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4B - The Michigan Daily - Literary Magazine - Thursday, March 8, 2001
TAKIO
Continued from Page 3B
This was a shock to her friends and would
have been a shock to Gavin's if he had any. She
was of Italian-American blood, with wonderful
tan skin and a nice physique. Her face seemed
a little long and she had large eyes that
drooped, making her look like an incredibly
affectionate hound dog. She wasn't the most
beautiful woman in the world, but she was
intelligent and very hard working. She also
thought Gavin was "to-die-for" cute, and an
excellent writer. It was no surprise to the fam-
ily when she said that they were going to get
married. When hunter was born, they actually
began to establish Gavin as part of the family.
The doctors said that it was an aneurysm and
there was absolutely nothing that anyone could
have done to prevent it. One day after Fiona
had tucked Hunter into bed she came into her
bedroom and comlained of a headache to her
husband. Convinced it was no more than the
stress of being an over achiever, he got her a
few aspirin and rubbed her temples for her.
What did I ever do to deserve such a family, he
thought falling asleep, unbeknownst that his
wife would never wake up the next morning.
Weaving in and out of the tombstones was no
longer difficult for Gavin. He knew exactly
where her plot was and he could get there in
the dark or during the day, even with a blind-
fold on. Many times he would stop by other
gravesites just to say hello. Every once in a
while he would bring flowers for young May
Parker, she had died at only two months of age,
a victim of sudden infant death syndrome. He
would always say good day to Norman
Osborne, an old man that had died of a heart
attack during his ninety-fifth birthday party.
Sometimes he would talk to him about sports,
and other times he would just bring him a few
of his old baseball cards. He never knew these
people in life, but considered them his best
friends in death.
Rising up over a small hill, he crossed
between two birch trees and came to rest twen-
ty paces to the right of the smaller one. Gavin
slowly sat down and let his head drop into his
hands. He wiped at his eyes with the back of
his hand and let his shoulders heave. With one
arm folded tightly across his chest, he draped
the other around the gravestone. It was one of
the only things that he could ever imagine lov-
ing him back.
Hunter walked in his house announcing his
arrival with the slamming of the door and a
loud shout.
Walking past the living room and into the
dining room, he glanced over the counter to see
his father perched in front of his computer.
"Hey Gavin, how was your day?" he
boomed.
"Okay," he said, a little startled at his son's
powerful voice. "I think that we've almost got
this book licked."
"All right! My day just keeps getting better
and better." He niade his way over to his father
and gave him a rowdy bear hug. Hunter was the
captain of the school's wrestling team that put
his tiny high school on the map. They were
known state-wide for their tradition, and he
was the 178 pound state champion the year
before as a '16-year-old sophomore. Gavin
would never miss any of his meets and a few
times went to watch Hunter practice during
previous regional and state trials. Many times
Hunter would find amusement in wrestling his
father and making him say uncle, in order to let
him go.
"Hun-ter. Can't - breathe ..." Gavin choked
out, his face draining of any color. Hunter
dropped his father and patted him on the back
as he took long gulps of air.
"My aren't we happy?" Gavin said, a bright
red color creeping up his neck to his face.
"School was real uneventful." Hunter said,
grinning. "Enough to where I was able to fin-
ish all my homework in class." Gavin looked at
his son, envying his cool composure and solid
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strength. Every once in a while this tugged
gently at the chords of jealousy. Only every
once in a while, though.
"So since I finished my homework I was
wondering if I could go out with Melissa
tonight? I know that it's a school night and I
usually stay home but I would really like the
chance to get to take her out to the movies
instead."
Gavin liked Melissa. He had met her once a
few weeks ago at one of Hunter's preseason
wrestling meets. She was pretty in a very plain
type of way. She was short but muscular with
thick legs and large breasts. She had a loud
laugh, but she was so cute that no one ever got
annoyed with it. Hunter and Melissa reminded
Gavin of himself and his wife, during school.
"No, no, no ... please go out." Gavin said,
sitting back down. "Melissa is a great girl and
you two need to spend more time with one
another."
"Thanks Gavin." Hunter smiled as he picked
his father back up. Spinning him around Gavin
felt the floor go out beneath him and in the
wave of slight nausea, he laughed.
Hunter sat at the edge of the cliff and threw
another stone into the ravine below. Melissa
was sitting with her back pressing against his,
her head resting on the ridge made between his
two shoulder blades. She blew the smoke of her
cigarette into the air, looking up at the
moon.
"Hunter are you going to take me
away with you?"
"Now why would I ever want to cart
your ass around, kiddo?" Hunter said
throwing another rock.
"Hey watch it bub." Melissa empha-
sized this by lifting her head and
thumping Hunter on the back. He
laughed at this and even though he
couldn't see her face, he saw her bottom
lip inching forward pouting ever so
slightly.
"I guess it depends on if I decide to
go anywhere." Hunter knew that his
grades and his wrestling ability were
good enough to take him to any college
in the state, even the University of
Pennsylvania,' in the Ivy- League. But
Pennsylvania was a long way from
home, someplace that he never really
wanted to be.
"What?" Melissa said, spinning
around to face Hunter's back. "You
would be insane not to go! You have the
talent and the charisma to go any-
where."
"I know." Hunter said, no longer with
Melissa. Instead, he was in the second
grade and asking his mother what
wresting was. He had heard a few boys
in school talking about Terry "Hulk"
Hogan and Randy "Macho Man"
Savage wrestling in a big match on tele-
vision the upcoming weekend. His
mother told him that it was a sport of
endurance and pride that began back
before Christ was born started by the
ancient Greeks and Romans. Not really
understanding, he told her what he had
heard at school and his mother laughed
out loud. She told him, "No Hunter
those men are professional wrestlers,
which really means actors. They are
entertainers. Wrestlers are people like
your grandfather, who really do battle
like present-day gladiators."
This left a riveting image in young
Hunter's head, so when he found out
that the community had a juniors
wrestling club he begged his parents to
let him join. They were delighted in
Hunter's interest and signed him up
immediately. For five years he wrestled
See TAK0, Page 58
Despondent
Winter sneaking
And closing me in
Hidden and protected
No accumulation
I thought you knew
Alone at night
Fan rolling, caked with ashen air
The smell of a lit match
Chemicals and wood
Rushing upwards past my face
Refrigerator vibrating cool cool cold
There are birds in the trees
Alone at night
Knowing that you're safe, that I still have friends,
That everything is good miles away,
It's my kind of asceticism:
Chosen
Candlelight warm tonight
Outside flakes and frost on glass
No accumulation
Scenes of us slow dancing
More real than memory
Don't vanish yet
Stay with me -
Sing Ray Charles' "You Don't Know Me"
Between smiles and tears
I thought you knew
For the first time, like so many
Other times, a confession to myself:
I need to be alone
I don't expect you to understand
I need to be selfish sometimes
Though I'm sorry, so sorry
There are birds in the trees
My tracks are in the forest
I thought you knew
These sounds of loneliness
Interrupted bymy thoughts
Fill the room translate
Into languages you haven't yet learned
I'm here, I will, I'm trying
No accumulation
The Michigan Daily - Literary Magazine
Toms by Cirstyfer §er
Under a Boiling Sky
There was a ring around the moon tonigl
perhaps hundreds or thousands of miles
I imagined myself swimming back
to you in that pink plastic dress .
that shone in my picture frame that night
before I thought of adding two plus two,
like me and you in our five.by three wor
So I reflected on this matter and beheld
myself not to be so different from my fria
the moon, surrounded completely by a ri
like you want to do to me while wearing
that pink plastic dress on this rooftop
under the final boiling sky of Fall.
Downriver Rain
Tonight I'm enjoying the rain on February
and courtesy of Philip Levine
I've realized the simplicity of the smoke,
created to hide my life as a dream.
So, so what if romance is delivered
in a coffee cup or a drunken beer?
I've begun to fan the screen from my eyes
in order to see the door as a way
out to the prepubescent dawn
too cold to be a sign of spring,
too real to be sobering.
I'm working my way back in
through a
that reads
I feel like
but I stay
door with a white sign
"No Bikes No Colors No Leathers:
a hypocrite, for all of the above
for one more
"No Difference" because it's familiar and be(
whether it's across the room or under
he knows-as do I-the truth
will be pouring all through the night.