, but there is one more thing I like to do. I like to meditate. Everyday after practice I go home, sit on my swing, and think about what I want to happen every second of that game. Then I just breathe, getting prepared for the minute I step on that ice.

“Today at practice we will be scrimmaging against other people on our team,” said Coach Bree,“You guys need to hustle. You are as slow as snails.” 

“Coach is being tough on us today,” said my teammate.

“Yeah,” I responded,” but the big game is in two days.”

When I got home I didn’t even do my meditating, that was how tired I was. On top of the scrimmaging, coach Bree made us skate around the rink fifteen times before we could leave because she was saying we were too slow. I really don’t think it was a good idea because we will all be tired and sore before our big game. 

The next day at practice we only did a few warm up things before we meditated  as a whole team. Coach Bree let us out early and told us to all go home and get a lot of rest. I knew the whole team was nervous, the team we were playing was not only good, but physical. 

It was the day of the big game and I was feeling confident. When we got to the rink I could see that I might have been the only one that was confident. When we got on the rink and started warming up, someone from our team skated off the rink and threw up. It didn’t help anyone else on the team feel any better. 

There was one minute until the game started and Coach Bree was talking to us about strategy. 

“Ok everybody, we all know today is going to be tough, and we need to keep our heads in the game,” said Coach Bree,”All we have to do is think of strategy. Just remember your plays and it will be smooth rolling from there.” 

I was ready. All that needed to happen was my team doing their best and shake out any nerves they had. 

“WELCOME everybody to the 2024 Canada’s Best in the Country hockey game! Just a few reminders for everyone, we want to make sure everyone is safe and has good sportsmanship throughout the game,” said the announcer.

My team got on the rink and we all got in position. The ref threw the puck in the air. I played ball from there. 

One of my teammates got hold of the puck first. She went all the way to the goal and missed. Right away, Coach Bree called our first timeout. 

Coach Bree started screaming,“Teamwork, Teamwork, Teamwork, you guys. I don’t just want one of you going solo down the rink one on five. If we want to win we have to work together, ok.”

“Yes, Coach Bree,” said the team in unison.

We got back on the rink. No one liked that  Coach Bree yelled at us, but we didn’t want to let her down. 

I started with the puck, passed it to one of my teammates, they passed it to another one of my teams, and by then I was right next to the goal. My teammate passed it to me. SCORE! The crowd went wild. 

For the rest of the half, it went back and forth between my team and the other. The score was 5 to 6 with the other  team in the lead. 

At the start of the second half the other team started and missed. It was our turn. One of my teammates started and it went to a few other people before it came to me. I was losing my balance as someone was on my tail. It was like a lion chasing a zebra. I quickly passed it to my teammate near the goal and I really didn’t know what happened next. 

In the mix of it, I ran into the wall and the person behind me ran into me. As the other person was walking away she took my helmet with her as it was stuck on her jersey. She pulled me down and accidentally took my helmet off before I hit the ice. In that second I was unconscious. 

The next thing I remembered was being in the hospital bed listening to Dr. Hiemberry and my mother talking. 

“Elsa has a severe concussion and possible brain bleed,” said Dr. Heimberry. ”We will have to go into surgery within the next few hours if that is alright with you.”

“That’s fine Dr. Heimberry, I will do anything to help my daughter,” my mom responded. 

Later that day I went into surgery so they could help prevent the brain bleed. The only thing I could do about the concussion was taking medications to help it heal. The worst part was I damaged my brain a little. It is the part of my brain that helps tell me how to move. There wasn’t much I could do besides work to build that memory of just simply walking. I was told walking shouldn’t be a problem, but getting back out on the ice is a different story. 

Dr. Heimberry helped me day by day recover and I had a few other surgeries for who knows what. I got up and walked around a few steps at a time with support from a walker. Each day a new family member would come visit me, and I really never felt alone. One month later, I was out of the hospital. 

When we got home for the first few days all I could do was lay down. My mom was way too worried about me and to be honest, I could have been out of the hospital a week or two before I was. The only thing holding me back was the thought of my mother. She told me I had to do 30 consecutive steps by myself before we could leave. Even Dr. Hiemberry told me I was free to go by the third week I was there. 

By the end of the week my mom told me I could watch the tape of the big game.

“Hey Elsa, Coach Bree just sent the footage of the game. Would you like to watch it,” asked my mom. 

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to watch it, but I knew I was going to see myself get hurt. I didn’t even really find out the result of that game. Did we win? Did they even finish the game? 

“Sure,” I said, questioning myself, ”I will watch the game. 

Right as I started watching the game, the doorbell rang. My mom told me I should get it, which surprised me since she really hasn’t let me walk for the last week. I paused the video and got up. I used my walker to get to the door knowing I was rusty. When I opened the door I saw my whole team stand there.

“We missed you!” they all said in unison. 

“Mind if we come to watch the game with you?” stated Coach Bree. 

“Yes, Yes, Yes,”I responded,”I would love it if you do.”

The rest of the afternoon we watched the game and hung out. There was one odd moment. It was near the part that I got hurt. While it happened we all grabbed hands and prayed like you do at the dinner table. Then it got even weirder.

“You know we will miss you on the ice,” said someone on my team.

“Yeah,” said everyone else at different times.

It was silent. Did anyone believe I could play hockey again? I did up until that moment. I started to realize that playing hockey again might not be possible for me. I didn’t want it to end that way. 

“Does no one believe I will be able to play hockey again?” I asked.

The room was once again silent.

Coach Bree finally responds,”We all wish you could play hockey again, but your mom told us your doctor said you would barely be able to run for a while let alone skate for the next few years. By then you will probably just give up on hockey.”

“I don’t want to give up on hockey, and I never will,” I said as I ran to my room as fast as I could, which was not really fast at all. 

I spent the rest of the night in my room. I really didn’t want to give up on hockey and I was determined to get back out on the ice. 

For the next three months I walked a little bit more everyday to the point where I was at a jogging pace. My mom was worried I would get hurt, but she believed me. She knew what I wanted to accomplish. 

Once I got up to a slow running pace which was another three months later, I started on the ice. I was basically back on day one. I went from using the walker for a month, to falling left and right, to acting like a really bad figure skater. It wasn’t until about a year after the accident that I got a hockey stick back in my hand. I knew if I wanted to reach this point it was going to take awhile, but it was starting to get hard. 

There were times that I just wanted to quit and times that I just wanted to be able to play hockey again. One week I just couldn’t do it anymore. I spend 80% of my time in my room and the rest in the kitchen or bathroom. Then I finally got my confidence up and got back on the ice once again. 

Once I was back to being a good skater I started my hockey journey. For weeks I practiced on my skills until I was an ok hockey player. I would have kept practicing for weeks, but I found out that they were having a rematch of the game I got hurt in. 

“I have been watching you on the ice lately and I think we can all agree that you are ready to play hockey again,” said Coach Bree. ”So we talked to the team that we played in the Best in the Country game. They agreed to a rematch. It won’t mean anything, but we want you to have your second chance.

“When is the game?” I asked. 

Coach Bree respondes,”It is this Friday, three years from the day it all happened.”

I spent hours preparing for that game. I knew I was never going to be as good as I was, but I was doing pretty good considering what happened. I went to practice with the rest of the team, and did my meditation when I got home. It was finally the day we had all been waiting for.

We got right into the game. I wasn’t starting, but Coach Bree just wanted me to get the way of the land or at least that’s what she said. I really just think my mom told her I couldn’t start. 

It was half way into the first half before I went in. It wasn’t hard for me to get right into the game. I was dominating. I passed it to my teammates left and right. Whenever I passed it to them they scored. It was like I was a good luck charm. By the beginning of the second half the score was 5-6. We were in the lead. 

I didn’t start the second half but I did seem like I needed a break. There were five minutes left in the second half, and the score was tied 7-7. I finally went in. 

It went back and forth between teams and there was thirty seconds left, score 9-9. One of my teammates passed it to me. Everyone was behind me. The only thing that was stopping me was the goalie. I went straight into the right, faked left hit in and … SCORE!!!!!! Right before the clock ran out. We won. 

After the game everyone came to celebrate at my house. 

“We are so proud of you Elsa,” said Coach Bree. ”You probably expected this, but we want you to join us for our around the world tournament. After we won the Best in the Country again, we want you to join us this time because you lost out on your chance.”

“Thank you guys!” I say really loudly,”I am so lucky to have you all.” 

We ended up getting second place in the world tournament and had a great time. By the end of the year I was 18. I ended up going to college at the University of Waterloo in Canada. By my second year I was assistant coach for the Waterloo Warriors men’s team. When I graduated I became a hockey coach for young girls that had or were having trouble getting back on their feet, just like I did.  

Five Olympic Rings: One Cross Country Team

Five Olympic Rings One Cross Country Team     

By: Tater Tot The Smart Goober

Sarah Konalie was a 5 ‘8 , sixteen year old girl who had deep blue eyes, curly brown hair and skin that stayed tan all year around. Sarah was a very talented cross country runner who was ranked number one in  her conference. Sarah Konalia was born in Boston Massachusetts, but at the age of four, she moved to a small town in Iowa. The same year Sarah moved she started running to help take off some of the stress of joining a new school and having to make new friends. Sarah went undefeated last cross country season even going on to win state.

 Just when Sarah thought her season was over she got a call from the Olympic Cross Country team head coach Bertha Johanson. 

“Sarah I am so glad I was able to get a hold of you, you accomplished great last season, and I am excited to inform you that a spot on our Olympic team has opened up, and I would like to personally invite you to come to the meet where we will choose who our next member will be,” said Bertha

 Sarah said, “Thank you so much for this opportunity! This is a dream come true, I can’t wait!”

Bertha Johanson sighed over the phone and then said, “Sarah, I am happy to know you are excited, but you will be going against people that are almost double your age, and have been training for this their whole life. Now that being said, you do have the best time out of all of these people, but you still need to train hard and keep improving.”

“I completely understand, and, if you don’t mind me asking, who has the next best time behind me?” Sarah said.

“That is a great question and it is actually someone that is your age, and you have gone against often this past season,” Bertha said. 

“Oh, do I know them personally?” Sarah asked.

“Umm yeah you actually know them very well. It is your teammate Karen Shoop.” Bertha said.

“Oh, Karen, as in the one that in our last meet I only beat by a couple seconds?” Sarah said in a worried tone.

Betha Johanson then said, “Yes, I thought it would be a great competition, and motivation to challenge the both of you. I was talking to your coach and she said the two of you really pushed each other during the season.”

Sarah was too stunned to speak but then got the words out, “Uhh yeah something like that.”

Coach Bertha then said, “This isn’t a problem for you is it?”

“No, not at all!” Sarah quickly said.

“All right, good, I look forward to seeing you two weeks from now on Saturday.” Bertha Johanson said.

“See you in two weeks,” said sarah. “Oh and thank you so much for this opportunity!”

After the phone call ended Sarah couldn’t help but worry about Karen being at the race. Although Sarah had always beaten Karen, recently Karen had been getting closer and closer to beating Sarah. Even to the point of Sarah only winning by two seconds at their last meet.

That was not the only problem Sarah had with Karen. Although they would always treat each other with respect, in the second grade, Sarah’s boyfriend at the time, Mike who she had been dating since kindergarten, was playing at recess with Karen, and did not come over by Sarah when she walked outside. This was something he did everyday, so when he did not it really hurt Sarah’s feelings. After that day Sarah and Mike broke up and shortly after he started dating Karen. 

Sarah knew she needed to start training immediately to improve her time, as well as give her body some time to heal. The race was only two weeks away which is not a lot of time for her to improve her time as well as give her body the amount of rest it will need to perform at it’s best of abilities. There was no way Sarah was going to let that boyfriend stealing witch get in the way of her making the Olympic team. 

Sarah decided to make a schedule for her training. On Mondays she would run four miles at her race pace, eat a good meal, and then do arms at the gym. On Tuesdays she would do five easy miles, and then go straight to the gym where she will do legs. On Wednesday Sarah would go for a walk, and then go to a yoga class. On Thursday Sarah was going to do integrals, sprint half a mile, walk a fourth a mile, sprint a mile, walk a half mile. Sarah would do that a total of three times. On Friday Sarah is going to go on a seven mile long run, then go to the pool to relax. On Saturday Sarah will go to the gym and do a full body workout followed by yoga afterwards. On Sunday Sarah will clean, and do stuff around the house, but no workout.

Now that Sarah had already created her schedule for training, she started right away wasting no time at all. It was Saturday so that meant Sarah needed to go to the gym and do a full body workout accompanied by some yoga after words.

Sarah got dressed in her workout clothes and headed out the door to the gym. When Sarah arrived she stretched, and proceeded to grab the 20 pound weights to start with arms. Sarah did 10 shoulder presses, rest, 10 bicep curls, rest, for a total of three rounds.  

After arms, Sarah did abs because as a runner it was super important for Sarah to have a strong core. Sarah did 10 crunches, 10 sit ups, rest for 30 seconds, one minute plank, rest for 30 seconds, 15 leg raises, and repeated three times.

All that was left for Sarah to do at the gym was legs. Sarah did 10 squats, 10 left leg split squats, 10 right leg split squats, and repeated it for three rounds.

After the gym Sarah was a little sore so she was excited to go to yoga and stretch. 

When Sarah arrived at yoga she grabbed one of the mats and started stretching before the teacher arrived. When the teacher walked into the dimly lit, lavender-scented yoga room they all started to stretch together. Throughout the yoga class they proceeded to stretch, and hold poses that helped work on flexibility. Sarah loved yoga because it helped her get longer strides, and made her body feel refreshed.

After yoga, Sarah went home and prepared a steak, with potatoes, and five cut up strawberries. While Sarah was going to sit down to eat, she got a call, a very unexpected call, from Karen. Sarah answered the phone with a sweet, welcoming tone, “Hi Karen it has been so long since I have talked to you! How have you been?”

“I am doing great, I actually wanted to call and tell you that I got a call from the Olympic head coach, Bertha Johanson saying that she wants me to go to the Olympic Cross Country team tryouts, and that I have a really good chance of making the team. There is only one person with better times than me. Can you believe it? This is a dream come true!” Karen said with an excited but also arrogant tone.

“Oh, that’s great Karen, I am so happy for you!” Sarah said with excitement, even though in her head she was annoyed with the fact that Karen had called her to brag about her accomplishment.

“Oh I am glad you feel that way because I was actually calling you to ask for your help. I was wondering if you know who the person that has a better time than me could be? Coach Bertha told me that they were my age but I was too scared to ask her who,” Karen said.

Sarah smiled over the phone, barely able to keep in her excitement about how Karen was going to react when Sarah told her that the person with better times is actually her. Sarah took a deep breath and then said, “I actually do know who you are talking about, and I know them very well.”

“Oh really, that’s great Sarah! I am so happy we are able to put our past behind us, and you are willing to help me out.” Karen said excitedly. 

“Yeah no problem at all, and you actually know them too. In fact you are speaking to them over the phone right now.” Sarah said smugly. 

Karen, after being too stunned to speak, finally managed to say, “Oh that is great, I am so happy for you.”

“Yeah I am happy for you too, well I have to let you go and get back to training, and I am sure you have to do the same. So see you in two weeks!” Sarah said

“See you in two weeks.” Karen said still in shock from finding out that Sarah was going to be at the Olympic tryouts too.

After the phone call with Karen, Sarah worked hard for the next two weeks of training. During the two weeks of training there was only one problem Sarah encountered. She kept replaying the race that Karen was so close to beating her over and over in her head. Sarah would replay this moment and then get in her head and not focus on her breathing and strides. 

This problem caused Sarah to only improve her time by five seconds, opposed to the ten seconds she was planning. Although five seconds is a really good improvement in cross country, the ten seconds would have given Sarah more reassurance to be able to beat Karen.

The day of the race quickly occurred. and it was time to see if all of Sarah’s hard work was going to pay off. Before the race started Sarah stretched and then went on a slow one mile run to get her body moving. After the run Sarah stretched again and took her box at the starting line where she did stride outs.

With only one minute till the race would start. Sarah walked to her box and got ready to start. Just as the starting guy was walking to the stand, he shot his fake pistol from to signal the take off of the runners, Sarah looked to her far right and saw Karen Shoop. 

This was not good. Sarah started thinking about the race that they were neck and neck, and could not help feeling that this time it was going to be different. Before Sarah could replay that moment in her head for a second time she got interrupted by the starting guy counting down. 

“On your marks! Get set Go!” The pistol went off and so did the runners. 

Sarah was off to a great start. She was feeling the wind in her face, and she had a great adrenaline rush. Sarah had a pretty decent gap in between her and the group of people behind her, but when she looked back to double check she noticed that there was a person getting closer to her. That person was Karen. 

This time instead of letting Karen get in her head Sarah embraced the freeing feeling she got when she ran and ignored Karen behind her.

Sarah had just finished mile one of the race and her time clocked in at five minutes to be exact. This was good, but for mile two Sarah has to pick up the pace a little and try for a four minutes and fifty five seconds mile.

Sarah focussed on her breathing and strides for mile two. When Sarah finished mile two she was still feeling good and was able to run that mile at a four minute and forty five second mile pace. At the two mile marker Sarah looked behind her to see Karen holding her pace and only a few feet behind.

Sarah knew that for mile three she would have to give it all that she had left. Sarah slowly started picking her pace up and widened the gap between her and Karen. Sarah was feeling good about herself and started to focus on the trail ahead. 

After a minute Sarah looked behind her to see that Karen had gotten really close, maybe five feet behind her. Sarah knew that with only three quarters of a mile to go she would have to widen the gap before the final stretch. Karen was a great sprinter so when it came down to the final stretch between the two, Karen would have been able to sprint right past Sarah to win. 

Sarah picked up her pace even more, and with only a half mile left Karen was still behind her so close that Sarah could hear her breathing.

That’s when Sarah decided to pick up the pace. Sarah started to practically sprint; she was bound and determined to beat Karen. Sarah practically sprinted for a fourth of a mile and that gave a huge gap between her and Karen, there was at least fifteen feet between the two of them. Since Sarah was practically sprinting, she used a lot of her energy, and now she had to hold a good steady fast pace while also leaving energy for when she sprinted at the end.

Sarah was able to see the finish line now. There was still a good ten feet gap between Sarah and Karen, but Sarah knew she had to pick up the pace because when Karen started sprinting that gap would shorten drastically. Sarah took off and now there was only fifteen feet between her and the finish line, but there was also only ten feet between Sarah and Karen.

Even though Sarah was in pain she sprinted as fast as she could and that’s when she heard people cheering. They were cheering for her. Sarah had done it! She had made the Olympic Cross Country team! A dream she had since she was just a little girl. Sarah had run the best race of her life. Her old personal record was 15:55, and she ran a 15:30! 

Sarah was happy she made the Olympic team and not only that, she was happy to have learned a new lesson that she has never forgotten, and used it for the rest of her running career and everyday in her life since. Sarah learned that no one can stop you from reaching your goals except for you, and your own mindset. Not even a boyfriend-snatching, evil, backstabbing, witch!

Brace Yourself

Brace Yourself

By: Anita Dump

5..4..3..2..1

ring ring

School’s out for the day. I head to my locker and grab my gym bag, then wait for my best friend Hailey. 

“Hey Emily, are you ready for practice? I heard we are doing a lot of running,” said Hailey, “are you sure your ankle is going to be ok?”

“Yeah,” I said, “It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.”

Right before basketball season, I sprained my ankle during PE doing relay races. It caused me to sit out the first two games, but now I am able to play just having to wear an ankle brace. 

We headed down to the locker room and start getting ready for practice when all the sudden we hear the Weller twins, yelling everyone’s ear off per usual. This time it was about one of them getting new shoes. It finally stops when the coach comes into the locker room and yells at us to hurry up, and of course Hailey and I are the last ones in the locker room.

“Hurry up,  Coach Rachel is going to yell at us for taking so long,” Hailey complained.

“Sorry my brace takes like a million years to put on.”

Finally we get into the gym to warm up, and  Coach gives us a firm look so I just hang my head.  She l calls us in and gives us a lecture about taking too long in the locker room and I can feel everyone’s eyes on me including Coach Rachel. Once she is done lecturing us she tells us what we are doing in practice today.

“Since you guys lost your last game we are going to do conditioning today”Coach Rachel said.

You could just hear the groans throughout all the girls, then the excuses started.

“But we have a game tomorrow, we will play worse because we are soar,” said one of the twins. 

“Well, maybe it will teach you guys not to slack off while playing,” said Coach Rachel, “and as a matter of fact every complaint or excuse I hear is one down and back.”

We started the conditioning and on the first drill with running I hurt my ankle and fell to the floor. 

“Emily, are you ok!” said Hailey in a worried tone.

Then the Coach came over.

“What hurts?” said Coach 

“My ankle,” I said  while trying to stay calm

After that Coach Rachel called my mom and I went home early. On the car ride home my mom told me I should probably sit out on our next game.

“No I can’t sit out, I have already missed two games this season, I can’t miss another one.” 

“I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for the morning. We will see what he says,”my mom said.

After we got back from the doctor, he said I was fine to play. I just had to be careful considering my ankle is weak. I got to school an hour late just in time for second period with Hailey.

“So can you play today?” Hailey said in a nervous voice.

“Yeah, the doctor said I just need to take it easy.”

The rest of the day went by slowly but when the final bell rang I was ready for our game. We got to the locker room and put our uniform on and shoes then I looked in my bag and realized, I forgot my brace! This causes me to get really nervous, so I started to overthink everything. After all this is the first game I am playing, and everyone has already played two. What if I am absolutely terrible and the coach doesn’t even play me, or worse she tries playing me and I make us lose. 

We got on the court and started to warm up and I didn’t miss a single shot which really boosted my confidence. Once warmup was over she sent the starters out on the court. I saw Hailey was starting like usual and it made me kind of sad I wasn’t out there with her this year. The game was going smoothly and half way through the first quarter I was in the game and right off the bat I made a shot and forgot all about that I am not wearing my brace and should take it easy. I decided to guard the biggest girl on the court, she was rough. She pushed me over which caused me to fall then stepped on my ankle.The pain was excruciating.

“Emily, are you ok!?” said the Coach.

I tried to respond but I couldn’t get a word out of my mouth. I saw my mom rush over. She picked me up and took me to the car and drove me to the hospital. At this point I am terrified because I am in urgent care. I am in extreme pain, I am brought to the hospital bed and a doctor comes to the room. 

“By the looks of it, I think that’s broken,” the doctor said, “but we will go ahead and take some x-rays.”

He was right, it is broken and I will be on crutches and have to wear a cast for three weeks. He also said I will probably be out for the whole season because I need to rest, which breaks my heart because this is the first year I can play school basketball. The doctor also mentioned that my injury might lead to later problems down the road and that my ankle might never fully recover.

The three dreaded weeks are finally over and I am going to go back to the doctor to see how I am healing and take off my cast. It has been miserable sitting around while I know all my friends are playing basketball, but Hailey has made sure to tell me everything that happens when I am not there to see it for myself.

“And then number 45 started to get mad and threw the ball at the ref just for calling a foul!” 

Though Hailey made sure I didn’t feel left out, part of me was still really sad. So that is why today is important. It could either be one of the best days of my life or one of the worst. We showed up at the doctor and got in to my appointment.

“Let’s take this cast off and see what we are dealing with.”

How could he say that so calmly this could determine my future.

“Well there is certainly still quite a bit of swelling.” Not what I wanted to hear. “But you should be fine to play basketball in a couple weeks.”

That was great news! I am so excited that I am able to play this season and trust me I will always remember to bring my brace, maybe even a backup.

Cheese Boy Champion

“Cheese Boy Champion”

By Purple Grape

Tom is the number one cheese roller in the state. He is a five-time Olympian champion and he is only 21 years old. “Tom started when he was 16 and is still going on to win the title of the 6th-time champion. The competition for qualifying for the Olympics is Saturday. He goes on a five-mile run but goes easy for the first 4, then goes hard on the last one to train. The competition starts at 7 am and at 5pm he goes on a 3-mile run at the local park. Then he goes to his local bagel bar and gets a very protein-loaded bagel to ensure he gets the protein for his competition. Then, the first whistle blows and he starts running and then he starts rolling and then all of a sudden he is in the hospital. 

Then the doctors tell him that he has hurt his neck and broken his leg so badly that he needs surgery on his leg. He goes into surgery a day after and it all comes out good. The day after that he just rests and thinks about the day and then realizes that they did not make him sign a consent to say that the damages are against him. Then the next day he calls his lawyer and they talk for a while

“Hi, how is your day going?” Tom Said

“Hi, What can I help you with?” Mr Williams Said

“I was wondering if you were busy next week, I was thinking about entering a case to the courthouse.” said, Tom

“I should be free, just tell me what time,” said Mr Williams.

“ Ok, thanks,” Said Tom

“ No problem”, said Mr. Williams

Tom sued the competition and is going into trial in three days, so he must get to business. He is now on trial and is pleading his case to try and win the case. Two hours later, he is done and has been rewarded $536,000. He was awarded this much because of the hospital bill and then was awarded an extra $500,000.

That year he was awarded this much money and is hoping to go to the Olympics next year. That next day he decided that he was going to run 5 miles every day to get ready to win the Olympics the next year because the Olympics were canceled due to weather conditions. These weather conditions ruined the track and took off the paint that was supposed to mark how far they ran or threw. He goes on a run on a cold Sunday morning and all of a sudden he runs into someone and apparently blacked out and then when he woke up he was in the hospital again. He ran into a tree and did not know where he was so they took him to the hospital.

His qualifying match is only a week away. Now instead of 5 miles, he is running 8 miles everyday to get into the body he wants to race in and the body he feels good in. Now the race is tomorrow and he is running 6 miles today.  He is very tired but is gonna pull through. He is done running and it is 9 am so he is going to a bagel shop to get a protein-filled bagel. He has plans to go out with some friends for lunch at 12. At lunch, he eats wings because he thinks he needs to get his carbs in for the day. Then he goes to bed early because he has to wake up early to make it to the competition. 

The next morning he wakes up at 5 and then goes on a 3-mile run at 5:30 am to prepare for the day ahead of him. He then goes to the bagel shop and gets the same thing he got the previous day. Next, he goes home, changes into his race clothes, and then starts driving to the competition because it starts at 9 and it is 6 and it is an hour and 30-minute drive to the competition. He is ready to go at the start line at 8:45 because he wants one of the front spots. Then the race is over he figures out that he and another person are tied for first.

He gets a call. He answers it, it is the person from the competition.

“Hi, this is Mrs Rodriguez.”

“Hi, this is Tom,”

“We are from the competition that you were in last weekend, we have some news for you,” said Mrs Rodriguez

“So what is this news?,” said Tom

“So you know how there was a tie for first place, Well after watching the tape, we saw that you crossed it first so you won the competition, and are going to the Olympics! ” Said Mrs Rodriguez

“Thank you so much for this great news!”  Said Tom

He goes to the Olympics and competes twice and he won both of the rounds. He is now on the podium and gets  the gold medal and is now a 6-time Olympic gold medalist. 

Making it Pro

Making it Pro

By Scarful

Hello there you should read my story. It’s about my life. I really recommend it.My name is Tanner Rock. I am a 15 year old male. My dreams are to make it pro in the NBA but I’m not very good at basketball. I recently moved to Nevada with my mom. My dad passed away when I was younger. And I wanted to make him proud and make my dream come true. But my mom is living in rough conditions. We moved so my mom could get a better job. 

On the first day of school I met a really nice kid. His name is Oliver. His dreams were also to make it pro in the NBA. But he was 10x better than me. And he said he could give me some pointers on my ball handling and shooting. After school he gave me his number to text him. I  went to his house later in the day to practice my basketball skills. We practiced for around

2 hours and his mom said,

 “Hey do you wanna stay over and have some dinner?”.

 After I ate I walked home. It wasn’t a very far walk to my house. When I arrived home I told my mom what I had done at Oliver’s house. She was really happy that I made a friend. At my old school I didn’t have that many friends. Oliver and I tried out for the high school team. We both made the team.

After my freshman year I didn’t start that much and I still wasn’t a shooter, I was more of a passer. I only scored around 30 points the whole season. But my sophomore year I scored a lot more points than I did the year before. I was averaging 19.3 points a game. My junior year I was on varsity so I didn’t play a whole bunch but I was still averaging 17.6 points a game. But my friend Oliver was doing very well; he was averaging 25.0 points a game. And in our senior year I was averaging 26.1 points a game. My last game there was a college scout and this was my chance to make a college team. I was playing really well; this game I had 23 points in the 3rd quarter and I finished out the game with 36 points. And the college scout came up to me and we were talking for a while. I made the Iowa Hawkeyes.

Oliver on the other hand he did make a college team, but he’s on the Iowa State Cyclones. We both did pretty well; our freshman year he averaged 22.4 points a game and I averaged 23.2 points a game. And through the rest of my college years I decided to go in the NBA draft.I didn’t get drafted till the 5th round. I got on the Houston Rockets.

And so did my friend Oliver. We finally got reunited. I got the starting center position at 6’8 and my friend Oliver got the starting point guard position. He’s only 6’3 but he can do everything he can drive down hill. He can shoot three pointers really well. And he’s the best at his mid range shots. We were 24 games into the season and we were doing good.

Then Oliver tore his ACL. He was out for the season and the thing that sucks is it was his rookie season. He was on pace to get rookie of the year. He was averaging 22.3 points a game more than any rookie this season. I’m only averaging 19.8 points but I was averaging 6.4 rebounds and 6.1 assists. The very next game after Oliver got injured he got my first triple double. I had 16 points, 11 rebounds and 10 assists. When we were getting to the end of the season. I actually got rookie of the year with averaging 23.1 points, 8.2 rebounds and 9.0 assists. 

The thing I was the best at was tip offs. I won almost all of my tip offs besides one and I only lost because I slipped when I jumped. After the season me and Oliver would train every day with our private trainer. When the next season arrived, me and Oliver both got 21 points in our first game of the season. 

Week 8 of the season we had to go against the boston celtics they were 7-0 and we were 5-2 not off to a bad start but we didn’t have the best start to the game we were down 10 points at the end of the first quader. The score was 29 to 19. I had 3 of those points with a lay up and 0ne made free throw but Olliver didn’t have any points so he was really discouraged but when we were on the bench I had to give him a little speech so he didn’t feel down on himself. 

After that when we went in halfway through the second i gave it to Oliver on the give and go and he got his first points. After that he got hyped up and got 10 points after and at halftime the score was 56-55 we were up by 1 point. During halftime our coach gave us a pep talk. I only had 7 points so I was kind of mad. But after half i got 14 points in 4 minutes. I had 21 points going into the 4th. We were up by 5 points with 2 minutes left in the game. Then they got a lay up and a three pointer with 20 seconds left and it was 120 to 120 and then they got a layup in 5 seconds so we had 15 seconds to either get a three pointer or a layup and we gave it to Oliver then he gave it to me in the post and i passed it to Oliver in the corner for a three and he MADE IT!!! To win the game. The only team to beat the Boston Celtics was us so far. 

  At the end of the last game of the regular season I had 45 points, the most I’ve ever scored. In the off season I was working out with Oliver and I was doing squats and I tore my quad. But luckily it was right after the season was over. So I had enough time to heal. It’s gonna take around a month for my quad to heal. After the offseason was over I was all healed up and ready for my 3rd season. On the first game of the season I jumped up for a rebound and got injured. After the game I went to the hospital and I found out from the doctor that I won’t be able to play for the rest of the season. And Oliver was having the best season of his career. 48 games into the season he was averaging 25.6 points a game. After the season they ended up 72-12 and won the championship. But gladly I got a ring. 

My 4th season on my first game I didn’t do any good. I was still a little hurt from the previous season. I had 0 points in my first game. And I didn’t get too many in the first 10 games. So the Houston Rockets decided to trade me. They traded me to the pistons. I wasn’t a starter for the Pistons and barely got any playing time. And when I got in the game I wasn’t doing anything. Then the Pistons traded me the next season. Then every team that traded for me would trade me a season later then my last shot to prove I’m still good. The last game of the season I was playing for the Lakers and I got injured again. I knew my career was most likely over. And I got cut a week later and no team wanted to pick me up so I had to retire early. And Oliver went on to win 5 more championship games and be known as the GOAT.  

MMS 7th Grade Short Stories

I am a teacher at a middle school and I have assigned my class a short story writing assignment. As a way of trying to inspire them, I told them that I would publish their stories on my website when they were finished with them. I knew I had a section on the site for Fan Fiction and I decided that I could easily post these stories under that section.

These stories will not be perfect. These are 7th grade students who do not have a lot of experience in writing stories. They have been introduced to the idea of a plot map and they are working toward using thas as a tool when they write. The story assignment was supposed to have some connection to a sport or a sporting event. I was following the end of unit assignment from the HMH curriculum that we use.

The assignment is due this Friday, January 18th so I will start posting the stories some time that day and perhaps over the weekend.

The students will all have a pseudonym on their stories just as a way to protect their identities. I know my community here is great, but the internet itself can be a negatove place and I want to protect these kids as much as possible.

There will be a variety of writing. I know some are really working well on this while others are wasting time. I am sure the product will show this as well. However, please be kind to the kids. Most of them are working fairly well on their stories.

Thanks to everyone who gives this a chance.

When Daisy was Hit by the Baseball

When Daisy was Hit by the Baseball

A Story of Dalton Hill

Nothing was ever the same after the day that Daisy got hit by the baseball.

I was there that fateful summer day, the sky blue, not a cloud seen anywhere.  A more beautiful June day could not be painted by artists or sung about by minstrels.  The Independent League baseball game was surprisingly well attended, considering the home team had not won a game in over three years.

It had become a tale of legend, how the Dalton Hill Pirates had started their ill-fated run of mediocrity that saw them lose an astronomical 268 games consecutively, a record of incompetence unmatched in the history of sports.  Even the Washington Generals knocked off the Harlem Globetrotters every once in a while.

That exciting day, three years prior, when the Dalton Hill Pirates had their last W, everything was looking up for the team.  They were a few games ahead of their rivals, the Springdale Aardvarks, in the league standings and they were just a few weeks away from taking the division crown and advancing to the one game playoff for the league championship.  This was a game that they would not see.

The Dalton Hill Pirates lost that lead in the standings and continued to lose game after game until the very mention of an Independent League baseball game drew ridicule and divisive comments.   

How did this streak of all streaks start? The popular theory among the pundits at the coffee shops was that the team had been cursed.  Without a better answer to the riddle, most people just accepted it as gospel.  They even had an unfortunate scapegoat.

Beatrice Hopper was the proprietor of a holistic nutrition store in Dalton Hill called The Cauldron, where she would sell all-natural and Vegan foods,  nutritional supplements and fresh herbs of all kinds.  However, it was speculated that Beatrice Hopper was much more than a simple store owner.  It was a scarcely hidden secret whispered among the citizens of Dalton Hill, albeit with a lack of any contributing evidence, that Beatrice Hopper practiced witchcraft.

So it came to a special promotional night at the ball field where they were celebrating Halloween.  Why they had scheduled a Halloween promotion during the summer months was a subject of great debate.  Fans were encouraged to come to the ballpark in their best costumes and cosplay outfits.  There were several Halloween themed activities being held between innings including best costume, the skeleton base run and bobbing for baseballs (apples colored to look like baseballs).  

Beatrice Hopper was a regular at the field.  She loved baseball and she knew plenty about the sport.  She had come in an angel outfit, but the promotional geniuses that were employed by the team had another idea.  They wanted a special guest host for the night and they approached Beatrice, a theater major in college, to fill that role.  She had played host many times over the years and was considered almost an honorary member of the team.

The problems started early that day.  No one from the office approached Beatrice about her costume because they just assumed what she would wear, considering the reputation that followed her and her shop.  The angel costume came out of left field.

Before the game started, members of the promotional crew came to see her and handed her one of the most generic witch costumes anyone had ever seen.  

“What is this supposed to be?” Beatrice said, immediately offended.

“What’s the big deal,” said Gerard Dragen, one of the upper management of the team and not the brightest bulb in the pack.  “You’re used to wearing this and it is not as if I want you to put a wart on your nose.”

If it were just Gerard’s well known ignorance, Beatrice might have been able to proceed without incident, but it was about this time that some of the players on the Dalton Hill Pirates jumped in. 

“Did you leave your broom at home?”

“Double, double toil and trouble…”

“Do you need a live chicken?”

 Their razzing was not intended as mean-spirited, but it was certainly tone deaf and ill-timed.  Beatrice felt piled upon and bullied so when the crowd started joining in, unaware that the words were hurtful to her, she made a decision.

Beatrice put on the witch costume and held the anger inside, being a total professional with the host gig that she had accepted.  Beatrice shoved the unintended insults down deep in her heart and did what she had to do to get through the evening.  With the game ending with a Dalton Hill Pirates victory, the final straw was when star player, right fielder Carlos ”Cheeseburger” Macin dumped a large jug of Gatorade over her head.  It was a typical, nightly celebration that the team would do after the win, and no one thought that she would take it poorly.  The team saw it as an honor.

For Beatrice, it was not.

After this victory, the last one they would have for a long time, Betarice went into the office of Gerard Dragen to unleash her anger with the perceived insults, letting her displeasure be known.

Although the meeting was held behind closed doors and no one besides Beatrice and Gerard were in attendance, several staff members reported afterwards about the fire, the vitriol that Beatrice delivered her remarks.  Word spread quickly that the local witch was unhappy at her treatment and how the day progressed. 

So the very next day, when things around the team began to unravel, everyone believed they knew what had happened.  Baseball players are a superstitious lot anyway and when Carlos Macin slipped on a puddle of spilled Gatorade in the locker room, tearing his MCL and ACL, putting him on the injured list for the better part of a year, panic threatened to spread throughout the team.  

This was the first of a series of unlucky events.  A buffalo the team had brought in for their weekend series with the team well above them in the division, the Buffalos, got loose and rampaged across the field, stampeding through the team’s batting cage, destroying everything beneath its ample weight.  The team’s boiler broke down, depriving the team of any hot water in the shower or the training room.  There was an unexpected infestation of silverfish in the home uniforms.

Worst of all, the team lost the game that night, starting off the plummeting of the team in the standings for that season.  Most of the community had a guess about why so much went wrong so quickly, but only a few brave souls found the courage to approach Beatrice, and even fewer brought up the subject.

The few times anyone would broach the subject with her, Beatrice would flatly deny any hand in the losing streak, only ever saying that ‘Karma was..’  Well, you know the saying.

Flash ahead three years and two hundred and sixty eight games, the Dalton Hill Pirates were wallowing in another year of utter chaos and wishing to reach the level where they could be considered mediocre. 

Daisy McMahon was the unluckiest lady in all of Dalton Hill.  It had become a running joke, and Daisy was the first to laugh about it.  If anyone had a right to be negative, it was Daisy because she was constantly having things go wrong, but she never reacted in that manner.  She would throw her head back and laugh out loud, joyously clapping her hands at every drawback.  It was inspirational.

Daisy was in attendance at Pirates Park for a game between the Dalton Hill Pirates and their local rivals the Springdale Aardvarks.  She loved coming to the ballpark early to watch the warm up.  Everything seemed to be going fine, when it happened.

Rookie shortstop Jamaal Jones was an incredible athlete.  He could hit to all fields with power and could run like the wind.  He was one of the best players to come to Dalton Hill since “Cheeseburger,” but there was one major drawback.

His arm was errotic.

There were times when he would deliver a perfect strike to first base on a ground ball, yet other times the ball would be picking off the mascot or scattering the players in the dugout.  

On this fateful day, the ball had a mind of its own.  

During ground ball practice before the game, Jones scooped up the grounder in a fluid motion and sent the ball soaring.  Unfortunately, the throw was nowhere near first base.  

It seemed as if it were an incoming missile and the entire audience in attendance gasped at the unintended target.

There was Daisy.

The ball struck Daisy in the left shoulder, knocking her backwards into a front row seat on the first base side of the stands.  With her legs extended and the ball slowly  rolling away from her, Daisy looked stunned.  By the time the security and the ushers got to where she was to check on her…

Daisy was laughing.

The laughter spread around the park, from fans to players and back.  Daisy was fine, maybe a little sore, but the laughter was catchy.  The cameras had caught the impromptu moment and rebroadcast it on the big screen for the whole crowd.  They replayed the video throughout the game, with a riotous response from the happy crowd.  

And something strange happened.  Everyone was so relaxed and the morale was so high that everything started going well.  The unforced physical and mental errors that had become a trademark of the Dalton Hill Pirates’ game were suddenly, magically, gone.  It was a night and day difference.

The 268 game losing streak came to an end, 4-1.

With the expectation that the team had finally turned the corner and that the long nightmare had thankfully come to a conclusion, the fans returned to Pirates Park the next day filled with a new hope and a breath of fresh air.

And the Pirates lost again.

And the next day.

And the next.

The fears that the victory was just a hiccup in the swirling sea of negativity embraced the players and the staff, causing some wild ideas to be discussed.  The video of Daisy being knocked over did not seem to inspire the troops any longer, but there was a bizarre idea that sprung from it.

“Let’s do it again,” said team manager Butch McGraw.

McGraw’s idea was simple.  He claimed that the bad luck that had engulfed his team over the last few years had been subdued by Daisy McMahon’s amazing reaction to being hit by the thrown ball.  So he thought that all they needed to do was reenact the event, with Jamaal Jones hitting her with a ball once again.

The plan was poo-pooed by many, claiming that it was the spontaneity of the moment that brought the magic and that any attempt to force the magic back would be artificial and contrived.  Yet, Daisy agreed to give it a try.

Problem was… Jamaal Jones had his issues trying to get the ball from shortstop to first base.  Can you picture how comical it was to see him trying to hit a woman in the front row of the stands instead.

What a sight you will never see.  Imagine, a baseball team warming up for a game, with their starting shortstop peppering the crowd with baseballs trying to hit a specific woman, who kept walking by, trying to make herself an easier target.

Daisy was like a duck in a shooting game at the carnival, with baseballs flying past her as she moved back and forth. It was so ridiculous, but, after several failed attempts to get hit by the ball, Daisy would make a DING sound as she turned around and went back.  She was laughing the whole time.

Eventually, other infielders and even the coaching staff joined Jamaal throwing baseballs into the stands.  Daisy was, quite literally, having a ball.  It got to the point where Daisy started to throw herself into the path of the ball, to help the players out.  

The new losing streak came to an end after this game and now there was a new activity for all home games.  Try to hit Daisy with a baseball!  They started pulling names from the fans to try between innings too.  It became one of the most popular features during the games.  Daisy was officially hired as a member of the Pirates’ staff.

The Dalton Hill Pirates played better.  They won some.  They lost some.  

They laughed a lot.

Stories of Dalton Hill

So I wrote a book several years ago called Dalton Hill.

It actually started as a short story that I wrote for a college creative writing class at the University of Iowa. I enjoyed that story so much I took it and expended it to a book length.

The book is set in a fictional city called Dalton Hill and it is one of those types of cities that have so many strange, magical, mystical things happening. It was originally inspired from the NBC TV series, Eerie, Indiana.

Part of the book included an examination of the character of Dalton Hill. There are a ton of fun stories in the town. I love this town.

So I am going to do some creative writing with the tales of Dalton Hill, the odd stories that takes place around the town with the oddball characters that populate the town.

These are the Stories of Dalton Hill.

I Remember…

I Remember…

Chapter One

How did we wind up here?

“Barricade that door!”

The butler and pilot slid the heaviest objects they could to barricade the door in a desperate ploy, praying that it would hold.  They both knew how truly hopeless the situation was, but they were not ready to give in to the despair that threatened to consume them.

My lord, please forgive my cursed soul for the sin that I will be forced to commit.  

“This is my fault,” the pilot fumed after doing what he could to brace the entrance.  

“Sir Blackhawk,” said the butler, brushing off his suit coat.  “That is utter nonsense. The plane was crashing. The only reason we are still alive is because of your skill as a pilot.”

“Alfred is correct, Blackhawk,” said Gabriel Van Helsing, peeking out the window.  He could see the fiery remains of the plane that the three of them had been in. The escape was not quite successful.   As the sun set on the horizon, Van Helsing saw the fog begin to form around the area. He knew what that meant.

“Is there any way to communicate with the outside world?” asked Alfred.

To the outside observer, Alfred Pennyworth appeared to be an English butler, but his facade hid more than that.  Skills that he kept hidden from the world for unknown reasons.  

“There is none, Alfred,” said Van Helsing.  “This may have to be where we make our last stand.”

“I don’t mean to be the wet blanket here, Van Helsing, but you do know where we are, right?” asked Blackhawk.  “This may not be the most ideal location for a final stand.”

The Alamo.  An iconic site.  A story that all three men remembered.

“The irony has not escaped me,” said Van Helsing, “but we do not have any other choice.”

The fog thickened with each passing second, surrounding the San Antonio landmark, a location known for the brave but doomed.  

“This is not the Mexican Army surrounding us,” said Alfred.

Few know that better than I.

Gabriel Van Helsing was a lonely man.  A man who was rarely in the company of allies.  His internal distress was constant, a hatred of what he had to become in order to continue to battle the monsters of the world.  His prayers, he believed, would fall upon deaf ears, but he continued to make them. Pray for his soul. Pray for his fate. Pray for the strength to do what was needed.  He choked down the contempt with each desperate prayer, no longer backed with faith. Then….
REMEMBER

“What did you say?” Van Helsing said, turning to his companions.

“What?  We didn’t say anything,” responded Blackhawk.  

Neither of them had said what he had heard.  Van Helsing glanced around the Alamo. Shaking his head, he peered out the window.  The fog was so thick that you could hardly see anything… the remaining light from the retreating sun nearly blotted from view.  Van Helsing’s blood ran cold.

“Be ready,” said Van Helsing.  “It’s almost time.”

 

Chapter Two

Fog.  Thick.  Nearly immobilizing the city of San Antonio.  

That was the purpose.

It was not immobilizing the figure strolling through the fog, the blue flames burning from his skull.  You could not tell, but he was Daemonite. His current Acurian body was considerably different from the lizard-like body that was common among his race.  He never went back. This form was powerful.  

Power was what he wanted.  Power is what he desired. That was what he was after.  There were three men inside the building before him that would lead him to that power.  Staring through the fog to the flames that were consuming the plane that had crashed near the legendary building.  He did not know the legend of the Alamo, but, if he had, he may have appreciated the irony.

“Lord Helspont,” said a random Daemonite, looking at the man standing hidden in the fog a few feet behind Helspont.  He knew the hatred Helspont had for these humans. Yet it was not the human that was causing the concern from the Daemonite.  “Why have you recruited these blood suckers just to control the human? The Daemonites can control the human better than the vampi– “

Lord Helspont snatched the Daemonite before he could finish his statement, his powerful grasp clamping around the Daemonite’s throat.  He picked him off the ground.

“You dare question me?” Helspont said, the bolt of enhanced energy traveling through his hand and into the body of the Daemonite.  The creature twitched in Helspont’s grasp as the energy fried him from inside. The ashes tumbled to the ground and Helspont calmly brushed them off his hand.

“That was cold.”

Helspont did not turn to the voice.  Through the fog flew the vampire. Baron Blood landed beside him, 

“Not saying that I didn’t like it,” Baron Blood said, his fangs punctuating his smile.  “I can confirm that the vessels are inside the building. Everything is ready.”

“Good,” said Helspont.

“Remember…  Lord… you promised me Van Helsing once you are finished with him.”

“I remember.”

 

Chapter Three

Peeking out the window once again, Van Helsing felt his chest filling with dread.  The fog was as thick as he had ever seen it, but the devilish red eyes still pierced through the haze, chilling him to the bone.  The sheer number of eyes made him mentally step back. Though his memory was anything but perfect, he had never seen so many of the bloodsuckers in the same location at once.  

Reloading his crossbow and double checking his remaining weaponry, he turned to Alfred and said, “Pennyworth, here.  You may want to take this.” He tossed the butler two carved wooden stakes.  

“Will this do me any good against Helspont?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Listen, I am not sure any of us will survive until Helspont comes in here,” said Van Helsing.

“I love your confidence, sir,” said Alfred.

“Just being realistic,” said Van Helsing.  “There is a swarm coming.”

“Then we need to take out as many as we can,” said Blackhawk, checking through his own guns.  “I’m not going down without a fight.”

“You’ve come around,” said Van Helsing.  “Good.” Blackhawk had been blaming himself for the failure of the plane crash, a crash that, if avoided, could have led them to escape.  There was no time for looking back right now.

“How about you, Alfred?  Have you ever faced off with vampires?”

“Vampires?” he said, with a smile and a fleeting memory to his ‘master’.  “No, but I must say that this is a tad ironic.”

“What does that mean?” Blackhawk said.  

“Nevermind,” said Alfred.  REMEMBER. Turning quickly, Alfred looked around the room “What was that?”

“What was what?” asked Blackhawk.  Van Helsing had already turned away from this conversation, and Alfred shook his head.  

“Again, nevermind.”

Meanwhile, in the fog outside the Alamo, Helspont waited for the vampires to be in the proper place.  By suggestion, he had enlisted Brother Blood as much for his horde as for any of his other skills. He was willing to put up with the vampire to accomplish this goal.  A green skinned man walked up behind Helspont, gently placing his hand on the Daemonite’s shoulder. 

“It is just a matter of time, Prince Artis, before you have what you need to finally take your rightful place.”

Querl Dox smirked as his blonde hair dropped across his face.  He knew what he was after and he had the genius to get it done.  It had been too long since he left Colu and even longer since he found himself back from the future. He had adapted to life in the 21st century, but his grasp on the reality of his situation had never been completely balanced.  

“Thank you, Querl,” said Helspont.  “Your council has been of vital importance to me. Your suggestion of Blood was inspired.”

The smirk extended into a full blown smile across the green-skinned face of Brainiac 5.  

“Yes, it was,” Querl Dox aka Brainiac 5 was never modest.  He knew how brilliant he was, though he may not have been able to see how far he had fallen.  He was once a hero. Now, he was anything but. In his other hand, Querl held a chain which trailed back into the fog.  

“He is secure?” asked Helspont.

“Of course,” Brainiac 5 said, dragging the weight at the end of the chain to the feet of Helsport.  The man was bound by the chain around both arms and legs.

Alec Swan, bound and gagged, looked through his swollen eyes at the four-color villains standing over him.  He rolled his eyes back into his head.

How come I always get mixed up with these goons?” he thought.  “I don’t know why I can’t just find myself an easy case…something natural or down to earth.  Maybe a cheating husband where all I have to worry about is getting some pictures and what to bring along to eat during the stakeout.  Nope. I get vampires and super villains.”

REMEMBER

Before Alec Swan, a private investigator with the unfortunate name Firearm, could react to the voice, Brainiac 5 pulled on the chain once more, refocusing Swan on his current problem. The head vampire had arrived back at the pow-wow and Swan was hoping to discover something to help him out of this situation.

I don’t like the way that thing is looking at me,” thought Swan.  “Like it’s feeding time at the farm.”

Baron Blood, gazing down at Firearm, said, “Would it be easier if I just controlled his mind like I did the other?”

“You would not be able to control his mind,” said Helspont, “because he is a vessel.”

Helspont quickly glanced over his shoulder and Querl Dox nodded his support.

“But I have him controlled,” said Baron Blood, gesturing into the fog.  Another man walked over, his eyes totally blank and emotionless. “Jim Corrigan.”

Swan saw the zombie-like man standing motionless beside the vampire as Baron Blood took a single claw and carefully scratched Corrigan across the cheek.  The man did not move. He did not react.  

“Just do what Lord Helspont says, Baron,” said Brainiac 5.  

“Of course,” he replied.  A slight drop of blood from the mind controlled man’s face dangled on the vampire’s claw and he licked it clean.  Swan grimaced and he heard that non-corporeal word once again.

REMEMBER

 

Chapter Four

The siege was on.

Van Helsing cried out to his companions inside the walls of the Alamo that the mad rush was coming as the thought of history repeating itself in a monstrous rendition crossed his mind.  Red-eyed vampires and lizard-like aliens rushed from the fog, launching themselves into the walls with such force that the building shook.

Barricading themselves into a section of the Alamo, Van Helsing, Alfred Pennyworth and Blackhawk prepared for the worst, determined that they would not go down without a fight.  The spirits of William B. Travis, Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie were strong inside the room, but that did not build a sense of confidence or serenity.  

As vampires crashed through windows, Van Helsing was trying to minimize the available entrances to the room, targeting his fire into the very spot.  Every vampire that fell to the side seemed to be replaced by three more. Even in the years he had fought the monsters galore, he had never seen such a swarm.  REMEMBER

Alfred Pennyworth had never been considered a third wheel in a fight by anyone who truly knew him.  His appearance did not reveal his skill, which was why he was always a valuable cog in the fight against crime in Gotham City.  He was both literally and figuratively miles from those fights now. REMEMBER

Blackhawk preferred the freedom of the skies.  The rush of flight and the feeling inside of power at maneuvering through the air, the wind in his face.  He was feeling desperately claustrophobic as the space was filling with creatures unlike those he had dealt with ever before.  Every bullet he fired made him more precarious about the intensifying situation surrounding him. REMEMBER.

Three men.  Unlike in many ways.  Yet three heroes. Men who would not give up.  They may not have known why this was happening or how they found themselves in this unwinnable circumstance, but they fought on.

Too much.  Too many. The swarm of monsters continued to prostrate them.

Before succumbing to the crushing mass, Van Helsing did wonder why none of these vampires were biting him, despite the cuts and the blood upon his body.  

Then it was over.

 

Chapter Five

*SMACK*

“Wake up, Van Helsing,” the German accented voice said, “time is short.”

Van Helsing rolled his head and, no matter how hard he wished, he could not place his hand on his now throbbing face for comfort.  The reason was that he was securely bound in place by some form of rope. Alfred and Blackhawk were both in and out of consciousness and tied to stakes that had been driven into the floor of the Alamo.  Chunks of the walls had been torn asunder, scattered around the area.

A second slap echoed through the Alamo.

“I’m awake,” Van Helsing said, angered by the insult.  A large man with blue fiery flame from his head stood beside a green skinned man who had another man chained in a hump behind him.  These were people he had never seen before. REMEMBER.  What was going on?

“Good to see that you have survived for the moment.  You are a vital piece of the puzzle,” said Helspont, moving forward.

“Who in the hell are you?” Van Helsing said.  Alfred and Blackhawk were beginning to come around more fully and were taking in the desperate situation that they found themselves.  They were not dead, though, which was a plus. They were also pleased that they were not waking up as vampires, a consideration that they had made as they were succumbing to the horde of blood suckers.  REMEMBER

Helspont smiled.  Any other time such bravado, in particular coming from a human, would have led to him striking the man down, but he knew that Gabriel Van Helsing was necessary and he would commute his sentence for the moment.  

“I am Lord Helspont,” he said, “and the four of you have something that I require.”

“I’ve never seen you before in my life, Lord,” said Van Helsing.  “And I only met those two when we were escaping from…” REMEMBER

“Yes?” smiled Helspont.

“Hugo Strange,” said Alfred.

REMEMBER

Yesterday

Van Helsing had tracked Baron Blood across the country.  The monstrous vampire had come on his radar recently and his mission required him to terminate the creature.  

He had no idea what he was getting into.

He was also unaware that his arrival was not actually a surprise.

This was a castle, or at least, may as well have been one.  You did not find many of these in the States, yet here it was.  It was not the first castle he had sneaked into, but it was the first one he had entered with an airplane at the top.  He did not understand what he was seeing.

As he peered into the room, he saw a man working over equipment, deep in thought.  He had no clue who he was and only later would he hear that this was Hugo Strange. Baron Blood was there too, lurking in the shadows.  A few other vampires were in the place, seemingly under Blood’s control.  

He also saw the man who must have been the pilot of that aforementioned airplane, and a man dressed as a butler, bound and tied besides the mad scientist.

“Alfred,” he said, “it will be just a short time until I have the power to finally rid the world of the Bat.”

Bat?  Is he trying to kill Baron Blood? Van Helsing thought.  That does not make sense.  

“Baron, have you gotten the fourth man?”

“Of course I have, Hugo,” replied Blood.  With a glance, an unconscious man who had been chained up was brought into the room.

Firearm?  Van Helsing said.  He recognized him. They had briefly teamed up on one of his cases.  He was a private investigator. Alec Swan. Van Helsing knew him to be a good man.  Four men?  %$^%$

“The machine is ready.  Seize the day!” Strange said, slamming the button.  A massive jolt of energy leapt from the machine, snatching Van Helsing from outside the window.  The energy engulfed him and the pilot,the butler and Firearm. The four of them were pulled into a quadrangle at the outskirts of the energy, held in place.  Strange was laughing as the energy reached out once again, this time for something… outside.

In the middle of the energy, a white skinned man appeared, a green cloak hanging from his frame.

“The Spectre?” the butler said and Van Helsing barely thought about why the butler would know this ghost.  

Before anything else could be said, the Spectre was torn into four pieces, one piece projected at each of the four men, barreling into their chests.  The pain was excruciating. It burned unlike anything that Van Helsing could remember. After an endless few seconds, the energy dispersed and the four men dropped to the ground.  A fifth man fell to the floor as well, from the place where the ghost had floated.

“What happened?” muttered Van Helsing, not able to remember anything from the last few seconds.  It was as someone had pulled a cover over his memory.

“Success!” screamed Strange.  

But success was short-lived.  The word barely escaped the mouth of the scientist before Baron Blood was on him.  The fangs sunk deeply in as he ripped his throat out. Baron Blood buried his teeth into the soft flesh of the scientist as the warm, life giving plasma drained from his form.  Strange’s shocked screams were muffled from the monster and he slowly sunk to the floor.  

Karma’s a bitch,” Van Helsing thought, looking at the others.  “Get up,”

Helping the others to their feet, Van Helsing turned to the pilot.  

“Was that your plane I saw?” he said. “Can you get us out of here?”

“Yes,” he said.

The four rushed toward the exit of the room, however, Firearm was snatched by the other vampires before he could escape.  The other three could not stop as they were being pursued by a horde of vampires who seemed to come out of nowhere. Van Helsing hated leaving him behind, but they would not survive a fight right now.  They were too weak. If only they could get to that plane.

NOW

“You three attempted your futile escape just before I arrived.  I must say, I did not expect three heroes such as yourselves to just run off while you left Swan and Corrigan behind,” said Helspont.

“Who’s Corrigan?” Van Helsing said, growing irritated at being confused by what was happening.

“He was the Spectre,” said Alfred, once again showing off the knowledge that a normal butler would not have.  “He’s right over there.”

“Correct, Alfred Pennyworth,” said Helspont.  “He needs to be here as the anchor. You see, you are the vessels that I required.  The power of the Spectre is beyond mine and I want it. I could not have taken it on my own, but by splitting into fours, I can control the power…making the transfer easier.”

“Are you insane?” asked Blackhawk.

“Of course not.  Hugo Strange would have never been able to create the necessary equipment without Querl Dox…” started Helspont.

“Brainiac 5, you mean” said Alfred.

“My aren’t we Mr. Know-it-all,” said Brainiac 5.

“Yes, so as soon as Strange was able to accrue the four of you, he became quite expendable.”

Baron Blood smiled.

Slapping on some gauntlets handed to him by Brainiac 5, Helspont said, “And in a few minutes, the four of you will be expendable as well.”

 

Chapter Six

As the energy flew, pulling free from each of the men, their screams cut through the Texas air.  This mighty power, one that they had not even remembered they had, was being ripped from their bodies and heading toward the awaiting frame of Lord Helspont.

“This is intolerable,” Alfred said.

“Why do I get stuck with cases like this?” said Firearm, his chains slipping from his body.

“We only have one chance,” said Van Helsing.  “When this energy ends, we have to rush him. Hopefully, he will be unsteady and we can get those gloves off him.”

“You need another plan,” said Blackhawk.  “Look.”

The Spectre power was heading into Lord Helspont, but his face told the story.  There was something wrong.

“What is going on?” Helspont said, turning,”Querl?”

Facing Brainiac 5, Lord Helspont saw the bright white teeth shining through the green skin. He knew his mistake immediately.  Trust.

The power was going straight through Helspont and forming around Brainiac 5.  

“Yes!” the former Legionnaire said , the power beyond his calculations pulsing through his muscles.  “It is mine!”

With a thrust gesture, Lord Helspont felt the remaining energy inside his chest explode outward, tearing him in two.  The lifeless lump of pieces that was Lord Helspont dropped to the ground at the feet of the cackling Brainiac 5.

“Now!” screamed Van Helsing as the four men leapt at Brainiac 5, a long green cloak manifesting itself around him, his skin quickly changing to a pale shade.  Brainiac 5 shrugged and the four men flew from his body.

“Baron,” said Brainiac 5, turning his attention to the vampire.  “Your assistance was so important. Thank you.”

A bolt of energy flew from Brainiac 5 and went cutting through Baron Blood and the other vampires in the room, turning them to dust.  The eyes of Brainiac 5 bulged in madness as he turned on everyone that had helped him. He did not care. He had the power.

“I am the Spectre!” he shouted, maniacally.

Without warning, he doubled over, grasping his gut.  The scream was filled with anguish. “No!” he said, as if he were fighting from within.  

“What is going on?” asked Firearm.

As he asked, the group spotted Jim Corrigan behind Brainiac 5, his eyes clouded over, trying to pull the power of the Spectre home.

“Help me,” yelled Corrigan, and the four men lunged back at the new Spectre, grabbing hold of what they could.  They had no idea what they could do in the presence of such power, but they were determined to do anything they could.  

With the hands of the four on Brainiac 5, and a seemingly strengthening Jim Corrigan holding on tightly, the energy coursed back through the “vessels” and headed back from where it came.

“You should have killed me when you had a chance,” said Corrigan, whispering in his ear.  

The green cape withered away and began to reform around his last full host.  His skin turned white as Brainiac 5’s skin returned to the green. A final blast of green energy sent everyone flying.

Van Helsing looked up and the Spectre levitated slightly off the ground, Brainiac 5 laying on the ground before him.   He reached down and grabbed Brainiac 5 by the throat, pulling him up to his face. They could not hear what Spectre said to him, but, after a second, he turned toward the last remaining men.  A simple nod of the head was all the Spectre did and… he and Brainiac 5 were gone.

Van Helsing, Alfred, Alec Swan and Blackhawk looked around the Alamo, which was barely standing.

“What now?” said Blackhawk.  

There was a long pause.  Finally…

“I guess all we can do is remember…” said Van Helsing.

Twinkie Cowboys

The man was slowly brought, horseback, to the ominous dangling tree limb that was going to be his fate.  He had spent much of his adult life being a scallywag… a pain in the posterior of anyone he came in contact with, but he was, at heart, a good man.  He never thought that he would meet his maker at the end of a rope.

The posse led the horse into position, and looped the white rope around the sturdy branch.  The end was tightened around the trunk of the tree while the other, the noose, went around his thin neck.

“This is your last chance, Tomas James, to confess your sins before you face the final judgment.  What do you have to say for yourself, pardner?”

The words of the man were lost on Tomas.  What could he say? He was a troublemaker.  He was a rapscallion. But he just did not deserve to die like this.  This was reserved for the worst of the worst, and he just did not fit that bill.  So he stayed quiet.

“Very well,” said the leader of the posse, with a doff of his cowboy hat, “so be it.  May God have mercy on your soul.”

With a whack on the rear of the horse Tomas sat upon, the animal took off running.  Tomas closed his eyes. He did not know if he would suffocate or if his neck would break immediately when the slack left the rope, but neither result were what he hoped.  In his head, he said a silent goodbye to the world knowing that he would be joining his beloved sister in the afterlife. That was the one thing that he was thankful for. As he felt the horse leave beneath his body, he knew that gravity was about to take over and it would soon be over.

A shot rang out through the air and Tomas found himself hitting the ground.  The bullet had severed the hangman’s rope, and he landed hard in a puff of Western dust.  However, he was still very much alive.

As Tomas quickly tried to remove the noose, the rest of the posse turned to see what varmint had interrupted the cowboy justice.  There on the hill beyond the scene, with the slight morning sun shining over his shoulder, sat a stranger upon a white horse. The smoking gun was still in his right hand, but in his left, a golden tubular shaped cake.  He took a bite of the Twinkie as he slowly trotted the stallion over to the mob. Some of the creamy filling was left upon his chin, intermixing with his beard.

“There will be no hanging here today,” the stranger said, taking a second bite of the golden cake.  

“Mister, you just made a big mistake,” said the leader of the posse.  

“No… the big mistake has yet to be made,” he said, a smirk plastered on his face.  “Here is what is going to happen… you are going to dispatch your little mob, and return to your families, happy with the fact that you are able to do so under your own power.”

The leader looked to be ready to respond to the comment of the stranger, but before he could, the stranger continued.

“If you decide that you cannot live with that option,” he said, popping the final bite of Twinkie into his mouth, “then the real ‘big mistake’ is ready to happen.”

With that final bite swallowed, the stranger pulled out a second gun and proceeded to fire multiple shots through the air, piercing the belt buckles or suspenders of each of the men standing around Tomas.  The trousers of each man fell to the ground in unison, leaving them unharmed in all other way. The unbelievable display of marksmanship was really all the stranger needed to do. The mob froze in their spots, frightened at what this stranger could do.

“Now, this doesn’t have to be a bad moment for us all,” the stranger said, reaching into his backpack.  He tossed several packages at the feet of the men. “Here… Twinkies for everyone. See… it could have been much worse.”  Turning his attention to Tomas, the stranger said, “Get up.”

Tomas had watched this display with a confused terror.   “Do I know you?”

“You will,” said the stranger, extending a hand.  Tomas took the offered appendage and he found himself pulled up onto the horse behind the stranger.  The stranger looked to the intimidated mob and said, “Remember, even if the exterior is not what you want, there may be a sweet center.”

With those wise words, the stranger reared back on his horse, waving a Twinkie in his right hand.  The sound of the horse’s whinny cut through the Old West skyline. The sound faded as the horse galloped into the horizon.

“Who was that?” asked the leader of the mob.

“Doesn’t matter,” said one of the other men, who were down on his knees, scarfing down one of the cream-filled treasures.  “These things are good.”

The horse galloped at a remarkable speed, faster than Tomas had ever travelled in his life.  The wind smacked against his face and the smell of sugar across this stranger was strong. Tomas wrapped his arms around the man’s torso, wondering if he had exchanged one intolerable situation for another.  After what seemed like the longest ten minutes of his life, the horse slowed to a trot and the ride came to a halt. The stranger dropped Tomas to the ground, indelicately. For the second time in the last hour, Tomas landed hard on his own patootie.  Rubbing his backside as he stood to his feet, Tomas looked up at the stranger.

The stranger was decked out in a bright yellow shirt and white pants.  His white cowboy hat sat atop a long mane of blonde hair. His beard had been patiently manicured as each hair looked perfect, despite the touches of sugar that clumped throughout.   One would wonder why someone who was as meticulous with his beard as this stranger clearly was would allow sticky sugar to mar the appearance.  

“Um…thank you,” said Tomas, uncertain why this man had helped him.  “Who…are …you?”

“Who I am is not important,” he said, “Here…you must keep up your strength for the trip ahead of us.”  He tossed Tomas a Twinkie, the wrapper crinkled as the confused scallywag caught it.  

“No thanks,” said Tomas, “I have never liked these things.”

The stranger turned an eye to Tomas with such a scowl that Tomas was not sure if the stranger was going to let him live after that comment.  After a few tense seconds, the stranger smiled.

“You do not know what you are missing, my friend,” he said, with a hearty laugh.  Tomas tossed the packaged snack cake back to the stranger, who hungrily tore open the packaging with his teeth.  “God knew what he was doing on the day he created this tempting morsel.”

“Don’t you worry about the preservatives in that thing?” Tomas asked.

“Do I look worried?” he asked, opening his shirt and displaying his washboard abs.  “These are the secret to life.”

“If I could change the subject,” said Tomas, realizing that this was a topic that he simply wasn’t going to win, “why did you save me?”

“Hm?”

“I mean… don’t misunderstand me.  I appreciate the save. I really do.  But I do not know you from Adam. Why did you put yourself on the line for me?”

“I would hardly say that I ‘put myself on the line.’  That carnival of clowns was never a threat to me,” he said, making the ridiculously arrogant comment sound quite mild. 

“Okay, that may be true, but even still… you could be looked at as a criminal.  A rogue who is opposed to justice.”

“Did you deserve to be hanged?”

“No… but,”

“No buts about it, Tomas.  I know an injustice when I see it,” said the stranger.

“Wait… how did you know my name?” Tomas asked.  

“My appearance at your lynching was not an accident, Tomas James.  I was hired to find you and my investigation led me to your unfortunate circumstance.  It is very lucky that I found you when I did or else my employer would be very disappointed.”

“Your employer?  Who hired you?” Tomas asked, feeling that maybe he went from one fire to another.  Who wanted him badly enough to send this Twinkie warrior from out of the mysterious West to save him from frontier justice?  

“It was me, Tomas,” a feminine voice said, a voice that Tomas had known.  A voice that he had known all of his life. A voice that he did not believe he would ever hear again.  

It was his sister.

The sister that he believed was dead.

“Marjorie?” Tomas said.

There she stood.  His older sister, the one who practically raised him when their parents had been killed in a stagecoach wreck, Marjorie.  She had died when she was twenty-one years old, leaving poor sixteen year old Tomas to fend for himself. He was at her funeral.  How was this possible?

“It cannot be.  I was at your side when you died.  How is this possible? How are you not dead?”

The beautiful woman strode across the ground to stand in front of her brother, softly caressing his age worn face.  The gruffly whiskers were sharp to her touch. A tender tear rolled down her cheek. The touch told Tomas the real truth.

“I am dead,” she said.  

Before he knew it, Tomas was crying, embracing the phantom as tightly as he had ever embraced anyone.  He had never thought that he would see her again. Now she was here…and he didn’t know for how long.  

Marjorie pointed at the stranger.  “I contacted him for help when it was clear that your choices were going to lead to you ending your life early.  Your troublemaking…. It is leading you to an early grave. Believe me when I say that you do not want that.”

“What can I do?”

“Ride with him,” she said, still pointing at the stranger.  “Help him. Help others. Become more than what you are. Do not waste this opportunity.  The next time, you may not be so lucky.”

And with those words, she was gone.

Tomas fell to his knees, sobbing…his tears watering the dusty ground.   A packaged Twinkie landed at his knees. Tomas looked back to the stranger, still mounted on his white horse.

“If you’re going to ride with me, you’ll need to acquire a taste for these,” he said smiling.  

Tomas opened the package.

The Stranger and his Twinkies

 

By Kevin Fuss

 

The Epic Race on Mars

“Welcome everyone to the ‘Galaxy’s Most Famous Arena,’ Martian Square Gardens for the running of the 10th Annual Epic Race on Mars.  I am Nick Soapdish and welcome to the most exciting two minutes in the Universe.  As always, I am with the lovely and talented Becki Binary. Hello Becki.”

“Hi there, Nick.  It must be a pleasure for you to talk to me…*giggle*”

“As always, Becki.  This anniversary race will be one for the record books.”  

“For sure!”

“Do you know why, Becki?”

“I do.”

*Nick pauses to see if Becki would expound on her answer*

“So….?” said Nick.

“Huh?” Becki said.

“As everyone knows, “Nick said continuing on,  straightening his blue blazer jacket, “The Epic Race on Mars began after the Intergalactic Wars, as a symbol of peace and prosperity across the entire galaxy.  We have hosted the event since the President of the Galaxy, Rjimm J’Frthzi proclaimed it so. And the 10th annual event has something extra special.  It has an appearance by the one and only celebrity, Brock Brawn.”

*sigh* Becki began fanning herself with papers that had been sitting on the desk in front of them.  “Ah…I loooooooooooooooooooooooooove him!” Becki leans back in her chair, continuing to fan herself.

“Brock is here to be our official starter,” Nick said.

“He can get me started any time,” said Becki, wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead.  

“Remember Becki…we can’t have a repeat of the incident from three years ago.  Our censors’ heads nearly exploded that day.”

“Whatever,” she said, making a disappointed face.

“For more on the race itself, we will send it down to our race side reporter, Chadwick Bumblefield,” said Nick.  “Chad.”

“Thank you Nick,” said Chad, “and I am excited to be here today.  We have an exciting field of competitors today, Nick and Becki, but by far the favorite is the Wampa Lampa from the Xanxes System.  He is being ridden by the horse Solomon.”

“Chad,” interrupted Nick, “but, for our new viewers, can you explain why a horse is riding a Wampa Lampa?”

“Of course, Nick,” said Chadwick.  “For the history of the Epic Race on Mars, our jockeys on the individual creatures involved in the race have been Horses from the planet of Stallion, the home planet of President J’Frthzi.   As we all know, the horse people of Stallion are the greatest riders in the universe and President J’Frthzi wanted to display his planet mates. “

“If so, how did this event come to be held on Mars?” asked Nick.

“Union dues,” said Chadwick.

“Ah,” said Nick.

“Plus, the red tint of the planet made the horses’ manes stand out more…creating a pleasing visual image for the intergalactic television audience…and we know how important those ratings are.”

“No doubt,” replied Nick.

“Chadwick, this is Becki,” Becki said, pausing to brush her dangling red hair behind her left ear in her best Jennifer Aniston imitation.

Chadwick waited for a question from the redheaded beauty.  The camera zoomed in to Chadwick as he continued to wait.

“Um… Becki… do you have a question?” asked Chadwick.

“No,” she said.  “Why?”

Chadwick’s eyes bulged from his skull and he face palmed himself.  He expected it from her, but every time he finds himself frustratingly frustrated.  

“Thanks for that report, Chadwick,” said Nick, breaking back into the broadcast.  “Now, a word from our sponsor.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

William Shatner appeared on the screen.  He was dressed up in his Captain Kirk costume, though his ample frame has stretched the seams a bit.  Shatner smiles his best cheesy smile at the camera.

“I have voyaged to every corner of the Final Frontier, but never have I come across a drink better than this,” he said, holding up a green bottle.  “Supernova, the ale with a real Big Bang. Take it from me, I have been all over the galaxy…and I am a really big lush… so I have tried every drink imaginable.  I have downed a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster without blinking an eye. The Moloko Plus was like mother’s milk. And the Glingue, the favorite drink of the Shingouz, no matter how toxic, cannot match the Supernova.”

He takes a deep swig of the green bottle, staggers a little bit, his eyes crossing.

“Oh…that really hits the spot.  It is like an explosion in the old digestive system.  After a six pack of these, you are really seeing stars…or at least the remnants of them.”

Taking another deep swig, Shatner falls backwards.  After a few seconds, he stands back to his feet.

“But if you do not believe me, listen to my furry friend.”

Chewbacca walks over and stands beside Shatner.  

“Huwaa muaa mumwa?” asked Shatner in Shyriiwook, the language of the Wookies.  {TRANSLATED: CAN I BUY YOU A DRINK?}

Shatner hands him a second green bottle of Supernova.  Chewbacca pumps his arms up in the air. Chewbacca downs the entire bottle in one fell drink.

“Rhawk-Arrgh, rrrooaarrgghh!” exclaimed Chewbacca.  {TRANSLATED: MAY THE FORCES BE WITH YOU}

“Live long and prosper,” said Shatner.  Behind him, Leonard Nemoy appeared as if beamed in from the Transporter Room.

“You using my catch phrase is sell liquor is illogical, Captain,” he said, jumping right into the Mr. Spock character.

“Supernova!” said Shatner.  “A real BOOM!”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Welcome back to the 10th Annual Epic Race on Mars.  I’m Nick Soapdish. This broadcast is being beamed to all corners of the cosmos, with the expectation that this will be the most viewed race in the history of universal coverage, surpassing the classic Ultimate Quidditch Match of 2035.  I am here with Becki Binary.”

“’Sup,” Becki said, holding her fingers in a peace sign.

“Becki, what is your favorite part of the Epic Race on Mars?” asked Nick.

“Hm…. Probably the catering,” she said.  “I always eat until I am just bloated. Love those mini-corn dogs.”

“We are mere moments away from this year’s race.”

“Shouldn’t that be this light year’s race?” said Becki.

“Actually Becki,” said Nick, “a light year is a measurement of distance, not time.”

“Huh?  But the word year is in it.”

“That’s true, but in this case, it is referring to distance not time,” Nick repeated.

“Really?  That doesn’t sound right.  Should I look it up in my Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?” she asked.

“I don’t think that you’ll find it in there,” he said.  “Just trust me.”

AAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“That’s the horn for the three minute warning.  Three minutes for all the riders to report to the starting line and prepare themselves for the longest two minutes in sports history,” said Nick.

“Is that hyperbole?” said Becki.

“Perhaps,” said Nick, pointing down to the track from his vantage point.  “There is Brock Brawn walking out to start the race.”

“Brock Brawn… baby… burly and buff… Brock’s bulging biceps belongs beside bathing beauties and berating bullies.  As the Backstreet Boys said, ‘Bye, Bye, Bye’!”

“Nice use of alliteration, Becki,” said Nick.

“Hey,” she said, glaring angrily at Nick, “my parents were married!”

Nick’s head drops, shaking back and forth.

“Words sometimes do not you justice, Becki,” said Nick.

“What do you mean…sometimes,” she said with a wag of her head.  

Turning back to the race, Nick continued, “Here comes the racers now.  There is Wampa Lampa with Solomon on its back. What a majestic looking horse he is.  His picturesque amber mane is flowing in the breeze as they trot to the starting gate.  Next up, there is Mr. Edward riding on the Creature from the Black de Moon. Mr. Edward is coming into the race hot, after winning the Saturn Ring 500 in under 13 parsecs.”

“Is parsec a measurement of time, too?” asked Becki.

“Well…..” said Nick, looking to change the subject.  “And there is the oldest Horse in our race. Secretary-Et has been in every Epic Races on Mars events, today riding a Tauntaun from the planet Hoth.”

“Little known fact, Nick, the Tauntaun runs better in the warm temperature than it does on the frozen planet of Hoth.”

“That is correct, Becki.  And there is B.B. B.B. is riding the original hound of hell, Cerberus,” said Nick.

“I have heard that they are considered quite the underdog,” said Becki.

“Ha Ha Ha…real cute, Becki,” said Nick.

“I know I am,’ she said as a big smile flashed across her face.

“All of the other participants are coming up to the starter’s line now as well and we are just mere moments away from the beginning of the race.  You can cut the tension in the air with a knife as the packed house of thousands of spectators and a galaxy full of onlookers wait with baited breath for the start of the Epic Race on Mars.  I think I have goose bumps,” Nick said, rubbing his arm. “There is Brock with the starter’s pistol.”

“Mmmmmmmmmm, Brock,” said Becki.

Brock raised the pistol and pulled the trigger.

“And they are off!” Nick shouted.  “Look at them go. It is a real dogfight here.  I mean…literally as Cerberus has attacked the Tauntaun. “

“Who saw that coming?” Becki said.

“Well, three-headed hell hounds are tough to handle,” said Nick.  

“Yeah,” said Becki.

“And now Cerberus seems to be consuming the Tauntaun.  I have never seen anything quite like this.”

“Oh the humanity!” yelled Becki.

   “And the race is continuing.”  Nick pauses, mouth agape at what he sees in front of him.  “OH MY GOODNESS!!!! That is the most incredible thing I have ever seen.  Quick get a shot of that before it is too late. Just loo-“

Technical Difficulties.

 

The Epic Race on Mars

By Kevin Fuss