Sun Dancer led us back to the farm on a narrow, well worn and clearedpath that was much easier than the way we had walked before. "This is the way we go to visit our ancestors who are buried near the river,” he said. “Remember this way when you return tomorrow." When we reached the bottom of the hill, he took two strips of leather out of a small pouch he carried and tied them to a branch, so we would know where to enter....

While we made our way down the other side of the hill through the much thicker woods and no path, we stopped a few times, uncertain which way to go. "I think it’s this way," I said, pointing in one direction and Alice said, "No, I think we came from that direction." "Maybe we should have let Sun Dancer bring us back," I said. "Maybe," Alice responded, looking around. "We’ll find our way back. Let’s go that way," she said...

When they left, no one spoke. My dad clutched his coffee cup with both hands and stared into the fire. Glenn's gazed in the direction where the three Indians had disappeared, then, shaking his head, looked down at the ground, mulling over what had happened. Tammy bit her lower lip, glanced at Glenn seated next to her, then rubbed his back, trying to soothe him while looking at the hill where they had disappeared. Alice wr...

Dad sat in the front seat of Glenn’s green and white VW bus, and I sat in the back with Alice and Tammy. We had all of our sleeping bags and backpacks in the rear but no tents. Glen thought we would be able to sleep in the barn, or maybe the house, and said there was an old cabin used by apprentices we might be able to use. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. Tammy had a large blue ice chest that she said was filled with sand...

It had stopped raining, but the dark, wet streets sparkled from the streetlights. We drove for a few blocks before anyone said anything. Alice turned to look at me in the backseat as if she wanted to say something, but hesitated. Her eyes told me she was as confused and disturbed as I was. My mind was swirling. What’s going on? How could the books we read be real? How could Elizabeth know about the Bendula? This is nuts....

It was a rainy Thursday. School was a drag, and I went through the motions of being a student--going to the different classes, sitting in the back row where I always sat, usually by the window, so I could see the trees and watch the birds scampering on the grass in front. But that day, it was dreary and pouring. I kept looking up at the clock, watching the hand moving slower than ever. I doodled in my notebook, making int...

In the kitchen, my dad put the book down on the old maple table, filled up the red kettle with water and turned on the flame. "You and Alice were so quiet in the car. Is something wrong?""Not really," I answered. "Not really? That means there is, but you don’t want to talk about it." "Nothing’s wrong ... really." "How about some hot chocolate?" I was anxious to get up to my room to call Alice, but I could tell he felt lik...

It's amazing how something happens that changes your life. I mean, you hear something, see something, read something and you know nothing will ever be the same. That's what happened the night I finished reading the final book of the Atlantis Trilogy by Arnold Greenberg. It made me cry, actually sob, and I remember Alice telling me, “Alex, you have to read these books. They changed my life.” If you knew Alice, you'd know w...

Chapter 64 To Save a Loved One I get up, and scratch the crumbling wall of the office to distract the angry green-eyed man. “Your walls seem rather thin and unreliable!” “These “peaceful rallies” of Flingers are beginning to piss me off. This damage is more of a reflection of their volatile state of mind, than the thickness of our walls!” Fern rolls his eyes. “… or the reason they are so volatile is because we are so unre...

Chapter 63 The Friendly Assault Strange objects hang in the skies above the forest we’re in. The screeching seems to be coming from them. Come to think of it, it is more melodic than annoying. It feels like they are talking to each other. The objects hang low enough to discern what these things are. Well, I don’t know what they are, but I can see that they are oval and colorful. There are long flags, or banners hanging fr...

The Jet-SetNestled in the valley, in the Bay of the Beacon. Hidden in vaults where visuals display. Blackened bountiful tear-drops suspended, for hungry eyes an optic delight. Oh vision. Oh wonder, dark-light in our lives, seeking, craving, wanting and purchased.Ex-miners became, the new artisans of beauty, fashioned and carved the tillings away.A monkey-puzzle tree washed up on our shorelines, sinking and compressing pro...

Green People Are Good by Carol Sumilas Boshears It was getting late and Lettie was rushing home to put her “things" to bed for the night. Other people may put their children to bed, but Lettie’s children were something different than other peoples. They were her very important objects and miscellaneous stuff she had picked up during the day while she worked and took a stroll at lunchtime. Her varied possessions were paper...

I let out a long, gusty sigh. Finals were just days away, yet I was still caught up in my thoughts. I pulled a hand through my short, black hair as I gently opened the cover of my literature book.For hours my eyes scanned the contents of each page, reading and re-reading. I would shift uncomfortably in my small, aged wooden chair occasionally, and then I would pull my legs up against my chest. It seemed like it had been a...