Exile

Volume 25 | Number 1 Article 1

1979

Exile Vol. XXV No. 1John MarshallDenison University

Cynthia Lanning HahnDenison University

Eloise HavemanDenison University

Melissa SimmonsDenison University

Chris GjessingDenison University

See next page for additional authors

Follow this and additional works at: http://digitalcommons.denison.edu/exile

Part of the Creative Writing Commons

This Article is brought to you for free and open access by Denison Digital Commons. It has been accepted for inclusion in Exile by an authorized editorof Denison Digital Commons.

Recommended CitationMarshall, John; Hahn, Cynthia Lanning; Haveman, Eloise; Simmons, Melissa; Gjessing, Chris; Minacci, Lisa; McLaughlin, Bob;Bates, Betsy; Leopard, Ann; Davies, Lindy; and Cox, Ellen (1979) "Exile Vol. XXV No. 1," Exile: Vol. 25 : No. 1 , Article 1.Available at: http://digitalcommons.denison.edu/exile/vol25/iss1/1

Exile Vol. XXV No. 1

AuthorsJohn Marshall, Cynthia Lanning Hahn, Eloise Haveman, Melissa Simmons, Chris Gjessing, Lisa Minacci, BobMcLaughlin, Betsy Bates, Ann Leopard, Lindy Davies, and Ellen Cox

This article is available in Exile: http://digitalcommons.denison.edu/exile/vol25/iss1/1

ExileWinter 1979 Vol. 25, No. 1Oenison University Granville, Ohio

r

The live man, out of lands and prisons,shakes the dry pods,

probes for old wills and friendships, and the big locust-casquesBend to the tawdry table,Lift up their spoons to mouths, put forks in cutlets,And make sound like the sound of voices.

— Ezra Pound

editors: Chris Gjessing and Lindy Oavies

prose:

FriendJohn Marshall

Visiting RelativesCynthia Lanning Hahn

The Mud LaneEloise Haveman

The Petrification of a Wild Sweet William BlossomMelissa Simmons

art:Three views of Granville

Scott Tryon (front cover)untitled photos by

BogartJerry Brown

LandscapeScott Tryon

Submissive DefianceBogart

Three things that RemainJerry Brown

back coverLindy Davies

poetrv-A Photographer Documents Her Death

Chris Gjessingthree Haiku

Eloise HavemanMorning

Melissa SimmonsGranite Travel

Lisa Minaccidid you year?he's coming home again.

Bob McLaughlinDavid

Betsy BatesLe Cafe de 1'Univers

Ann Leoparduntitled

John MarshallThe Last Ramona Poem (fat chance)

Lindy DaviesMother Told Me not to Play Next Door

Ellen CoxPoems of the Inconsequential

Eloise Haveman

Two

FRIENDJohn Marshall

One

It was a gift, given probably because she didn't want itanymore. Tall golden pagodas tower above golden poolsreflecting golden trees, shimmering in the sixty-watt light ofmy room, paving the way to dark pagoda entrances thatreveal nothing. An antique I'm told, seventy years old; itlooks much older, a relic of ancient artistic eccentricity. Ihung it prominently in my room because I want her to knowthat I did, though she will not see it hanging there."Burnished bronze," "must be a brass rubbing" - - to behonest, I think it's obnoxious. But, she makes me like it. Oneday I'll take it down, perhaps, but that will be a sign of otherchanges.

Hands clasped together we walk the go\den pathway,neither knowing what lies ahead, goals and simple hopespulling us forward. The path narrows in the distance;blackness lies at path's end. Black for ends, or black forbeginnings? The beauty of the trees around us beckons,humming songs of warmth and quiet. We stop, but only for ashort while.

Three

I was sitting in my room, staring at the decorations on thewalls, remembering the origin of each one. The one Iremember best is from you. I tried to write a poem about it,but only came up with two lines. Here they are, anyway:

Rising sun, bursting golden gleamingbreaking across night sky .......

Four

Mei-tai had scarcely been gone a week, yet Chuan knewshe would not return. She had seen the golden vision, just asher grandmother had predicted - - and it drew her,demanded her. Its desire was tenfold that of Chuan's love —but its love was not jealous, as Chuan knew. What Chuandid not know was that the vision was golden only to his eyes.He, too, had seen it, but only Mei-tai was able to perceive itstruth. In truth it was long and narrow, and, very often,lonely: it was a path of constant compromise. If he had seen

•aoueip }se|

•pE3[ puiqaq sassaujim'Buiiuiunq auiqoeiu

e 'pauoj ajppiiu pue}qSi| ji smoqs Baaaieo Aui

sem q;eap pjoj uaaq pj

•jno 5ui[|ej si Jieq AJ^J•Seq asou e LUOJJ a|niu B

'asaqj LUOJJ spaaj ;j'svjooq aiuoaqo yoSuiSueq sipes yos

uuje Auu moaj una saui| auij

•S||em paqDea|q jjo SLUOOJqSnoaqj >|eanbs (BUOISEDDO UB f\\uo

S||oa 'spBd 'sjaaqm pue saoqs s;i uo

this, he would not have understood why Mei-tai hadaccepted its demands. He would not have seen it at all.

Five

"I can't understand you sometimes.""What do you mean?""I mean, this thing about posessions and personal space.""You're being paternalistic again.""Ad hominem attack — a logical fallacy.""And condescending too. Look, just shutup for a while, OK?""No, I want to talk about it — now.""We don't have anything to talk about.""I want you to have this, too.""But isn't one of your favorites?""No — well, I can't get it back, anyway.""Thanks. I'll remember this place — alot of times here -

mostly good ones.""We won't remember the bad ones.""What bad ones?""Silly.""Yeah — this was a good place to be in, when I was here.""Part of it was yours too, you know."

Six

Two things could happen. One, it will be displayed for alifetime, even if I only look at it once or twice a year. Or, it willbe taken down, as the gold fades, and stored in undustedattics.

Shirfs on the /mi-,flopping their arms, embrace

in this April wind.

Watching the receding wave,swiftly and suddenly I

move back as though on wings.

The thislesare question marks this morning

facing autumn's sun.

Should I submit a few HaikuVerses for Exile?Eloise Haveman

U3AO| }Sap|0

^ aoi avjeui'adu pue a[qeaj|Buj

mou 'suin[d a>ji[satpoq Suisu ano jo

paaEqs

•uiosso[q uin|d B psaui[ ([ijs aq} q;im

aoi saqsunoufyatp uaajsEa UE p mo|5

A\ aDBjqoia ojaAip j aaojaq

qjBajq p SuiMBJp Buoj E q;im SBaoi auiud

uad njjs B puB sdno paup pssau>jjBp pus 3Dua|is aq}'squii| xEj oiojj

•a|iqooi B pasiod aq} Sui>(aas

'}ou>j ;uaotja.i B uo SuijjamppUB S3DIOA 'saDBJ SUI>(UI|

SuipuBjunsqSis puiui

•spoooiaoi sasEajp^SEd E jo

asdaii|5

•ssEjS s(/v\opuim aq; o;aoi 5ui/iajBD

mous paouBM jo aanu Efi| 'a5ans suia/\o JSIOLU p

q;Eaaq jsay rtoiajEqui i

suouiiuig

Visiting Relatives

Cynthia Lanning Hahn

It was a half hour ride on fast, bumpy roads and now shefelt sick. Isabel told her mother that she knew she shouldn'thave come, that she was probably going to throw up on theirplastic coated furniture. Her mother slammed the car doorand bent down close to Isabel's face, then hissed throughclenched teeth and stiff red lips to please behave. The familyentered the apartment building. The thick smell of food andpeople living together surrounded them as they entered thepale green foyer. Isabel began breathing out in short, loudpuffs so the smell wouldn't get in her lungs. Her motherturned around slowly and glared at her. Isabel whined that

\V\ro\ up and anyvoav sV\ sVvhome studying for the spe\\\ngbee. Wet mother turned herbody sharply back to face the rows of white buttons on thewall. She picked one, pressed it firmly, then released it.Somewhere above them a door opened and an excitedbabble fell, echoing metallically, through the stair well. Hermother called up something in a light, cheerful voice andmarched on up the stairs. Isabel was the tail end of theparade. Her mother and father were leading the twobouncing blonde heads of her sisters. They were too youngto know what they were in for, thought Isabel. The noise oftheir shoes banged madly against the walls, as they madetheir way to the third floor. Isabel caught a glimpse of herparents' faces as they turned and began the next flight. Theywere both frowning. Her mother was saying somethingabout "old Nana Dear", but she could only make out a fewwords of the discussion.

Isabel couldn't keep breathing out anymore, so sheclapped her hand over her nose and mouth and inhaledcarefully. The familiar smell of her own hand covered someof the apartment smell, but as she rounded the last landing,her father caught her eye and held it while her mother wasbeing engulfed by the pudgy arms of Aunt Rose. Her fathershook his head at her, which was his usual silent way ofexpressing his disappointment with someone. Then, he lethimself be embraced by the bunch of fat, chattering womenblocking the doorway. Soon she was going to have to passthrough it.

The last of her sisters was sucked lovingly through the

sarta aaj-j -spi] aAa aaq ssoaoB pue met aaq punoaB ui>js asoo|aqj uaoaj spaBmdn SuijEipEa SUIBA >(jcp A"UIJ jo spaapunqaaam aaaqj^ 'uaooa aqj ssoaDB uaoaj paztjEaa peq aqs UBqjpaao|ODSip aaoua sem qDiqm 'aoBj aqj JB umop Sui>|oo| poojs[aqes] 'Suippou DijEqdoia siq panuijuoo puE pa|iuas A|>pinb'aaq JB dn pa>joo| aaqjsj aaj-j '}' qSnoaqj passsd aqs SB>pBq aaq punoaB pajaims j] UIE ||ijs aqj ui BuiSusq a^ouis joaaAE] AEa6-an|q aqj qSnoaqj pa>||Bm puB poojs pqesj -sapisuiSuiABoap sji Sui|BaAaa 'Ajpajpxa paAoai qjnoua aaq jo saSpaua>junaqs 'Aap aq_L 'ajBue ajqEjaojiuoDun AjsnoiAqo puBppo UB ui spaE/v\>pEq ua||Ej peq pEaq aaj-j -uoijisod paqoaE'aSueajs B ui JES aqs puB '>)DBq aaq puiqaq paddi|s mou psaqaaq dn paddoad psq qDiqm moj[id paaapioaquaa aqj^ -pazB[6ooj aaam Aaqj iaans aq ^upinoo aqs jng -|aqEsj uo snDojoj pauaaas saria ua>juns aaj-j -paDijou auo oj^j -s^uaujaAouipa^BaaSBBxa ui paqDjim} qjnoui aaj^ 'jpsaaq uajqSiBjjs ojpa|SBnj;s puB -ireqo aaq ui paB/v\aoj pauB3| UELUOM pp aq_L

•asaaqo BJJODU jo dmn[ Eq;im )i pajaAOo aqs os 'Apoojq >(oo| 41 apBiu 6ui||ij aq; ut aonESOJELUO; aqj^ -pasodxa SBM jajuao UISIBJ puB ^Eam aqj PUE

|aj ji |i;un a;E|d aaq uo ||Eq aou aqj ;B pa>jod |aqBSjuaq;o qoBa p /tyuapuadapui saanjsaB snoAJau

ui SUIAOUJ saaSuy ajBd aq; paqojBm |aqBSj uiEqoaqi jo UWB aq) aaAO paano /*\(doii| SE/YV puEq auQ 'Sui>(Bads3Jia/Y\s ji SB paso\ pue pauado mnouu jiaq jo dcS pa^uum'>\iep BV^^ 'nev^D Aa\s\ed am ui sa\uonoui 'ua>\uns jes aqs se}\3Si3v\\B Sxq se A\uo paieaddc

pavuaas J\\.> . l . . ^ ^ \ .

jsooi|B }[aj aoBj aaq JSUIBBB saaBuij S(UEUJOM ppaq; jo qono; aqj^ 'a>{!I J|aj [aqEsj jEqm aas oj tuaqj Buizaanbsrt|duiis aaam aqs ji SB oiaqj paqouid JEBQ EUBJSJ -sjunBjaq SB ABM qSnoj auiss aqj ui }ou jnq '>jaaqD aaq qouid ojpasn aqs 'qsjiBug puBjsaapun j^upjnoD JEBQ EUB(\ asnBoaqjaq qjim pa>(|Bj aaAau psq [aqBSj -A|BJi ui JBAO paip ||B pEq

!xuojg aqj uaas aaAau psq saajsis puB saaqjojq S^BBQ;ng -sai|iujBj -iiaqj ui jsapp aq; qpq aaam rtaqj aouisoj a|qEuosEaa paoiaas qDiqm 'aoiEu jsaij BLUBS aqj

psq qjoq Aaqj, 'SJISIA snoiAaad aaq oioaj aaq paaaquaaoiaapqEsj -s[ano Auiqs aqj qBnoaqj pamoqs d|Eos aaq jo>(uid aqj puB 'ajiqm jo [taA juaaBdsuEaj E SE/V\qEUB(^[ jo Apoq BUUBJS '[iBaj aqj ;ES uaooa aqj ssoaDE

•6ui>)|Ej pauansaa puB paq6nE[ 'puBq aaq paijBdjuny -a|iuas aoaaij E qjim Basp juny oj pauan; pus psaqaaq >(ooqs aaqjoua aaj^ -dn SutpuBjs jnoqjim aaq putqaq ajqEjaqj jjo ajB|d aaq pi|s puB punoaB pajsimj [aqEsj 'jBg 'mouas|a Buiqiauaos Buiqjnoua puB aaq ButqDjBm ||ijs SBM aaqjouaaaj-j -aaqjoua aaq JB >pEq paouB|B puB sduand aaqjB3| juajBdaaq jo dBajs aqj qjBauaapun ji pa>jDnj 'umop pauBa] aqg•Buiuaoua siqj sjqBij aaq jo Sa[ pajsimj auo aqj xij oj paaaqjoqj(upEq pqBsj aouis jooj aaq jo do; uo ApBuBajs dn SuiduanjSEm |aaq aaq aoj aoB|d aqj^ 'jno jqSreajs sBaj aaq >jonjspuE SUUE aaq passoaD pus pip aqs 05 'umop jis asE3[d oj(aqesj o; aBessaua aq; paqjnoua aqs SB a[iius asua; B BuuBam

aqg -aaqjoua aaq JB dn pa>joo| uaqj jno 11 pajjnd 'umopaqg -|oojs jooj |[eujs c puj; oj qjop ajqej at|4 payi/ pue

jo doj uo aje|d jau| jnd aqs 'ajqej aqj q^eaujapun

into their r/i . !iki- hc-ingeaten orat least tasted by an octopus. They petted and stroked herhair, pinched her cheeks, kissed her forehead, encircled herwrists with their fingers, frowned, smiled, hugged and cooedher. Isabel waited. She stood perfectly straight andpretended she was in the nurses' examination room atschool.

Soon the arms of the woman ushered her into anotherroom. It was dark, and a faint smell of sickness mingled withthe cigar smoke. People sat in the over-stuffed furniture.The chairs and couches had been pushed against thestained wallpaper. A half eaten display of silver bowls ofpuddings, platters of cold cuts and old pictured china plateslined with fancy Italian pastries was spread across a lacetable cloth. The thick wooden legs of the table protrudedfrom beneath the white lace. Isabel was given a plate andtwo pairs of hands were quickly transporting spoonfuls ofassorted foods onto it. She held the plate straight armed andwatched the pile grow. Finally, the plate was loaded to theirsatisfaction and the hands patted her head, pinched hercheeks, then left her. She continued holding the plate infront of her as she looked for a place to sit. Her mother wassitting primly on a couch between the two well dressedlumps of flesh known as Uncle Wilbur and Aunt Clara. Hermother was wearing her tan skirt and matching vest. It washer every other Sunday outfit. Isabel loved to touch its softcorduroy. She wanted to snuggle into a tiny circle on her lapand sleep unti it was time to leave, but she knew by the way

.ik'hmij 1

scanned the room for her father. He was perched at theedge of the other couch balancing his plate on top of hisknees. He took turns nodding back and forth at his plate andat the woman next to him. She kept readjusting her sittingposition, pulling her dress down over her knees, and leaningcloser, then further away from Isabel's father as she giggledher way through the conversation.

Her little sister, Jennifer, had found a spot in UncleHenry's lap. He was smoking a cigar and blowing smokerings for her. She was resting comfortably against his soft,bulging stomach, shrieking happily as she poked her fingerthrough the rings.

Uncle Wilbur began calling something in Isabel'sdirection. She stared unbelievingly at him. His arms werestretched out and his palms, facing upwards, kept openingand closing like a huge baby calling for his mother to pickhim up. She tightened her grip on her plate and tried toignore him. The rest of the room seemed undisturbed byhim as they continued their chewing and chattering. Then,Isabel's youngest sister pranced past her and into UncleWilbur's immense open-armed embrace. His white cottonshirt sleeves enclosed her green-pinafored body like thegiant clam she had seen in a Walt Disney movie. Isabel satdown cross-legged where she stood in front of the table. Sheset the plate on the floor and stared at the food. She feltsomeone watching her and glanced around the room. Hereyes met her mother's. They were narrowed and her lipswere pressed tightly against each other again. Isabel stood

•jaAB.1} ajiueaS jnoA jo;snp auj ACME paqsmq j

'peaqaaoj Aui uo saqse Suipuij•|enju }se| B pauuopad ]

aayjjEUJ auojs jnoA Suisstyj•aisijdcq AUJ jo

aajem rtpq aqj SUIBJ;SuoijBanp a;nuiiu ano/v jo qsBm-a;iqm aqj

^nq ;no puy o} saa/fe| Snp aAj(ijaq^Bj paunq rtq

auoS noA aABq aaaq/y\s anoA Aq sjamoy Sui|[ij

poojs Aaqj^•saea; aqj o;

uaasun UB pa>(DiypUBq [EOiuiaqo ano/^

;amb paauojaadsdij a;tqm

•uappiq auaos qjeap•S[aA3[ >(DB|q uo

Apoq Aua jo aouaaajsuBaj

\3A12 JJ^

/// .!/)/ / > / ( ; < • . i n . / / i t - ; p.i/.

• •tched oLit . s f / . i / < ; / i f . U K / s / i R i ' i i n < j . Her palms werepressed flat against the cloth of the chair. Jsabel was amazedat the strength left in Nana Dear's hands. Her mothercomplained that she already had arthritis in her fingers.

Her sister was still laughing at Uncle Wilbur's smokerings, which bothered Isabel. She wanted to touch theslightly transparent skin of Nana Dear's hand, but insteadshe stood watching the eyes that were focused up at her.Then, the hollows of the woman's cheeks moved upwards,forcing more wrinkles around the glassiness of her staringeyes. The hand fell limp and still. Isabel reached forward andfinally touched its pale blueness.

did you icar

he's coming home again.Bob McLaughlin

yes, i know,it's been one long timesince he's been gone,but, yes oh yes oh yes,it's true.

throw open the windows,pull wide the shutters,set those kettles to boiling,get out the fiddle,and maybe seeif we can learnto dance again.

you know, when it comesto thinking(always perilous)it seems i can recallthis feelingsuch as shakes meinto life again:

, ,this \itt\ ch\\whose eyes would glowoh so bold with the courageof simple innocence

and by God, it's a sad thingto reflect on howi forgot this childif forgot this firethat burned so fierce and joyful

but, life is kinder,and it's only wethat's got to learnthat's got to rememberthat the measure of our livesis what we hold clearin our hearts

so, he's coming homeand so are youand so am i.and, you know,it's been a long time,since i let you hearme sayi love you.

s[|a/v\aaej aiaq; pauaeaaos Aaq; ;aaa;s aq; umop pa^jem aqsse pue uaapjiqD aaq pjo; eao|j ,/aorpead aioqo (; .UIOQ,,

•uaa;;ed Added aq; q;im ssaap a;iqm aaquo ;nd aqg -;e[j ateq aaq paqsnaq aqg -ui ;uam aqs uaqj^

(i'uaapiup aq; aaije >foo| (; aaaq(uiAe;s no^ -;qSiuo; aauaoo eqaqg ajHn ou punoa, (ui5ueqi.uie no/^,, 'eac^ o; paBA aq; aioaj paneo aqs jjaiS no^,,

•urea a>(i| pa>joo[;i asnBoaq 'BuiqsBm aaq ui >joo; aqs 'auoS psq aq aa;iy

<(jaoipDJd jioip aaije amoq ag,,•>psq pa||BD aq pue 'aouaasip aq;

oiui Suiduanq; aaam sda;s;ooj siq aa;e| sa;nuiui ma} y •JteqDsiq >peq paqsnd /5]isiou ;ang 'jiaddns siq yo Suiqsiuij

•l|is/v\oput/v\q uo SutaauauiBq apnej^j AzEaQ aBaq ppoo Aaq; }aaa;s

aq; umoQ -aBeqaeB q;i/« paoids ;aip 10 jjauas a>|i|-quao; aq;ui ;q5noaq mopuim aq; qSnoaq; Suidaams pui/v\o ;sn5 \/

•sueaq pa>|eq aq; aoj ;uam ;aag•umop ;es

•ajqe; aq; o; paiquieaos uaapuqo<(jAauoui pooj ano puads ueuiom ;unooou auaos ,ui;;a| ;4uieI (uy 'pooj q;im ajqe; siq; daa>( o; 5utq;AaaAa auop aAj;)

•paeq 5ui/v\onems 'paqsiuy eaoj j•q;op ajqe; paaa^oaqo aq; puiqaq

punoie8uidumq^aas-pue-apiq8uiAe\ pa;ac;s pue ajqe; aq;^ uioij ui uei T.V\e

no/5 ,ui|OOj aq aaq aAeq ;(uom [ pue uaua tq; //D o; yo jjasaaq/v\oqs o; auo aqg -ueuaom poo6-ou auaos aas euuoS no^joS nort Aqm mou>( \; (uioS sj,, -pasiea-jieq uedaones e'aao;s aq; o; >peq aaq q;i/v\p poo;s eao[ j uoo; ay\j;)

(/;q8iuo; aoipead aioqo o; oB pj ;qSnoqj^,•uaqo;t>( aq; jo aa;uao aq; ui A|aAi;e;ipaui poo;s ;ang

•;uiea;saa q;im pappou•uiqo aq; aapun

siq pa^onqo pue 'saAa 5ui|>jaeds pajjoa apqaauuiQ jpeoa ;e( uo S5a ue |ioq pjnoD no/^ <;,/v\ou>j

•a[;siqm euaq; 'euuepueq e q;im peaqaaoj siq padim aj-j -uaqo;i>| aq; ;oaoop uado aq; qSnoaq; auaeo ;ang ;ue;5 e a>[i| Suiaaquanq

•Buiuaddeq Buiq;aoios 's/ie/y\|y•uaais aeo aDijod aq;

10 punos aq; aeaq pjnoo aqs aoue;sip aq; ui aaaqmauaog•aauuip aoj

auaoq aq p|nom ;ang sa;nuiua maj e uj 'aoiaej auiqg saippgpue aauaoD aq; uo ;ucane;say eqaqg a|;;n 3^ u! uo Buiuaoos;qSi| aq; aas pjnoo aqs fie/Yuoop uado aq; qBnoaqj_•ajqe; aq; ;as pue aAO;s aq; uo sued ;nd aqs se a|qe; A;a>jouaq; pue aAo;s aq; uaam;aq paAoua eao| j 'A|pauiuaaa;aQ

•umop aaq;aej sBop jo d\af\; (o; ;dao( ';ambsemsvjoeqs jo moa s;i q;im ;aaa;s pnua 'AaaB aq; pue 'ui ;uamAaq; SB saqoaod aq; uo sda;s;ooj aiaq; aeaq pjnoo aqg

rtui scq j unoj )O aaqjouj aq} sj,,

The Mud Laneby Eloise Haveman

There was the sound of high heels clicking along theuneven brick walk.

For a moment Flora paid no attention, but anyonecould have told that the sound troubled her.

Her wild brush of hair stood up disordered as Medusalocks and her small but muscular black arms struggledwith the clothesline. Her children watched as in their ownyard she attached her means of livelihood to a clothesline —the shirts and underwear of the genteel world.

The clicking heels drew nearer.Wilene was passying by.

Wilene was young, as young as Flora. But Flora alreadyhad the wrinkles of age and Wilene was smooth and yellow,skinned, with cool tyranny in her full lips and a tint of red inher hair. Her crystal glass ea.rings swung as she walked,and her flouncing orange-and-white shirt revealed slim,shapely legs.

Flora hesitated. Then she called out, "That's tinted upred!"

But Wilene's step quickened. "You mine yo ownbusiness, woman!"

"Who's that tellin' me?"Wilene paused. Flora was leaning toward her, over the

fence."I'm tellin' you. You try for every man in this part of

town, but you ain't gettin' my husban'. You leave myhusban' 'lone. I'm warnin' you . . . Today."

Across the mud gray street a screen opened. Thenanother. Neighbors stepping on creaking porches, leanedover dirty window ledges.

Wilene moved away.With sudden flame Flora unclicked the gate and ran after

her shaking a fist."Trash, that's what you are! Trash! I'm the mother of

four an' you best leave my husban' alone. I'm tellin' you!"Flora turned back. She heard the laughter of the

neighbors. Their mouths were opened wide. They held theirsides. Then, silent and burning, she hung up the last piecesof the wash and went indoors.

aqs }Eqm paaaqjES aqg -paq jo jno joS aqg -asnoq st

oj BuioB auB| pniu aqj p jqSnoq} aqs pus 'auojEaqg '}JE;S B qjim paua>jEmB aqs jqSiu aq; jo ajppiuu aq; uj•BuiuaAa aq; p ssau;oq aq; o;ui pauo puB 'SLUJB aaq uo psaqaaq jnd aqs PUB pa|doimD spaom S^BJOIJ jdn • • • jnqg,,

•JIB aqj qSnojqj pa|Sunq apisjno pasui u\f•/^aBBAES BJO|J pauo i (jdn jnqg,,

(l — ^duiEa-tp i 'LUBaap B psq j JjuiB 'jjo }qSi[ ;e(

iqSiu aq; jo paiji.ua} 'paq ui dn Suijjis SEM BJBJ^ 'SJiEjsdnjuam puB 'aoop aqj uado paAoqs aqs Suiuinq puB }ua|ig

•asnoq aaq JBau -laujoo aq; pauanj puBjaaajs aqj uwop juaw aqs SB 'uaq BuiqojEm aiaqj ssm \\?>} aqs||V '3}eS aq} PJBMO; juam puB pauanj aqs 'A.|mo[s 'uaqj jng

aq} }o aoaid B a>(i| poo;s BJO|J juauaouj 5uo| B aoj•p|BS 3AOJB

'uaap|iqD nort t\q OQ,,•a;BS aqj paEMO} BJO|J Buiqsnd SBM aAoaBuoj^j ziw

stq uo Bunq '}.ing o; uea 'pauanj aua]i/y\q aaq jo jou>( aq; ui paoms B a>ji[

>jonjs SBm }j 'uidjBq B pBq aqg 'jiouun; ui SEM pBaq S^

uaq punoJB sauD Bui;sa;oad jo UIBBB [[nj SB/V\B(i-UBUJom '^B/Y\ um ^a^aq no/5,, '}i o^ puaq aaq }nd aqg

•jpq aaq }O jou>( aq} ui But>jDijs uid }Bq e psq aqs;eq; paaaqoiaaiaj aqs pus 'sa^ia s(aua|i/y\i aqs uaqj^

•aaa^ snjauBjic aqj aapun Buuamo|Buiiq ;}aj psq aua[i/y\w DOOJS oq/v\g JB pa>joo| aqg

(aiqoaooad 'ui 08 aqspjnoqg 'Buoam pue }q5u Aq pasnjuoD SBM puiai s(eJO[j

^•aaioq )Jng'uaqj^,, -paBan aq ti^aDijDPJd .uoip jno uio/ noA i.

I I Ai ) A | i u . > t . i . i i | u . i s^ i ' i |)i'i| U

— aaqjiau (UBqsnq Aiu aAa>jEui auioD o; uaap|iqo aaq spajBau aqg,pauiumq jqSiu aqj uaqj PUB 'pauajsi] ajdoad Buno/S

,/aoioq (

ofi a>(B; jo 'ajqaaoBad 'ui aiuoo Bqjia no^i 'suiEi[|i/y\o

aqs ,/p.tErt rtm ui (uijqBij uaoio/v\j ou ;UB/Y\p j,,BuiAjjnq SEM aAoaBuojA] ZIJA]

ij^j qnajsip oj ^UBm r\of\,(<jpuEqsnq (\\u aoj aujED j,,

oB jsnf nortj; 'auaij/y\s ti'(ui>jjB; UBCUUUEJ anoA qjim ^'aoipsad aioqo q-mjsip oj aiuoo no/\,

•jaaajs aqj jo ssau||ps aq; jno azaaaq A[[iqoE puB 'uoijEuiEpxa BuimBJ B q^im JIE aq} ;iq jsnoo] y,,

qj oj apojjs -aua|i/y\gpassiq ^jajaq >)DBq 30103,,

•aua[i/y\o ujaaq piBJj, ^UIB j,,•piss aq i('qBnoua uoos '>(Bads [[,aqg,, -pajJB;s

(J-aaq joB jajjag,, "A^qns aua|i/y\u (i'a/!/Y\A s(ajaqj_;,

•auaji/y\Bpoojs pjsA aqj p jaujoo auo ui aaa; snqjuBjiE 344 Japu/^

•a/doadBunoA" aqj LJJIAI SUIJJPIJD SB/M 'sa/iius ui paq;paj/vi'auajas pup aSjej 'aAOjguoj^/ zip^/ -pjeA JUDJ; ai/j u/ajam sjsanS aqj aaaqm s a/\oj6uoj/y Z.'W

•in- > / . > / < / . •

needed.From the room where the children were asleep came the

sound of a cough. Tara had been coughing. It wasn't gettingbetter. Flora paused at the front door and then, puttingdown the things she had gathered, turned and went back,quietly opening the door to the children's room. She wentover to Tara's cot. In faint moonlight she saw Tara turn onher back and raise her arms over her head as she gaveanother hoarse cough. Flora leaned down quickly to feel herforehead. Then, passing the cots of the slumberers, shepicked up her things and left the house.

Pale moonlight fell on the rutted road with its stretch ofshacks now without any light. Farther on Flora reached themud lane, where the houses were sparsely set and the backyards had chicken coops. Down the lane the houses werestill farther apart and dwindled to a dead end, and grimyfinger reaching into the neglected countryside. At one end adump was filled with cans and gaping automobile parts, andin the distance a fringe of factory stacks rose against a palegreen sky.

Toward the end of the lane was one lighted house wherethe blinds were drawn. Wilene's house.

Flora stood clutching the things she had brought.In the front room of the house, inpenetrable to Flora's

eyes, Wilene was locking the door for the night. Her pinkjacket with a white plastic lapel flower was slung over theshabby sofa.

Burt laughed as he grabbed her arm."Why you lock th' door, with a man around?"

' \ \ . t V . » \ - . . i \* \J i \ » -n* - " N/\ JI*VA arv' rr\ \\\\\ \-n<.»\W"T^ < A\. Alujays \ock my door wY\erv \Vvey 30." SVve stood tot

a moment with her head poised, as though \\stenmg."What is it, girl?""I thought I heard somethin'.""Ain't nobody 'round here.""I feel like somebody lookin' at me.""The devil look at you, girl. You good lookin."At that moment, in the street outside, there was a cry. A

high, tense cry that, to Wilene's ears, sounded supernatural.Wilene peeked through the edge of the blind, then gave a

scream. Burt peered over her shoulder. They could seeFlora standing beneath the window, a tiny, dark fury in themoonlight. At her feet were a pile of old newpapers and abattered oil can and she was trying to light a match. Shecould not see the two persons behind the blind, but she wasaddressing the house.

"Send my husban' outta there or I burn your housedown!"

Like hot sparks her words fell upon the ears beyond theblind. Her cries were likewise heard by the neighbors. Downthe road half-clad figures appeared on stoops, and therewere cries, muttered consultations.

In the sitting room Burt and Wilene faced each other.Wilene's coiling softness suddenly vanished."Go on, get outta my house!"Burt tried to speak, and pointed at his heart."You heard that woman! You think I gonna have my

house burn just cause you in it!"

.taqjaSo} >pEq uiiq jnd puyE jo >pEq aq} uo squamo

sarta uei;uaS qji/v\q pamo||Ojuaoi s(anbeag a>m s;uaaiSejj ojuj

sjuiof d-reqs 5uo| siq paaajui|dsmopuiM ajED aq; jo sse|5 pa|ddu aqj puy

'UUE aapun }a>|seq 'passed p(aq uaqw jeq; 05pueq anort uiqjiM sja>jue|q ui pajpung'Pliqo pa|dduD e a>ji| 'oiaqj a|peao O_L

yss\S ui puno/y\j pjim jo apunq aqj pasca|aj

uioo e paoejd no/"i sjaSuy pa/waqoi pue ca|d ;uaaaqoDui auios paanuianiu

UEIU pajsim} aq; uioajaiu jqSnojq no/i rtEp aqj^

>(uup pus sjucssioao >jeaaq o; jam p,a/y\j uuy

ap 3JB3

"you really care for me, don'you?" flared Burt. "Scndin"me out t' cope with a woman like that. She'll send 'atfirebran' in my face —

Wilene tore at his arm with her nails, and pulled himtoward the door.

Outside someone screamed, "She puttin' oil on herpaper. She gonna set it on fire!"

Burt went to the doorway slowly, and opened it."Flora!" he said, "Here I am. what you want?""You come back home!"Suddenly the silence was broken not by voices but by the

shrillness of a siren a block or two away, closing in on them,piercing the air and moaning to a stop as a car turned intothe opening of the lane, and drew up near the crowd. Twopolicemen got out of the car.

Sudden laughter came from the porch door whereWilene had appeared. "See what you get, woman, meddlin'in people's affairs?" She came down the steps and shook herfist. "This woman gonna set my house on fire!"

Burt glanced at Wilene. The expression on his face wasmasked. He did not look at flora. One of the officers wasapproaching.

Burt's voice rose suddenly, hoarse and uncertain, buteveryone listened because it seemed as though he wasmaking a speech.

"That's Flora," he was saying, and he pointed to his wife."Flora is my only wife." Now his voice grew stronger. Hedid not look at Wilene. "Flora", he argued, "she wasn'tdoin' nothin'. We havin' street cel'bratin'. Flora she lightin'

up a bonfire."The little crowd suddenly took the cue. They took up the

argument murmuring, "That's right!" "Flora she gonna lightbonfire." "She th' mother of four an' those children needher back."

Shaking their heads the officers took notes before theyleft.

From the porches and yards they all watched the patrolcars as it wound out of sight down the lane.

The door slammed at Wilene's house as Burt and Florawent back down the mud lane.

DAVIDBetsy Bates

Your flight aloftleaves me

to pull the seat forward,adjust the rear-view mirror

(which slips)to drive back.The pussywillow patch where we stopped

yesterdayis now an

exploded beige confusionof seedsand tumbleweeds.

The signsthat reminded you offishing luresstill promise storm doors

beer andfirewood-cheap

but thewhitewashed fruitstand has been boarded up,probably by thesweating womananticipatingwinter.

John Marshall

Sand settles in my glass of tea—crusted around the edges where my handgritty from waves filled with sand, the sea:

Whipped-surf pounds the beaches and pushes sand-fragmenting shells and coralsthat lived there, but die, sifted land:

Wind pulls sand-grains from higher dry shoals—shifting them in patterns of ripplesbanking against tall beach grass, in rows:

Rising from sand a crab scuttles—indirectly seeking pools passingto drink between the stones, he tipples:

The water is a cube of glass—motionless and cold, beneath which brownsand lies, in sunlight shimmering brass:

Disturbed, it rises and mixes round—settling back slowly, sandis crusted on the edge of my glass, a frown.

what has all this do do with a girlI write about in stories named Ramona?

wh

splat.

last anyone heard Ramona shehad left, set out for the streets:that was rumored.that's where the fiction starts.you knowI never intended to prophesy her lifein stories

all the people fucked herI dreamed I'd made SWEET love to herbut I never wrote thatinto any piece of tale

AND HER NAME ISN'T RAMONA BUT WHATDOES A NAME MEAN SHIT ANYWAY BITCH LADY

MADAME CUNT A ROSE BY ANY OTHERTHE HEART BEATS THE SAME AND FASTERWHEN YOU

MAKE LOVE AND WHEN YOU YES YOU SHIT ASSTHUMB THRU THE LITTER

—AIRY REVIEW AND BLINKAT AN AVANT-GARDELY TOLD TALE OF ACHICK NAMED

RAMONA WILL YOU KNOW HER?

quit winging it with the feelings, huh?quit wishing all over myself, huh?write some real poetry, huh?

if that's your definition of poetryMr. Artsy O'Stretch,then you can

refrigerate Hellbefore I'll ever

write you a

poem.

ssausnopsuoo rtui ui jsouiaaoj>pi}s p|nom pB auo

s-reart [ooips rtui ||E jo }no uaqjPIP I J!

'Buiqj rtuunj • • •sis A"a||E jood aaos ui

suiBjano>pau

rtui BuiqDjEO pue Suiuuidsaq/feoi jo >peq /iua uo Suijjiq sjqSijj jnoj

uoijisod Suijjis E uijjo jpsAUi

Buiqsnd pue |iea oinrt tuiui nof\e siqj uoaaaq dn 6ui}}is ^noqe Suuapuo/irt aq; s(}i

:aui sa;sem jeqj aoeds pajscm aqj jou s(;iPUE 'aoip[|nj si aAO| oj SuiuaBa]

ai si a5a||oo

||am

aDBds pajBaqjeoo p a^sem snonoidsuoo -q; p a|ppiui aq; ui ajoq Siq }Bqj ;B >(OO[

•5uip|inq siqj ui aaaq }q5u 'ajSB/Y\; aas UED no(\y

paiuBu >piqo [Euoipy siqj ;noqeami} aaaj ftw \\v puads j aaoua

J3AO ||B

ssau[nja;sem (Bppins aq;;noqE AjipuES Suidasq daa>( j

spi>)ajim puB qot JEO /\j_ auioq B jnoqE5uiuuB[d jo

anbedo'auij }i a>[EUj

ui umop pEaq rttu moaanq oj aunp E aui aAiS}o5 nofi 'puss aiuos aui an/S ;snf nort jnq

sdoj 'suiaodaad ^iddos Suijuw jsnf OIB jaq; ut psaq AJA] ;o5 j 05

euouiey

sa|Buiaj apu SA"B/Y\[B o; pauaeaj s(aqs ;eq; uioaj puyspa.iqqSno.ioq} aajq^ }so| f(\uo s^aqs aej 05

;soui aq} -iaq a}pxa sassiiu-jeau aqj^}ioj}3Q aq} }B S>(DBJ; aq} SSO.DVsasaoq saoBJ ,ia}sis .laSunoA"

paa ui

Suoj}s saipoq ZZ 3I!d e pajeajD puypaooaa siq a^oaq aq uoouaaye 3UQ

||ej uiaqj aas UBO no/S sauiijauioguo juo-y ui >j|emapis aq; uo puejs no^i }\3 ui >(UBg [euoijBjvj aq; }Q

doj aq^ jjo ajdoad saqsnd aaqjoaq s\\\d fojS aq; ojuo SuiddUQ

poojq p ;q6is aq} JB a|itus paa B a|iiusqj uajjB[j }i p|Oj ;i puaq }i aaAO [|oy

paa jxau aqj a>)B} puB ;qSi[do}s paa B aagjaq a>(B} 'paa ui uBtuom B aag

luiq o; ((9>[B4,, sueaoi pays}qSt[do}S Sutuunj sAofua aj-f

JOOQ

POEMS OF THEINCONSEQUENTIAL^Eloise Haveman

I screamed -• "I am still alive!"They said."Old Woman, look to the past.""It would be like Lot's wife I would

turn to stone."They said"There is a chronological age,

a lessening. This country, this modern worldYou must look upon it

as They look upon it. It is Reality.(I said Is it?)

"You take your place" They said,The place they have assigned you. Oh, it is well

to be spiritual (we admire that)and to have ideals (we love that)but to fit into our place — that is it.

To fit. Into our place."What is our place?" I asked and they were silent.But I answered in my mind . . .A two by four place with a window looking out

upon a dirty street. No tree. No tree. No treeand people surrounding me in corridorsin cloistered runways between stark buildings;giving up hope they are ghosts.

There are no ideals.There is no spirit.

And the Monitor of God (self-appointed)said (rising up to bless me)

God give you resignation.I said

Are you alive?

The Preacher saidIt is all the same for the animal world and for usit is just that way it is the way. Existence. Things are.There is no way to understand. We must not ask. It isalso wonderful what the human spirit can suffer.In concentration camps.

/ saidThe human spirit is

also capable of depth.Of longings for a

silver stream thatglistens and reflects

The Sun.

Heaven and HellAre hereOn Earth.

To us they come as our creation.They are in your palm.They are in my hands.Thunder itThunder itThunder it.In your palm, in my hands

the tingling ecstaciesthe sobs, the shrieks

the seeing of an arch across the sky. . . pastel

. . . quiescent.

^/feme (mcao o; Sm aq; SuidsEaS pue qDEUJo;s siq o;uoSui(|oa 'uiiq passa.ip aqs SB uumbs ao 'sai.uaq pue rtauoqq;i/Y\u uaAa '|B3J3D uuoaj pBaq siq Suiujn; 'ssnj aq ppioms/fep rtuEui men "apis pUE >pEq siq jo ;eaq ;sioui aq; 8ui>jo.i;s';aiqsaapun pue Aasaaf siq qjcauaq pueq aaq pi[S aqs

•apis o; apisuioaj Bui/ferns anui;uoo o; mau>( aqs 'aea; e >jui|q o; ;noqBsaA"a an|q punoa siq 010.1 j 'umo aaq ao s(qop a^i|un ';aoqsSEM asou siq jo ;sa.o aq; ;B sjBajd ui paaaq;ES \\\)s 'pEaqaaojSJH "SoinS q;oouis uio-uSuiSaauia saSpa p-req mau aq; jaaj o;SUI;UEM '>jaaqD siq paqono; aqs "OHEO ssm aq (i;un ;ja| puB;qSu aq; o; Sui|aAims 'uiiq ppq o; >pEq uaq paqoaB puB SUUEaq; aapun dn oiiq pa^oid aqg 'ucude aaq uo aoinf paa Suidim'uiiq o; /S|^oinb pa>^|Bm aqg -uiojioq aaos B uioaj usqj asiad-ans oioaj aaoui SB/Y\o pa/iBjap aq; ;eq; mau>j qBUUBH•>^DI;S aq; jo jqSiam aq; aoj pamo||B SuiABq jou '/Sjuappns;BS an "SJBa; paua^Baaq; pus aoBj siq pauappaa }Bqj UOI;JGJ-uoo B o;ui Suisuaj ajiuis siq '>joi^s aq; papunod (anuiBg

,/pasBajd AaaA aq }(uom r\of\s B ;a5noA" ji -mou pjaJBO aq jsnf no/^,, uiBqo aq; jo Buna do; aq;uo UJJB uiq; aaq pa;saa aqs <(7|asano^ ;B >(oo| 'pnuiBS,,

•apis s(JiBqD aq; o; sSaj aaq Sunms aqs SB ajiais B rtuapo; ;aoya ai;;ij apsui qsuuBH 'MSB puB >jaBq jo s;uaoiSBaj q;impa;snp SE/V\s saau>i siq o; ;SOUIJB qo;oao siq ;B paSBss sdtqmoaJBu siq punoJB paua;sB; aadBip aqx '-iaq;o aq; JBAO pusqauo q;im 'auBD B spjoq UBUJ e SB poom jo aoaid B Suippqpue ;no ^jiqBijs pauan; jaaj ';jEde sSa| 'poo;s pnujeuoai pjoo aq; apisaq 5ui[pui>i jo ajid aq; o; saA"a ^iqBnoiq 6ueq paiqi e pue punos BuijeaS e 'sBueq

•||aius aiaq; o; aunuiuji ;ou sem aqs anoq UE jjsq B jaye i•;uaos aq; q;im Bui||ams 'q;Eaaq Buo| E >joo; puE oijBd aaqjo apis aq; q;im dsaq B o;ui suia;s aq; paaaq;BB aqs 'psajquaoo jo do; uo ao uiBaao puE aEBns q;im ua;ea sauo aaouij aq;'paujuiEf aq o; sauo yos aq; 'sauaaq aq; Bui;aos pus siua;sBui;sim; jo s^ep uioaj >jDB|q aaam sqoinq; puE saaBuijuaq apisaq joey aq; uo saiaaaq/v\Ba;s jo ;a>pnq E puB •

ajqs; uaqo;i>} aq; ;B ;BS

I

suouiuiig cssijaj^i f\(\M

jo

was impatient to see his mouth, owl-like with cooing, springsuddenly to a wide smile boasting teeth rather than flesh. Inthe past few days his voice often held nasal whines andonly occasionally the squeals and tongued mutterings ex-ploring his skills.

Hannah put her son down and squatted next to him.Samuel reached a flattened palm to her angular nose. Sheshook her head, nuzzling her light mass of hair in his handand then face. He held her knee, large in his hand yet smalland grasped the yellow cotton of her dress. His foreheadwas smooth as she freed a damp wisp of hair from it andworked it in among others.

"Well Samuel, I've got to get some work done. Your papawill come in and we'll only have berries to give him for sup-per."

Hannah kissed his head, squeaking air between her teethand puckered lips. She said "Pooh" with more breath thanvoice into his fine curls and stood. Samuel, allowing her togo and disinterested in the wood, walked to the row ofcrocks and brown jugs along the wall. He fingered the corkof one as Hannah returned to her work.

Sitting, she curved her shoulders and pressed her fore-arms agaisnt her flat abdomen. The vague bloated sorenesswithin couldn't be reached but when it grabbed upward withvein-like tightening, holding her stomach helped. Since shewas fourteen she had questioned why her body ignored thecycle of the moon and fell sporadically into days of littleblood but hours of hugging her knees in bed. Her mother,with large hands, fingernails out to the skin and eyes which

took on every tnrowrv and grecrx of a spruce tree,\3ro\igYrt Vvethoney tea, Hannah \aughed, saying that she didn't have asore throat, quite the opposite. Her mother patted herthigh and told her that a baby would straighten her body out.

Since Samuel's birth she had felt better, her periodspestering her as coffee on an empty stomach or too manyapples. They rarely kept her from throwing together mol-asses, oats and flour on a board, filling the house with a yeastsmell or sitting to work on the braided rug which spreadlike a puddle, seeping under the livingroom chairs. Carry-ing and bearing a child had not been a simple treatment. Shethought of the nights of awaking in bed, pushing her lips intoa pout and consoling herself with full sympathy. Sometimesshifting to ease complaining muscles, she woke Job. Herolled over on his side and placed a warm hand on her belly.

"You allright Hannah?"She nodded not trusting her voice to be steady. He found

her face, ran his hand up the slant of her moist cheek."It's too early to mean anything isn't it?" He pulled him-

self up to sit and kept his hand rubbing slowly back and forthover her tight flesh. Other times he pressed his nose intoher hip. She felt his breath tickle in waves, coming slow andeven as his hand relaxed and fell cupped in her lap.

After hours of sweat, Job wiping her forehead and neckwith damp cloths, Hannah wiping beads from his upper lipand squeezing his arm leaving the skin blotched with red,she secretly concluded that she would die before it ended.The midwife, Ada Chadwick, maintained a moderate, con-stant smile above her concentrating grey eyes. She told

siq 6ui/5pea;s aaq;o aq; pue uao;;oq rtoanpaoo an|q s(p|Kaq; aapun UUB auo q;im >peq auaeo aj-j 'daa|s uaoaj pnuiEgSUIXEOD aoiOA /Y\O[ s(qop o; paua;si| aqg "ajqE; aq; o; aajjoojo auo puc >j[iua jo aaqo;id e 'aaE/vuaA|is pappe qeuuej-j

((-uiaq; aas j,,• aq; uo ;q6u aa^aqj^ 'aapoo 6ui;;aB s(;i <;oo; s>pos

PUB 's;uBd siq Buuq nori p|no3,( -ujiq aayE pa||EO aqg•sa|>(ue siq punojB

papa||OD s>pos siq ';pq siq jo ;soua aaAo A~|duii| SuiBSss;aiqs aiiqm uiq; siq 'uaooa aaq;o aq; paE/YK>; pa>|[Bm qop

l(-uoos;Ea o; BuioB sfaq ji MOU dn Sui;;aS aq ppoqs aq ;nq 'sa/^,,

^daaisE aq sj,,•>pEq

padda;s pus azaanbs ;qSi| B sous aaddn aaq BABS a^ ~a>(BDqou-oo; jo a;iq B aajjB aajjoo 5uoa;s jo dis Suo| B sa>fE; auose A"[daap paqjEaaq aqg -oiBf aq; jo ssau;aams aq; BupB|dsip'aaq oj asoa uoi;Eaidsaad pue ;snp A"eq 'saqse poom jo [jauasuiaem PIJOI y -imp siq ;aaui o; psaqaaoj aaq BuiuB3[ uiiqo; pauanj aqg -saap|noqs aaq uo spuBq s;q pajsaj pUB aaqpuiqaq dn aujBD aq 'qoaod aq; ojuo ;no iuaq; Buiddi|s aa;jy•sjooq siq aAooiaa o) aaAO paqounq pue xayaa jo ;no ajiuisB Buippe 'qBUUBH je pa^ooj a^ 'uiqo siq jo sjieq asjsoojaoqs aq; uioaj paddup pUB mef siq jo aui| ajBnbs aq; paDBJjsdoaQ -sjuiod JB;S >peiq ui aaq^aBo; Buip saqsBprta siqPUB ua}si|S ui>(s paua^aep siq apeai -ia;e/y\a qor> SBpunos oipjaui dreqs B qjim uado pa>foip qo^Bj aoop

au.; uo w\o\\ou. pue fiAeau. \\aj sdaig -

jo 6ui>juEp uaAa aq; paEaq aqg -ajqa; aq; uo ;i ;as PUE pasoqBuiddoqo E uo psaaq sassEjouj pus uiEq paoi|s qEuuB{-j•xBm aBap jo aa/fe] aq; a;iuSi pjnoqs puB EAE| aaam A"aq; ji SB!UUE( ;oq jo sasf aq; pa;Buioin[|i ;q6i[ jo s^Bqg -paa puE a5uEaoqjjm saBpa paaaAas aq; SuiaSuis 'spnop asuap aq; aAEapo; a|55na;s s./fep s;i aaajB paSEUBiu puE /v\o| SEm uns aqj^

'aSBiaaBUJ aaq ;noqB >[|E;p|noD aqs uaoqm q;im uosaad aq; ;ou SE/Y\a aaq ;Eq;pazi[Eaa qBuuEf-j 'spua; aq UUBJ aq; jo azis aq; ao ijmq qopasnoq aq; jo sasread aq; o; ua;sii ;ou p|noo aqg -pafqns aq;paSusqo rt[;aaaDsip puE ssaap aaq paua;qBiEa;s qEuuEj-j

(/moqauaos uaa;srts aiaq;jo ;no ;i ;aS o; aABq riaq; puB uaaas o; fa; A"aq; SE pa;aEaqpaEq SE ;(uaaB uay\ ~uaq; puB mou pa;Ea;snaj ;aS o; UEIUE padxa o; ;o6 df\j\o^ ua^aom paEq B 'pusqsnq pooS E siqop T\of\m j ji uiB|duaoo ;(up[nom j mou^ no^i 'qBuusj-j,,

•s>(aEUJ uaip aq; Buimoqs apisE ssaapaaq pajjnd qeuuBH uaqm q5noq; jjnaB aaiEoaq aqg -;i ;noqEaaq pp; aqs uaqm ^ipAi;ua;;B paua;si| aaq;oui S^BUUE^

ureq aaquj 3DBj siq Buissaad 'uatq o; aaq Buipjoq UEq; aaq;Ba sapB|qaapjnoqs aaq paoaaid i[i;s A"aq; ji SB iaaq pasBapa aq aa;jBspuBq siq jo ;uudiui aq; ;jaj aqg uaq >jooqs pua saappoqsaaq padduB an -piBia puB qsaBq auasoaq saan;Baj uiq;aaq iuaiq ;B paaBjB aqg -saa;jBa aasq aq; UBq; paaoES aaouaBuiq;aujos uo aure|q paijdoii aq 'jiods o; punoaS aq; uo umopureaS jo saqD;ed paoaoj uiEa aa;jE aouQ uaq paBmo; aaaAaspauieuiaa aouciS siq ;nq mopui/v\; ao .jooa aq; uo sdoap aq;

S,H -,

Hannah repeatedly that her hips were narrow that was all;as if Hannah wouldn't understand an answer more complex.She felt angry when Doctor Moser told her not to worryabout her irregularity, angry with Mrs. Chadwick's simpleanswer when she wanted to know what was happening with-in her body; but she never mentioned it to Job or her mother.

The bucket was empty. Hannah waved flies from the twomounds of berries, chose three perfect ones and used -plates as covers. Samuel watched her approach but re-mained squatting, running a cork along the crack of the floorboards. She held out the berries.

"I'll trade you, berries for the cork." She took the corkfrom his loose grasp and wiped it on her apron as he ate thefruit. He reached for one at a time, examining each beforepopping it whole in his mouth. She hoisted him up andlooked at his eyes with long lashes she almost envied. Ashe put his head on her shoulder she felt the line of his noseand warm cheek on her neck.

"Sleepy Samuel." She hummed, carrying him to therocker crib in the living room. Samuel grabbed her hair andpouted drowsily as she laid him down. She loosened hisfingers from the strands and kept his hand in hers, rubbingthe back with her thumb until he closed his eyes. With herother hand, she rearranged a thin knit blanket and combedhis bangs back to the left as if his hair ever submitted to apart. She wanted Job to walk in, find her like this and standover them with his hands on the side of her neck. It was tooearly for him to leave the barn, the barley and corn or whatever axle or bolt occupied him. If he came, he would ask

when supper would be ready too loudly. She would shushhim, look up and ask why he hadn't washed his hands beforetouching her and the dress she had put on clean that day.

Hannah returned to the kitchen and put the bucket andbowls on the table by the window. A large wash basin satone-quarter filled with water soaking mason jars. Using asquare of a shirt with pocket still intact, she scrubbed thelarger table. She worked gradually over the wood until thewhole surface was darkened with wetness. The strawberrystains would take-many washings before camouflaging inthe walnut grain.

The stove was already loaded, leaving only the task oflighting and nurturing a flame, poking the slim sticks andblowing them to sparks. She set the mason jars in a castiron pot, covering them with water, and put it on the stoveLooking over the shelves of jars, squat paper sacks andsmall boxes, she found chunks and paraffin and the crock ofcoarse beet sugar. She grabbed a long handled spoon fromthe wall and went to the berries. She poured sugar overthem, flipping her wrist to make a snake-like trail across thered globular mass.

The sun cast weak light on her work. The shadows wereas undefined as the edges of clouds in the grey-white ex-panse. As she stirred and watched the sugar disappear, shehoped that Job would not continue his morning complaintabout the weather when he came in. She knew that thewheat was a paler green than it should be and that the barleyneeded sun and wind to become firm. She could lament overthe weather as sincerely as he; but when he did she felt his

at( aadeip aqj dn paypid aqg -pniues Su!PI°M -"E ui }BS qof 3.iaqm uioojSuiAi| aq} o}ut }uam

•puiui jaq jo }no }qSi| uaa;uB| jo aoiopaqj uiqjim SuipESj uBq^B^j jo ampid oanasojBiqo aq} puBpuno.iS aq} uioaj dn aajsm aq} ajnssaad Suidtund oiiuq^j aq}}3| aqs -uiSBq aq} |[ijaa o} qoaod aq} ojuo padda}s aqg -ua}Eapus pa>(jom SuiAEq 'mou asnoq siq ui auojE Suiop ssm aq}Eqmjo saSEuii aq}}uaAaad o} pau} aqg uoop >pEq s^uBqjE^jo sda}s uaAa 'Apan}s aq} o} pa| pus paqs [|ELUS B passBd'ssEaS SSOJDB }no }j -sdoao omj jo sureuiaa aqj SuipiAipE ui paiunsaa pus s>po}s ;no Aap jaAo A|qisiAuipado|s 'ppij aaqjouE ojuo pauado }i aaaqm MBS aqg -saAEa(aaqopQ ^R pssinSsip PUE sSo[ pa||Ej Aq passoao 'qsmq joS}a>piq} SuiSpop q}Ed aq} MBS aqs saaa} aq} jo ssau>pE[q aq;uj -spoom aqj oj saaj; aq; p aSpa aq; pa|tBa} saAa jaj_j uaqjoaq} q}im uusajoj aaq jo qsagasooB aq} paqqm puE puEqauo oioaj Susq uiSBq aq} }3] aqg 'ua}Ea pBq pnujBg a[}}i|moq p }qBnoq} puE aABam aq} ut paSpoj sqmmo aq} paqs o}sqSiq} aaq }sujB5E uojdE jaq paddB|j aqg -uoi}B}Dadxa q}imBui[|ij }ED B jo }BOD aq} 9>(i| SUUE aaq jo uiyjs aq} pauaAi|ua A>jsan|q >jsnp aq} jo JIB aqj_ -qojod aqj o} paujn}aa A]mo|s puEsaAsaq om} q}im SSBJS aq} o}uo ja}Em paqso|S 'asnoq aq} joapis aqj o} punoaB pa>(]Em aqg -apis}no aa}B/v\u jo uisEqaq} >|oo} aqs 'saqsip aq} AEME Bui}}nd pus Suiqssm aa}jy

•uiooa aaqjo aq}o} }uam pus jaq uuoaj oiiq >joo} qof -ui>|dEU aaq q}im usapdB[ siq paqsnaq puE aosj sjanoiEg padim qEuuE^I3AO ;i }3B pus qBnojiq} ̂ Eaaq p\nom q}33} siq qsi/v\

•poo}S PUB spueq siq q}im q}noui siq padim '3}E|d A}daiasiq uo >faoj puB 3jiu>j siq }nd A|}dmqB qop i(uaq}oq

„• ' ' >)OBq noA Buuq ||(iU3q aoj uoi}i}adiuo3 AUE si mo|sui/Y\S

>)uiq} },uop ] -}Eq} ABS noA aeaq jsqpiu anoA }3| }IUOQ;;

(/}saq 3q} sABmjB si s^sj-j -a>jEDs(mo|sui/y\[ jo aoaid E >pEq noA Suuq pjnoo j 'uj[^j;)

ii(;asoddns j 00} aaaq} aq ||im aaqpiu jno^ -ssanSI SABmAuE uajp|iqo ^aqp q}im aq o} oiiq JQJ pooB sjj 'noA}JODsa |[im (anujEg •8uuaq}E8 }Eq} o} uo psaqE oB

u-a|i}aaj uoiBp A}}ajd 'pooB uuiEp A}}3jd si aaaq punojBpue] aq} [|E }ng -ajDB }oajaad E SE Suiq} qons ou scajaqj_•3^3q} J3i>jooj si jios aq} }nq 'qB^,, -jaaq qSnoj jo qB|S>)Diq} E 3J3M }i ji SE oiEq aq} paojaid ajiu>| puE >|joj S,qop

a'AEME S3|IOI M3JE }sn( aq UBD pus] sq} }U3J3jjip moq SUIZEUJE s^j 'oiJEq AUBop o} qSnous 6uoj}s }ou }nq 'puim 3^001 s}35 }[ punoaS sq}uo BuiAB) }i jo suou }Eq} piss 3j-i,, '3[Bd 0} s>j33qo ^aq pa|[im3qg i(-3Ui Bui||a} SB/V\S asqBiq uo SJB sdojD si^,,

i(4AEpuns }SB| >|[B} pooS E pBq 3AEq }snoi no/^,,-sapu}s }ua|is Buo| siq ui paAEms SJap|noqs siq Asm 3\\\E pjEsq 'saAa an|q s4UEq}E(vj jo sSEiui sqj paSEjnoDua A|uo

[anuiES }E Buiyjoo"! -a}E[d aaq uo oiaq} }nd pus s}usd siq uioajsjuaiuSBaj aq} pa}D3|[o3 aqg -}JBdE pesjq Bui||nd oiiq qo}Em0} pnuiEg aaAO }uaq aqg ^UEq}BM piES A||En}DE aq pEj-j -dndsus pBaq J3q Bui}}3[ usq} J3q}EJ dnos sjsnujBg joj sdujsa}nuioi o}ui aieq Sutuno snupuoo o} jjasjaq paajoj qEUUEj-j

pue • • •„

back. He sat down at the table, Samuel leaning against hisstomach and elbows and began fumbling with small feet andsocks. Hannah came and squatted by his knees to help.Samuel let them maneuver his limbs but kept his attentionon his tongue working to find saliva.

"He's so warm." Job's hands held Samuel under hisarms, his middle fingers meeting in the hollow of his navel.

"I know; it's because of his teeth." She brushed the palefuzz of eyebrows. Samuel wriggled, arching his back in aneffort to stretch out of sitting. His face tightened in silentpouts. Hannah sang, bumping his feet together on the upbeats and on Job's thighs on the down beat.

"Rolypoly caterpillarinto a corner crept.Spun around himself a blanketThen for a long time slept.Rolypoly caterpillar,Wakening by and by,Found himself with wings of beauty, -Changed to a butterfly!"1

Hannah raised her eyes to meet Job's. His grey-greeneyes had a deciduous softness to them. He caughtthemselves as one notices a selfconscious stranger in hisvision after being lost in an unfocused stare.

Hannah brought vegetable soup to the table and satdown. She served slices of ham, bread and soup and tookSamuel into her lap. Job ate with large methodical bites,chewing each thoroughly as he rested his wrist on the tableand held his fork ready for use. Hannah fed Samual and

herself from different bowls but with the same small spoon.She broke off chunks of bread and let Samuel finger them,very little reaching his mouth. Their laps accumulated moistcrumbs. Job's eyes volleyed between his plate and thewindow.

"It's clearing just in time for the dew.""Well, then it will probably be good tomorrow. At least it

didn't rain today.""Mm. If we get sun tomorrow and the next day . . . The

ground is just so damn water logged and the grain needssun, not more rain; that's certain . . . I've got to get thatfence down soon. It'll probably take another two days or sowhat with the milking and all."

"You'll still have a little free time Sunday won't you? Thewomen will be doing quite a bit of baking for the coffee afterthe service. You heard about it, didn't you?"

"Yes.""I don't know what to make; I guess something with

strawberries. They never last long enough to tire of them.""I don't know. It depends on how the work goes. I'm not

going to have the cows in that small pasture any longer thanI have to. You'll go anyway I suppose; so what does itmatter?"

"You don't want me to go to church?""I didn't say that and don't hand me your piety. You can

pray and read the scriptures right here. You know that's notthe only reason you go."

Hannah pressed her lips against Samuel's head for amoment before looking up. "No, it isn't. Once in a while I

901 'd 'uossinoj aijiuig '..aamoy y 3Ja/V\^ )] z

•Sfr'd -0161 'ss<?w ppyBuudg 'Auediuo3D /0 sSuoS 'uoss|nod

sAep,,9681

'sqjuoiu uaAapjo uos

'3'Buijum paAooaB aq; pauuuaip

ssoui jo «fe| auij e pue aseq sji pa^ueq saAea] pa»eW

uaqjcam puB sacatf mojj juB|s e je pa)Has auojs papunojIieuis e sem apis qyou aqj JBaN -aouasajd aiaq; paAaa o;lie; B Buiyiqs jou suoapiueqo a>ji| a«M sduinjs pa5BBJ puc

had left in a roll on the floor."Hannah, I think he's even hotter now."She felt his face, his neck. "Do you think doctor Moser

would come now? He's been fussing and everything but thefever only started today. I, I kept thinking he would cooldown. She knelt down on one knee, holding Job for balanceand stroked the nap of Samuel's neck.

"Here, take him. I'll go now. Moser will come." Job wentto the kitchen. Hannah listen to him put on his shoes as sherocked Samuel on her chest. He rested his head heavily byher neck but squirmed with restlessness.

Job came to the threshold, putting one hand on the edgeof each wall. "I wish you told me before that he's had thisfever all day. I'll be back." The turned and walked out, hissteps pounding the floor as quickly as the pounding rushedup from Hannah's chest to her head.

Samual wimpered at the slam of the door. She walkedwith him until he was quiet. She felt his drool and wrappedher arms to support his legs more closely to her. What wassaid at dinner ran through her mind seeming as painfullysenseless as bringing in the wash when heaps of gatheredbarley lay in the fields at the breaking of a thunder storm.Other children become feverish while they teethe; but thethought failed to keep tears from traveling down her cheek,dispersing in the sweat of Samuel's scalp.

Samuel was no longer restless but kept one arm firmlyaround her neck, his fist gripping her dress. She sat down,laid him in her lap and wiped his face with the back side ofher apron. Samuel watched her, not pouting or smiling; but

calmly looking up at her. She rocked as her voice quiveredin a whispered song.

"If you were a flowerand I were a showerOr even the dripping wet dewI'd go to your bowerTo seek you, my flower,And there wash yourwee face for you.Let's play you're a flower,That I've caught in a showerOr gathered a bowl full of dew,That here in your bowerI've found you, my flower,And now wash yourwee face for you."2

When Job and Doctor Moser entered, Hannahcontinued rocking. She heard the kitchen door, steps andmuted voices. Job appeared in the doorway, anchoredthere by Hannah's austere glare as she held Samuel, stillwarm in her arms.

The field climped sharply up from the creek then lolled inplateaus of bleached corn stalks. It stretched onwardenveloping an island of young trees and underbrushcovering and surrounding a small knoll, a protrusion in thelevel ground. Low leaning stones among the pricker bushes

The editors wish to thank everyonewho has contributed to this issue of Exile.

Submissions are now being accepted forthe Spring 79 issue. When given a voice,

use it!

II

X% >M*K 1I <t««£"I**iii

•%,

! V V.I X, **HV X.5

St

I%

\s*~***/>•"*%sSwo/U >s^S* ^r'"t**3^^ * ^iXl /^ ^Wjjll ^

S- \ s*,•̂ ^ **-X

>*\ %

s/»rw »'«*

«•»̂

i

fe

4it* »i s2 *

i««M esi

"\