An Educational Video by James Earle, Cultural History Teacher, Kate Nelson, Class of ’13, and Clark Hamilton, Class of ’13
A Short Story by Shelby Raebeck, English Teacher
Previously published in the anthology, Sudden Flash Youth
Shooting hoops at the court behind the Presbyterian church, I noticed an old blue Taurus wagon, and inside a dark figure watching. A few days later, the same car pulled in and Lance Williams, the star of the high school team who lived in Freetown, North Hampton’s black section, got out.
“I heard about some backwards-dunking white boy,” he said.
We chose for the ball and played dead even until point game, when Lance backed me toward the basket, then stepped back, and drained a jump-shot before I could even leave my feet.
“Good game,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said, slapping his hand.
He walked through the gate, the back of his shirt dark with sweat, then turned back, looking through the chain-link fence.
“I’ve seen you in school,” he said. “You don’t say much.”
“Guess not,” I said.
“Well,” he said, “maybe there ain’t nothing to say.” And he walked off to his car.
In school, Lance talked me into going out for the team, and two weeks later we were matched up in scrimmages, both of us 6’ 2”, him the star, me the newcomer, the only other kid with skills and above-the-rim hops. After he scored on me, he’d say, “Aw, come on now.” Then I’d bust him back, and he’d smile and wink. “Yeah,” he’d say, “that fire starting to come out.”
We won our first game, Lance scoring twenty, me nineteen, and afterward I rode with Lance, leaving my bike chained to the rack, and we cruised Main Street, then drove the long loop, hitting all the beaches on the bay side before swinging over to the ones on the ocean. Not mentioning the game, Lance just wanted to drive, from one beach to the next. By the time we got pulled over, I was nearly asleep.
“What’s going on, officer?” Lance said rolling down his window.
“Where you fellas headed?” the cop said. Continue reading
A Short Story by Eli Schultz, Class of ’13
Selma Schlickenstien, a wrinkly, light brown haired, 5’3, grey-eyed, 63-year-old lady lives in a small tan house in the suburbs of Marlboro, New Jersey. She works as the executive supervisor of reception at the headquarters of Camel Tobacco Co. and lives alone. A widow with no children, her dead husband Sherbet Schlickenstien, was run over by a truck during one of their annual vacations in Newport. Her house has one floor, covered in tan carpet throughout. The living room is full of beige furniture wrapped in plastic, with a 12 inch T.V. sitting on a stool and a small fireplace. The kitchen has a tile floor, stove/oven, fridge with an “ice box”, as she calls it, on the bottom, and small khaki counter. The dining room lies across from the kitchen with an old wooden table, also covered in plastic. The bedroom has a queen-sized bed, a nightstand with a drawer full of cigarette cartons, and a 12 inch T.V. with a radio alarm clock sitting on top of it.
Monday through Friday, Selma wakes up at 6:30 am, strips off yesterday’s nail polish and applies a new layer with a slightly different shade of grey. Her outfit usually consists of a selection from her large collection of tan blouses and black sport-jackets with khaki-pleaded trousers. Before driving her pale brown 1994 Chevrolet Celebrity to Camel Headquarters, a 45-minute drive during which she smokes eight cigarettes, Selma drinks two cups of black coffee and smokes 3 Newport cigarettes, her favorite brand. Selma takes the elevator to the ninth floor and sits down at her tawny desk, where she starts up her 2004 Dell 2400 desktop running Windows 98. Though she takes calls and manages the schedule of Herman Slanth, advertising executive for Camel Cigarettes, her official title is Executive Supervisor of Reception. Surprisingly enough, state law banned smoking in commercial buildings in Marlboro, so every 20 minutes Selma goes out onto the balcony across the floor to smoke a cigarette. Continue reading
A Play by Lily Baron, Class of ’13
PSYCHOLOGIST: [Reading] Sheniqua Von Heusen III. Sentenced to a psychiatric evaluation following an incident on an airplane that nearly caused a national crisis. [Squints] what does this footnote say? “Caution, she’s fiesty.” Hm, nothing I can’t handle. Come in Miss Von Heusen III
PSYCHOLOGIST: Hello. You must be Sheniqua.
SHENIQUA: Mmmmmhm. The 3rd. And you must be doctor Phil. How you doinnn’?
PSYCHOLOGIST: [Takes out pad of paper] can’t discern reality from television…
PSYCHOLOGIST: My name is Dr. Harris. Before we begin, do you have any questions?
SHENIQUA: Yes. I’ve lost sleep over this actually. Why is psycho in psychologist?
PSYCHOLOGIST: It’s of Greek origin.
SHENIQUA: Oh how interesting! Have you ever seen the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding? [Gets excited and stands up, bumping into the coffee table]
PSYCHOLOGIST: This isn’t about me, Sheniqua, and please watch yourself, that table is pewter.
SHENIQUA: Pewter? Pewwwwter [giggling] that’s a funny word! try to say it 5 times fast! Pewterpewterpewterpewterpewter.
PSYCHOLOGIST: Are you done?
SHENIQUA: [Sits down and smiles] Yes. Oh that reminds me! I have a present for you [giddy] close your eyes and hold out your hand.
PSYCHOLOGIST: I don’t like surprises.
PSYCHOLOGIST: Well, I do like presents.
SHENIQUA: Wonderful [Smiles]
PSYCHOLOGIST: [Closes eyes] what is it exactly?
SHENIQUA: Let’s just say it’s like a charm bracelet but it’s unisex. [Reaches into bag and pulls out handcuffs and places one on herself and the other on the psychologist]
PSYCHOLOGIST: Ooooh is it expensive? Maybe that wife of mine will like it.
SHENIQUA: The charm is. Now open your eyes.
SHENIQUA: Ain’t it purdyyy?
PSYCHOLOGIST: [With free hand writes on pad: “abandonment issues”] Now Sheniqua, dear, I need you to un-handcuff me now.
SHENIQUA: [Sniffs psychologist] are you related to the judge that sentenced me to see you?
PSYCHOLOGIST: Yes she’s my sister… how did you..?
SHENIQUA: You smell alike.
PSYCHOLOGIST: [Writes on pad: “Signs of psychosis.”]
PSYCHOLOGIST: So can you detach us now?
SHENIQUA: [Blank look]
PSYCHOLOGIST: Let me guess. You lost the key?