Thursday, March 30, 2017

Book Review- "The Curse of Ravenscourt." by Sarah Masters Buckey

"The Curse of Ravenscourt." by Sarah Masters Buckey is part of the American Girl series of books in which fictional adolescent girls have adventures at various periods in U.S. history.

The Curse of Ravenscourt takes place sometime in early 20th century New York City. While their house is being renovated, eleven-year old Samantha Parkington and her extended family move into the  new "Ravenscourt" apartment building in downtown New York City.  

Almost immediately, strange things begin to happen and Samantha  thinks that a curse placed on the building's owner-Horace Raven by a tenant of one of his slum properties is to blame.

Author Sarah Masters Buckey has written an exciting story complete with many historical details of the era including the terrible living conditions of the tenements.





Thursday, March 16, 2017

"Jake the Logger" a short story by Craig Zimmerman.

They brought Jake's father in just before dinner. A falling snag had broken his leg. The logging camp doctor set the leg and gave his father something for the pain, but there was nothing to take the worried look from his mother's face.

Jake knew what his mother was worried about. Without his father's paycheck, there would be no money for food or anything else. It hadn't always been like this. Once they had a nice house and plenty of everything. Then the Depression came and Jake's father lost his job as a teacher.

Eventually, they all moved to a logging camp near the small town of Enumclaw. Later that night, after the smaller kids had gone to sleep Jake's mother came to him. She told him that even though he was only 15, he would have to go to work. There was no other choice.

The next day, Jake walked alone to the makeshift office of the boss of the logging camp. Jake looked at the massive man behind the  desk and cringed.Most of the loggers were large, powerful men and Jake felt like a runt compared to them.

The large man held out his hand " Eric Olson" the man said in a low rumble. Jake grasped the man's hand "Jake Wagner." "What can I help you with Jake?"  Mr. Olson said. Jake looked into the hard face of Mr. Olson. "I need a job." he said simply.

 Mr. Olson nodded grimly. "I'm sorry about your father. and I know your family needs the money, but I don't know." "Just give me a chance." Jake pleaded.  Mr. Olson was silent for several moments, but then smiled.

"I am going to give you a chance." he said, but you are going to do everything you are told. Do you understand?"  Jake nodded. Be here tomorrow at five in the morning and I will get you started Mr. Olson said.

 When he got home, Jake heard his parents arguing. It didn't take long to find out that he was the subject of the  disagreement.Eventually, the argument faded and Jake's mother exited the bedroom. "Your father would like to talk to you Jake." His mother said upon seeing him."

Jake entered the bedroom and saw his father lying on the bed. His leg was wrapped in bandages. His father motioned for him to come closer. "What did Olson tell you." he asked. " I got a job." Jake said.

His father shook his head. "I wanted so much more for you son. You're smart and you could be so much more than a laborer." Jake waited until his father fell asleep before he left the room.

The next morning, Jake walked to the logging camp. All the men were heading into the woods with their tools. No one paid any attention to him. Finally, one of the loggers came up to him.

"Are you Jake? The man asked in a German accent. Jake nodded. My name is Wagner. I'm going to show you what to do." Jake shook hands with the man and immediately noticed the heavy scars that covered his arms.

When they reached the logging site, Wagner pointed to a couple of men who were sawing on a huge tree. "You go take over for Joseph, he's the one in the red shirt."

Jake shyly walked over the the two men. Both of them ignored him as they pulled the crosscut saw back and forth. Finally, Jake tapped the man in red on the shoulder. "What is it boy?" the man asked in a Polish accent. "I'm taking your place." Jake said over the noise of the lumber camp. The man laughed and took his hands off the saw handle. "It's all yours boy."

Jake grabbed the long handle of the saw and nodded at the other man that he was ready. After an hour of pulling the saw, Jake was exhausted, but he didn't quit.The work of felling  the huge tree went on for most of the day. Finally, they were done and Jake watched in awe as his partner shouted "Timberrr!" and the massive tree tumbled to the ground.

Over the next several weeks, Jake learned how to handle an Axe, cinch a  heavy choker chain on a felled tree, and drive the Oxen team that pulled the logs down from  the mountain.

One day, there was some kind of mix-up and several men were badly hurt by a falling tree. Afterwards, Wagner came up to Jake. "Always pay attention to what is happening around you. Always." the big German said. Jake nodded.


In late October, Jake's family received some unexpected good news. His father, now recovered from the  broken leg had been offered a job teaching in Enumclaw. Unfortunately, that meant Jake would also  have to quit his job.

Jake had learned  to love working at the camp and would miss the rough loggers who had become friends. On his last day, all the guys gathered round and Wagner presented him with his own Axe. " You did good work Jake and anytime you need a job you come back and see us." Jake shook hands with Wagner and the rest of the men and slowly walked down the mountain. 




















Sunday, March 5, 2017

"Pothole" a short story by Craig Zimmerman

Jason cursed the county as he narrowly avoided a pothole that had sprung up on his street. It sometimes took weeks for the county to fix the road.

The next day, the pothole was even larger and Jason plotted a way to get around it without going into the ditch. As he drove around the edge of the hole, it seemed to expand and Jason felt his car being pulled into the chasm.

In moments, Jason's entire car began sinking into the hole. He struggled to get out, but it was impossible to open the door as his car began to fall through space.

The car stopped with a jolt and Jason opened the door. Every trace of his world was gone. There were no houses, or trees, or anything familiar. His present location was almost dark. A dim light came from somewhere and there was smoke from a fire.

"Welcome to Garnton" a voice said. Jason turned to see a tall, hooded figure approaching him. "Who are you?" he asked the hooded figure. 

"I am Traymor  the leader of Garnton. Most of our new arrivals have a lot of questions, so I will attempt to answer them." Traymor said.

"Garnton is a world of few natural resources and in order to get the materials we need we are forced to use unorthodox methods." "Then the pothole was some kind of transportation device." Jason said.  Traymor nodded. 

"If you want my car, you can have it, but I would like to go home." Jason said. "Traymor smiled. "I'm afraid it's not that simple. It is true that we need your car, but we also need workers, so  you will stay as well."

"There is no need to get upset, most of our arrivals come to like Garnton." Traymor said. Jason looked through the dim light at the barren landscape and thought he heard Traymor laughing.






Thursday, March 2, 2017

"Alone" a short story by Craig Zimmerman

For the first time in her life, Julie was alone, completely alone. In a daze, she looked at the buildings and people around her. Nothing looked familiar and all of the people were strangers.

Julie wandered for hours and finally realized that she was lost. Without any hope left, Julie tried re-tracing her steps. Somewhere along the way, a woman asked her if she needed help. Julie ran away from the woman as fast as she could.

Eventually, Julie's surroundings started to look a little familiar. She entered a coffee shop and moved through the tables. There it was! Julie picked up her phone from the floor. Everything was alright now. She was no longer alone.


First Crush by Craig Zimmerman

Her name was Sandy and she was tall, dark-haired, and slightly older then my eleven years.

Sandy and I were in the same class that combined the fifth and sixth grades at Panther Lake Elementary School. I recall speaking with Sandy a few times, but I was much too shy to carry on a real   conversation with her. It would have been nice if I could have  gotten to know  her.

In any case, I am grateful for Sandy's kindness to me. Not all girls at that age are as gentle and sweet.

The last time I saw Sandy was while I was voting in one of the presidential elections. She smiled at me from across the room. I hope that she is doing well.