It was a dark and stormy night in London. So thank God this story begins in a small Virginia town, where it was in fact a stark and dormy night. Cooper Glasgow, Coop to her friends, was settling into her new university accommodation, and had yet to put in posters, personal belongings, or, indeed, furniture. According to her catalogue, the dorm was supposed to have (at the very least) two beds, two desks, two chairs, two wardrobes, two dressers, and a “two-in-one unit”, which seemed to be a microwave and refrigerator combined. However, Cooper’s room was devoid of everything but one wardrobe and one dresser. She wanted to ask her mother if there was some mistake, but her mother was already gone, having dropped Cooper and all of her worldly possessions off and gone back to the hotel room to take a nap before making the long drive out to South Carolina with Cooper’s brother. Instead, she considered seeking out the R.A. before she became aware of another presence in the doorway.
Cooper turned to discover a girl about her own age with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a definite pout on her pretty features. “Uh…are you my roommate?” Cooper ventured.
“No, you are my roommate,” the girl answered. Her voice was decidedly upper class, devoid of courtesy, and there was no mistaking the contempt. “I am Alyshia St. Joseph.”
“Nice to meet you,” Cooper said, even though it wasn’t at all. “Cooper Glasgow.” She looked around the room again. “I’m glad you’re here. I was going to call Res Life or go hunt down our R.A. or something, but I don’t have a cell phone and—”
“You don’t have a cell phone?” Alyshia said with derision. “I thought everyone had a cell phone nowadays.”
“I don’t,” Cooper shot back at her. “I don’t want one, either. Anyway, I was going to go call someone, but I wasn’t sure who to call anyway. Someone seems to have absconded with the furniture.”
Alyshia’s eyes widened at the word absconded, and Cooper had to fight back a grin. It wasn’t like she couldn’t have just said Someone stole our furniture, but she was fond of big words, always had been. Alyshia shook it off, however, and said, “You mean all that dreadful furniture that was in here before? I had it dragged out of here.”
“What?!”
“It was a disgrace. Not fit to be seen. My father will be bringing my proper furniture in a minute.” Alyshia narrowed her eyes at Cooper. “I wrote to you this summer and told you to make sure you brought your bed.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. Your address was in my packet. Not your name, for some reason, but…”
“I never got a letter, from you or anyone else, telling me to bring my bed,” Cooper said hotly. “And if I had, I wouldn’t have done so.”
“Is there a problem in here, girls?”
Cooper and Alyshia both turned to find a tall girl wearing a Blue Ridge University polo shirt and carrying a clipboard. “I’m Virginia Rickey, your R.A.,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. “Call me Gin.” She looked around the room in surprise. “What happened to all your furniture? I swear it was here when I checked yesterday…”
“Oh, all that rubbish?” Alyshia smiled sweetly. “I wrote to Residence Life and told them I would be bringing my own furniture. I’m very aesthetic, you know, and I simply cannot sleep surrounded by such disgusting furniture.”
“Heaven help me,” Gin muttered. She flipped the page and studied a sheet. “Uh, are you Alyshia or Sofia?”
“Sofia?” Cooper and Alyshia echoed in surprised unison.
“Yeah. I have here, Room 219, Alyshia St. Joseph and Sofia Ahlgren.”
“Uh, my name is Cooper. Cooper Glasgow,” Cooper corrected the R.A.
“Glasgow?” Gin flipped through her pages. “Oh, honey, you’re in 229.”
Cooper groaned. “Res Life told me I was in 219. They even gave me a key.”
Gin grinned. “This happens all the time. My freshman year, they sent me to Appalachian 237. Took me forever to figure out I was supposed to be in Allegheny 207. Come on, Cooper, let’s go get you sorted out.” Turning to Alyshia, she added, “And—Alyshia, is it? Get all this furniture back in here on the double. I don’t care if you bring in your own bed, but the furniture that the room came with has to stay here. Got it?”
“Yes,” Alyshia grumbled. She glared at Cooper. “How could you have been so stupid as not to check to make sure Residence Life had given you the right room?”
“Gee, I dunno,” Cooper said, annoyed. “Maybe I was a little distracted by the fact that my brother was crying.” Before Alyshia could say anything else, Cooper had shoved her stack of boxes out of the room and followed Gin off to the Residence Life office.
The muddle didn’t take very long to sort out. Sofia Ahlgren—whoever the heck she was—hadn’t shown up yet, so Cooper’s key was still in the office. Cooper traded the key to 219 for the key to 229 and hoped very much that Sofia Ahlgren was able to stand up to the snot Alyshia St. Joseph.
Gin held the door to Catskill open for her. “Where are your parents, Cooper?” Gin asked her.
Cooper shrugged. “Mom had to go down to South Carolina tonight…my brother has to go spend the last week of summer with my dad. My folks are divorced, and he lives down there.”
Cooper was surprised and pleased when Gin helped her shove the mountain of boxes and bags down the hall to 229, then went off to make sure that Alyshia had done as she requested. Cooper pulled out the key card and started to open the door when it was suddenly yanked open from the inside.
First Annual National Ribbon Convention to Take Place By Tania Seros
DENVER, COLORADO - The First Annual National Ribbon Convention will take place at the Colorado Convention Center on December 5, 2009, it was announced in a press conference today.
Howard Piknell, who is in charge of the convention, explains that the convention will be an informative, but social, gathering of anyone who considers themselves part of one of the many “ribbon movements” that exist in the world today. The purpose of the convention will be to educate and support anyone who feels they have need of the event.
“I have always proudly worn the red ribbon in honor of my brother,” who died of AIDS in 1989, Piknell adds. “People would ask me what it means and half the time I didn’t know what to tell them. I want this convention to help other people be able to answer that question.”
Hank White, who is co-organizing the event with Piknell, agrees wholeheartedly.
“It could change your life, rest assured,” he says of the event.
According to White, the convention will serve to support the families of the victims of such causes as AIDS, breast cancer, school violence, mental disease, and SIDS. Other events will be to support the survivors of such diseases, especially those who feel what is commonly termed “survivor’s guilt.”
“People blame themselves for living when others die,” White explains. “We want to help them see that it’s not their fault, that they lived for a reason.”
The convention will also include information for activists who may not be victims or families of victims, but who nevertheless want to support a cause. This group will also include people with “victimless” ribbons, such as the yellow ribbon to support the troops or the black-and-white ribbon for racism. A fourth group will consist mainly of schoolchildren, from elementary to high school age, and will include specific information about activism in the classroom.
“Children need to learn these things,” Piknell opines.
In addition to several seminars, two full meals, and a dance late in the evening, a keynote speech is planned for midway through the day. Piknell was pleased to announce that the keynote speaker will be Alyson Endicott, author of five books—The Dark Side of the Screwdriver, Death By Gazebo, The Questions of My Life, Fast Hands Gather Precious, and her latest novel, The King Is Dead, Long Live the Stableboy!
“She [Endicott] called and asked to attend the convention,” says White. “Naturally we were thrilled to offer her a spot as our keynote speaker. She agreed almost immediately. We’re so excited to have her.”
When asked about his expectations for the event, Piknell confidently predicts attendance to be somewhere around one thousand people.
“It’s not as popular as some of the other things people hold conventions for, like books and comics and TV shows,” he admits. “But it ought to be a good convention just the same.”
Registration for the convention opens Friday at noon. Cost is $45 for Groups 1 and 2 (survivors and families), $35 for Group 3 (activists and supporters of so-called “victimless” causes such as patriotism and supporting the troops), and $20 for Group 4 (students). Children under five years of age get in for free.
-Tania Seros is the events correspondent for this paper. She can be reached at tiseros@yamglue.mmm
Excerpt from Spiral-Bound Duck
Flag Under Glass
To my sweet little sister: This letter I write
As I huddle down here in the trenches tonight.
The mortars are silent, but I cannot sleep,
So while my mates slumber, night’s vigil I keep.
The Huns are approaching. I hear them nearby
Across No Man’s Land ‘neath the dark midnight sky.
The war’s getting closer and somehow I guess
I must tell you of what I have done in this mess.
I killed a man in that fight. This much is true
But the circumstances were not what I told you.
He was not a Hun and he was not their friend
And he was not my foe. He was one of my men.
I did not intend to. His death was not planned,
But the bullet that killed him did spring from my hand.
He was running in front and I fired from behind.
That he might get caught never once crossed my mind.
The letter to family was so hard to write.
We lied and said he was killed during the fight
By a harsh German bullet. The truth we all know:
He was killed by a friend rather than by a foe.
I confessed to my captain, but he just shook his head—
Not the worry who shot him, just the fact that he’s dead
Was what he had expected. On our Canada’s shore
My crime would be murder, but here…it’s just war.
Of other atrocities, let me just say
That what once was horrific is now everyday.
The “horrors of war” are like nothing to me
Compared to the sufferings all ‘round I see.
So many have suffered and so many died
I couldn’t mourn all of them even if I tried.
I think that my trench-mate has put it the best:
The “Piper” has come and he “piped them all West”.
Tell Nan not to worry—I’m glad that I came—
And when I charge, all that I think is her name.
Somehow, as I ready myself for the fight,
I can see her blue eyes very clearly tonight.
Tell Mother and Father I love them a lot—
I’d write them, but that’d take time I’ve not got.
And our dear brother Andrew who’s longing to come…
Well, before he can get here the war will be done.
Still, I know that he’s anxious and wants to be here,
But all that I have seen has made one thing quite clear:
I know it’s advice that he’s going to hate,
But he’s only sixteen. Tell him he’d better wait.
This isn’t a game, Drew. I couldn’t have stayed,
But you can, and you must. It’s for you I’m afraid.
I’ve seen fellows who lied just to get to the front
Just to go home in boxes. That’s not what you want.
Give Nan and Mother a hug and a kiss
Say this letter’s for them, too, when you show them this.
But don’t show them this part, Jill—don’t make them scared—
But I have to tell someone. It’s best you’re prepared.
I can’t quite explain it, but watching tonight
I thought I saw people in the fading light.
A long line of boys wearing khaki and green,
And I realized that it was the dead I had seen.
At their head was the Piper, resplendent in grey.
He played on his pipes and looked over my way
And I saw myself out there. I was in that line.
I know I was with them. Tomorrow’s my time.
I’m not coming home, Jill. I realize that now.
I’m dying tomorrow. I just don’t know how.
I’m sure I can guess that I’ll die in the fight,
But from all that I’ve seen, that just may not be right.
Still I’m piping off West ere the battle is done.
I don’t want you to grieve for me. They haven’t won.
Coming back to you safely was all I have prayed,
But knowing I won’t be, I’m still not afraid.
I know the delays in transporting the post
Will mean you won’t see this for two months at most.
I’m positive that when you heard that I’d died
You locked yourself up in your room and you cried,
But your crying is done now. Please dry your tears
And stay faithful to Canada throughout the years.
It’s for her I’m fighting—for her and for you
And for all of the sisters so steadfast and true.
Remember to laugh, Jill. The world needs your smile—
Especially mother, at least for a while—
And I’d hate to believe that your sunlight was lost
Because of my death. That is too great a cost.
I know there are sorrows you always will bear,
But don’t forget all those who need you out there.
If you don’t forget me, I’ll always live on.
And so, Jill, goodnight. We go over at dawn.
SPECIAL PREVIEW: Excerpt from He Wore a Pair of Silver Wings:
“And you’re sure big things are coming my way soon?”
Yeah, like a truck, thought the young woman in the gypsy scarf. But she kept her face expressionless. “That’s what it says in the cards, sir. The Six of Wands and the Six of Pentacles indicate a promotion or financial increase.”
“Hot dog!” The client, a man in his middle years, pumped a fist in the air, dropped what looked like a twenty-dollar bill into the tip jar, and left the caravan.
“Tourists,” muttered the gypsy, gathering her cards and shuffling them lightly to clear them of the man’s energy. Fortunately, it was a slow time of day—most of the visitors to the fairgrounds didn’t show up until around noon, and usually her caravan was empty until closer to two. She was only one of ten fortune-tellers at this particular fairgrounds, but she knew her cards and was better than most.
The sign over the cloth doorway read CASSANDRA DELPHI – TAROT READINGS, but her real name was Hecate Ruya, chosen by parents she considered patently insane. Those few patrons who addressed her by name—most just asked their questions—called her Madame Cassandra. People new to the fairgrounds called her Cass or Cassie, and she let most people think that was her name. Only her true friends called her Catie.
Shuffling done, Catie leaned over and depressed a small button, cunningly disguised as the tooth of one of the carvings on the wall. When a client stepped over the threshold, the tooth would snap down and the half-door of the caravan would shut and lock one way. When the patron left, she would reset the tooth and the door would stay open until the next person came in.
A slight rustling from behind reached Catie’s ears. Without turning, she called, “Robin, what do you want?”
“How’d you know I was here?” A young boy, not more than eight or nine, with patched canvas pants and a simple shirt, appeared in the main part of the caravan.
Catie smiled at him. “In the first place, I heard the door shut in the back. In the second place, I know the sound of your feet. In the third place, I could sense you trying to be very quiet. Most people who bother me just barge in.”
“Am I bothering you?” Robin looked up at her anxiously, blue eyes wide.
Catie’s heart went out to him. He was really too young to be here. “No, of course not, Robbie. What was it you wanted to ask me?”
“Would you do a reading for me?”
Catie hesitated. She usually resisted doing readings for her co-workers, especially the young ones. She really wasn’t supposed to do readings for anyone under eighteen without the parents’ permission anyway, but this was a little different. Robin wasn’t quite able to ask his parents for permission.
“Why do you want a reading? Do you have a question?” she finally asked.
Robin nodded. “I want to know about my mom and dad.”
Catie bit her lip, then sighed. “Okay, Robin. Sit right there, okay?”
She pushed the tooth again, locking the two of them in the cabin. Usually before a reading she did some mystical mumbo-jumbo, said a few magic words that she made up on the spot, burned some incense, put her hands on the client’s head, whatever, but for Robin she did none of those things. “You need to ask a specific question, okay, honey?”
Robin nodded. He thought for a minute, then asked, “Are my mom and dad coming to get me?”
“Uh, this kind of tarot really doesn’t work for yes or no questions. Try again.”
Robin thought for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought, then asked, “What are my mom and dad doing right now?”
Catie repeated the question as she shuffled the deck in a slow, easy movement. She cut the deck, then began laying out the cards. Some of the women who ran caravans—she was one of about eight caravans at the fairgrounds, six of whom did tarot readings—let their clients pick the cards out of the deck, but Catie had always found that if the universe wanted the cards to come up, it would darn well put them on the top of the deck. Nobody else was allowed to touch her cards, lest their energy interfere with hers. She pursed her lips as she studied the group of cards she had lain out.
Finally, she looked up at Robin. “Okay, honey. This is the Nine-Card Spread, with three groupings—past, present, and future. In the Past we have the King of Pentacles, the Queen of Swords, and the Page of Cups. This is your father, your mother, and you—I’m sure of it. What does your daddy do?”
“I don’t remember. I think he works as a construction worker, but I don’t remember.”
“Okay, well, I’m sure this is him. Anyway, this is you guys in the past. Now, in the present, we have Judgement, the Two of Cups, and Temperance. That means reconciliation, or renewing a relationship. Now here in the future, we have the Ten of Cups, the Sun, and the Ten of Pentacles. This combination means a happy family life”
Robin jumped up excitedly. “So they’re gonna come and get me, and we’re gonna be happy!”
“I think so.” Catie smiled She really loved this kid and would be heartbroken if he left her, but if it would make him happy she would move the moon and stars. “Listen, Robin, why don’t you go help Madame Esmeralda with her crystal balls? I think somebody’s outside.”
“Okay,” Robin agreed happily. Before he left, he hugged Catie around her neck and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, Catie,” he whispered, then disappeared out the back door.
Smiling fondly after the boy, Catie shuffled her deck lightly, then pressed the tooth on the carving. Despite what she had told him, it was a good twenty minutes before she heard the door click shut again and the heavy cloth over the door flop. Catie looked up from the four rosewood boxes arranged on the shelf and had to quickly catch her jaw from dropping to the tabletop.
Coming towards her was a beautiful woman, tall and curvy, with makeup perfect on her face, blonde hair carefully made, wearing a linen suit with gold embroidery that whispered money and a pair of matching high-heeled pumps. The woman was clutching a purse embroidered with gold thread and pearls, and she was looking around with disinterest, then turned to Catie.
“Miss, could you please tell me where to find Cassandra Delphi?” she said imperiously.
Catie swallowed twice before she managed to answer. “I am Cassandra Delphi. How may I help you, madam?”
The woman snapped open her purse, withdrew several silver dollars—actual silver dollars, Catie had never even seen one—and dropped the correct amount of change into the “till”, actually a heavily decorated terra-cotta flowerpot. “I wish a reading,” she said in the same haughty tone.
“Certainly, madam.” Catie gestured for the woman to sit, lit her incense burner with a long match, and drew her best deck out of its rosewood box. “What is your question?”
“I wish to know what will happen in the next seven days,” the woman said, studying Catie sharply. “Can you do that for me?”
“Of course, madam.” Catie began shuffling, then stopped and asked, “Madam, might I ask your name?”
“Katrina Olivia Gephardt.”
Catie nodded and softly asked, “I ask and give thanks to the Universe for guidance, protection, and assistance. What lies in the future for the next seven days for Katrina Gephardt?” She shuffled the cards, cut the deck, and began laying out seven cards in a fan pattern. She studied them for a moment before speaking again.
“The first card in the pattern is the Emperor. He represents financial stability, ambition, authority, and achievement. Tomorrow you will need to keep your head firmly planted in reason, not in emotions, and this will aid you greatly in your ability to achieve goals.”
“I never give in to emotions,” Katrina Olivia Gephardt interrupted.
Catie could well believe it. She continued with the reading. “The second card in the pattern is the Ace of Wands. On its own it symbolizes the birth of a new idea, the beginning of action and taking initiative, being creative and inspiration. However, the third card in the pattern is the Empress. When those two cards appear side by side, it almost always means pregnancy or a new birth. You or someone you are very close to will either become pregnant or give birth, and since it covers two days, I believe this represents a labour that begins on the second day and continues on the third.
“The fourth card in the pattern is the Lovers. They stand for choice, for harmony, but mainly for the perfect union between man and woman. On the fourth day you will connect with the love of your life in a way you never have before.
“The fifth card in the pattern is the Sun. It represents happiness, success, triumph, a happy marriage. That is what you have to look forward to, the culmination of all your hard work on the other four days—a perfect day.
“The sixth card…” Catie trailed off for a moment. “The sixth card in the pattern…it’s the King of Wands. He is a man…an older man, likely in his thirties or older…strong, optimistic, friendly by nature, very physical, a wonderful husband and lover. However, he is prone to quick, hot tempers, impatience, a controlling nature, and an inflated ego. Be cautious when he arrives in your life on the sixth day.”
The client scowled at the seventh card. “I don’t need an interpretation of the last card. That’s Death.”
Catie held up both hands, palms out, in a calming gesture. “There are many interpretations of the Death card. Death is symbolic, not literal. The card indicates the ending of one part of your life to make way for a new one. Something will occur on this day that marks a change over to a new phase in your life. Be looking out for it.”
The woman seemed unimpressed, but tossed some more money into the flowerpot and left. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Catie thoroughly shuffled her deck to cleanse the energy. Something about that woman gave her the willies.
