The Weightlifters
The Northfield High weightlifting team needed bodies. Of the original ten-man team, six had been cut, busted with fake IDs up at the Pleasureland strip club off the highway. One guy dropped out after knocking up a sophomore, and another guy quit after getting pinned to the drop floor accordion-style under a ninety-kilo snatch without a spotter around to pull it off his neck. Connor decided to try out for the team, because it’d keep him out of the house when his stepfather got home. He was running out of basement sheetrock—five fresh holes punched last Thursday...
Read MoreA Vegetarian Backslidden
On the seventh day God rested, so Sunday dinner was up to Lucifer. While chewing enthusiastically and explaining to his angels that, for much of the beginning of human history, his most confusing creation would believe their planet was not only flat but the center of the universe (to hearty chuckles all around) God ate in contentment. But, towards the end of the meal, the creator abruptly began to brood. Seeing his lord staring off, his hairy jaws full but no longer moving, Gabriel asked what was wrong. “Well,” God both swallowed and answered hesitantly. “It’s the food.” “Oh, I...
Read MoreThe Broken Cross
This is the long-awaited conclusion to a piece first run by Wild Violet on September 24, 2010. While it was never our intention to wait so long to run the second installment of John Hitchner’s piece, sometimes real life intervenes. In this case, I had just brought home my newborn baby, and was in the midst of “baby boot camp.” By the time we resumed our production schedule, my baby-frazzled brain completely overlooked the fact that we had not run the second installment. While going through old files, I was recently reminded of the omission. So here, at long last, it is! ~...
Read MoreIzamal
(continued from an earlier issue; read part one) Comrades Outside the restaurant I said, “We must go quickly to find this man at the University.” We set off at nearly a trot, and after asking directions from a street vendor, we found our way to the steps of that library. As Gustavo had said, there stood a large man with a thick middle. His Yucatecan shirt was tucked in at the waist, making him appear even stouter. Eusebio Diaz appeared to be uncomfortably warm. Small beads of perspiration dotted his forehead as he said, “Yes, I am the one you seek. Let’s get out of this...
Read MoreIzamal
Where do I begin? How can I explain my actions? Where does memory fade and when do we forgive the heinous acts of history? I only know what I know. And I cannot stop the sequence of events that must occur. Itzam`na (“Dew from Heaven”) whispers in my ear, “We are the Maya and this is our land.” I am Luca. I was born in 1970. I am a poor Mayan child, now just ten years old. We worked hard, my family and me. My father had died when I was five. Still, we got by. My mother raised us up in the church. The Catholic Church. How beautiful that Mission was! We felt special to...
Read MoreNo Greater Love
During the early stages of a very serious romance, my girlfriend Ann and I took a trip to St Augustine, Florida, to visit friends. We included a side trip to the Ponce de Leon’s Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park, the area discovered in 1513. After an awesome tour of the park, we rested on a bench and sipped a cool drink. Across the path from us was a makeshift sign that read: WATER FROM THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH $.39 LIMITED QUANTITY MONEY BACK GUARANTEE Next to the sign sat a shabbily dressed middle-aged gentleman. A large dog rested its chin blissfully on the man’s...
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