36 Week Jam Session

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  The second dare consisted of Norma singing a song in fake Chinese and asking her friends to sing along. Hilarity ensued.

  The third dare was harder and serious. She had to tell her parents she loved them.

  “Mom, Dad...I...love you. I love you!! Thank you for all you’ve done for me!” She hugged them.

  “Oh, we love you, too!”

  “I know I haven’t told you that in a long time!”

  Norma felt a hand on her shoulder,

  “Hey, dare yourself from time to time!”

  And Mary departed.

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  Songs From iPods

  I’m Bridget Snowe and I’ve just gotten up from the cold-as-the-ocean pavement in good old NYC. No, I wasn’t knocked down or anything, that was my bed. Yes, I’m one of those…never thought I’d be, but, what can you do? I wasn’t the kind to beg, in fact, I thought begging was the lowest of lows in human actions, but now…but now, what can I do? ‘Till I get a job I’ll have to…dare I say it, beg.

  Right now, I’m walking the streets, looking at all the knock-off Louie Vuitton bags and laughing to myself because I’m so poor I can’t even afford a knock-off! Ha! Oh well, besides, I can’t get a bag until I get a job. And in this economy, who knows if they’ll be one available? It’s going to be harder than it used to be. I gotta get out of here, I can’t let everyone see me cry.

  But wait, what’s that? Oh, just someone singing…no wait, what’s she singing?

  “Please remind me you're always with me. Solidify that and I will never fail."

  Man, what a beautiful song she’s listening to! Oh wait a sec, some other girl is singing something else!

  "Home, GPS, point me home. Point me to my heart. Oh, I just wanna go where my heart is and that is home. GPS, there's no way you can fail me now because my home is inside me."

  People are seeing me cry as hard as ever and I don’t care a bit. I’m too busy concentrating on the hope.

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  Brotherhood of Man

  I was getting ready for bed, or ground rather. It wasn’t super comfy, but I slept on it for so long that it was an “acquired feeling”. So I was just about to doze off when I saw this young man, probably ten years old, gazing at me with the saddest indigo eyes ever. That look smashed my heart and I just couldn’t ignore him. I asked him his name, he said Matthew, and I asked him if he would like to have half of my blanket. He said yes. So I tore off half my blanket and gave it to him. He quietly said “thank you, sir” and started to walk away when I called after him; I took some peanut butter crackers out of my pocket. They weren’t much, but I just wanted the kid to have a snack, you know? He took them from me as his eyes got sadder; the indigo color in his eyes seemed to turn royal-blue. He said I looked like his father. He told me he had parents, but they passed years ago, and the relatives he did have were very old. Even though he was placed in an orphanage, the owners were mean to him, so he escaped. He then walked away with another “thank you, sir”.

  I never did see Matthew again after that. I have no idea where he is, what he’s doing, whether he got put into another orphanage. But I do know these things: a child should never experience hatred towards them, and those eyes will haunt me forever.

  Do they haunt you?

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  Love: the Other Best Medicine

  I was standing by the drug store; I had the treasure in my hand, ready to swallow. I looked around, making sure no one was there, and then I took six downers. Looking around again, I was just about to pop in six more of the pills when I saw my sister.

  Moira was laughing at one of Jess’s jokes again. I walked behind a car; I couldn’t let myself ruin Moira’s fun. But, unfortunately, she knew my walk.

  “Karen!! Hi!”

  Oh no.

  “Hey, wait up!”

  So I reluctantly did, while slipping the loot in my pocket.

  “Hi sis! Wanna join Jess, Milli, and I? We’re going to the…what’s wrong?”

  I had gotten a reaction from the pills.

  “Hey girl, what’s---Jess, Milli, you guys go ahead. What’s wrong Karen?”

  I hesitantly reached into my pocket and gave her the pills; then I attempted to walk away. But, of course, Moira wouldn’t have that.

  “Hey, Karen, I would miss you if you slipped away.”

  And like a snap of fingers, a fountain plummeted down my eyes. “I’m sorry.” Moira gave me a hug and took me home. Oh, by the way, the garbage fell out of her fingers as she hugged me and never did I take them again.

  And you wanna know why I never took them again? Moira has an air about her that is so respectful and loving beyond words. She believes deep in her heart that every human being needs to be loved, and not judged. If someone were to rob her future toy store, she would call the police, but not before trying to have some compassion towards the robber. She felt that, if she could talk with him, he would change his mind. I know, strange, but…

  That’s just beautiful Moira.

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  The Passing Story

  She’d just fainted after hearing the stirring alarm go off and the host saying, “You just won a million dollars!” Dora Manfred just went on that game show to test her smarts and have fun; never in a million years did she expect to win the same amount of money.

  After that embarrassing moment, and after she got home, she started worrying about what to do with her new check. She wasn’t the type to spend a lot and her family was already billionaires (before the game show, Dora was the odd one out). Her friends were avoiding her because she wasn’t a big spender. She then thought about all the people in her neighborhood, especially this one young, single mom with five children. Dora knew the lady quite well because she would babysit the kids once a week, or more, if the woman wasn’t well. So Dora decided to give some of her money to the woman.

  After receiving part of the money, the young mom wanted to set an example for her kids, so she took some of the money and gave it to her younger brother, who was in college.

  Her brother, who only really needed a little bit, gave the rest to his aunt who was struggling to find another job.

  The aunt, who took all she needed, gave the rest to her dad, but instead, by a mail error, it got to her stingy sister Marjane.

  Marjane was an entrepreneur making thousands of dollars and now she got the precious leftover money. She was ecstatic! No one could get that money out of her hands.

  Someone did manage to take it though, her grandmother. Though, the grandmother didn’t need it at all, so she passed it on to her friend; her friend passed it on to her son, he passed it on to his sister-in-law, and the sister-in-law passed it on to her friend’s sister in Africa. The sister in Africa used it with her own family and everyone in her area.

  So, if you’re on a game show, and you win big bucks, spread it! Hey, you never know.

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  Possessed!

  If you ever were my sister’s friend, you would’ve heard on and on that she never got what she wanted in life. And really, she didn’t; I ended up getting everything in the family. And now I’m really guilty about it…but enough about me, more about Lisbie, who died three days ago.

  One unforgettable day, I was doing homework, and I must’ve fallen asleep, ‘cause I don’t remember a thing that went on, and I got a note from my dead sister telling me what happened. Apparently, Lisbie went in my body and told Dad she wanted a Tony Hawk skateboard. Dad thought it was weird, ‘cause I wasn’t in to Tony Hawk or skateboards, but we were soon enough at the skate shop. I, er, she bought a board with “TH” spray painted on the front and “360 Maker” on the back. The next thing that allegedly happened, she was doing 360s, airwalks, grinds, grabs…whatever trick you could name, she was doing it. She was free, she was exhilarated, and joyful tears of hers ran down my face.

 
After the run, I walked back to my room, and facing my English book, I woke up. I saw the note…and the skateboard next to the desk. At the bottom of the note, she wrote, “Thanks for a SICK afternoon, bro! Love ya! Lisbie” Thanks…I had no choice!! Well, it served me right, with me having everything and all. So I learned my lesson right there and decided to give more to others. Before I went back to my homework, I looked up at the ceiling,

  “Lisbie, if you’re listening, you’re welcome.”

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  Like That Commercial

  I was lying in my hospital bed watching TV and one of those MasterCard commercials came on. Click! I turned off the TV; there was nothing on…as usual.

  I’m 18, I have breast cancer and it spread throughout my body ‘cause the stupid tests never worked out. So, I am lying here, thinking about what to think about while wishing they’d come up with a cure already!

  Suddenly, my crazed entertainer, er sister, whirls through the room to do her shtick. Boy, she’s a trip.

  “Howdy you doing, girl??” I’m not in the mood to give her the satisfaction of me laughing.

  “Good.”

  “Aw, I can’t hear you!!”

  “Good!” I say a bit louder. Maybe if I say it again loud enough, she’ll go deaf and blow away. But, I’m not that mean, just bored and annoyed. I let her go on.

  “You’re good, I’m good, that’s super! You thought I was gonna say good again, didn’t ya?”

  “Nope. Just kidding.”

  “So, how ‘bout some improvisation?? So…ooh, commercials! Commercials are free-loaders; they take up space, and they ask you to buy stuff you don’t need…”

  Despite myself, the corners of my mouth turned upwards.

  “…Like the Shoes Under thingy.”

  That did it. I actually grinned. I don’t have that many shoes to buy a Shoes Under that stores two dozen whatever shoes.

  “And speaking of shoes, they’re angry at you ‘cause you won’t buy them! They’re going, ‘I’m not going to be sold to anyone but Casey-Lily!’ Yesterday I went to buy a pair and the sneakers slapped my hand and said, ‘You’re not Casey-Lily!”

  What do you know? I started to laugh.

  “Which is weird ‘cause sneakers can’t talk or slap hands. So, I told them they were nuts and I got pulled out of the mall for talking to sneakers. On the way out I swear I heard them say, ‘Talking to sneakers like us? Who’s the nuts one now?’”

  I laughed again.

  “The end!”

  I applauded.

  Hospital bill: rises as you go. The intangible gift of your sister trying to help you feel better: priceless.

  There are some things money can’t buy, for everything else, there’s that special place in your heart.

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  Mask of Evil and Good

  It was a quiet Saturday evening, I was the typical big brother trying to play a joke on my sister, Dorena. We were both so young, she was five and I was eight. The week before Halloween I was just trying to get her to laugh, partly because she was sick, and partly because of my own selfish want to get a rise out of her. I put on my trusty witch mask (complete with fake oozing blood). I snuck up and grabbed her. She gasped, looked at me, then fell on the ground a moment later. Mom came running in shortly afterwards.

  “Dorena! Can you hear me??” She couldn’t, she’d gone into cardiac arrest.

  A few hours in the hospital and the doctor said she would not live. Mom and I went to her room, Mom said a few things to her and then it was my turn.

  “I’m sorry Dor-Dor,” an affectionate nickname, “It was only a joke.” Then, she woke up,

  “I know; I forgive you. Paint that mask yellow, Mikey.” And with that, she passed.

  I didn’t know what she meant until I turned eighteen. I was working at a day camp the week before, yes, Halloween, when I came home and started decorating the house. I found the mask sitting in the box of other Halloween things. I picked it up, feeling the rough wrinkles of the witch’s face. And then I had an idea.

  The next morning during camp, I told the director I had something to present to the kids. The director grabbed a microphone,

  “Mr. Rolvoy would like to have your attention. Attention please! Thank you.” He handed the mic to me, and I put on the mask. What followed was technically for Dorena.

  “Hiya kids!!” I exclaimed in a Barney-the-Dinosaur voice.

  “I’m Witchy Rich Witch! Hey, try saying that five times fast!” All the kids started laughing.

  “I’m not scary at all! I’m a dancing witch! See?” I made a fool of myself by dancing, which brought more laughter, so I wasn’t bummed that I danced like a de-headed chicken would if in flippers.

  “So, if you see a bumbling witch flying around, don’t say,” I changed my tone to a high-pitch, “’Gee, here’s a registration form for dance lessons.’” That got a fantastic response.

  “You’ll totally be turned into a hedgehog or something random like that. Thank you so much!” As I left the stage, I thought:

  I cannot take you back, I cannot take back what I did, but I painted the mask yellow...

  My love.

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  In First-Insect

  It was a hot July day at some pool or whatever it’s called. I am a lone, black-widow spider; I’m armed, dangerous, and...just checking out the wavy stuff humans call water. Since I’d rather not take a dive, I scurry along the rough gray pavement looking for someplace that’ll stop burning me. As I make my way, I see young and old humans swimming and playing around, I can also see the bright, light blue sky and the sun that I’m trying to avoid. I finally see a place where I can rest; I climb up, under, then across, and then I’m standing upside down. After a few moments of assurance that all is safe, I start to make a web.

  But, this is not the end; indeed, something has to go terribly wrong:

  A young girl sits on the chair and I’m under the arm of the chair. I hear her gab on to her friend for a while...when I see her hand get close to my resting spot.

  And closer.

  And closer.

  I react on instinct.

  I can’t say I feel sorry for the girl who’s squirming on the ground, clutching her hand, and desperately trying to breathe. I can’t say whether what I did was wrong or right.

  But I can say I’m sorry for not feeling sorry.

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  Dark and Sunny

  Sunny Verandez was always the happy, well-balanced teenager. She worked hard and played hard; she knew that life was both a trash bin and a diamond mine. Well, one of her friends innocently told her about a hot up-and-coming band called CinNick. Sunny checked them out and shortly plugged a few of their songs into her Zune mp3 player.

  Their songs had amazing guitar riffs, unbelievable drum beats, and deep vocals from Chad "C" Lerner and Nicole Simon, so, Sunny went from merely listening to them to going to their concerts. At the concert, she wore a yellow shirt with green jeans, but when she looked around, all the other teens were wearing black. Even though she thought it was odd, she quickly turned her attention to the band, the music, and the screaming crowd.

  After two concerts, 5,000 listens, and buying their two new albums, Sunny began to feel a bit down. Every time her mother did something nice for her, she questioned her mother's motives. And then, with suspicion, she actually asked her violin-playing friends why they were gonna go do a small benefit concert for cancer research. She eventually started thinking that that 'trash bin part of life" was filled with broken dreams, selfish people, hopeful projects that were never finished, and that most people are depressed and only put on a smile for the happy-go-lucky people's enjoyment. She also thought the "diamond mine part" was a sham.

  As it was, Sunny became a cynic at a young age, an age where people are expected to get good grades in school and flirt with the opposite sex. An age where people th
ink many things are amusing. An age where people feel free and energized.

  But with Sunny, all that was gone.

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  The Red Evidence

  The Burr family was in family court, and I, the mother’s sister, was asked to testify regarding case happenings for our other family members.

  Mary Burr was sitting with her social worker, Bree MacMann, while her parents, Michael and Dana, sat on the far end of the waiting area. The judge called the case in session and Michael, Dana and the social worker walked into the courtroom.

  Bree submitted her court report and then spoke, explaining how Michael and Dana beat sixteen-year-old Mary repeatedly on her back. After the judge asked why, her parents said Mary wouldn’t listen to them, wouldn’t sit still, and yelled at them a lot. Also, after weeks of not getting her homework done on time, that’s when the beatings started. The judge directed the bailiff to have Mary to come into the courtroom so she could testify. The judge asked her why she was disobeying and she said she didn’t know. She had little control of her actions. Then, before the judge went to her chamber, he asked for evidence. The attorney for the prosecution showed pictures of Mary’s back; which was horribly stained with large red blotches and two bruises.

  The judge came back with his decision.

  “First off, I would like to tell you two that your daughter may have ADHD or another illness similar to that.”

  Dana and Michael went pale.

  “And, I recommend that you take your child to a doctor. Also, I recommend you get family counseling. Case dismissed.”

  The parents’ faces turned red as they left the court room with their daughter. They loved Mary more than anyone, but they were just a bit ignorant. Now that ignorance was replaced with bitter embarrassment.