car n your o % 5 you 1 a re ’t save n a c but we e e c W n a insur Summer 206 2006
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Teen Summer Reading Monday Nights, 7—9 pm July 10—August 28 Come share your favorite books with us Get book recommendations Meet new people Pick up some poetry and writing prompts Play games and compete for prizes
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Sign up at the Front Desk after June 20th “Expresso” Logo designed by Jiali Sheng “Got Read” Logo designed by Rebecca George
A Haunting Melody by Rebecca George “Hey, Tek! Look what I found!". I groaned inwardly. Kaze, one of the younger Dras, was always following me around, showing me what he had found around the clan's camp. "See? See? I ate it, and I could understand the birds!" Yeah, right. A little orange fruit? Hah. I took it anyway. Kaze started grinning at me. "Go away." He started to pout. "Just ‘cause you’re 12..." “Go away.” I rolled my eyes and kept walking. "Tek." I looked up and saw my father, the chieftian in front of me. "I see that you are heading for the pond. You may not. There are rumors of a civilization of merpeople there." Merpeople? The sworn enemies of the Dras? Score! Adventure! "Fine." I mumbled. "And if something happens, I've got the dagger....." My father smiled at me, and walked toward the tent. Dad was always really cautious of my safety after mom got killed......that’s why he gave me a dagger to always carry with me.
I continued toward the pond. A lone guard was surveying the dirt path to the pond. "I'm sorry, but only those related to the chieftan may pass." He looked at my ears, and the black stones, the symbol of my connection to the chief, tied to them. "Alright, you may pass." After a long walk down a path and through a patch of forest, I emerged at the pond. And, there was nothing in the pond. Yay. I sat down to wait, and eventually fell asleep. I woke up to a beautiful song. On a rock near the end of the pond, there was a purple haired girl sitting on a rock, singing. She looked like a Dra, but there was something odd about her. She didn't have scales on her top half... she didn't have any wings.....she had peachy skin...and she had a fish-like fin where her feet were supposed to be... like a mermaid! She got off the rock and swam over to me. She started talking, but I the sounds she made had no meaning to me. "I don't understand you." She cocked her head at me. She must not have understood me, either. Well, that was just great. I finally found a mermaid, and we couldn't even understand each other! "Hold on a moment..." I whispered... I had that unusual fruit Kaze found! Wow. Kaze had actually helped me out! Using my dagger I cut the fruit in half, and handed half to her. She shrugged and bit into it. I ate my fruit, and looked into the slowly darkening sky, wondering if the fruit would work. "What are you staring at up there?"
I ate my fruit, and looked into the slowly darkening sky, wondering if the fruit would work. "What are you staring at up there?"
I literally jumped. "THE FRUIT WORKS!" I shouted triumphantly. She smiled. "I can understand you!" "Wait a second." She started to look worried. "You... you can walk! And you have wings... and scales all over! Are you... are you a Dra?" "Don't worry, I'm not like the... others." "So, friends?" "Friends." We shook hands. I talked to her for several hours, and learned several things. There were only a few merpeople in the lake. Many of them had been wiped out by Dras. But most importantly, I leaned that her name was Melody. (To be continued in our next issue)
Drawing by Rebecca George
Free By Anastasia Marie Morrow Free...it sounds so good. But I feel like I’ll never be it. I want my soul to fly with the dragons, and play with the fairies. I want my soul to be free like a dragon is able to fly. I want my hear to be with my real family, But it can’t be…. Because I am not Free I want my spirit to gallop across green plains, I want my spirit to glide in the wind. But it can’t be... Because I am not Free.
Princess by Anastasia Marie Morrow Every girl has a dad, And that dad calls her his lil princess. That girl is lucky, cuz this girl has no dad. But this girl has a mom… A mom who calls her Princess… This mom has two princess’ and one prince… This mom… Is the most wonderful thing that happened in her life, This mom is a woman who brightens people’s day.
Jack’s Chess Challenge by Jack Yang
Use the chessboard enclosed to write your answer and return it to the Reference Desk. Winners will be announced in the next issue. Be sure to include your name and a phone number where we can reach you if we have any questions. Winners from last issue: None! He must have stumped all of you. Don’t let him get away with that. Send us your solutions or else he’ll be a self-proclaimed champion! Challenge:
Check Mate in 2
THE WANDERER By Loren Matilsky
Come in young defender, Come out of the storm. Be a pretender, Sit back and be warm Forget all your knowledge, Your hate and your fear, Tell me your story, Over season and year, For life can’t be bought to be glory, Without some given price, So recall your life’s dream, If you haven’t paid twice. Tell of the love, and the fear, and the hate, Tell of the chances that are to be weighed Rest now, for it won’t do to wait, Until you twice be repaid. You are young, A pretender. Ever sleepless, You are a wanderer. Tell me of the ship that hasn’t set sail, Whose sails lie still, ever furled, Which fears life’s fierce gale, The windy storm of this world. Tell me your story Page 8
Tell of the mountains, the sights, The rivers, the streams, Tell of the creature that lies powerless, Of the creature who is the defender. Saddened, Ever restless, You are a wanderer. Befog your senses, Drift passed the gray, Look through memory’s lenses, And take me along, leading the way, Go back in time To when the trees were still standing, Look to the past and find light, In the darkness impending, Regrow the tree! Brighten the flower! Slow down time! Lengthen the hour! Ignore all else, The imminent dark! Nurture the brain! Strengthen the heart! Grip on to life! Page 9
Sleep, rest, And remember. Ever fearless, You are a wanderer. Sleep, Through experience sift. Sleep long and hard, Until the winds shift, Sleep, Until the winds from the gale Fill up the cloth For the ship to set sail, Sleep, Until the lock is axed through, Until the door’s broken open, For the world to renew, Sleep, Avoid the taunts and the scorn, Sleep, deep and fast, Until your soul is reborn, Sleep, Leave your body, embrace the entombed, Live now through death, Till your mind is exhumed. Sleep, Sleep, be rested and dream,
Tired, You are a sleeper. Ever tired, You are a wanderer. Sleep, and dream your life away, Drifting past shapeless images of gray, For you have not your life, Your soul not to give, You are afraid of death, And cannot live, Your body is sealed; your life is not to be read, Your past was a dream; you’re a dreamer now dead, Always hungry, the earth lies unfed, Now listen with joy, to the song of the dead. And, Ever silent, You were a wanderer.
The Crow’s Dagger by Joshua B. Cohen Greetings to whomever may have had the misfortune to pick up this letter. Within the contents of these pages lies a tale so fantastic that you shall never believe it, but I shall write it anyway, as someone may have the common sense to trust my tale. I do apologize for the story and whatever nightmares it may bring. This is why I shall give you this one chance to put down this tale and read a more cheery novella. If you are still reading, note that you do so of your own will. It began sometime in September or October, or perhaps even late August. Francis and I were driving back into town from a short trip we took to escape the trials of work. We were accountants working for a large company you might have heard of. The company’s name isn’t really important. All you must know at this point is Francis was my closest friend, back when he was alive. So we were driving down this dirt road in this horrid car we purchased back in college. The thing was an old Honda pick-up. The wheels were caked with dirt, the paint was peeling off, and the left taillight wouldn’t work. As we drove we talked about this and that and other nonsense that seemed important at the time. I’m not sure what the hour was, but it was quite late. I would have fallen asleep at the wheel had Francis not been keeping me up with his banter. I shut my eyes for only a second when Francis screamed “Look out!” I awoke just in time to see the man’s face. He was AfricanAmerican with short black hair. He had a large hooked nose, almost like a bird. He had some of the shiniest teeth I will ever see. But it was his eyes that caught my attention. They were red as rubies and just as shiny. In his hand was a brown paper bag; I assumed he was a drunk. He just stood there in the middle of the road. I tried to swerve, but the car had picked up too much speed. The front slammed hard into the man’s side, knocking him down and causing him to roll off the road and into some bushes.
Francis and I got out of the car and went into the bushes to look for the body. We searched the whole bush and found nothing. We were about ready to return to our death trap we called a truck, when I saw something shine from the corner of my eye. I called Francis over, and we walked towards where my eye saw the glint. When we reached the spot, we found the bag the man had been carrying when he was hit. Next to the bag was a large crow. I’d guess it to be more than twice the size of an average crow, and black as pitch. What I found very curious were the crow’s ruby red eyes. I then saw the shine emitting from the bag. I reached to look inside the bag when the crow assaulted me. I still feel the horrible pain as the bird scratched and pecked my face. Finally, Francis shooed the horrible creature away. With the crow gone I reached inside the bag and pulled out a wondrous dagger. “Truly amazing,” said Francis, and that it was. The blade had silver mixed in with the iron. The handle was made of pure gold, studded with exactly twelve rubies of various sizes. I know it was twelve as I counted them over twice. “May I see the knife?” he asked, mistaking what was clearly a dagger for a knife, the twit. I reluctantly handed him the dagger, which he tossed around in his hands like some children’s toy. “This is stupendous! This will make us rich! We’ll be rich!” Francis said as he handed the dagger back to me. That is what put me over the edge. The ”we” is what put me over the edge. Why should “we” get the money when I found it and when I had to deal with the filthy bird? It was then that I knew what must be done. I tightened my grip on the dagger as though it might otherwise float away. While Francis’ back was turned, I plunged the blade between his shoulder blades. He turned around with a look of terror and surprise in his light blue eyes. I lifted the knife again and slashed through his heart. He died before he hit the ground.
I wish to note here, that it had not been madness that had drove me to kill what once had been my dear friend. It was not but pure greed that influenced the deed. I have always been a greedy man, that’s why I spend my days counting peoples money. You may feel that I am a wicked and cruel man, which I can not deny. But I am not, have never been, nor will I ever be mad. I looked at the body that now lay in front of me. His once golden hair now stained red with blood; his young and bright face now pale and devoid of life. This was perhaps the only time I have felt what might be mistaken for regret. It wasn’t quite regret, it was more an emptiness that is hard to describe. Whatever it was I felt I recovered quickly and moved the corpse onto the bed of the truck. I then tucked the knife deep into my coat pocket and drove off. I had barely driven a couple of miles when a police car waved me down. I pulled over immediately. My heart was in my throat. A police officer got out of the car and walked over to my window. The man’s face was very corpse-like; without any of the fat one might find in a normal cheek. He seemed rather old but he had a bit of spring in his step and a youthful energy. He had little hair and what he had was as grey as a sheep dog. His right eye’s expression seemed blank and distant, indicating that the eye could no longer see. “Do you know why I pulled you over?” he asked. Despite his serious tone, his voice was very innocent sounding and full of as much youth as his strut was. “Because of the dead body I have on the bed of my car?” I asked jokingly. He laughed at my joke but checked under the sheet I had used to hide the body. Fortunately, I had covered the body with two blankets. So, when he looked underneath, all he saw was another blanket. “No”, he said with a wide smile, showing his disgustingly yellow teeth, “Your left taillight is out. You should have it fixed.” “Yes”, I said, trying to hide the relief in my voice, “I’ve been trying to do that, but I haven’t recently found the time. Besides, I’ve just recently come into some money so I think I’ll buy a new one.”
The officer allowed me to get back on my way, and he returned to his car. I drove off, glad to be rid of the man. But, I couldn’t help looking in the cracked rearview mirror to see if the bosy was still there. Finally, I reached the river that ran by near my town. I dumped the body in and watched the water turn to red, then quickly back to its original color. I then washed my arms and hands, which were covered with blood, and the dagger in my coat pocket. It was here that I noticed something rather odd. I told you before that I had counted the rubies on the hilt back where I had found it, and there had been twelve. But now, I counted again and noticed a small thirteenth ruby. “It is so small”, I thought to myself; I probably just didn’t notice it before.” I decided this must have been the truth, got in the truck and drove back home. (To be continued in the next issue of Expresso)
Poetry by Sophia Weissman fair justice, eyes cloudy and sightless blindly weighs life on her copper scales the weights are perfectly even, the balance in a surreal harmony this is not a metaphor for human existence i feel like an egg my desperate barriers have turned into thin white shells i know I have golden treasure inside deep down, it is shining and delicate but all anyone sees is my cracked shields with insubstan-
Confused With Thought
by Cheryl Klein
Confused with thought, my hand moist with sweat
My pen in total trust of my meek hand Besieged by ideas, to choose one I fret When completed will my statement still stand?
The clock’s hidden hands continues its journey
Mocking as time passes, at my life wasted
Scorning with a smile at my misery, Laughing at my contemplation Sweat tears drip
? ? Page 17
Following in His Walk, Absently By Alexander Kulczycki I hear a whisper, like that of a dying star Beyond the holy doors they sway A church of bladed grass Blown by the cool autumn winds. The coal in the candle’s flame Sizzles and smokes A symphony of snap crackle pop Placed in the expectant censor, Frankincense fills the sacristy Smoke snakes around the icons and crosses. Dressed in my cassock wielding the censor Ready to hand it to my Father
Want to see your name in print? Your Poem/Story/ Artwork Could be
It’s easy to Submit E-mail your work to [email protected]
Drop your work in the Expresso Box at the Reference Desk
Join our Expresso Staff! After a summer hiatus
Quite Some Time Ago - by Anonymous
Quite some time ago, I was heading toward, An extremely large adventure, When in a classroom I got bored. Now the day was hot and sunny, And I barely was awake, When I noticed that a Lady’s school, Happened to be right across the lake. So quietly I slipped away, Noticed by only few. And on the banks of the lake, There happened to be a canoe. Now I pause, but you must know, That I was very young. So I thought to tease a Girl, Would be some great good fun.
I rowed across lake, And She was standing there, Looking very pretty,
With brownish auburn hair. Ah, I fell in love, or rather, I rowed, For She was wearing a whitish dress. But the reason must have been that She was looking at Her very best.
So instead we talked awhile,
10 THINGS TO DO This Summer
Take a nice longgg walk around town. You’ll be surprised at how many houses, stores and places you see that you never knew were here.
Make up your own recipe for a smoothie. And have you and your friends create a Smoothie Cookbook together…which you can save and share with your children one day.
Get a Gmail account! You can email people and chat to them at the same time. Gmail also offers a LOT of storage, which is helpful if you and your friends decide to send lots of group emails over the summer. To get a Gmail account, you have to find someone who already has one and have them send you an invitation.
Make a collage. Pull out some old and/or new photos and cut them out and paste them onto poster board. Add words, slogans or quotes. Keep it for yourself or give it to a friend and tell them how much they mean to you!
Go on a picnic. Pack a lunch and walk to Donaldson or Johnson Park. In Johnson Park you can visit the zoo or East Jersey Olde Towne Village.
Ride your bike. There are some new bike paths on the Rutgers campus. Ride through Johnson Park and follow the bike path signs. Don’t forget your helmet. Keep your eye out, you are likely to see lots of deer, beaver and other wildlife.
Keep a journal. It doesn’t have to be daily. Just keep a notebook by your bed and jot down your thoughts. It’s a great way to reflect on what’s going on in your life and you will love looking back on it one day.
Collect your favorite quotes, poetry or music lyrics in a notebook. We are all inspired by others. Why not keep track of those thoughts that are meaningful to you. They make great bedtime reading and are a nice way to personalize thank you notes, holiday or birthday cards.
Have a bake sale and donate the proceeds to your favorite charity.
Join your neighbors on the Avenue for Random Acts of Fun every other Thursday night during the summer.
The Journey in Nature by Glenn Harrison I walk through a valley of flowers. The sky so high, so blue, so new, The birds sing a song. The birds grow and grow. This I know. The wind is so fast. The knowledge I hold is true and bold. I walk in the mountains day and night. I fight with all my might. I fly like an eagle with its wings, So high above all living things. Nature is more than rings. I see change all around me The clouds get darker, this I see. The waters turn to rain. It pours out of the clouds. The thunder is so loud. The storm came with all its rain. Then it passes so fast. Then the sun came out with a shout. I saw the light in my sight. It was so bright. Then in the night I was in a tree Next to the bees on my knees.
from Expresso, Winter 06)
By Rebecca George A man darted out of the shadows, and ran up to me. He got out a knife and held it to my throat. "Give me all your money, or this knife is gonna move forward a few inches." I don't know why I did what I did next. "CHEESE MONSTER!!!" I shouted. He smirked at me. "You can call me a monster all you want, but it isn't gonna help y-" His expression turned to terror, because in front of him was a giant cheese monster! His eyes got wide with fear. "What... ARE you?" he whispered, then turned and ran. "Dissipate" I whispered, and the cheese monster disappeared. I turned around and looked at all the people in Melissa's party. "Ok, let's get some funnel cakes!" ********* "Hey, David." I was surprised that Melissa still wanted to talk to me after I completely ruined her party. "David? Earth to David!" I shook myself out of my thinking stupor "Oh, sorry Marissa." I said. "Don't worry, you always space out." "No, I mean, sorry for ruining your party." I looked down at the ground and shuffled my feet.
Melissa grinned at me. "Why? It's not your fault that someone with a projector decided to wreak havoc." "I don't think that was projected. It looked real." "Duh! It wouldn't be convincing otherwise!" Melissa said, now slightly annoyed, "Bye." "Bye" I said, to no one but myself. ********** Must.... stay......awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaake.....I hate school......... "Mr. Bennet! Can you PLEASE tell me what kind of bat eats fruit?" Ms. Bronwyn shouted. "A fruit bat...?" I mumbled. "Righ-OH MY GOD!!!!!" There was a giant swarm of fruit bats coming through the door! "Everyone out!" Ms. Bronwyn shouted. Everyone in the class ran out the window, and on to the fire escape. "There goes weird David again..." someone who had been at Marissa's party muttered. I was sent home. Well, that could have gone better. **************** The doorbell rang. And since my parents were off drunk somewhere, again, I bolted down the spiral stairs and got the door. There were two people in army uniforms. One was a man, the other was a woman. "Is your big brother home?"
"Big brother? I don't have any siblings." "WHAT?!" the man turned to the woman "the 'reality' person is a @&%# - ing KID?!" Reality person? Oh no... somehow, the incident at school, or at the boardwalk must have gotten around to the military. Wait a second. Boardwalk. The gypsy. 'You will receive an amazing gift, a gift unique in this world....' What she predicted, it was happening! The lady spoke. "Kid-" She looked at a file inside the folder she was carrying. “David” you're supposed to come with us." "No." The lady smiled at me, showing waaaaaay too many teeth. "Sorry, David, you have to. Or we'll have to shoot you." "I'm not going to some “lab” to have tests done on me for the rest of my life!!!!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. The man shrugged. "It's your life, kid. Or lack of it." And they raised their guns, and started to pull the trigger....… (to be continued in our next issue of Expresso)
Love By Anastasia Marie Morrow Love is what holds us together, Love, is what can bring happiness. Love, is the most powerful thing of all. Love, can be expressed in many ways, Like love, hugs, kisses and family. Family is where I belong, In my family I am the most happiest person you could know. But when you take my family away… You are taking my love away, all of it. I can say I love you,
Heroes By Loren Matilsky
You are not a brave man, nor a hero—nay. But if you flinch, let not your soul be soured, Even if you sometimes turn and run away, You shall never be degraded as a coward. But run on purpose, and try not to be brave, Then you will forever not be strong, Be regarded as a coward till the grave, And never will admit that you were wrong. But try too hard, and you will be your enemy, For the when the truth finally is unfurled, You cannot join the long lost legacy, Of the worshipped heroes of this world. For, a hero simply knows he would have braved
Game hints, tips, and tricks In The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, when you’re at Windfall Island after you get the bombs, sail one quadrant (square on your sea chart) southeast to get to an island with a bomb upgrade on it. You’ll need it later. (Item needed: bombs) If you beat the game in The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, you can replay the game with Link wearing his PJs. In The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker, if you sail two quadrants (squares on your sea chart) east from Outset island, you’ll get to Two-Eye Reef. There’s a Big Octo somewhere around the reef (look for the flock of seagulls) If you kill it, your magic meter will double in size. (Item needed: Boomerang)
Have a tip you’d like to share?
Editorials (Views expressed are those of the author and not the necessarily the library and/or Expresso staff) Send your comments to [email protected]
Response to Not a Diatribe which was printed in Expresso, Winter ‘06. Respectfully submitted by Loren Matilsky. There is a man living in the White House right now. His name is George Walker Bush Junior. Most of the time, however, you won’t find him in Washington, because he’s on vacation. 43 percent of the time. At this moment Bush is waging a war on Iraq, because Saddam Hussein is a terrorist. Wait, no, that would be Osama Bin Laden. Hussein is the one with the invisible weapons of mass destruction. Also, you must realize that the war in Iraq has nothing to do, incidentally, with the fact that Iraq has more than a third of the world’s oil supply. Ah yes, oil! The foundation of America. If you were living in America in 2001, you would be able to buy gasoline for the cheap price of 1.89. If you were living in America, some time in August in 2005, you would be able to buy gasoline for the not-so-cheap price (if my memory is not mistaken) of 3.67. Now, as you might know, the war in Iraq started in 2001, and—Ah! Could it be that there’s a connection? I wonder… Anyway, I should—at this moment—state that America is the richest country in the world. But to be the richest country in the world, America didn’t steal stuff from some other country. America stole stuff from a whole lot of other countries. No, sorry, it’s not technically stealing. America doesn’t classify stealing as paying some six-year-old kid a quarter per day when this boy or girl has no money, has no family, and, basically, has no other choice. It’s cruel, it’s wrong, but it’s not stealing. So, back to the wonderful and righteous war in Iraq. A year ago, George Bush declared official victory in Iraq. That’s impossible, though, as Bush hasn’t declared official war yet. That’s right, we’re actually not fighting two wars. We’re not even fighting one. American presidents don’t declare a war until after they’ve won it. George Bush has declared official victory in Iraq around three times over the past five years. And yet, our troops remain. Perhaps the reason is because we actually haven’t won the war in Iraq, and George W. Bush is a stupid, lying, scumbag, and that, also, the war in Iraq is carbon copy of the Vietnam War, which—despite what some very incorrect history might say—we haven’t won either. I’m sorry to insult Bush so—no, I shouldn’t lie, I’m not—but I think that he utterly deserves every single slanderous comment and joke that is made against him. Oh yes—and in response to that inspiring speech that someone else wrote for him, “I want no child left behind,” I’d like Bush to go into Iraq and tell that to the starving children that he orphaned. I’d like him to go into China, and Hong Kong, and Japan, and Korea, and all those other places to tell that to the six-year-olds working fourteen hours a day, for 25 U.S. cents. I’m sorry, but I’m not prepared to rejoice in another jerk that’s considered by many to be a president. Dear CK, this is Loren Matilsky. I just want to say that it’s a good idea to bring up your views and what you believe in, but that it’s also a good idea to bring up a reason for why you believe in it. I want to say too, that yes, I Page 30
Looking for good book? ian
Submitted by Michelle Reasso, Teen Librar-
Here are just a few of the books that I have recently enjoyed. Stop by and tell me what you think of these titles and share your favorites with me. I’m always looking for a good read, aren’t you? Down the Rabbit Hole: An Echo Falls Mystery by Peter Abrahams Igrid Levin is a 13 year old soccer player, huge Sherlock Holmes fan and an actress. Cast as Alice in her school play, she uses her talents to solve a mystery as things get “curiouser and curioser” in her hometown of Echo Falls. I am the Messenger by Mark Zusak. About a young man whose life is going nowhere until he finds himself an unsuspecting hero. A few days later he So many books—so little room here! Stop by the Library for a list other recommended titles or to talk to a librarian who can help you
to all who contributed! We are pleased and proud to be able to publish your work for all to see. We are always looking for new ideas and A big THANK YOU
new contributors. You can submit your original work by e-mailing it to
Drop it off in the Expresso Submission Box at the Reference Desk Staff Jane Hand, Editor Michelle Reasso, Advisor Alina Buevich Rebecca George Soyoung Kim Rose Laurano Mary Laurano Zach Laurano Cheryl Klein Loren Matilsky Wendy Pan Sahnaz Saleem Tami Segal George Valenta Sophia Weissman
Highland Park Public Library 31 North Fifth Avenue Highland Park, NJ 08904
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