Views and Mechanics Publisher's Note Editor's Note Review of Language and Mind Review of This Is My Best Review of Lost in the Void Crossword (Solution Posted in September. Printable version in pdf format of journal.) May/Jun Crossword Solution Creative Nonfiction Puttin' on My Pearls By Cathryn Braswell My Dinner with Gacy By Andy Martello Mysteries of the Shenandoah Valley By Casey Clabough Getting Lucky By Dale Purvis Poetry Your Mind and You Are Our Sargasso Sea By Lita Sorensen Midsummer By Lita Sorensen Windows By Lita Sorensen Simple Man By B.K. Birch The View from Here By Mary Hudock The Dinner Party By Ruth Mark Fiction It's in the Stars By Linda Gallant Potts An Intimate Evening with Papa By Lance Garrison Ballard The Prank By Terri L. Knight A Pocketful of Starflakes By Leslie Wolter Cover Art Photography by Seth Brown About the Contributors © 2006, River Walk Journal and respective authors and artists. All rights reserved. Do not use or reproduce without permission. River Walk Journal, Inc. Board of Directors Chairman - Elizabeth Ross Vice Chairman - Joseph Koch Secretary/Treasurer - Geri Stock-Ross Editorial Director - Patti Kurtz, DA Literacy Director - Bill Mausteller Policy Director - PA State Rep. Jess Stairs Advisory Board Chairman - Patti Kurtz, DA Asst. Chairman - Dan Lachenman, PhD Samuel Hazo Christopher Leland Edwin Yoder Joseph Bathanti Journal Staff Publisher - Elizabeth Ross Editor-In-Chief - Joseph Koch Sen. Fiction Editor - Patti Kurtz Sen. Poetry Editor - Neeldhara Misra Sen. Creative Nonfiction Editor - Brenda Coxe Contributing Editor - Robert Dittman Publicity Director (PA) - Geri Stock-Ross For information about submissions, visit http://www.riverwalkjournal.org/submission.html. Questions about promotions, subscribers' services, and advertising should be sent to publisher@riverwalkjournal.org. River Walk Journal, Inc. is a non-profit corporation run entirely by volunteers. For information about volunteer opportunities and internships, visit http://www.volunteermatch.org/results/org_detail.jsp?orgid=58479. |
A Pocket Full of Starflakes By Leslie Wolter P.J. had been my best friend from the time I was three and he was five and we found Mr. Haggarty’s run-away bull dog at the same time. There was reward money, and P.J. could’ve just taken it ‘cause he was bigger, but he shared it with me. I put mine in an old jelly jar under my bed and I still haven’t spent it, ‘cause I’m saving up for something. I’m not sure what yet, but it’ll be something big. Yesterday, while I was looking in puddles for tadpoles, P.J. came running toward me pulling his Radio Flyer like a crazy man. “Get in,” he said, “I got something I wanna show you.” “Okay, but we can’t be gone too long. Is it far?” “Just over the hill apiece, near Baker’s Pond. We’ll be back just after gloaming.” I settled myself into the Radio Flyer. There was a thin cotton blanket lining the bottom. Beneath that it was kinda dirty and rusty, so I pulled it up around my legs. “Don’t go too fast, P.J.” “C’mon, Chickenliver, why aint’tcha ever in a fast movin’ mood?” I picked at the scab I got last time I rode in P.J.’s wagon when he swerved to miss a garden snake. “Just ain’t, I guess.” I dabbed at the scab with my dress hem and watched the bead of blood soak the white cotton. P.J.’s wiry calf muscles strained to pull me and the wagon over the rocks and sticks on the dirt path. “Where’d you say this thing is?” “Close your eyes til we get there. I want it to be a surprise.” I didn’t really feel like it, but I felt like arguing with P.J. even less—he can be real stubborn. Seemed like forever in that bumpy old wagon, twigs scraping the sides and jostle-bumping along. When we stopped, I heard P.J. huffing and scrabbling around. “Can I open my eyes?” “Not yet. I’ll say when.” I was beginning to feel kinda chilled, and my behind was sore pressed up against the steel with only the thin blanket for padding. “Come on, Peej! I’m tired of waiting!” “Okay—open up.” P.J. was in front of a stand of pine trees. He had a funny look on his face and was holding his hand out to me. “Look what I got here.” He was still out of breath from pulling the wagon all that way, so it came out all breathy and panty. “What is it?” I reached out and he dropped a small, shiny pebble sorta thing in my hand. It looked like a regular stone, only it was glowing with a moonish-white glow. It was smoother than any rock I’d seen, too and warm in the pocket of my palm. “Where’d ya get this?” “I have a bunch of them. Come here.” I clambered out from the wagon and followed P.J. to a place where it looked like he had just dug up a hole. Inside the hole was a pile of the same kinda rocks. They were glowing and pearly…so pretty in the twilight gray. “What are they, Peej?” “They’re starflakes.” “What?” “Starflakes. They’re pieces that break off the stars and fall to earth.” He had a hopeful kind of look on his face that I had never seen there before, and he was rolling one of the stones around between his fingers. “See how warm they feel? That’s ‘cause they’ve got some star energy still in ‘em. And they’re magic, too.” “Where’d you get ‘em?” “I found a pile of them glowing out here one night when me and Pa were gathering up the traps after dark. I saw the glow and followed it to where this hole was dug. Then, when I was standing there, another one fell outta the sky. That’s how I know what they are.” “Can I have one?” “Nope.” “Why not? Come on, P.J.! I want one!” “I can’t. I’m saving ‘em for something special.” “What?” “Promise you won’t tell?” “You know I won’t.” “Well…you know how my Ma’s been sick?” “Yeah?” “These are gonna make her better.” “How they gonna do that?” “I’m saving up all of ‘em, and then when I got enough, I’m gonna grind ‘em up and make her a special soup, and it’s gonna make her all better.” “How’s it gonna do that?” “I told you already. They’re magic!” I bit my lip and didn’t say anything. I know I’m younger than P.J., and dumber, but I wasn’t so sure about the plan. “What’s the matter with you?” “Nothin’” “Why do you got that look on your face, then?” “I ain’t.” “Well, I’m sorry I brung you all the way out here to show you. You don’t even know a good idea when you hear one! Just go on and get back in the wagon.” He waited til he thought I was too busy getting settled to notice him, and scooped a pile of the rocks into his pocket. The way they made his pants bulge out all lumpy made me feel sad. He grabbed the handle of the Radio Flyer and jerked it around so that I had to hold on not to fall out. But I wasn’t mad. I watched P.J. strain to pull me over the rocky dirt and I knew right then that things for him would never quite turn out the way he hoped. But, I decided to keep my eyes open for any falling stars, just in case. |