Excerpt
As a boy, the dancing waters of Paradise Creek had always
been special to Joel. More specifically the headwaters, the spring
up in the hills was a very special place. It was his place. A safe
place to hide and his place to ponder the possibilities of life. Now
as he crossed over Paradise Creek as a man, for the first time in
thirty-two years Joel could feel that the bridge represented much
more to him than simply a wooden structure that ensured a dry
start to his ride. Joel Hooper was crossing over into a new adventure
in his life. Or at least he sure hoped he was. Sure as heck
something had to change. And it had to change in a hurry.
On this particularly fine Montana morning, Joel was serenaded
by the rustling of the wind through the tall grass of the
thickly matted pasture. Yes, it seemed to be the same wind that
Joel had been meaninglessly chasing for so many years. But he
knew that this time it was different. Joel Hooper was home. It
wasn’t so much the ranch yard with the tiny weathered ranch
house and the dilapidated buildings that Joel thought of as home
but it was the Hills of Serenity that held the Circle H, nestled
close to their western side. Gently rolling, golden hills rose high
out of the flat plains below. He knew he was coming home. The
shrill calls of the meadowlarks were heralding his arrival.
As he crested yet another hill, Joel was greeted by the distant
view of a dozen mares and their foals leisurely grazing on a lush
meadow. They were gorgeous horses and they were his horses,
now that he had inherited the Circle H; amazing as that may still
seem to him, this is what a lawyer named Debra Song in Great
Falls had told him just yesterday. Not that the Circle H was
much by most people’s standards but it was a heck of a lot more
than anyone else had ever given him in his life.
At that moment, Joel was struck by the incredible freedom of
his new equine family roaming the high hills. Yes, he thought.
That is what I want for my life. Reaching back into his childhood,
Joel recalled that horses had always been a bold and beautiful
symbol of freedom. He had so desperately wanted some of
what they had.
Time will Come
Soon my children
will enrol me in the old people’s school,
in the eighth grade,
so that when I come out I can be a freshman,
whose face is still clean, and although
I’m a little anxious, I’m interested in everything,
I want to know, and not forget.
Excerpt
“How about a cup at the spot?”
“I’m having one right now. Want to shoot some pool?”
“Sure. Meet you there in about half an hour?”
“Yeah.”
He finishes his coffee quickly, eats his sandwich, and steps into the shower.
Today is Saturday, and the rest of his day is free. He puts on his jeans, a t-shirt,
and a light jacket. The days of September are getting cooler; a sign of fall
approaching.
In the elevator he meets the lady from 406, a middle-aged blonde who likes
him and always exchanges a few words with him. Today is no exception.
“Out again?” she asks, with a smile.
“Yeah, for a while.”
“Girls, girls, as always!”
She says nothing more as they reach the lobby and they go their separate
ways.
He walks to the parking lot, gets into his car, and drives to the pool hall. Talal
is already there and has ordered his coffee. Hakim buys a bottle of water and they
start their game.
“Anything on the job-front?” Hakim asks.
“Nothing yet, man.”
“Well, something will come together sooner or later.” He tries to encourage
his friend.
“I hope so, man; I’m getting frustrated.”
Hakim’s phone rings. It’s Jennifer.
“Hi, how are you?” he says.
“Hi, I’m okay. You remember, I promised to call you.”
“Yeah, I know, but—”
“What? You don’t want to go out with me? Is that it?” she interrupts him.
“No, that’s not what I mean. I’m having a game of pool with Talal.”
She hesitates on the other end of the phone, so he tells her, “I’ll see you later,
okay?”
“You promise?”
“Yeah, I promise. I’ll call you and meet you later.”
He puts his phone away; it’s his turn to play.
“She really wants to know where you are all the time, eh?” asks Talal.
“No, that’s not it. She called earlier, and I told her to call me back.”
“Women, you know, they are all the same. That’s why my style is no
commitment, you know? Casual sex as often as possible, but none of this
nonsense!”
Taboo
Touch your right arm
With your left hand… slide
Imagine that I’m
By your side
If you want more…
Soften your lips
Feel them with your
Fingertips
Imagine that I’m…
Kissing you
The rest for these lines
Be taboo
Embalming
And the time came to speak the truth
rising through the cracks of the floor
four signs of distress sent
to the four corners of the globe
and I positioned myself
before the wrath of Zeus
when the mistral blew against me
and the terrace creaked
as if agreeing with my anger
at the little people who always knelt
while golden nymphs
reminded me of man’s misery when
finally, I placed my head on the pillow
to spend my long night of solitude
truthfully, Him I was, the splendorous
loner, the irritable saviour
foolish enough to be embalmed
Excerpt
Rachael bounced over the kitchen floor to watch Tyne take the roast out of the oven and place it on a platter for Morley to carve. “That sure smells good, and I’m real hungry.” The child sniffed the air. “Do we get gravy, too?”
“We sure do,” Tyne said, “and as soon as you’ve washed your hands we can start to eat.”
After they washed at the kitchen sink and settled in chairs at the table, Morley said, “Tell Auntie Tyne what you saw.”
“Piggies,” Bobby sang out.
Rachael cut in. “Chickens and cows and ….”
“Baby cows!”
“They’re not baby cows, silly,” Rachael said with authority, “they’re calves.”
Tyne laughed quietly as she filled plates and placed one in front of each of them. “And did you see the mommy hen with her little chicks?” she asked.
“Yep!” This from Rachael as she grabbed her fork and began to dig into her mashed potatoes.
Bobby followed his sister’s lead but Morley reached over and touched their hands. “Wait until Auntie Tyne sits down and we ask the blessing.”
Both children looked at him blankly. “What’s that mean?” Rachael demanded.
“It means,” Morley said gently, “that before we eat, we thank God for the food.”
“Oh yeah,” the girl said. “Mommy thanks God sometimes, but she calls it Grace. Why would she call it Grace? I know a girl at school who’s called Grace and she never says anything like that.”
Morley glanced at Tyne who noted with some satisfaction that her husband seemed momentarily at a loss. She bit her lip to hide her smile.
“Well,” Morley said as Tyne took her place at the table, “your mom is right in calling it Grace. You see, grace is a blessing …
All the Pianos in the Wood
I like to play on the black keys
because I believe that night music
is the key to being dreamed.
I like the music of dreams that
is more real than ‘all the tea in China’
and ‘all the coffee in Guadalupe’.
I like it most of all that all the love
birds in the world are singing their
hearts out, so that the hurt world
will know again, that dancing
on one foot the other is not forgotten.
Michael Harlow, New Zealand
Πιάνο στο Δάσος
Θα `θελα να παίξω τα μαύρα πλήκτρα
γιατί πιστεύω ότι η νύχτα
είναι για όνειρα.
Μ’ αρέσει η μουσική των ονείρων
που είναι πιο αληθινά απ’ όλο το τσάί της Κίνας
κι όλο τον καφέ της Γουαδελούπης
και μ’ αρέσει πιο πολύ γιατί όλοι
οι αγαπημένοι του κόσμου τραγουδούν
μ’ όλη τους την καρδιά
που να ξέρει ο πονεμένος κόσμος
πως κι αν χορεύεις στο ένα πόδι
το άλλο ποτέ δεν το ξεχνάς
Μετάφραση Μανώλη Αλυγιζάκη//Translated by Manolis Aligizakis
Michael Harlow, New Zealand
Manolis Aligizakis 