Science, Scientists, and Society: Public Image and Regard for Science

By Samuel Postma

            “Western Science has been our god” (James 5). In her novel, The Children of Men, P. D. James’s character Theo writes about his culture’s attitude toward science. In James’s bleak vision of 2021, humanity is infertile, and no child has been born for over 20 years. This phenomenon is inexplicable yet accurate nonetheless. Scientists have tried to explain it, but they are unable. Regardless, society continues to worship science as it has in the past. Science is the bringer of all good things, but it requires no homage, and deserting it as desired produces no immediate consequences. About science, Theo notes, “We have felt free to criticize and occasionally reject it as men have always rejected their gods” (5). Humankind considers itself free to accept or reject science—worship or ignore—based on the feelings it evokes.

This reflection on James’s part serves as commentary for modern society. Actual Western culture views science from a peculiar, dualistic approach. Scientists are the subjects of extensive honor and respect in today's society. If a scientist speaks, the public listens. Little question is given about whether the speaker is correct or qualified to address the present subject. However, society chooses to dismiss scientists’ advice, recommendations, and arguments when they find them inconvenient or uncomfortable. If the scientist speaks about a political topic, people are far more willing to dismiss their opinions than if the matter were not political. For a Christian scientist, this somewhat arbitrary dynamic poses an intense conundrum. That Christian should be concerned about idolizing science, illogically rejecting or accepting the opinion of so-called experts, their potentially positive position as a societal leader, and the worldview to which those who listen to them ascribe. Believing scientists must prayerfully consider their role in the world and how best to interact with it. They must handle the authority science holds carefully, as good stewards of it, in a manner that glorifies God. This essay seeks to evaluate the present state of society’s perception of science in both our culture’s appreciation and distrust of the subject. It will then consider applicable leadership approaches Christians in their research fields could apply. These leadership approaches will inform the specific recommendation for scientists that follows afterward.

Society’s Views of Science

            The first portion of the issue that must be addressed is society’s respect for scientific pursuits. According to Kennedy et al., 77% of the public believes scientists deserve a fair amount of trust and that they will act according to society’s success (5). Medical scientists received a score of 78% for a “fair amount of confidence” in 2022 (Kennedy et al. 5). These statistics show a strong majority, although room for distrust still exists. They indicate that the public trusts scientists to act in their interests more than society trusts politicians or other groups (Funk 87). Public support for scientists places them as the most authoritative group in society, traditionally considered “experts.”

Contributors to Society’s Views: Empiricism

            Several possible reasons and factors contribute to our culture’s respect for science and those that engage in the process. Among them is a worldview, or framework for understanding reality, labeled empiricism. Lisle explains that empiricism argues that people can only acquire knowledge through observations, experiences, and tests (Ultimate Proof 38). This belief system became prominent during the Enlightenment (“3 Enlightenment”). It was the Age of Reason when intellect and scientific discovery were glorified. Experimental verification was elevated above other forms of knowledge. Likely, Western culture’s historical roots in this Age of Reason are at least partially responsible for its acceptance and propagation of the empirical worldview. An emphasis on experiment-based knowledge would explain why those who engage in such endeavors are considered most trustworthy.

Empiricism’s Godlessness

            However, empiricism as the ultimate authority of truth represents a thoroughly unbiblical viewpoint. Proverbs 9:10 and Colossians 2:3 indicate that only in God does knowledge begin. Jesus states that He is truth (John 14:6). If knowledge begins in God, then humanity should begin its rational investigations dependent on Him, starting their reality exploration by acknowledging and submitting themselves to Almighty God (Bahnsen 165-166). Knowledge itself is based on God; it is only by common grace, and God’s image in them, that the unbeliever can ascertain truth (Lisle, Intro to Logic 9-11). Christian scientists cannot rationally accept this valorized view of empiricism given its inconsistency with their professed faith.

            A Christian scientist has further reasons to reject empiricism beyond its incongruence with their beliefs. God is a rational entity (Bahnsen 98). Furthermore, God is the standard for rationality as He is the absolute Being (Lisle, Intro to Logic 7). Given these premises, it is natural to conclude that if empiricism is unbiblical, it will also be illogical. Lisle explains that empiricism is a self-defeating belief system (Ultimate Proof 38). Empiricism argues all knowledge must be experimentally or observationally verified. However, it is a knowledge statement itself, and it cannot be experimentally verified because it is an abstract concept. Empiricism is inconsistent with itself and cannot, therefore, be deemed true (38). Despite the worldview’s logical failure, it remains popular throughout society and even among Christians (38). Scientists should not accept illogical beliefs because they are individuals dedicated to discovering the world’s workings.

Empiricism’s Irrationality

            Knowledge’s foundation in God, however, does not prohibit engaging in experimental pursuits. Scientists have proposed many statements about the nature of the physical world that appear to reflect accurately how the universe behaves. This truth is a perplexing fact when the thinker notes that scientific reasoning appears superficially fallacious. Most attempts to understand the world empirically involve observation, explanation, prediction, testing, revision, and repeating the cycle. Ostensibly, if the explanation for observations consistently predicts the outcome, scientists may have confidence that their explanation is at least partially correct. However, a significant problem with this reasoning exists. It follows the format of a formal fallacy known as “Affirming the Consequent” (Lisle, Discerning Truth 70-72). According to this fallacy, if p then q; q, therefore p. However, there may be many other causes other than p that yield q. As an example, astronomers used to believe the sun orbited the earth. Now, they know that the earth orbits the sun. The observations possessed by ancient astronomers, paired with their explanations of the available data, did align with each other. Their explanations (p) would align with their observations (q). However, a simpler explanation, where the sun remained immobile, also explained q, even though this view was disregarded for centuries. Much of science follows this method of reasoning. Despite its being fallacious, it successfully discovers fact. The unstated assumption that corrects this fallacy is the belief that the world behaves consistently. Through trial and error, a scientist can progressively reach more correct explanations of the world’s functions (70–72). Nonetheless, the assumption of consistency is itself extremely difficult to rationalize. It is logically necessary because humans rely upon uniformity when using their physical brains. What most of the secular world misses, though, is that justifying the assumption of consistency requires an appeal to an outside, consistent, sovereign force. Only God satisfies the requirements of being sovereign Creator, the Determiner of reality, and eternally uniform. As a result, only God accounts for the founding principle of science (Lisle, Ultimate Proof 62-63). Experimental pursuits are not ungodly. Instead, they are God-honoring as they find justification in His nature. It is the elevation of experimentation to the level of empiricism that is idolatrous and illogical.

Reacting to Empiricism

            Even though excessive acceptance of scientific claims is an issue that Christian scientists should attempt to address and be mindful of, its existence is a present reality; moreover, Christians may use it positively. Society’s trust in science positions the scientist in a unique role in culture and gives them a particular kind of power. However, this power is not something to be misused or wielded carelessly. Christian scientists have a responsibility to use the things given to them for God's glory. Scientists should seek to use their positions in society to spread the Gospel and the truth. They should always try to provide accurate information so that they do not deceive others. At the same time, they must reframe the public’s perception of them for the culture’s benefit. As teachers, they will be held accountable by God, according to James 3:1.

Social Skepticism Towards Science

            However, society has not given itself over to science completely. Just as a fictional culture chooses to dismiss science when it feels compelled to in The Children of Men, so Western culture remains somewhat skeptical of scientists. Although scientists in general hold one of the highest levels of public trust among social groups, the statistics mentioned earlier show that society still questions them (Funk 86; Kennedy et al. 4). According to a poll conducted by the Pew Research Center, while most of society does place some confidence in scientists, only 29% of people placed significant confidence in them in 2022 (Kennedy et al. 4). Near the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, this statistic stood at 40%—much higher (4). This correlation suggests that factors involved with the pandemic may have impacted public confidence in scientists. However, according to Funk, even in 2017, the public was careful with its trust in scientific researchers (86). While confidence presents one issue for Christian scientists to address, lack of trust in the scientific community presents another.

Skepticism’s Desirability

            A rational degree of skepticism for scientists is crucial for maintaining logical thought and accountability within the scientific community. Appealing to an expert’s authority about any topic requires care to avoid committing the informal fallacy of a Faulty Appeal to Authority (Lisle, Intro to Logic 145-148). The expert must be an expert specifically on the subject under scrutiny (146). This can be troublesome since the scientific field is incredibly diverse. An expert in biology may be an expert on one biological protein but only know the basics of environmental science. Also, no person should ever treat a human authority as infallible. Between the Fall in Genesis 3 and humanity’s natural limitations, it is possible for the most well-intentioned scientist, the appeal to whom meets all logical criteria, to be incorrect (147). An appeal to an expert should also never replace personal analysis of available data and rational thought. Expert opinions should be supplementary or invoked when it is not feasible to investigate a given claim (146). Lastly, any appeal to authority must be careful to observe biases and worldviews that might influence the expert's opinion (147). For instance, a scientist with an empirical worldview may dismiss evidence that researchers could use to support the existence of God. These qualifications mean that society should maintain some skepticism toward claims made by scientists.

            To an extent, our present culture does recognize the above requirements. Unlike in The Children of Men, many areas where the public doubts scientists’ motives are the most reasonable areas to doubt them. Society questions scientists most when they speak to highly controversial issues, despite being within their field of expertise. Examples include global warming, modifying food genetically, and vaccinating children (Funk 86). Another example might be statements about the functionality of masks or the reliability and safety of the COVID-19 vaccines. The decline in public trust in scientists over the past two years of the pandemic is dramatic (Kennedy et al. 4–5). Global warming and the pandemic are highly political issues where scientists may be more inclined to give biased claims based on economic motivation or political bent. Although this doubt may sometimes mean the public rejects thorough and accurate research, maintaining a healthy degree of skepticism about controversial topics is valuable.

Social Factors Impacting Society’s Views

            Unfortunately, several outside factors impact skepticism or trust in science besides careful analysis of an authority’s qualifications. Among them is political affiliation. In 2022, Republicans are showing significantly less confidence in scientists, likely due to their beliefs regarding the COVID-19 pandemic. Only 15% of Republicans have a great deal of confidence, and 34% say they have little to no confidence in the scientific community (Kennedy et al. 7). These numbers have decreased from pre-pandemic numbers, though they were never especially high (7). Conversely, over 40% of Democrats continue to have higher confidence levels in the scientific community, though COVID-19 also adversely affected these statistics (7). Before the coronavirus outbreak, there was a noticeable difference between Black, Hispanic, and White groups. Although no group lacked significant confidence in scientists, Black individuals expressed less confidence than those who were White (8–9). The pandemic has reduced these confidence numbers and leveled them out so that all three groups express similar degrees of trust (8). Political affiliation and racial identity may unduly affect trust in scientists.

            Worldviews and pre-existing beliefs will naturally affect skepticism toward various arguments. Assuming one’s assumptions are correct and the justification for said distrust is sound, the hesitancy is warranted and right. Nonetheless, just as society can place more confidence in scientists than is wise, its doubt in them can also produce issues. Too much concern may cause the individual to reject valuable and even lifesaving information. Much research and extensive discussion exist about using vaccines to prevent disease. Distrust of researchers may cause communities to avoid such vaccinations, increasing the incidence of disease within their group. The rejection of medical recommendations for treating diseases may exacerbate the issue. Unsubstantiated fear of new practices based on previous mistakes may cause society to reject the best option for solving issues. At the very least, rejection of scientific research may cause a group to lose credibility among their peers, silencing their voice. A delicate balance exists between healthy skepticism and reasonable acceptance of the claims espoused by scientists.

Responding to the Data

            A scientist who believes Christ’s claims and affirms the Christian faith faces a puzzling dilemma. They live and work in a culture that sometimes gives them more authority than they may believe is right. They work with colleagues and speak to people who hold an unbiblical worldview they must confront. However, their role also gives them a special ability to speak into people’s lives and give God glory. They must use this privileged status well. At the same time, society questions them healthily, which should give the researcher some comfort of accountability. Because of various historical events, some groups overcompensate for their previous trust and doubt scientists more than might be wise. A Christian scientist must simultaneously help people embrace scientific research while encouraging them to remain skeptical when appropriate. The best way to encourage this balance of beliefs is for Christian scientific community members to engage in authentic and transformational leadership practices. Both theories emphasize openness and positive relationships. By utilizing them, a leader in a scientific field may successfully navigate complex trust issues within culture.

Transformational Leadership

            The first theory the reader should consider is Transformational Leadership. This leadership model focuses on the leader’s responsibility to transform their followers and the environment around them so that their followers become more effective in their roles. It emphasizes trust, integrity, creating a vision, empowering those around the leader to become leaders themselves, and living out the values affirmed by the group. Kouzes and Posner describe two particular practices included in this leadership approach that may be particularly valuable for Christian scientists (43–45, 47–48). As leaders of society, scientists should be careful in how they live and interact with the culture so that they demonstrate a proper understanding of science’s place in the world (43–45). They should be cautious not to affirm empiricism in their lives or research. They should maintain proper respect for their and others’ fields while also recognizing their limitations. Scientists must exercise caution and care with their language (47–48). Their words may determine how those with whom they speak perceive their research. It is the scientist's responsibility to represent their research and authority properly. Their language will influence their listeners’ understandings of reality in a positive or negative way. By speaking and living well, Christian scientists will serve as godly ambassadors for their scientific field, demonstrating the rightful position experimental pursuits should hold in society.

Authentic Leadership

            Another leadership theory that scientists can utilize is Authentic Leadership. This leadership model emphasizes openness about one’s thoughts, attitudes, and intentions (Gardner et al. 1121). It describes the importance of being aware of one's biases and taking care to overcome them while maintaining an integrous commitment to professed moral beliefs (1123). Leaders must commit to developing themselves, being relationally transparent, and adapting to challenges (1121, 1123). Believing scientists should also seek to be open about their research. They should publicly acknowledge its faults and strengths. They should actively seek engagement with members of society in roles radically different than their own. Scientists must note their faults and confess when they possess motives that might not be conducive to unbiased research. These practices may assist scientists in fostering a more appropriate public image for science.

A Specific Recommendation

             These leadership models give broad suggestions for actions and approaches scientists can take to address the issues facing their communities and society as a whole. But there are concrete tools they may use as well. One action that scientists may take to begin the process of reaching a more balanced cultural disposition is engaging in and returning to rigorous peer review. Peer review has been a long-standing practice in scientific research since it started in 1665 (Kharasch et al. 1). However, the Internet, society’s need for efficiency, and the demands of the COVID-19 pandemic have reduced scientists’ concern with honest, extensive peer review (2). Posting articles before they have been adequately reviewed leads to misinformation, which abuses science’s power and leads to public distrust (2). Although the public should be cautious about what it accepts as true and to what it ascribes authority, scientists have the first responsibility to test and ensure the truth of what they publish (3). Peer review better ensures the scientific accuracy of what is presented. Practicing it communicates the potential fallibility inherent in human research endeavors while also bolstering public confidence in the truth and clarity of what is communicated (1). While slower, it helps scientists steward their leadership position in a given culture, limiting society’s excessive confidence while building legitimate trust in scientific fields.

Final Thoughts

             The issues facing a faithful Christian in the scientific field are extensive and convoluted. They should be concerned about having too much power in society’s eyes. An overreach of power reduces their accountability and misrepresents the authority scientists should possess. The believer must attempt to temper the value culture imposes on science. However, when our culture overcompensates or lacks due confidence in research, the scientist must advocate for a field that honors and glorifies God as it engages with His creation. The Christian scientist must hold these two principles in hand, recognizing that they are not contradictory. Instead, a fine balance may be struck between the two. To communicate these concepts, scientists should seek to emulate values expressed in Transformational and Authentic Leadership. Among these values are openness, authenticity, integrity, and adherence to ethical standards. One specific practice the Christian scientist may take to apply these theories is holding strictly to peer review. By slowing the publication and posting of research, as well as seeking the advice and feedback of peers, the scientist increases the reliability and integrity of their research. They foster an accurate public image. Ultimately, the believer must seek to handle their leadership role in a manner that glorifies God. They must steward the power they have to edify others and serve God’s Kingdom. Their final responsibility is to their King, acting as ambassadors for Him. As teachers, instructors, and stewards of truth, they hold a special responsibility. In this way, they truly embody the sentiment put forth by the Apostle James in the Bible: “Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly” (James 3:1).

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Agenda.” The Leadership Quarterly, vol. 22, no. 6, 2011, pp. 1120–1145.

James, P. D. The Children of Men. Vintage Books, 2006.

Kennedy, Brian, et al. “Americans’ Trust in Scientists, Other Groups Declines.” Pew Research

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Trust.” Anesthesiology, vol. 134, no. 1, Jan. 2021, pp. 1–6. EBSCOhost,

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Becoming an Exemplary Leader. Jossey-Bass, 2018.

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God’s Image, Justice, and Mercy: How Christian Faith Engages the Death Penalty

By Samuel Postma

            “So, God made mankind in His own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” (Genesis 1:27, NIV Study Bible). This verse forms the foundation of a biblical reflection on capital punishment, where the legal system uses execution as a penalty for particular crimes. It is an incredibly controversial topic, involving confounding questions of practicality, implementation, and ethical values. The conclusion about the issue may depend, in part, on which of these specific variables receive scrutiny. However, the complexity does not require that the subject lack an objective answer. It is important to assume objective morality even if the correct answer is difficult to ascertain. Concluding anything about capital punishment does require careful thought and prayer. The variables cause the analyzer to inquire after one principal question that informs all others: Is it a just practice to execute someone for a crime they committed? From a biblical perspective, execution is—in fact—fundamentally ethical to construct a framework for understanding the death penalty.

            Before any moral question can receive analysis, the thinker must presume an ethical standard (McDowell & McDowell lx-lxi). The following argument assumes a Christian worldview with the Bible as its foundation. Also, even if the audience were not devout believers, a Christian perspective is the only reliable method for finding the truth about any matter (Bahnsen 305). Although unbelievers can discover truth, they do so by inconsistently assuming Christian principles while simultaneously rejecting others (Lisle, The Ultimate Proof 77-79). They can find truth, but it is by God’s grace and His image in them (77–78). Therefore, it is only rational to begin a discussion about the ethics of the death penalty by assuming Christian presuppositions.

            Among these assumptions is the belief that the Bible, at its original writing, was the divinely inspired revelation from God (see 2 Timothy 3:16–17). As a result, every doctrine or statement about reality and history it espouses is factual (Lisle, Understanding Genesis 35). Another assumption is that the copies of that original Scripture are faithful translations and transcriptions, accurately representing the original meaning to today’s audience (McDowell & McDowell 42–91, 122–123). Christians also assume that there is no higher standard for truth, logic, thought, ethics, or reality than Yahweh (Bonhoeffer 58). God is the final arbiter of justice and truth. He judges all things as He is the absolute standard. This feature also means that human intellect must always exist in submission to God’s revealed truth (Bahnsen 146). Logic is only logical because it is how God thinks (Lisle, Intro to Logic 7). Morality and justice are only correct because they are either how God would act or that which conforms with His will (Bonhoeffer 41, 58). Therefore, ethics begin as general principles that remain unchanging and absolute based on God’s nature. They remain so as more circumstantial variables enter consideration because God is sovereign and remains unchanging. The ethical value of a moral decision remains absolute even when the correct response to a situation is individual-dependent. These assumptions suffice as an introduction to Christian presuppositions.

            As a few final prefaces before entering the debate, few secular objections deserve attention here, since the Christian community itself finds ample reasons protest against capital punishment. Most concerns about the paper's conclusions and arguments will be protests put forward by self-proclaimed Christians. This approach does not dismiss secular objections. It is intended only to limit the scope of a broad topic. Unbelievers’ complaints about many issues frequently result from faulty, unbiblical assumptions, which should surprise no one (Lisle, The Ultimate Proof 77–79). Commonly, addressing them requires an exercise in apologetics, which goes beyond the scope of this essay on capital punishment. Also, Scripture does prescribe the death penalty for sins besides murder (see Exodus 21:15–17, 22:19; Leviticus 20:9–10, 13, 27). There are reasonable arguments for continuing to practice execution for such crimes as rape (see Deuteronomy 22:25–27). To keep the focus on the viability of capital punishment today, one must focus on murder specifically. On this topic, the Bible remains ambiguous. Christians must think logically and carefully (Lisle, Discerning Truth 12–13). Therefore, they should consider practical and social justice concerns along with theological concerns. However, believers should provide a foundation from which to ask such implementation questions, not to hypothesize. These restrictions will focus the question at hand and narrow its scope to best address the questions posed.

            The first question that the Christian thinker who is pondering the death penalty must consider is whether Scripture condones, condemns, or remains neutral on the practice (Chatraw and Prior 315). Scripture is not silent about the death penalty; in fact, the Bible addresses the subject on numerous occasions from beginning to end. Some doctrines and verses, however, give conscientious Christians pause, as they can sound seemingly contradictory. We must give the various nuances of this topic reasonable consideration.

            Genesis provides its readers with the first instance of God’s commanding His people to practice capital punishment (see Genesis 9:5–6). These verses both present the commandment and explain why God acquiesces to this tragic practice. The given justification is that God made humans in His image, which gives every human being inherent value to Him . Although God is Spirit, and no physical image will ever represent Him accurately, physical realities can reflect His divine qualities. These characteristics are embodied by people, if only in a limited fashion. Among these qualities are rational thought, emotions, consciousness, spirituality, communal orientation, language, appreciation of beauty, and creativity (Lisle, Understanding Genesis 163; Overstreet 54; Phillips). The human being is God's representation of Himself as a testament to His glory and power.

            Dishonoring God is considered sacrilegious, tantamount to a direct rebellion against God. Moreover, this affront to God’s divinity is equivalent to treason (McKenna 27). Every sin deserves death and receives the same overall punishment. However, some sins are more egregious with more horrific consequences (“Are All Sins the Same” n. pg). Sacrilege that approaches blasphemy is among these transgressions—one of the closest things to a direct attack on God. Destroying or dishonoring the life of another human being operates as disrespecting an image-bearer of God, and by extension Him, in the most extreme way possible. As a result, God commands His people to punish it in the severest way open to them: taking from the perpetrator what they took from the victim. Execution is the natural consequence of desecrating God’s image.

            Objections to the death penalty carry valid concerns. Some Christians argue that taking the life of a death row inmate is the equivalent of murder as the executioner destroys the life of another one of God’s image-bearers (Chatraw and Prior 312). It is true that the murderer is also an image-bearer of God and that their life has inherent value. However, when the murderer took the victim’s life, they removed one of God’s examples of His divine image (imago Dei) from the world. The victim was and always will be God’s property, but[BB1]  their valuable presence has ceased. To pay for this thievery, the murderer must provide something equally precious. The perpetrator must pay with their own life for them to even begin to pay their debt to God. Of course, their crimes against God are vast as they sinned against the infinitely holy God, so only a life of limitless worth can pay for them (Lisle, “The Trinity”). Christ is the only One Who can adequately pay for any sin. Life is the only thing that the murderer possesses worth enough to be exchanged for the victim’s life. In this way, the death penalty affirms the value of human life. It does not deny it.

            Although Genesis 9:6 forms the cornerstone of the argument for the death penalty, other verses also support the practice. God commands that anyone who maliciously murders someone must die (see Exodus 21:12–14). He provides context by explaining that intentions should receive consideration in punishment. If taking the victim's life was unintentional, then the death penalty is not warranted. Likewise, God again commands execution for those committing murder in Leviticus 24:17. This commandment occurs within the context of dealing with a blasphemer of God’s name. Again, in Numbers 35:6–34, God explains that any death occurring because of malice or hatred constitutes murder; therefore, the murderer must be executed. However, accidental deaths are not included. God institutes several provisions, including a non-biased court, witnesses, and protection against revenge for the accused murderer while also ensuring that those who are guilty receive their due penalty. These Old Testament regulations and instructions bolster the argument for capital punishment.

            God is the definer of justice; He never commands anything contrary to His justice. Therefore, capital punishment is just by definition. However, this conclusion does not settle the theological debate about its morality. There remains a concern about whether society should continue to practice execution given the revelation of the New Testament. God grants mercy and forgiveness to people deserving of death in the Old and New Testaments. Christ’s death atones even for the demise of murderers. He calls Christians to forgiveness and mercy. Many requirements of the Old Testament are no longer binding for Christians because of Christ’s life, sacrifice, and resurrection. Do these principles mean that while capital punishment is just, humanity does not need to continue to practice it?

            The first point to remember is that God institutes capital punishment before the Mosaic Law, because God commands Noah first to institute the death penalty in intentional murder cases. Moreover, it is a moral command and not a ceremonial or food-based law. Christ fulfills the ceremonial laws and atones for believers’ failings in the ethical portions of the Law (see Matthew 5:17, Romans 7:21–25). However, Christ does not nullify the moral Law (see Matthew 5:17–19). Instead, He calls Christians to an even higher standard than what the Old Testament communicated (Matthew 5:20–48). So, the New Testament does not revoke capital punishment.

            In Matthew 5:20, Jesus teaches His listeners that they must be more righteous than the Pharisees to enter heaven, and He later commands perfection (see Matthew 5:48). Sinful humans, by definition, cannot attain this. They need Jesus’ fulfillment of the law and His sacrifice as atonement for their sin. In the same chapter, Christ raises the standard so that even those who may think themselves righteous find themselves humbled. Jesus instructs that just as murder deserves the death penalty, so hatred of a brother deserves eternity in Hell (see Matthew 5:21–22). In doing so, He affirms the justice of capital punishment. Although He may consider it just, the inquiry is not yet resolved.

            One concern is Christ’s salvific work. Jesus forgave sinners, so should not His followers also forgive? Indeed, Christ forgave sinners throughout the Gospels. He forgave the paralyzed man and the woman who poured oil on His feet (Matthew 9:2, Luke 7:48). He forgives even the worst sinners, bringing them into His Kingdom. Even in the Old Testament, God forgives people for crimes that deserve death and does require execution (see 2 Samuel 12:13). These Scriptures affirm God’s forgiveness of even those receiving the death penalty. The thief on the cross who committed a crime worthy of death, according to the Roman executioners, received salvation mere hours before his death (see Luke 23:43).In these examples, God is the Forgiver, not humanity. It would be presumptuous to assume that judicial systems should ignore justice because God has chosen to apply His forgiveness in particular instances. These cases all involve repentance or faith from the perpetrator. God does not randomly forgive, as salvation is based on faith, and only acceptance of Christ’s infinite sacrifice could atone for the sin that deserves death (see Ephesians 2:8). Christ forgives all sins, not select transgressions. Humanity cannot spiritually forgive any sin. There is certainly precedent for carefully applied mercy, as there is for justice.

            Justice and mercy are not opposites since God is both (see Exodus 34:6-7). He cannot deny or contradict Himself (see 2 Timothy 2:13). Therefore, these abstractions must align with each other. The concept of mercy presupposes justice. Clemency involves withholding punishment, while assuming that there is a rightful punishment. Since God is consistent with Himself, His mercy is just. Hypothetically, it would be possible for God to instantly deal out justice without any consideration of leniency, but not mercy without justice. However, God’s nature is such that He is always merciful (see Psalm 25:10, 89:14, Ephesians 2:4). At worst, He sends some disaster on a people, which might motivate them to cry out at the end. At best, He sustains their existence, giving them numerous opportunities to repent until their death and final judgment. Even sinners who commit the most horrific sins receive the opportunity to repent. He does not remove His breath from them. Implementing the death penalty is not inconsistent with God’s mercy if implemented cautiously and with as much compassion as can be manifested.

            Although we do not always view public servants as distributors of compassion, government is one of God’s tools for accomplishing His justice for victims by dispensing His wrath in this world (see Romans 13:4). The Lord will ultimately balance all scales and cause universal justice and mercy where He chooses (see Revelation 21:6–8). While this world exists, God works through governmental dealings. Therefore, the government has a rightful responsibility to punish wrongdoers for their sins. Paul specifically references a sword, suggesting the use of violence. It is proper for the government to use the death penalty, when applicable, to penalize those inmates who have committed murder.

            While many likely agree that capital punishment is good in theory, some object to the act on a practical basis (“The Case Against the Death Penalty”). Cases frequently occur when a supposed perpetrator appears to have been condemned based on their race in American society (“Facts about the Death Penalty” 2). Even in situations where suspicious factors were not known to be present, innocent people were unjustly condemned, though not necessarily executed (2). There are many opportunities to overturn verdicts, but few sentences are revoked, resulting in false hope. Individuals are left to sit in prison for excessive periods, eventually receiving their execution after suffering dreadful anticipation. The means of death are sometimes ineffective or torturous (Radelet). These issues challenge the moral practice of the death penalty. The person must be guilty of the crime for the penalty to be just; and if they are guilty, the implementation of the sentence must also be just.

            Scripture indicates that execution is just and moral. The justification of requiring the life of the guilty party is based on valuing the victim’s life by taking the life of the murderer, which recognizes and honors God’s image in both individuals. The Mosaic Law again affirms capital punishment, though it highlights the importance of using it carefully. Jesus upholds its importance, and so does Paul. Consistent with scripture, mercy and justice must coexist in the justice system, and Christians should remember that even the rightfully convicted need to hear the gospel. There remains significant doubt whether society currently can consistently implement capital punishment justly. Even so, Christians should recognize the importance of the death penalty as a means to value human life and practice justice. The matter is a solemn and mournful topic. It should remind Christians of their sin and humble them. Let the horrific reality of capital punishment remind believers that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (see Romans 5:8).

Works Cited

“Are All Sins the Same in God's Eyes?” Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, Billy Graham

Evangelistic Association, 1 June 2004, https://billygraham.org/answer/are-all-sins-the-same-

in-gods-eyes/

Bahnsen, Greg L. Van Til's Apologetic: Readings and Analysis. P. & R. Publ., 1998.

Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. Ethics. Touchstone Books, 1995.

“The Case Against the Death Penalty.” Aclu.org, American Civil Liberties Union, 2012,

https://www.aclu.org/other/case-against-death-penalty

Chatraw, Josh D., and Karen Swallow Prior. Cultural Engagement: A Crash Course in

Contemporary Issues. Zondervan, 2019.

“Facts about the Death Penalty.” Deathpenaltyinfo.org, Death Penalty Information Center, 22

Apr. 2022, https://documents.deathpenaltyinfo.org/pdf/FactSheet.pdf

Lisle, Jason. Discerning Truth: Exposing Errors in Evolutionary Arguments. Master Books,

2010. EBSCOhost, https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&AuthType=shib-

sso&db=cat07622a&AN=nul.1868953&site=eds-live&scope=site

---. Introduction to Logic. Master Books, 2018.

---. “The Trinity Part 2: The Three Persons.” Biblicalscienceinstitute.com, Biblical

Science Institute, 2020, https://biblicalscienceinstitute.com/theology/the-trinity-part-2-the-

three-persons/

---. The Ultimate Proof of Creation: Resolving the Origins Debate. Master Books, 2017.

---. Understanding Genesis: How to Analyze, Interpret, and Defend Scripture. Master Books, 2015.

McDowell, Josh, and Sean McDowell. Evidence That Demands a Verdict: Life-Changing Truth

for a Skeptical World. Thomas Nelson, 2017.

McKenna, Terence. “‘Treason against God’: Some aspects of the law relating to

‘ blasphemy’.” Southern Cross University Law Review 5 (2001): 27-46.

NIV Study Bible: New International Version. Zondervan Pub. House, 2011.

Overstreet, R. Larry. “Man in the image of God: a reappraisal.” (2002).

Phillips, Richard. “Man as the Image of God.” Thegospelcoalition.org, The Gospel Coalition,

https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/essay/man-as-the-image-of-god/

Radelet, Michael. “Botched Executions.” Deathpenaltyinfo.org, Death Penalty Information

Center, 2021, https://deathpenaltyinfo.org/executions/botched-executions

 [BB1]Would this conjugation work better as 'and'?

Caldecott Winner Cover Study

By Katana Liebelt

            During the Fall 2020 semester, my Children’s and Adolescent Literature class conducted a cover study using books published by the Christian company Tommy Nelson. We looked at the covers to determine how well these books represent different ethnicities and ages. It was fascinating to study representation in Christian children’s literature, but it was even more interesting to discover that not all the covers represented their main characters. Consequently, determining these books’ quality of representation solely based on their covers was not always accurate. Therefore, I decided to conduct an in-depth cover study using the Caldecott medal winners from 2010 to 2019. I chose to study Caldecott winners for two reasons. First, to discover whether the covers represented the main characters, I needed access to the full texts. Second, Caldecott books are widespread throughout American schools and libraries (Koss et. al 5). This means most children would interact with these books. By choosing accessible books, I ensured that my study was thorough and representative.

Other studies on Caldecotts were challenging to find. Nevertheless, I found two. In 2018, Melanie D. Koss, Nancy J. Johnson, and Miriam Martinez published a study on the Caldecott winners and honors awarded from 1938 to 2017. Koss et al. coded—identifying and recording certain characteristics—for the racial or ethnic diversity of the books’ characters, authors, and illustrators (7). They discovered that most Caldecotts have white main characters, authors, and illustrators (9–11). They also discovered that some books featuring protagonists of color do not have authors or illustrators of that ethnicity (12). For instance, none of the Caldecotts featuring American Indian characters have American Indian authors or illustrators (Koss et. al 12). Koss et. al’s study provided a more thorough study on Caldecotts across time. By including the authors’ characteristics, their study connects author representation with character representation. These authors also published an earlier study in 2016. Headed by Martinez, these authors coded (or designated) the human main characters in the Caldecott winners and honors from 1990 to 2015 (Martinez et. al 19, 21, 24, 25). They code the characters’ culture, ethnicity, gender, age, disability, religion, and socioeconomic status (21–23). They also code the place and time periods the characters live in (22). Based on these categories, Martinez et. al determines how the Caldecott winners and honors function using Rudine Sims Bishop’s categories of mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors (24). Mirrors are books that allow children “to see reflections of themselves and their world” (19). Windows allow children to see into another person’s world (Sims Bishop). And sliding glass doors are books where children step into the different world and are thus affected by it (Martinez et. al 19). Martinez et. al discovered that Caldecotts are usually windows rather than mirrors for most children (24, 25). Both Koss et al.’s and Martinez et al.’s studies code for specific ethnicities or races, such as white, African American, and Asian American. Since Caldecotts are so popular, they should have a variety of ethnicities (Koss et. al 5, 6). Martinez et. al use Sims Bishop’s to explain that children need to see characters like themselves (25). While Martinez et al. make a valid point, children also need windows and sliding glass doors. By reading all three kinds of books, children can experience true diversity, which is variety (“Diversity”). Both studies provide thorough insights on representation, yet they only scratch the surface on this issue.

Therefore, based on these studies, I wanted to analyze the quality of representation in contemporary children’s literature. While Caldecotts do not represent all contemporary children’s literature, they do represent literature that children will most likely encounter. Unlike Martinez et al.’s and Koss et al.’s studies, my study only includes Caldecott winners. Additionally, the term “Caldecott” refers to the Caldecott winners from 2010 to 2019, and it consists of two studies that code the Caldecotts for representation. My first study, “Cover Study,” looks at the characters on the Caldecotts’ covers. I count how many characters appear on the cover based on their species (human, animal, or non-human,/non-animal); age (child or adult); gender (male or female); and ethnicity (white or non-white) if human. After reading the Caldecott winners, I also conducted a second study, called “Main Character Study,” that analyzes the main character or characters’ species, age group (e.g., child, child to adult [young adult], and adult), gender, and ethnicity. Lastly, I determined whether the covers represent the main character. Moreover, my “Main Character Study” accounted for two main characters if necessary, similar to a diversity study conducted by the Cooperative Children’s Book Center (CCBC) (Tyner). I distinguished the main characters by labeling them primary and other. The primary main characters were the ones the Caldecotts focused on. And the other main characters were ones that walked alongside the primary throughout the book.  

Methods & Results

Cover Study

My cover study revealed insightful statistics about the characters on the Caldecott covers. Using the “SUM” function in Excel, I added up how many humans, animals, and non-humans, non-animals appeared on the covers and created a chart (Chart One). My first insight is that animals were the most common subjects. Altogether, the covers feature eight humans, nine animals, and three non-humans/non-animals. Using the “COUNTIF” function in Excel, I discovered that 70% (seven) of these Caldecott covers feature animals (Chart Two). Chart Two sometimes counts books more than once since their covers have both humans and animals. Often the animals in these books are illustrated semi-realistically, meaning they have little to no traditional gender markings.  Consequently, I used the side flaps or previous knowledge of the books to figure out most characters’ genders. Chart Four showed that most covers had male characters.

Fortunately, coding the characters’ ages was relatively easier. Chart Three shows that most characters were adults.  However, I struggled with determining the ages of characters in two books: This is Not My Hat by Jon Klassen and A Ball for Daisy by Chris Raschka. The cover of This is Not My Hat features a small fish swimming (Klassen). Since the fish is alone and the summary does not indicate that it is a child, I coded the fish as an adult. On the cover of A Ball for Daisy, Daisy appears to be a playful, small dog (Raschka). Since this book’s summary calls Daisy a dog instead of a puppy, I coded her as an adult. While coding their covers, I considered that animals’ sizes and personalities did not indicate their age. Overall, coding characters based on the covers is very limiting. Thus, one cannot merely use covers to determine their books’ quality of representation.

Main Character Study

My “Main Character Study” allowed me to study in-depth the characters’ representation since I could read the Caldecotts. For the “Main Character Study,” I created tables, coding the ten primary main characters and the three other main characters. As I stated earlier, some stories have more than one main character which the other main characters account for. Thus, chart 5-8 count both primary and other main characters. Over two-thirds (5) of the main characters are humans; almost half (6) are animals; and over a tenth (2) are non-human, non-animal (Chart Five). Out of all the human characters, 80% (4) appear white and 20% (1) are people of color (Chart Six); the only person of color is Jean-Michel Basquiat from Radiant Child by Javaka Steptoe, who is Haitian and Puerto Rican American.

Out of all the main characters, 25% (3) of them are children; 58% (7) of them are adults; and 17% (2) are child to adult (Chart Seven). In essence, “child to adult” means the main characters age throughout their book. Then, there is gender: of the main characters 54% (7) were male, 31% (4) were female; 7% (1) were not applicable; and 8% (1) were unknown (Chart Eight). I coded the train in Locomotive as not applicable (n/a) since it is an object, and the wolf pup’s gender in Wolf in the Snow as unknown. Wolf in the Snow is wordless and does not indicate the wolf pup’s gender through its illustrations or summary (Cordell). Thus, accessing the whole text allows me to more accurately code characters. Nevertheless, books will always have a few characters that readers cannot readily identify.

Almost all the main characters are represented by their covers, as shown by Chart Nine. Meanwhile, Chart 10 counts both primary and other main characters. Some Caldecott covers represent more than one main character. When I asked the question “does the cover represent the

Main character?”, I coded The Lion and the Mouse by Jerry Pinkney as “yes” and “no.” The lion (the other main character) is featured on the spread, but the mouse is the primary one. I coded the mouse as the primary main character, since the story is primarily told through her perspective. In short, coding for both studies required looking at nuances and guessing.  

Discussion

While I conducted this study, some results surprised me. For example, several Caldecotts feature animals on their covers and as main characters. Seven of the covers have animals, and almost half (6) of all the main characters (including the other main characters) are animals (Chart Five). These Caldecotts were published around the time many people were calling out for diverse representation in literature (We Need Diverse Books 2014). Hence, I expected to see more human main characters, especially ones of color. However, I realized that the American Library Association (ALA) selected these books based on their artistic quality, not on how well they represented various races (Martinez et. al 20). After all, children’s books have more aspects than representation—perhaps the ALA chose books with animals because they resonated with the characters. Often, animal characters have human traits, making them relatable to readers regardless of age, race, or gender.

Additionally, I was also surprised about the main characters’ species. There were two non-human, non-animal main characters (Chart Five). I did not expect to see any non-human, non-animal characters because I assumed Caldecotts would choose books with human main characters. Locomotive by Brian Floca is the best example of this—based on the cover—I assumed Locomotive would be purely informational. I discovered that Locomotive is a descriptive narrative. It shows how trains operated and the itinerary of a train ride in the 1800s (Floca). When describing the train ride, Floca immerses the readers into a white family’s experience by narrating in second person. I chose not to consider the family main characters, since Floca focuses more on the train. Locomotive does not have a main character. However, I coded the train as one for statistical purposes. Therefore, the train is the only main character without age or gender. This explains why the totals in Charts Seven and Eight only add up to 12, instead of 13. The Adventures of Beekle: The Unimaginary Friend by Dan Santat also features a non-human/non-animal main character: Beekle. Beekle is an imaginary friend who resembles neither a human nor an animal (Santat). Unlike Locomotive, The Adventures of Beekle is a traditional narrative which made coding more straightforward. By using non-human, non-animal characters, Caldecotts display how picture books can make any character come alive.

Lastly, I was surprised by the illustration statistics. Only illustrations were used in 30% (3) of the Caldecotts. And 80% (8) of the Caldecotts had the same author and illustrator. These statistics surprised me for different reasons. Picture books typically use both words and drawings. And publishing houses typically choose artists to illustrate picture books for an author’s story (Nofziger). Of course, given that Caldecotts are chosen for artistic merit, illustration-only books would naturally be more common among Caldecotts (Koss et. al 5). Nevertheless, these surprises neither hindered my study nor removed my enjoyment of the books. Instead, they confirmed why one should never judge a book by its cover (literally and figuratively): my first impressions about the books and the Caldecott award system were wrong.

Conclusion

            Based on my studies, the Caldecotts mostly represent animals on their covers. Humans are the next most common species for main characters. Among the humans, most main characters are white. There is only one character of color: Jean-Michel Basquiat in Radiant Child: The Story of the Young Artist Jean-Michel Basquiat by Javaka Steptoe. From 2010 to 2013, the Caldecott covers featured only adults. From 2015 to 2019, they continued to represent mostly adults. Additionally, 58% of all main characters are adults. Most of the characters on the covers and within the main characters are male. According to Sims Bishop’s categories, the majority of these Caldecotts function as windows for most children. In essence, the Caldecotts from 2010 to 2019 do not represent diverse species, ages, ethnicities, and genders. Nevertheless, all these Caldecotts, except one, represent their primary and other main character.

            This study created questions worth exploring in future studies: How well does popular, contemporary children’s literature represent all ethnicities? Do these children’s book covers accurately represent their main characters? Does representation involve external traits, or should it involve characters’ internal traits such as kindness, naivety, curiosity, and obedience? To establish definitions, scholars should ask the same questions I asked during my Main Character Study: What is a main character? What indicates age in children’s books? Can a character’s size or behavior determine this?  How do you code books without a main character? While studies offer knowledge, they also encourage people to excavate more knowledge. 

            Ultimately, diverse representation is important, especially in books that are widespread. Although the Caldecotts from 2010 to 2019 only represent some backgrounds, they are still important for children. Sims Bishop explains that children’s literature needs to represent both the majority and minorities. Children need to see themselves and learn about others in their book collections. As I stated earlier, diversity is variety (Merriam-Webster 2012). So these Caldecott winners do contribute to some diversity—but if children truly want to see themselves represented, they will need to look beyond Caldecotts.

Book covers are also essential to representation in children’s literature. They often entice or discourage children from reading their books. If the book covers represent the main characters, children will more likely form accurate literary expectations. As cliché as this may sound, diverse representation needs to start on the cover. Using the results from this study and concluding questions, researchers can break new ground in children’s literature by studying representation, book covers, and main characters.

Works Cited

Cordell, Matthew. Wolf in the Snow. Feiwel and Friends, 2017.

Floca, Brian. Locomotive. Atheneum Books for Young Readers, 2013.

“Diversity.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-

webster.com/dictionary/diversity. Accessed 2 Nov. 2022.Klassen, Jon. This is Not My Hat.

Candlewick Press, 2012.

Koss, Melanie D., et al. “Mapping the Diversity in Caldecott Books From 1938 to 2017: The

Changing Topography” Journal of Children’s Literature, vol. 44, no. 1, Children’s Literature

Assembly, 2018, pp. 4-20. EBSCOhost, eds.b.ebscohost.com/eds/pdfviewer/ pdfviewer?

vid=1&sid=1c20bf12-0a2a-4b24-9c27-2871b2e52809%40sessionmgr101.

Martinez, Miriam, et al. “Meeting Characters in Caldecotts: What Does This Mean for Today’s

Readers?” The Reading Teacher, vol. 70, no. 1, Wiley-Blackwell, July/August 2016, pp. 19-

28. EBSCOhost, eds.b.ebscohost.com/eds/pdfviewer/ pdfviewer?vid=1&sid=7ddf930b-d4d9-

480f-87c5-db99448ef8d9%40pdc-v-sessmgr01.

Nofziger, Lenae. “Making a Picture Book.” Children’s and Adolescent’s Literature ENGL 3143. 5

Sep. 2020, Northwest University, Kirkland, WA. Class lecture.

Pinkney, Jerry, illustrator. The Lion & the Mouse. By Aesop, Little, Brown and Company, 2009.

Raschka, Chris, illustrator. A Ball for Daisy. Schwartz & Wade Books. 2011.

Santat, Dan. The Adventures of Beekle the Unimaginary Friend. Little, Brown and Company, 2014.

Sims Bishop, Rudine. “Mirrors, Windows, and Sliding Glass Doors.” YouTube, uploaded by Reading

Rockets, 30 Jan. 2015, www.youtube.com/watch?v=_AAu58SNSyc.

Steptoe, Javaka. Radiant Child the Story of Young Artist Jean-Michel Basquiat. Little, Brown and

Company, 2016.

Tyner, Madeline. “The Numbers Are In: 2019 CCBC Diversity Statistics.” CCBlogC, 16 June 2020,

ccblogc.blogspot.com/2020/06/the-numbers-are-in-2019-ccbc-

diversity.html#:~:text=Each%20spring%2C%20the%20CCBC%20releases,

of%20the%20COVID%2D19%20pandemic.

“We Need Diverse Books Campaign Video.” YouTube, uploaded by We Need Diverse Books, 27

October 2014, youtube/mrrh0G-OkBw

Should Companies Use Social Media for Hiring Decisions?

By Katana Liebelt

It is a truth nationally acknowledged that employers will use social media to determine whether to hire job applicants. According to a 2020 Harris Poll study for Express Employment, 71% of U.S. hiring decision makers agree that it is effective to screen potential employees’ social media accounts (Stoller). Nearly 67% of these decision makers use social media to research their employees; out of this group, 55% of them discover posts that stop them from hiring applicants (Stoller, 2020). Furthermore, even when applicants get jobs, they can easily lose them because of a post. Using social media for hiring decisions was more controversial 10 years ago than today (Boling, Mass Communication class, 2022); however, the issue is still relevant. In 2020, Claira Janover posted a TikTok video, saying, “The next person who has the sheer nerve to say ‘all lives matter’, Imma stab you. Imma show you my paper cut and say, ‘my cut matters too’” (New York Post, 2020). Janover then lost her two-week internship at Deloitte, a financial services firm (Brown & Feis, 2020; Deloitte, n.d.). Although this was an extreme example, it demonstrates how employees can lose their jobs due to what they post on social media.

To understand this controversy better, one must consider the history of social media and the internet. Throughout the 1990s and 2000s, communication was either one-to-one or one-to-many. However, in the early 2000s, social media dramatically affected communication (Campbell et. al, 2020, p. 259). Social media sites made the norm of internet communication many-to-many. Starting with MySpace, (Myers & Hamilton, 2015), social media allowed people to “follow” and communicate with each other. They could have real-time conversations, write or read comments, share photos and videos, and interact virtually (Campbell et. al, 2020, p. 259) Then, in 2004, Mark Zuckerberg invented Facebook, which eventually displaced MySpace because it was more “controlled, structured, and user-friendly” (Myers & Hamilton, 2015, p. 229; Brown & Vaughn, 2011, p. 220).  By 2008, Facebook became the largest social media platform, blurring the boundary between private and public (Brown & Vaughn, 2011, p. 220). Over the past few decades, many media have converged their functions in one place: social media­ (Campbell et. al, 2020, p. 262). This phenomenon has changed all contexts of communication, including employer-employee and job seeker-hiring manager relationships.             

Society today must learn to distinguish between private versus public communication, and personal versus professional content. Because of social media, these controversies are interchangeable. They create confusion and can lead to major consequences like losing a job. For instance, in 2013, Jessica Bibbs posted on Facebook that her job was “a joke” (qtd. in Valinsky, 2013). Bibbs regretted posting it, yet simultaneously did not “because [she felt] like those were [her] feelings” (qtd. in Valinsky, 2013). Unfortunately for her, Bibbs underestimated the extent to which messages could spread (Mills, 2017, p. 48). According to Mills (2017), sharing on social media undermines people’s behavioral standards with acquaintances and strangers (p. 48). He also argues that people tend to share more information if they know—in Bibbs’s case, think, —the information will remain secure (2011, p. 50).  Moreover social media is still fairly new, so its use strains the already complicated relationship between hiring managers and job seekers.

Meanwhile, in Europe, social media users view privacy based on the type of information and who has access to it (Sarikakis & Winter, 2017, p. 6). This perspective comes from the idea that people have “ownership” over personal data. Thus, Europeans interpret the right to privacy as protection over information that is considered private (2017, p. 6). Sarikakis and Winter also explain that people’s ability to use technology is a major factor for maintaining privacy and control. Citing Brandimarte, Acquisiti, and Loewenstein, Sarikakis and Winter claim that the more control people have over information, the less concern they have about privacy. Consequently, people increasingly post sensitive information (2017, p. 4). However, people must share their information responsibly. Just because they can control their privacy does not mean they should post sensitive information.  Based on these scholars’ views of privacy, social media posts are not private. As demonstrated by the cases of Janover and Bibbs, posts can become widely public. When people post on social media, they risk having their boss or co-workers find it, regardless of their privacy settings. Therefore, companies can use social media to make hiring decisions.                     

Literature Review

Determining what is private versus public content is complicated. Between 2004 to 2014, England treated invasions of privacy as breaches of confidence (Mills, 2017, p. 51). According to Mills (2017), if information was disclosed in certain relationships (e.g., doctor-patient), it was considered “confidential”(p. 51). However, “confidential” changed to include information that was intrinsically secret or private (e.g., a medical issue) (Mills, p. 51). Based on England’s attitude, privacy includes information that people want kept secret regardless of when or where it was shared.

Additionally, in 1988 during Stephens v Avery, Sir Nicholas Browne-Wilkinson ruled that information was not protected or confidential when many people know it (Mills, 2017, p. 51). Based on this definition, posts on social media are not considered private or confidential. However, England has provided different standards for what information is considered public domain (Mills, p. 53). Public domain depends upon whether the post has substantial followers, easy accessibility, and impact on further publication in mass media (Mills, pp. 53, 54, 59, 60). In England “substantial followers” varies from two-figure numbers to 56,000 followers (p. 54). Past cases in England deem information accessible when the general public can easily find it on the internet (pp. 59, 60). Regarding privacy, England also considers the effect of further publication on mass media other than the initial social media post (Mills, p. 56). As Lord Neuberger said, a story distributed through mass communication is more credible than a social media post (as cited in Mills, p. 56). England’s past decisions provide standards for privacy regarding social media. They offer a thorough foundation for determining privacy in hiring decisions in America.

Three communication theories apply to the social media and hiring decisions debate: identity management theory, self-monitoring theory, and the network theory of privacy. Identity management theory involves managing and maintaining face-identity among various cultures. Within this theory, face-work (changing face) is influenced by one’s cultural and relational identities (Communication Theory, n.d.). When interacting with other cultures, people must find similar points of interests or aspects and reshape how they present themselves based on their relationship with the person (relational identity) (Communication Theory, n.d.). According to William Cupach and Tadasu Imahori, successful communication requires someone to “negotiate the mutually acceptable identities in interactions” (as cited in Communication Theory, n.d.). Within social media, cultures include work and personal lives. As established earlier, people tend to share more information online because they underestimate how much it can spread (Mills, 2017, pp. 48, 50). Thus, their jobs suffer because they do not present identities acceptable for work. In essence, posting displays personal information and beliefs in a public setting. If people present what their employees also find acceptable, they could reduce the likelihood of getting looked over or fired. Nevertheless, people do manage their identity across cultures by using different accounts for different purposes: LinkedIn for professional cultures and Facebook or Instagram for personal yet public cultures (Robards & Graf, 2022, p. 2). Thus, identity management is something people should improve upon. Another theory related to identity management is the self-monitoring theory, where the individual monitors social situations and “alters [his or her behavior] to impress others” (Westfall, 2020). Based on how employers use social media, they seem to want their employees to self-monitor. It therefore benefits employees (applicants or current ones) to self-monitor within their work culture, including their social media. 

Discussion

Although companies should use social media to make hiring decisions, they must evaluate its risks and benefits, as revealed by Victoria R. Brown and E. Daly Vaughn (2011). Certain industries or sectors are more public, which cause them to hold their employees to higher accountability (Robards & Graf, 2022, p. 10). The industries with the highest number of firings include education, law enforcement, and health (p. 10). Media was the most common industry (p. 10). Robards and Graf studied and coded 312 news stories[MT1]  about people getting fired, acknowledging they used a small sample size (pp. 2, 11). Because these industries are accountable and public, their companies should use social media to fire their employees. 

Furthermore, according to Brown and Vaughn (2011), judgments based on social media information are usually accurate (p. 219). Brown and Vaughn assert that users are unable to tailor for a wide audience, meaning they compromise and present stable samples (p. 222). Thus, employers can trust social media to see their applicants’ or employees’ true nature. This means they can confirm whether an applicant’s resume was accurate, discover inaccuracies, and conduct research cheaply (Brown & Vaughn, 2011, p. 220). Using social media uncovers important, helpful information. According to a 2009 Career Building Survey, employers found provocative and inappropriate photos, poor communication skills, evidence of drugs and alcohol, and evidence of falsifying resumes (as cited in Brown & Vaughn, 2011, p. 220). These things are important for employers to know; they also are important things that people should avoid posting.

Using social media to make hiring decisions seems to cross privacy boundaries. However, most[MT2]  pictures on social media are public and accessible to anyone. If people display publicity-seeking behavior they should not expect privacy (Mills, 2017, pp. 51, 62). Publicity-seeking involves “acknowledging popularity as a goal[,]…constructing an image of self that can be easily consumed by other,…attract[ing] attention and interest, [trying] to increase one’s desirability and ultimately lull one’s viewers into a state of veneration” (Marwick & Boyd, qtd. in Mills, p. 62). Social media are public domains, although this categorization depends upon the number of followers one has (Mills, p. 53).  For instance, in McAlpine v Bercow, Bercow, the defendant, had 56,000 followers on Twitter, while The Independent (a British newspaper) had 57,930 followers (Mills, p. 54). This demonstrates that social media posts can spread beyond their intended audience (Mills, 2017, p. 48). When people use social media, their information becomes public. To compare, celebrities are exempt from privacy (Mills, p. 6). Since social media users—especially famous ones—tend to have publicity-seeking behavior, their situation is like that of celebrities’ (Mills, 2017, p. 62).  If people are trying to get famous, then they will limit their right to privacy (Mills, 2017, p. 62).  Hence, hiring managers can use social media without crossing boundaries.

However, as Brown and Vaughn (2011) acknowledge, there are risks involved in using social media to make hiring decisions. Therefore, one could argue that employers shouldn’t use social media. For instance, a GoAir pilot got fired for a tweet. However, this pilot claimed that the tweet belonged to a different person with the same name (Robards & Graf, 2022, p. 9). Although this pilot received death threats, he was fortunately rehired (2022, p. 9). The GoAir pilot’s situation was resolved; but it revealed how using social media to fire people enables the digital mob (Batza as qtd. in 2022, p. 9). Followers’ reactions can lead to people getting fired, (Robards & Graf, 2022, pp. 9–11), an invasive and sometimes violent process; on the other hand, social media pressure can sometimes lead to employee’s being rehired (p. 8), No matter what, firing “canceled” employees based on social media can be toxic (Robards & Graf, 2022, pp. 9–11).  By using social media, employers involve bystanders in matters between employers and employees. Whether the public’s involvement is good or bad, it adds another layer of communication between employers and staff not usually seen in the past. 

Another issue stems from the employers themselves rather than the public. Employers can discriminate against people based on race, gender, sex, and sexual orientation (Brown & Vaughn, 2011, pp. 219, 221, 223). This is because there is often a lack of clear connection between job requirements (constructs) and screening social media (Brown & Vaughn, 2011, p. 220). Furthermore, employers could commit “fundamental attribution error,” which means they think the social media post represents the person regardless of the post’s context (Brown & Vaughn, 2011, p. 221). Though people should be careful, employers may also reject a qualified candidate because they only saw “that one post”. The reverse is also true. To appear more desirable, candidates may also distort their social media posts by using self-monitoring to appear more desirable than is true (Brown & Vaughn, 2011, p. 220). This is bad because the employer could hire someone based on inaccurate information. For example, the candidate could portray herself as wise, patient, and hardworking on her Instagram posts. But once she gets hired, she starts complaining and lashing out at co-workers. Overall, social media does not show everything about a person; hence, it may lead employers to make faulty hiring decisions.

All these risks make great arguments against using social media for hiring decisions. However, employers can reduce these risks. Both Robards & Graf (2022) and Brown & Vaughn (2011) propose excellent solutions. Brown and Vaughn propose that Human Resources managers should explain how looking through social media helps their personnel find relatable job skills (p. 221). Companies should decide what job skills or requirements they could look for when they screen social media (2011, p. 222). If Human Resources staff members find information not directly relevant to the job, they should consider looking for higher-order constructs such as “cognitive ability, professionalism, personality” (p. 222). To ensure this process is fair and uniform, Human Resources departments should create a rubric for systematic screening. Since applicants allow different levels of access to their social media profiles, the rubrics should provide examples of positive or negative signs in a profile (2011, p. 222). By establishing standards, companies ensure that their hiring processes are fair and informed. Hence, if people don’t follow the standards, then the company can more concretely deal with the issues.   

Readers should note that Robards and Graf (2022) lay most of the blame critic for social-media-related firings upon the employers, recruiters, and Human Resources managers. They believe that firing based on social media creates “a hidden curriculum of surveillance” (2022, p. 11). However, applicants still play a part in getting fired. To reiterate, self-monitoring involves choosing how to present oneself in social situations: social media intertwines many situations into one (Campbell et. al, 2020, p. 262; Brown & Vaughn,  p. 221). Both applicants and employees can choose what they post.

Nevertheless, Robards and Graf (2022) provide solutions involving personal responsibility. They suggest balancing different audiences by separating work from other parts of life (Robards & Graf, 2022, p. 2). They also suggest making privacy settings within one’s profile to restrict who can see which posts (2022, pp. 2, 3). These tips align with identity management, which says that communication is successful when one monitors what is mutually acceptable in a relational context (Communication Theory, n.d.). Within the social media-hiring decision situation, the relational context is work.

Conclusion

Social media is a widespread tool on the Internet that allows for various types of communication. Employers have used it to decide whether to hire candidates. They have also used it to fire employees for unprofessional posts. This action is not considered a breach of privacy since most people post publicly. Despite privacy settings or estimation of privacy, social media posts can easily reach beyond their intended audience (Mills, 2017, p. 62). These posts often provide accurate insights into applicants and employees (Brown & Vaughn, 2011). However, using social media can also lead to discrimination or misjudgment (Brown & Vaughn; Robards & Graf, 2022). Nevertheless, if employers clearly connect their social media search with the job requirements, then they can solve some problems using social media. Therefore, because social media is public, employers should use it to determine whether to hire or fire applicants and employees.

Although using social media is accepted among most people, it still may be controversial to others, especially when posts are inflammatory or political in nature. But if the search is done properly, then using social media can help employers make informed decisions. If people feel upset, then they should use privacy settings, separate their different life aspects (professional vs. personal), and consider what they post.

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Disruptive Ambiguity in Gerard Manley Hopkins’s “Heaven-Haven”

By Stephen Waggoner

In Gerard Manley Hopkins’s early poem, “Heaven-Haven,” a speaker longs for a place of calm and respite amid a stormy landscape. The poem, which consists of two stanzas of contrasting depictions of serene and tumultuous weather, is contextualized by the inscription “A nun takes the veil.” The words presumably come from a woman who has taken up religious orders; they reflect her decision to dwell in the comfort of the church. She begins by saying, “I have desired to go / Where springs not fail,” and continues later in the poem specifying, “Where no storms come” (Hopkins, lines 1–2, 6). However, if the woman has physically arrived at her destination, the church, why does she seem caught in the desires of the past as if she has not arrived? Throughout the poem, readers are confronted with several other nuances that complicate Hopkins’s deceptively simple images. Rather than giving his listeners a sentimental reflection on the sanctuary that church and religion provide, Hopkins means to unsettle his readers’ assumptions that a life of holiness is one marked by stagnant calm.

Readers are immediately struck by the ambiguity of the first line’s verb tense. Hopkins writes it in the present perfect (“have desired”), which does not tell us whether the speaker believes that she has arrived at her haven. Should not Hopkins write that she “had desired to go” to the fields, since her journey into sanctuary, a community that provides her food, shelter, and calm, is complete? Hopkins, through this vague language, provokes readers to wonder more deeply about what the nun is looking for and why she is searching for it in the church. Hopkins also uses homonyms, which forces his audience into recursive readings of the text. When the speaker mentions “[fields] where springs not fail” (Hopkins, line 2), the noun “springs” may be interpreted as referring either to unfailing, natural founts of freshwater (conducive to the idea of calm) or to the season, which is evoked in the next two lines of the poem by mention of lilies. The readers are forced to rethink their first assumption, causing a disruptive, bouncing motion in their minds. Since the inclusion of “springs” makes the text unexpectedly dynamic, readers second-guess their ability to reliably interpret the nun’s desired destination.

The poem’s third line creates the sharpest disruption of the poem’s imagery. At first, the line “fields where flies no sharp and sided hail” (Hopkins, line 3) might inadvertently conjure the image of insects. However, readers then understand that Hopkins means to evoke a field where hailstones are not blown sideways by powerful winds. This scene pulses with action that the nun would like to avoid. However, by including such jarring syntax, the image causes readers to feel the storm themselves. Hopkins does not want his readers to accept unquestioningly his speaker’s desires; he wants the readers to feel the tumult that the woman in the story so fears.

Just as Hopkins’s syntax disrupts readers’ presumptions about the destination that is described in “Heaven-Haven,” the poem’s form challenges readers’ predictions. Hopkins, who wrote this poem early in his poetic career, composed it in an unestablished form. The first and last lines of the poem’s two stanzas share end rhyme and sandwich a middle couplet, which physically breaks from the rest of the verse. The wild imbalance between the top and bottom lines of the couplets is reflected in the indentation; the stanzas’ short second lines float to the right side of the verse, while the long third lines burst out far into the page. As readers trace the unfamiliar form of the first stanza and then find it appearing again in the second, their attention is vaulted back to the beginning. This dynamic wholeness of the poem starts to present itself as an analogue of the unspecified country that the nun desires.

  If the poem were merely about a harbor in a storm, the reader might see this image akin to nature’s disrupting calmness. However, upon considering the religious subtitle, these bursting and breaking lines suddenly appear as liturgy. Even though the middle two lines break from the form, they are still contained by each stanza’s first and last lines—putting order alongside flux. Further, since readers find this form in both stanzas, it performs like a liturgy, which relies on the repetition of form. Hopkins uses this technique to suggest that dynamism not only can exist in religious life, but it is required, just as the poem requires tension between flux and calm to come alive.

In the end, Hopkins refuses his listeners a sentimental celebration of the sanctuary that a life in the church provides. Hopkins adds too much uncertainty and hesitance to “Heaven-Haven” for readers to accept the speaker’s suggestions that holiness leads to a life of stagnant calm. The poem begins with ambiguity of tense and persists throughout in complicating the expected symbols of rest. This uncertainty and motion soon find belonging in the invented symmetrical form of the poem itself. As readers wrestle with what exactly this “nun [who] takes the veil” could be desiring, the poem itself serves a taste of eternal beauty. Moreover, the same sanctuary that resides in the “springs” dwells in the loving dynamism of the Holy Trinity. Hopkins points to this vivid fact—this all-important, dynamic truth that can only be encapsulated by that deep, calm, wild, and loving mystery.

Work Cited

Hopkins, Gerard Manley. “Heaven-Haven.” Hopkins: Poems and Prose. London: Alfred A.

Knopf, 1995, p. 43.

Breaking Binaries in Sula by Toni Morrison

By Grace Colby

Can a person be as deadly as nightshade or as harmless as blackberry? Toni Morrison’s Sula explores this question, as an image of blackberries and nightshade opens the novel. While the plants may look similar, one nourishes while the other poisons. In the novel, Morrison links the two protagonists, Nel and Sula, to characteristics of these fruits. Sula appears to be the toxic nightshade while Nel is the sweet blackberry; however, Morrison then sets out to dismantle this binary. Although on the surface it seems that Sula is fundamentally evil while Nel is fundamentally good, a close reading of Sula reveals that their characters are far too complex to conform to a simple good-and-evil dichotomy.

The pairing of blackberries and nightshade is established in the initial sentence in Sula, by beginning with this description of a “place, where they tore the nightshade and blackberry patches from their roots to make room for the Medallion City Golf Course, [where] there was once a neighborhood” (Sula 4). In “Unspeakable Things Unspoken,” Morrison describes the symbolism of nightshade and blackberries: “[b]oth plants have darkness in them: ‘black’ and ‘night.’ One is unusual (nightshade) and has two darkness words: ‘night’ and ‘shade.’ The other (blackberry) is common. A familiar plant and an exotic one. A harmless one and a dangerous one. One produces a nourishing berry; one delivers toxic ones” (153). While blackberries nourish, nightshade kills. The mirroring of blackberries and nightshade symbolizes not only good and evil, but more specifically the characters of Nel and Sula. On the surface, Nel appears to be good: the refreshing blackberry. Sula, on the other hand, appears to be evil: the deadly nightshade.

At first glance, Sula embodies the unconventional and evil, which is represented by noxious nightshade. Monika Hoffarth-Zelloe furthers this argument by noting that “[n]ightshade is an unusual, exotic, and dangerous plant, delivering a toxic poison; It foreshadows the wild and dangerously free Sula with her paradoxical character—the berries taste bitter at first and then sweet” (115). Sula is described as a woman who is not concerned with conforming to societal standards, as she “...lived out her days exploring her own thoughts and emotions, giving them full reign, feeling no obligation to please anybody unless their pleasure pleased her. As willing to feel pain as to give pain, to feel pleasure as to give pleasure, hers was an experimental life” (Sula 118).  Due to Sula’s tendency to disregard social conventions, her actions oftentimes harm others, just as nightshade poisons those who eat it. She is described as “dangerous” and a “pariah” (Sula 121, 122). Her wickedness is exemplified when she witnesses her mother burning alive and “wanted her to keep jerking like that, to keep on dancing” (Sula 147). Sula’s most wicked act, however, may be the betrayal of her best friend Nel. After ten years, Sula comes back home to Medallion, Ohio, where Nel still resides. Sula sleeps with Nel’s husband, which destroys Nel’s relationship with both her husband and Sula. In all of these villainous actions, Sula appears to be the epitome of evil, the true nightshade.

However, Sula’s character is far too complex to be confined to the simplistic label of evil. Sula proves herself to be a woman capable of deeper affection and attachment through her relationship with Ajax. While she has no prior attachment to any man she slept with, as she saw sex as “wicked,” Ajax teaches her “what possession [is]” (Sula 123, 131). She finds comfort and contentment with one man, which is what her best friend Nel has always searched for. Ajax begins to consume all of her time and thoughts. When he notices that she has fallen in love with him and has begun to make him a priority, he leaves in fear of that emotional attachment. He has changed her into a woman who is capable of love, and her world shifts when he leaves. Sula is left with “[a]n absence so decorative, so ornate, it was difficult for her to understand how she had ever endured, without falling dead or being consumed, his magnificent presence” (Sula 134). For the first time, she allows herself to be truly vulnerable with Ajax, which has led to heartbreak. Sula is capable of genuine love, deepfelt heartbreak, and emotional vulnerability, which points to the goodness in her. Instead of conforming to the binary of wholly wicked or entirely pure, Sula becomes a three-dimensional human character with the capability of both.

While Sula is perceived as nightshade, Nel is seen as a blackberry. Unlike Sula, Nel conforms to societal standards. She does not have Sula’s fire or individuality, rather the words “‘blackberry patch’ seemed...appropriate for Nel: nourishing, never needing to be tended or cultivated, once rooted and bearing” (“Unspeakable Things Unspoken” 153). Nel is seen as the righteous and refreshing character; therefore, she embodies the blackberry patch. The book describes Nell as having “...no aggression, her parents had succeeded in rubbing down to a dull glow any sparkle or sputter she ever had” (Sula 83). She settles down into a life of marriage and motherhood, casting “...her visions in traditional romantic fantasies and sacrifices her independence to conventionality...” (Stein 52). While Sula lives by her own emotions and desires, Nel stifles her emotions to live a quiet, conventional life. On the surface, Nel is the sweet, nourishing blackberry.

Blackberry patches, however, are rife with thorns. When one looks below the surface, they will find that Nel is not faultless. If the novel adhered strictly to juxtaposing Sula’s toxicity with Nel’s purity, Nel would be expected to embody goodness. A clear example of Nel’s wickedness is her reaction to the death of Chicken Little. When Nel watches Sula accidentally swing Chicken Little into the water, which causes his death, Nel shows no emotion. She only shows fear of being caught; while Sula “...collapsed in tears” over the death of Chicken Little, Nel remains stoic and controlled, not shedding a single tear (Sula 62). At the end of the novel, it is revealed that Nel felt a sick, twisted pleasure in watching Chicken Little die, as it gave her a “good feeling” (Sula 170). Nel reveals that “[a]ll these years she had been secretly proud of her calm, controlled behavior when Sula was uncontrollable.... Now it seemed that what she had thought was maturity, serenity and compassion was only the tranquility that follows a joyful stimulation” (Sula 170). While one may read Nel’s stoicism in the wake of Chicken Little’s death as shock, it is actually a wicked combination of excitement and contentment, which exemplifies that the concepts of “good” and “evil” are more complex than a binary allows. One is not exclusively innocent or wicked, as every good person is capable of evil. Even the sweetest blackberries come with thorns.

Toni Morrison exposes the limitations of binaries and refuses to be held back by them. She does not put her characters into boxes marked “good” or “evil,” because they are far too complex for that. While Sula may appear to be the malignant nightshade and Nel the benign blackberry, both characters refuse to remain within the confines of those roles. When Sula betrays Nel, it is tempting to mark Sula as corrupt and Nel as morally upright; however, “...Morrison clearly wants us to recognize that although Nel and Sula appear to be quite different—one the epitome of goodness and one the embodiment of evil—they are also quite similar” (Bergenholtz 92). It is not only Sula who finds pleasure or excitement in the death of another person. If watching her mother die “because she was interested” makes Sula evil, “then Nel is also evil for experiencing a sense of pleasure and tranquility when Chicken Little disappears beneath the water” (Sula 78; Bergenholtz 92). All people have both good and evil in them, and Nel and Sula are no exception.  Because they are complex characters with the capability to both nourish and poison, Nel and Sula dismantle the good and evil binary, showing readers what it means to be real, authentic human beings.

While Sula appears only to embody the fatal nightshade, she also contains a touch of the sweet blackberry. Nel may seem to be the nutritious fruit; however, she still retains some toxicity. In Toni Morrison’s Sula, these binaries are broken by making Sula and Nel complex characters who cannot be confined to categories such as virtuous or villainous. It is essential that we do not hold ourselves back by clinging to binaries such as the dichotomy of good and evil. Just as Morrison does with Sula and Nel, we must look past perceived surface-level innocence or wickedness to see other human beings in all their complexities. As she dismantles the binary of blackberries and nightshade, Morrison makes a poignant argument that it is harmful to confine women into boxes based on conventional standards of purity, marking them with harmful labels if they do not fit into society’s stereotype of a domestic, angelic woman.

Works Cited

Bergenholtz, Rita A. “Toni Morrison’s Sula: A Satire on Binary Thinking.” African American      

Review, vol. 30, no. 1, Apr. 1996, pp. 89–98. EBSCOhost, https://doi.org/10.2307/3042096

Hoffarth-Zelloe, Monika. “Resolving the Paradox?: An Interlinear Reading of Toni Morrison’s    

‘Sula.’” The Journal of Narrative Technique, vol. 22, no. 2, Apr. 1992, pp. 114–                      

27. EBSCOhost, https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?

direct=true&AuthType=shib,sso&db=edsjsr&AN=edsjsr.30225356&site=eds-

live&scope=site.

Morrison, Toni. Sula. Vintage Books, 2004.

Morrison, Toni. “Unspeakable Things Unspoken: The Afro-American Presence in American         

Literature.” Michigan Quarterly Review, vol. 28, no. 1, Jan. 1989, p. 1. EBSCOhost,           

https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?

direct=true&AuthType=shib,sso&db=edsgao&AN=edsgcl.8827026&site=eds-

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Stein, Karen F. “Toni Morrison’s Sula: A Black Woman’s Epic.” Understanding Toni Morrison’s

“Beloved” & “Sula”: Selected Essays & Criticisms, 2000, pp. 49–60. EBSCOhost,

https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspxdirect=true&AuthType=shib,sso&

db=edo&AN=43295206&site=eds-live&scope=site.

Bridging the Gap: The Benefits of Music Programs for Low-Income Youth in Developed Countries

By Hanna Stephens

The David Douglas school district in Portland, Oregon, boasts an award-winning music program that has brought the community together in immeasurable ways. However, what is most remarkable is that 73% of its students “qualify for free or reduced-price lunch, a federal measure of poverty” (Mongeau, 2019). Students from this district often work to help cover the costs of the music program, but the benefits for students who participate are extraordinary—from becoming straight-A students to finding a second family with their bandmates (Mongeau, 2019). However, statistics from the Oxford Handbook of Social Justice in Music Education and the Journal of Community Psychology indicate that students of low socioeconomic status are “significantly underrepresented” and “disproportionately not enrolled in music programs compared to their higher-income peers” (Abril & Kelly-McHale, 2018, p. 157; Whitson et al., 2020, p. 428). Only 90% of low-income districts offer music programs, compared to 96% of wealthier districts (Mongeau, 2019). Despite the trend in developed countries of decreased access to music programs for low-income students, these students are the ones who benefit most from them in terms of their academic, mental, and social development. Therefore, communities in developed nations should fight to sustain or enable engagement in music programs for youth of lower socioeconomic status.

The Academic Benefits of Music Programs

The academic benefits from music programs are astounding. Moreover, notable improvements are distinctly profound in students of lower socioeconomic status. According to the Journal of Community Psychology, studies have found a positive association between music participation and academic achievement (Whitson et al., 2020). Furthermore, the authors note that music programs play a “vital role in augmenting the academic achievement for youth residing in low-income communities” (p. 427). One study conducted by the Music Haven afterschool program, which provided free music education and performance opportunities to disadvantaged youth in New Haven, Connecticut, found an increasing benefit over time in areas such as grades and likelihood to earn a college degree, which was noted as the “dosage effect” (Whitson et al., 2020, p. 434). The longer that students of lower income backgrounds were involved in the music program, the higher their likelihood of attending and graduating college, and the better their grades were. This does not merely indicate a correlation between students who play instruments and get good grades, but a causal relationship between the two. Throughout the study, it was noted that community support was integral in sustaining the youths’ academic and musical success.

Additionally, longitudinal studies have also shown that music engagement predicts overall academic achievement. One research report published by the National Endowment for the Arts completed a meta-analysis of four longitudinal studies on the impact of such programs on at-risk youth, three of which were sponsored by the U.S. Department of Education (Catterall et al., 2012, p. 8). The data ranged from 1988 to 2008 and found that involvement in music and arts programs correlated with higher test scores, GPAs, graduation rates, and college enrollment. These correlations were strongest with students of low-income backgrounds. Ultimately, the authors concluded that students involved in arts programs experienced more benefits than those without arts experiences, and low socioeconomic-status students benefited more than higher socioeconomic-status students (p. 24).

The Mental Benefits of Music Programs

Music programs not only enhance academic performance, but they also improve the mind itself. The mental benefits of engagement in music programs range from cognition and neural development to mental wellness. For instance, a study in the Journal of Neuroscience examined the impact of free community music programs for 44 disadvantaged children. Researchers found that two years of music training resulted in “a stronger neurophysiological distinction of stop consonants, a neural mechanism linked to reading and language skills,” whereas the control group “[did] not show any year-to-year changes” (Kraus et al., 2014). It was also noted that such training “can effect structural and functional neural changes” through engaging the networks in the brain “whose integration drives neuroplasticity” (Kraus et al., 2014). Hence, community music programs have indisputable neurophysiological benefits specifically for at-risk children through cognitive development.

In addition to neurological development, music programs also increase the mental health and well-being of students. The previously mentioned study of the Music Haven community program interviewed parents before, during, and after their child’s involvement in the program. The parents overwhelmingly reported “an increase in the youth’s confidence and self-esteem. . . with [those] who had lower family incomes reporting greater empowerment for their children than those with higher family incomes” (Whitson et al., 2020, pp. 427–8, 432). Self-concept is a vital element of mental wellness, which can often be strained in at-risk environments. Furthermore, Abril and Kelly-McHale explored how culturally aware teachers improve the health and emotional well-being of low-income students by simply caring for them. Caring teachers, such as one unnamed Texas band director who made taquitos for his low-income students who often went without meals, help foster positivity, growth, and success (Abril & Kelly-McHale, 2018, pp. 166–7). Therefore, music programs facilitate healthy cognitive and mental development for disadvantaged youth.

The Social Benefits of Music Programs

Interlinked with mental wellness is the sense of belonging which comes from a social support network. There are a wide range of social benefits for developing youth who engage in music programs. In addition to culturally inclusive programs and caring teachers creating “more positive attitude[s] toward band and school,” band programs have been described by students as facilitating bonding to the point of creating a second “family” (Abril & Kelly-McHale, 2018, p. 166-7; Mongeau, 2019). These social benefits have particular potential for low socioeconomic status students who often come from marginalized populations. Refugees and immigrants under age 18 constitute the Sierra Leone youth group in Australia (Oxford Handbook); they formed to learn English and express themselves through music. The group performed traditional Sierra Leonian drumming and dancing for the community, as well as choral renditions in collaboration with the Sydney-Conservatorium of Music. In surveying the youth after the performance, the researchers found increased senses of “social inclusion, self-esteem, confidence and social acceptance” (Marsh, 2018, p. 173-186). Not only can music performance groups promote a sense of belonging for marginalized populations—the same longitudinal studies also noted particularly significant increases in involvement with student government and service clubs in low-income music students compared to higher income counterparts (Catterall et al., 2012). Furthermore, the Music Haven study found that free community music programs increased social competence for the youth involved (Whitson et al., 2020). The social advantages of music programs are clear, especially in disadvantaged communities, but these cases all had the same factor contributing to their success: a supportive community willing to bear the costs.

Balancing Costs and Benefits

  Consequently, considering both the invaluable benefits of such programs and the costs they incur, are these programs worth creating or sustaining? Some may note that low SES students in higher SES communities comprise cultural minorities; thus, music programs based on the majority culture may be irrelevant and unhelpful (Abril & Kelly-McHale, 2018). Additionally, the financial costs of hiring music educators, obtaining instruments, procuring private lesson teachers for each instrument, providing uniforms, and conducting instrument maintenance can quickly add up. In other words, as one flute player from the David Douglas high school band said, “music is not cheap” (Mongeau, 2019).

The costs may seem overwhelming when considering that something as simple as playing in Westernized programs with European repertoire, rather than culturally representative music, may result in the program being “unhelpful.” However, in each of the previously cited studies, the benefits were found regardless of the type of music played or pedagogical practices of the teachers. Although outcome quality varies, social inclusion through group activity, academic benefits through time management skills, and cognitive development through neuroplasticity occur in music programs regardless of the type of music or program—whether a community program such as Music Haven, a project such as the Sierra Leone Youth Group, or a high school marching band such as David Douglas’s. A debate continues as to which programs are most effective, but the consensus is that having some program is better than not having a program at all. Benefits are simply maximized by higher quality programs which have culturally aware/inclusive repertoire and teachers. Hypothetically, they would not be completely eliminated due to a director having their marching band play an American pop-culture song at a football game rather than a Chinese folk song—albeit the latter would represent a healthy immersive experience for the Chinese-American band members.

Once communities understand the universal benefits of music programs for students with low income, they brainstorm various innovative methods to help cover the financial costs. For instance, the David Douglas School District recognized the importance of early incorporation of music in education and was able to hire full-time music teachers for all their elementary schools by instituting a “local arts tax—$35 from every adult in Portland city limits living above the poverty line” (Mongeau, 2019). Federal and state grants, non-profit work, and caring community members all pave the way to make life better for disadvantaged youth through music.  Therefore, creating a brighter future for low-income students is actually much less costly than many people assume—which makes it all the more worth pursuing.

Logically and ethically, if the academic, mental, and social benefits are most pronounced in low SES youth, and those are the individuals who would also need said benefits the most, we should fight to give every disadvantaged youth—whether in a rich or poor community—the opportunity to take advantage of music programs through community support and initiatives. Otherwise, we do an injustice to society and to the principle of music itself. Music is a universal language able to convey emotions and tell stories across languages and cultures. It unifies us and is therefore the ideal tool to heal and bridge the gap between the privileged and disadvantaged. From a global perspective, music programs have even more potential for less developed countries. Celine Ferland is currently a band director and flute instructor in Washington state; she lived in Ethiopia for seven years, during which time she started a flute school to release girls from poverty-induced prostitution. By learning the art of flute playing and then becoming teachers at the school, the girls not only find a safe, productive hobby to earn money for in performance, but some also receive paid positions as teachers which become their source of livelihood. The girls also develop friendships with the other teachers and students, creating a deeper sense of community and experiencing all the social benefits of a music program (C. Ferland, personal communication, April 15, 2021). The world of music surpasses all boundaries of culture, language, income-level, race, and ethnicity. Thus, it is our responsibility as ethical members of society to provide access to this world to youth who have never known it. In doing so, we ensure them a brighter future, eventually changing the world—but we must start with our own neighborhoods.

References

Abril, C. R., & Kelly-McHale, J. (2018). The space between worlds: Music education and Latino

children. In C. Benedict, P. K. Schmidt, G. Spruce, & P. Woodford (Eds.), The Oxford

handbook of social justice in music education. Oxford University Press. 

Catterall, J. S., Dumais, S. A., & Hampden‐Thompson, G. (2012). The arts and achievement in at‐

risk youth: Findings from four longitudinal studies. National Endowment for the Arts.

Kraus, N., Slater, J., Thompson, E. C., Hornickel, J., Strait, D. L., Nicol, T., & White-Schwoch, T.

(2014). Music enrichment programs improve the neural encoding of speech in at-risk

children. Journal of Neuroscience, 34, 11913–11918.

https://www.jneurosci.org/content/34/36/11913

Marsh, K. (2018). Music, social justice, and social inclusion: The role of collaborative music

activities in supporting young refugees and newly arrived immigrants in Australia. In C.

Benedict, P. K. Schmidt, G. Spruce, & P. Woodford (Eds.), The Oxford handbook of social

justice in music education. Oxford University Press.

Mongeau, L. (2019). Low-income districts find ways to help students make music. The Hechinger

Report. https://hechingerreport.org/low-income-districts-find-ways-to-help-students-make-

music/ 

Whitson, M. L., Robinson, S., Valkenburg, K. V., & Jackson, M. (2020). The benefits of an

afterschool music program for low-income, urban youth: The Music Haven evaluation

project. Journal of Community Psychology, 48(2), 426–436.

Cut Through the Muddle

By Joseph Ziesing

The breadth of social and political discourse resulting from Charles Dickens’s novels often reaches beyond the Victorian era and anticipates questions raised by contemporary theorists. Likewise, Dickens’s Hard Times seemingly anticipates psychoanalytic, feminist theory by producing the characteristics of the “male gaze” through the eyes of Stephen Blackpool. Laura Mulvey first postulated the idea of the male gaze in her essay “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” exposing classical Hollywood’s tendency to reduce women to visually pleasing objects—victims of scopophilia. Dickens anticipates the male gaze’s fetishistic and voyeuristic impulses; and, subsequently, uses Stephen’s gaze to demonstrate the relationship between desire and the male gaze, so that the novel’s later elimination of this gaze reveals the Lacanian “asymptotic distance” between the individual and desire.

            Critics tend to analyze Dickens’s Hard Times with capitalist and Marxist lenses in mind, but Stephen Blackpool’s gaze moves past this framework and examines the desires that these systems create and the ultimate fallibility of these desires. Two primary perspectives surround Stephen. The first places Stephen between the opposing philosophies of Slackbridge’s workers union and Mr. Bounderby’s industry. He acts as a passive participant—a bystander—demonstrating incapability and lack of virtue or “over-idealized” virtue (Dereli 102). The second view emphasizes Stephen’s importance to the novel’s idea of “fancy” or imagination—viewing Stephen as a sort of saint or martyr who imbues the story with a romantic vision of the world (Smith 169). In either case, these views attribute Stephen’s peculiarities to Dickens’s attempt to caricature the alienation of the worker within capitalism.

However, the explanations for these characteristics have varied wildly over time. The theorists of fancy disagree on Dickens’s use of imagination. Some believe it restores the meaning “once offered in religious faith” (Higbie 91), while others believe that imagination ultimately fails to offer hope to a working-class world (Barnes 252). The economists instead note Dickens’s use of power structures—“the named” and “the namers” or the employed and the employers—as a means of identifying the unescapable weakness that Stephen inhabits (Rounds 39-40). However, a more nuanced understanding of the relationship between imagination and reality in Hard Times comes from critic David Wilkes: “Dickens gives his readers both a working-class hero and a societal monster, a martyr and an idle man” (156). Wilkes dissects Hard Times and finds complexity embedded into the desires of the working class—a desire epitomized by Stephen’s gaze. Ultimately, these theories situate the text within a conversation of imagination and reality, framing the novel around the search for fulfillment through desire and its attainability.

To best understand the influence of desire in Hard Times, the narrative between Stephen, Rachael, and Mrs. Blackpool must be unraveled. Thus, the male gaze becomes crucial to defining the interplay between Stephen’s desires and his projected gaze on these women. Mulvey explains two primary manifestations of scopophilia (the pleasure in looking). There is voyeuristic scopophilia: “[the] pleasure in looking at another person as object [unbeknownst to them]” (Mulvey 1174), and narcissistic scopophilia—wherein the viewer “[identifies] with the image seen” within a story (Mulvey 1175). For Mulvey, both are crucial to the male gaze, as oftentimes women are subjected to voyeuristic scopophilia as “image” while men become “bearer of the look” by lending their gaze to the viewer. In either case, Mulvey argues that the gaze causes the audience to oscillate between two modes of spectating: voyeuristic sadism and fetishistic scopophilia. Through the lens of Stephen’s gaze that demonstrates the eternal denial of desire, Dickens seemingly anticipates Mulvey’s theory—namely that such a prolonged gaze produces extreme responses to scopophilia.

In his debut chapter, entitled “Stephen Blackpool,” Stephen is not introduced until the end of the second paragraph: both paragraphs are more concerned with describing Coketown and its inhabitants than Stephen. Consequently, the novel characterizes him as an onlooker. Smith similarly recognizes that Stephen’s sense of identity is folded into his own view of the world. “[T]he reader is to see Stephen in terms of his environment” (162). Rather than developing Stephen with an identity—a fulfilled individual—he is epitomized by his perception. It is not accidental that Stephen’s first words in the novel are “[y]et, I don’t see Rachael still” (67). Not only does this statement develop Stephen’s gaze as an onlooker, but also Rachael’s priority within it and his deferred sense of desire. He is unable to inhabit reality without becoming a gazer. However, rather than improving Stephen, this gaze hollows him out. He is left empty and indecisive. He defers his confusion to “a muddle” (Dickens 68). Accordingly, the audience inhabits this sense of narcissistic scopophilia through Stephen’s gaze—further inducing a sense of voyeuristic pleasure for the viewer while separating Stephen from a real sense of fulfilled existence.

Another crucial paradigm for Stephen’s sense of fulfillment is his repeated glorifying of Rachael’s appearance. The audience gazes upon Rachael with a fetishistic scopophilia—even when pursuing Stephen, a married man—thus she remains blameless. Stephen beholds her. While Rachael becomes the bearer of the look, she is known foremost by her appearance: “She went, with her neat figure and her sober womanly step, down the dark street, and he stood looking [… T]here was not a flutter of her coarse shawl, perhaps, but had its interest in this man’s eyes” (Dickens 69). This is a common occurrence, with all but one of their interactions marked by his captive eye. As each appraisal of Rachael builds off the last, she becomes a fetishized object. There is no avenue for Stephen to enact his desire without discoloring the saintliness of the image he has constructed: “fetishistic scopophilia, builds up the physical beauty of the object, transforming it into something satisfying in itself” (Mulvey 1177). Rachael inhabits the fetishized object, reflecting a beautified icon that can distract Stephen’s unsatisfied desires while never moving closer to fulfilling them.

Furthermore, Stephen imposes the male gaze on his wife as a means of justifying his gaze upon Rachael. Mrs. Blackpool is never given a moment to defend herself because at every avenue she is stained by Stephen’s perception of her: “A creature so fowl to look at, in her tatters, stains, and splashes, but so much fouler than that in her moral infamy, that it was a shameful thing even to see her” (Dickens 70). The gaze becomes sadistic as she is abhorred, yet the audience accepts it because of the sense of voyeuristic justice. Mrs. Blackpool is made into a repulsive hindrance to Stephen’s desire for Rachael. Even in his kindest moments towards his wife, Stephen clearly acts out of selfish interest rather than goodwill: “[He] moved but once all that night. It was to throw a covering over her; as if his hands were not enough to hide her, even in the darkness” (Dickens 70). She becomes a stain to his gaze, a reminder that he cannot have Rachael. No law exists to free him. Therefore, he covers her as an act of sadism. He casts guilt at her own inability to meet her needs and dissuades his own inability to fulfill his desires.

Subsequently, Stephen goes astray from his gaze in the Old Hell shaft, which isolates him from his desires and leaves him in inky darkness. The momentum of Stephen’s gaze is shattered as he comes to terms with a sightless reality—except a piercing light that cuts through his muddle and reveals his inability to meet his desires. It is when he is furthest from desire that he sees it was never attainable: “this form situates the agency of the ego […] which will always remain irreducible for the individual alone, or rather, which will only rejoin the coming-into-being of the subject asymptotically” (Lacan 1124). In this moment, his sense of desire is at its lowest. He is cut off from everything except the star, and he recognizes his own deep-seated imperfection. He cannot fulfill his desires, and he recognizes that living for his desires has left him hollowed out. It has not gotten him closer to meaning because his desires cannot give him meaning. They are eternally distant from him.

Thus, he lies in the shaft, contemplating the muddle of desire and pain he has lived through. He reaches a moment of transparency: “It ha’ shined upon me,’ he said reverently, ‘in my pain and trouble down below.  It ha’ shined into my mind.  I ha’ look’n at ’t and thowt o’ thee, Rachael, till the muddle in my mind have cleared awa, above a bit, I hope” (Dickens 264). Stephen gazes into the star, and the many nights in the shaft teach him the truth: Rachael is “fu’ of faults” (Dickens 89). She cannot live up to his gaze, and he cannot fetishize her anymore. He must give up on the gaze altogether. Finally, his imagination makes him a martyr as the laying aside of his desire leaves him to accept of his lack of fulfillment.

Consequently, Stephen grasps at the hope of a diminished depravity, but he again realizes he cannot improve the human condition: “I ha’ seen more clear, and ha’ made it my dyin prayer that aw th’ world may on’y coom toogether more, an’ get a better unnerstan’in o’ one another, than when I were in ’t my own weak seln” (Dickens 264). His eyes avoid Rachael—recognizing that she will never embody his conceived desire, and he fixes his gaze upon the star above him. But even this gaze is cut off, as Stephen chooses to completely “coover [his] face” (Dickens 265). Ultimately, this allows Stephen to reject his desire by eliminating his gaze. This covering severs the icon of his desire, cutting through the fetish, the sadist, and the muddle.

Works Cited

Barnes, Christopher. “‘Hard Times’: Fancy as Practice.” Dickens Studies Annual, vol. 34, 2004, pp.

233–58, http://www.jstor.org/stable/44372096.

Dereli, Cynthia. “Stephen Blackpool's ‘Muddle’ in Hard Times: Some Critical Issues Revisited.” The

Dickensian, vol. 100, no. 463, 2004, pp. 101-110,100. ProQuest,

https://www.proquest.com/scholarly-journals/stephen-blackpools-muddle-hard-times-

some/docview/993010959/se-2?accountid=28772.

Dickens, Charles. Hard Times, edited by Kate Flint, Penguin, 2003.

Higbie, Robert. “‘Hard Times’ and Dickens’ Concept of Imagination.” Dickens Studies Annual, vol.

17, 1988, pp. 91–110, http://www.jstor.org/stable/44371610.

Lacan, Jacques. “The Mirror Stage as Formative of the Function of the I as Revealed in

Psychoanalytic Experience.” The Critical Tradition. 3rd Ed., edited by David H. Richter,

Bedford /St. Martins, 2007, 1122-1128.

Mulvey, Laura. “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.” The Critical Tradition. 3rd Ed., edited by

David H. Richter, Bedford/St. Martins, 2007, 1172-1180.

Rounds, Stephen R. “Naming People: Dicken’s Technique in Hard Times.” Dickens Studies

Newsletter, vol. 8, no. 2, 1977, pp. 36–40, http://www.jstor.org/stable/45290544.

Smith, Anne. “The Martyrdom of Stephen in ‘Hard Times.’” The Journal of Narrative Technique, vol.

2, no. 3, 1972, pp. 159–70, http://www.jstor.org/stable/30225284.

Wilkes, David M. “‘This Most Protean Sitter’: The Factory Worker and Triangular Desire in ‘Hard

Times.’” Dickens Studies Annual, vol. 36, 2005, pp. 153–81,

http://www.jstor.org/stable/44372134.

A Rather Important Hypothetical (Asking for a Friend)

By Martina Preston

If, perhaps, a group of fellows

All woke up as stale marshmallows,

Do you think they’d try, like men,

To find the fellows they’d once been? 

Or would they grow accustomed to

This new and boring life of goo,

And in their minds resolve themselves

To long, bleak lives upon the shelves?

They might, in fear, submissive lie

Wondering who’s next to die?

Lack of limbs lends no solutions

But one: a mellow revolution.

The trouble is, our fellows see,

That only periodically—

On the coldest days or warmest nights—

Do they emerge from out of sight

To swim in chocolate swirls warm

Or roast and slowly lose their form.

Despite this fact, their spirit’s not lost,

And though the treat is cheap in cost,

In wit and words, they seem to be

Still as advanced as you and me.

Society can rise once more

In these poor fellows’ state; I’m sure.

For with their minds, they can bestow

A governmental type of show

On workings of a candy’s kind

To exercise their human minds. 

The weeks go by, and months, and years

And some marsh-fellows cry sweet tears

Remembering their human past,

But bravely, still, a few hold fast.

A culture is reborn through those

Who dares to speak out from the rows

Of fluffy ‘mallows. Once were men

(Their minds were as they’d always been).

So, soon, a city will be built

From crumbs and trash the humans spilled–

Jobs and trading regulated

Entertainment duly rated.

Government elections held,

And sugary pollution smelled.

And life goes on as once before,

As fellow-ship is here reborn.

Everything Too Much

By Martina Preston

I know well the wet

Of a Washington day.

The rain, its residual scent

It washes away, without hesitation

Discernment, or pause.

Both comings and goings,

Both virtues and flaws,

The trees are weighed down with

Too many nests, but not enough flight.

Sunsets at lunchtime,

Summer at night,

Tomorrow time caught up to me.

Yesterday it will have reversed—

Nothing is wet now that will not be dry

No one is happy who will never cry. 

The Family Reunion Special

By Bethany Batchelor

Editorial note: Ever wonder why English does not seem to conform to a multitude of rules the way Spanish or French does? One imaginative student enrolled in the 2021 course “History of the English Language” decided to poke fun at English’s varied background by relying on the tropes of 1990s sitcoms, rendering each language that influences our current linguistic mess as a separate character. Enjoy!

The screen is black. In an homage to Star Wars, text moves from the bottom of the screen to the top. The Narrator reads out loud.

NARRATOR

In a desperate attempt to spike the ratings of The English Language Show (trademarked, copyrighted, original characters do not steal), the Linguistic Progression Network (LPN) hosted a clip show spectacular/ potential finale. It contained the framework of a family reunion and segments from the most popular episodes. It also was rumored to include a never-before-seen segment of a possible revival of the franchise. The ratings have yet to come in, and the show’s future remains unsure…

Opening credits and theme song play.

Exterior (EXT.) In the Field Behind Proto-Indo-European Manor AKA Prondean Manor-Day

The camera pans around various family members partaking in both carnival-like games and conversations. RUSSIAN and GERMAN are arguing over pigs in blankets and pretzels respectively, while TUSCAN mediates (with little success). ITALIAN and GREEK JR. are playing ring toss. The camera lands on GERMANIC and her mother CELTIC, drinking tea in the adjoining garden. CELTIC has good posture. She maintains eye contact and stirs in a lump of sugar without looking at it. GERMANIC absentmindedly scarfs down three cucumber sandwiches while keeping an eye on her troublesome immediate family, seemingly half listening to her mother. The music fades, and we can slowly hear what they are saying.

CELTIC

Really, my dear, I don't know what you see in that Latin fellow.

GERMANIC

Mom, we've been over this.

CELTIC

Humor me. He's a bad influence on your daughter, and I want to make sure that vulgarity doesn't spread to anyone else.

GERMANIC

First off, you sound like a bad movie villain. I mean, who talks like that? Second, Latin is a good Catholic man with a stable hospital job.

CELTIC

 Rude… we all know that he's the receptionist, don't build that idiot conman up to be influential in the medical field when it's simply not true.

GERMANIC

For the sake of argument, let's say I care. WHY pray tell, do you think my beloved husband is quote-un-quote 'vulgar'?

CELTIC

Well…

Ripple dissolve leads to a flashback/clip from the season one Pilot.

Interior (INT.) Movie theater. Raining-Night.

LATIN bursts in from the rain and shakes himself off while looking around for someone. He holds a bouquet of narcissus flowers. GERMANIC mans the concession stand. No one else is there.

CELTIC (V.O.)

Do you remember when you first started dating?

YOUNG GERMANIC

Latin! What's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?

YOUNG LATIN

(Surprised. Almost drops flowers.)

Gerry…  I thought you worked at the theater at the other end of town.

YOUNG GERMANIC

Why would I do that, silly? This is the one with the frozen yogurt store next door!

YOUNG LATIN

Truly the highest form of worker compensation.

YOUNG GERMANIC

I know, right?

A woman in a hat and coat comes in from the rain. Her face is initially covered by her umbrella, but she is quickly revealed as GAULISH.

YOUNG GAULISH

(Chipper)

Hi, honey, sorry I'm late; I got caught up signing a petition for Save the Puppies. Those puppies aren't going to save themselves!

MODERN GERMANIC (V.O.)

O.K., I GET IT.

Cut to CELTIC and GERMANIC with tea.

GERMANIC

Latin isn't always the best, but think about all the GOOD he's done! Why the ways he and Old English got along….

CELTIC

Wait, hold up now, OLD English?

GERMANIC

Yeah, English when she was little.

CELTIC

Wouldn't that be Young English?

GERMANIC

No, because you see she was young a long time ago, and thus that version of her is old in relation to the now. I read it on social media, so it must be true.

CELTIC

So, by that logic, I'm young?

GERMANIC

No. Now when English was old…

Ripple dissolve leads to a flashback/clip from Season 7 intro.

INT. OLD ENGLISH’S bedroom—Afternoon.

ENGLISH is jumping on the bed. LATIN is standing nearby.

OLD ENGLISH

But I don't want to take a nap! Don't make me! Interrobang!

 LATIN

No honey,  you’re not going to be ready for that until 1962, and you ARE tired darling. Sleep. Now. Please.

OLD ENGLISH

But I LIKE interrobangs; they are MUCH better than commas. I don't wanna sleep. I don’t wanna. I don't wanna. I don't WANNA!

LATIN

You’re making historically inaccurate references again. The network doesn’t like it when you do that. You know that means you're tired.

OLD ENGLISH

Look how jumbly I can be! Hwæt. We Gardena in geardagum,

þeodcyninga, þrym gefrunon,

hu ða æþelingas ellen fremedon…

Subtitles appear: LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings

of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,

we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!

LATIN

Well, now you don't make any sense at all. Lay down, and  you can have doughnuts for breakfast."

ENGLISH plops backward on the bed. LATIN sits next to her.

OLD ENGLISH

Daddy, could you go get Mommy to tell me a story? Yours aren't very good.

LATIN

No, Mommy is at the supermarket, remember? She's dog-sitting for Mrs. ASL next week, and Braille needs the finest premium food.

LAIN AND OLD ENGLISH

Spoiled rotten dog.

Footage pauses.

NARRATOR

We at The English Language Show (trademarked, copyrighted, original characters do not steal), would like to note that both Braille and what would become American Sign Language have their roots in France around the 1700s. We can only hope that this gross disregard for historical accuracy in exchange for representation points will be forgiven by our viewers.

You may now continue with your regularly scheduled program.

Footage continues.

LATIN

(Ironically)

Hey, I know! How about you tell ME a story? That would work, right?

Old English

Alright, but you need to pay good attention. Ahem. Once there was a great supermarket where all the cool hero people and stuff went to have parties, and all was good. Until a goblin came and shouted 'you’re too loud’ and stuffed them into his mouth like they were morgenmete! Num num num. And then all the heroes were sad because there was blood all over the carpet and none of their mommies weren’t home to clean it up-

LATIN

Well, actually, mommies aren’t the only ones who-

OLD ENGLISH

Daddy, I’m telling a STORY. It’s not your turn to talk.   

LATIN

I’m sorry, but mommies aren’t the only ones-

OLD ENGLISH

All seemed lost, but then Beowulf (who was like the GREATEST hero) showed up! And he was awesome! And he beat up seaweed monsters! And he got all good grades in math! And all the teachers were like, ‘oh Beowulf, you SO smart. Why don’t you just have a recess for the rest of the day?’ And they said that all the days except Wednesdays because that’s when I have soccer, and I HATE soccer…

LATIN

But what happened to the other hero people with their goblin problem?

OLD ENGLISH

I was getting to that! So, Beowulf beat him up, and the goblin went running home to his mommy.

LATIN

Beowulf didn’t trick the goblin into giving him treasure or kill his twin brother to show the might of Roman patriotism? I mean- Hurray!

OLD ENGLISH

Oh, but the mommy wanted revenge! And so, she came to the supermarket and stole all their food

LATIN

Ak.

OLD ENGLISH

And Beowulf went after her and was like ‘you’re not very nice,’ and Grindle’s mommy-

Latin

Grindle?

OLD ENGLISH

 The baby goblin was named Grindle, and he was all ‘oh no, I will stop being bad now. Rar. Here’s a magic sword as a token of my friendship!’ And Beowulf said ‘cool.’ And he got tons of treasure, and all the ladies and everyone wanted to be his friend, and then he got killed by a dragon and died. The End!

ENGLISH  collapses asleep. LATIN shakes his head amusedly.

Dissolves back to CELTIC and GERMANIC.

GERMANIC

So, you see, without Latin, English would have far different story ideas and worldviews.

CELTIC

I still say that man’s trouble! I shudder to imagine what he’s doing now.

The camera pans back through the chaos to LATIN hiding behind a photo booth. GREEK SR. walks by with some cotton candy nonchalantly. LATIN drags him over to his hiding spot. GREEK continues eating his treat.

GREEK

So, who are we hiding from this time?

LATIN

I am keeping an eye on my kids

GREEK

Why the secrecy?

LATIN

(Snappishly)

 Because YOU are not going to make the same mistake you made at episode 10/66!

GREEK

Wasn’t that years ago? And I think it turned out pretty good, all things considered. Leave French and English alone.

LATIN

It turned out pretty well, you mean. And another thing you’re wrong about?  10/66 was HORRIBLE. I remember it like it was yesterday-

Ripple dissolve starts and abruptly stops as GREEK waves it away.

GREEK

Do you even remember what you had for breakfast yesterday?

LATIN

As I was saying-

Ripple dissolve. Season 10, Episode 66.

INT. LATIN’S Bedroom—Evening.

LATIN is pacing and holding a walkie-talkie.

LATIN

Etcetera to Logophile, come in Logophile. Are you in position? Over.

GREEK(OS.)

Logophile to… whatever your name is, Latin. In position, over.

LATIN

 Etcetera- I just said it’s Etcetera. Do you want to blow my cover? Over.

Cuts to GREEK.

EXT. Behind shed.

GREEK

I mean… maybe? This is all your own fault, you know.

LATIN (O.S.)

I KNOW it is, but this is bigger than anything I’ve ever done! My fourteen old daughter is going on a date with my son from a different woman!

GREEK

How come you know English’s age, but not French’s? That doesn’t seem like good parenting.

LATIN(OS.)

It’s English’s show so that’s where most of the research budget went. . It’s not like I have time to google his age. Leave me alone. Now listen-

Cut to LATIN.

LATIN

Has French come by yet?

GREEK(OS.)

Oh, yeah. He just went in the house ten minutes ago or so.

LATIN

One minute.

LATIN sets the walkie-talkie on the dresser. He punches his pillow. He does spontaneous push-ups. He screams at the ceiling.

Cut to the kitchen. FRENCH, ENGLISH, and GERMANIC look confusedly at the stairs.

Cut to GREEK hearing the elongated scream and putting gum in his mouth.

Cut to LATIN. LATIN takes a deep breath and picks up the walkie-talkie.

LATIN

O.K., O.K.. We can work with this.

Cut to  GREEK.

LATIN(O.S.)

Raaaa. Greek, I want you to go in and be as annoying as possible, and hopefully… French will be embarrassed and leave. Ok? Ok! Father of the year goes to me.

GREEK

Yeah, couldn’t have gone to a nicer guy—

Cut to the kitchen. ENGLISH writes in a notebook and points at the food with her pencil.

ENGLISH

What do you call those dishes, French?

FRENCH

Porc, bœuf, and poulette.

ENGLISH

I like pork and beef, but I’m going to keep chicken.

FRENCH

You’re never going to pass the test if you keep doing that.

ENGLISH

Well if it ain’t broke-

GERMANIC places the pork, beef, and chicken dishes on the table.

FRENCH

Thank you, Mrs. Pro. This all looks delicious; you’ve simply outdone yourself!

GERMANIC

Why you’re welcome, French. (To English) Stop slouching, English. This is your first date, and you should at least pretend to be happy.

GERMANIC smiles warmly at English to demonstrate. ENGLISH sits up, almost hyperextended. She tilts her head and smiles with all of her teeth.

GERMANIC

(Whispering to ENGLISH)

Not that happy.

ENGLISH relaxes slightly. GERMANIC goes to the counter and starts putting dirty dishes in the sink.

FRENCH

Hey, English, is something up? You’ve been weird all day.

ENGLISH

(Sardonically)

Well, you and Mom have been jello along biter than you and I ever have, and Dad hasn’t shown his face ONCE, but other than that, I think it’s been going pretty wellspring.

GERMANIC

I’m not apologizing for being awesome.

FRENCH

Have you been getting words wrong to make me laugh… or…?

ENGLISH

My letters get all jumbly when I’m excited. Also, it's not WRONG if people can still understand it.

FRENCH

O.K., then.

Enter GREEK

GERMANIC

Oh, hi, Greek; how you doing?

GREEK

Heya…

FRENCH

Hi, Mr. Greek.

ENGLISH

How do you know Greek?

FRENCH

He’s Greek. He knows everyone.

GREEK

Actually, I just know Latin, and HE knows everyone. And all things considered… I would say he knows both of your moms VERY well.

ENGLISH

French, why would MY dad know YOUR mom?

FRENCH

Wait, Latin isn’t your dad, Latin is MY dad.

GERMANIC

(Growls) It looks like I’m going to need to have the talk with that man… again.

GREEK

(Rooting through cupboard)

OOO,  is this baklava, Mrs. Pro.?

GERMANIC

That’s for Latin! Yeah, have as much as you want.

GREEK

Don’t mind if I do.

In the background, FRENCH goes into the living room.

ENGLISH

Mom, did you KNOW?

GERMANIC

English. French needs you right now. We’ll talk about this later when everyone’s more levelheaded.

ENGLISH enters the living room with FRENCH.

GERMANIC

Greek, Latin didn’t have those stupid walkie-talkie spy movie things on him, did he?

GREEK

Yep. He did. Help yourself.

GREEK slides his walkie-talkie across the table to GERMANIC. She picks it up.

GERMANIC

Wife to… I’m going to say Et Alii? I’ve just heard the news of someone who almost let his daughter do something extremely STUPID.”

LATIN(OS)

(Growls)

Greek, what were you thinking? They are both going to be so traumatized. You were supposed to do this more delicately—

Cuts to LATIN in an upstairs hallway.

GERMANIC(OS)

Well, I think our good friend Greek was thinking quite CLEARLY, unlike certain others that I will neglect to mention—

LATIN

Either you are Nordic and really do play checkers every other Friday, or you’re a hypocrite.

ARE THE KIDS ALRIGHT?

Cuts to the kitchen.

GERMANIC

Yes. They will be alright. I’m pretty sure it was just a study date anyhow. You are still in trouble, young man!

Ripple dissolve. LATIN and GREEK back at the reunion. LATIN glares at GREEK expectantly.

GREEK

As I said, it all worked out. Look at those two, STILL thick as thieves ,and no Luke and Leia situations… though I, too, have seen the Reddit threads.  

Cut to a wide shot with FRENCH and ENGLISH talking amicably in the foreground and GREEK and LATIN spying in the background. FRENCH and ENGLISH are waiting in line for popcorn. Cut back to GREEK and LATIN.

GREEK

You see?

LATIN

Well, that’s all well and good for them, but it doesn’t make it less creepy that they are still friends. I swear I have brain damage from all the stress those two have put me through.

GREEK

You didn’t have brain damage before?

LATIN

What did you say?

Cuts to ENGLISH and FRENCH.

ENGLISH

So, what were we talking about?

FRENCH

Well, recently, I’ve been researching the pros and cons of revolution and rioting as instruments for societal reform, and I think you could learn a thing or two-

ENGLISH

No, no, I meant we should talk about ME.

FRENCH

I was telling a STORY. You wait your turn when someone else is telling a story!

ENGLISH

First off, No one cares. Secondly, it’s not MY fault that my name is in the show’s title! Get your own show!

FRENCH

Maybe I WILL!

FRENCH marches a couple of steps away.

ENGLISH

Please wait until AFTER the scene is over.

FRENCH

Les Rats.

ENGLISH shrugs. FRENCH returns begrudgingly.

FRENCH

(Dryly)

Oh, dear English. I have been dying to know how your blog has been doing. I will simply burst into a column of flames if you do not tell me this thing.

ENGLISH

(Chipperly)

I’m glad you asked French! And the answer is… terribly!

FRENCH

Oh no. You sound so despondent. I may burst into a column of flames.

ENGLISH

I KNOW, it IS horrible. My article on the works of William Shakespeare is blowing up, but no one CARES about anything else I’ve written!

FRENCH casually looks at the sky.

FRENCH

Maybe they’re appalled by your bad spelling.

ENGLISH glares at him.

FRENCH

I mean… You spell like an angel!... who just so happens to be on narcotics. What a tragedy! I have no idea how you will emotionally recover from your top-rated blog entry. Oh, the humanity.

ENGLISH

‘Tis true! I shall be forbearer tethered to my Shakespeare work and never progress beyond it! Woe is me!

FRENCH

That is FOREVER tethered. To further change the subject, what else have you written recently? 

ENGLISH

I don’t know. I rebooted Robin Hood again recently… I write a lot of stuff. Stop bothering me!

FRENCH

Look, you’re early into your modern phase. There’s plenty of time to write stuff that will be better.

ENGLISH

Thank YOU. The things I have to do to get a semblance of a compliment around here, I mean, my WORD!

FRENCH

Sorry, did you say something? Dad and Greek are fighting over something.

Cut to FRENCH & ENGLISH foreground, GREEK & LATIN background camera.

LATIN has GREEK by the shoulders against the wall and is exaggeratedly kicking at his shins. No audio.

Close-up on FRENCH and ENGLISH.

FRENCH

Do you have any idea what they’re saying?

ENGLISH

No idea. It’s all Greek and Dad to me.

Cut to wide shot.

Theme music plays.

GREEK frees himself and starts bopping LATIN on the head. FRENCH offers ENGLISH some popcorn. The camera pans up to the clouds.

NARRATOR

And so ends the English Language Show. While we had a good run, the ratings we have received while editing the film  have put to rest any indication of the revival that we so dearly hoped for. As Narrator, I deeply apologize to all our dedicated fans-

ENGLISH

Dudette, whatcha talkin’‘bout?

Cut to ENGLISH.

NARRATOR

Um… Excuse me?

ENGLISH

Cool down, sister. Dr. Bryan and the Harvest Editing Team totes stan this script. It’s not going anywhere, girl.

NARRATOR

Dr. Who? Harvest what?

ENGLISH

Oh right, you’re not on my level. K dawg, I am the QUEEN. Whenever the British navy sent out people, you can bet I did not have FOMO, ya crazy cat. (Really should bring that back; the ‘50s were WILD). After that hassle, I was everywhere. Everyone from China to Timbuktu knows me, so I ain’t going nowhere!

NARRATOR

Well then, I suppose the show goes on… with absolutely insane dialogue and disregard for traditional grammar it seems. Not sure how I feel about that…

The camera pans up to clouds while theme music plays.

Credits roll.

Cut to CELTIC and GERMANIC for post-credit scene.

CELTIC

That’s it? No difference between the inner circle and outer circle English? No reference to the Canterbury Tales or the Norman invasions? What IS this show?

GERMANIC

Mom, it’s what the people want. Who are we to argue with that?

CELTIC

But this is the last episode, and there’s so much more that we could touch on! I demand justice for the death of gendered nouns! And the only element we got for Modern English was a bunch of Star Wars references! There is SO much more to English than that!

GERMANIC

Well, there is a twist to this episode…

CELTIC

That you divorce Latin and live a life of peace and happiness?

GERMANIC

No.

CELTIC

Rats!

GERMANIC

The TWIST is that THIS was the pilot all along

CELTIC

What?! But the Narrator kept saying—

GERMANIC

Just because there are no more episodes of the show doesn’t mean it’s the end of English, Mom. The English language was influenced by many factors throughout history, but we truly don’t know where it will end up.

CELTIC

So, this was just a special pretending to be a season finale the whole time? America surely is creatively bankrupt.

GERMANIC

No argument there.

End.

Research and Development

Anonymous. “Beowulf (Modern English Translation) by Anonymous.” Poetry Foundation, Poetry

Foundation, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50114/beowulf-modern-english-

translation.

Anonymous. “Beowulf (Old English Version) by Anonymous.” Poetry Foundation, Poetry

Foundation, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43521/beowulf-old-english-version.

“Beowulf.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, Inc.,

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Beowulf.

Classics Summarized: Don Quixote - YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2C--8o3MVE.

“The History of Braille [Your Braille Resource].” Braille Works, 27 June 2019,

https://brailleworks.com/braille-resources/history-of-braille/.

“History of Italian Language: From the Origins to the Present Day.” Europass, 11 Nov. 2021,

https://www.europassitalian.com/learn/history/.

“Learn How to Format a Screenplay: Step-by-Step Guide - 2021.” MasterClass,

https://www.masterclass.com/articles/what-is-a-screenplay-formatting-tips-and-tricks#what-

font-is-best-for-writing-a-screenplay.

Legends Summarized: Robin Hood - YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9mshRaY8gTs.

“News and Events.” Https://Www.dawnsign.com, https://www.dawnsign.com/news-detail/history-of-

american-sign-language.

Nordquist, Richard. “What Is a Logophile?” ThoughtCo, ThoughtCo, 6 Feb. 2018,

https://www.thoughtco.com/what-is-a-logophile-

1691139#:~:text=A%20logophile%20is%20a%20lover,is%20obsessively%20interested

%20in%20words.%22.

Univ., Arnovick, Leslie K. (professor, Department Of English. English Language - a Linguistic

History. 3rd ed., Oxford University Press, Canad, 2016.

Book I: Contrition

By Joseph Ziesing

I

A Knock in the Night

It is a misfortunate but not altogether unusual occurrence that finds the individual tossing and turning without means of rest. That is to say, falling asleep is all that an individual might wish for once they find themselves snugly tucked between their sheets and mattress after retiring for the day.

            This was just such the situation that Professor Macabre found himself in on the night of the seventeenth of October. The wind was howling outside. Tree branches threw themselves unabashedly upon the glass windows framing the upper room, while the bed attempted to seduce the old man’s consciousness into a cozy stupor.

Silhouettes of wispy and ever-changing clouds hovered then darted across the moonlit sky. At first, they seemed to block the harsh light from peeking through the unsuitable curtains drawn across the window, but then—at the perfectly imperfect moment—the specters would jump aside, casting fistfuls of white light between the tears in the curtains and into the lazy eyelids of the uneasy professor.

            He could not sleep.

            At times, the moonlight would dim; the hoots and howls of the night would hush, but only for a moment—a tortuous respite.

It was in such one of these moments, as the professor’s eyes drooped closed again—for what seemed to him a final moment before serenity—that there was a sound at the door.

Knock.

Eyes popped open with arid disdain. A strained body bolting upright and twisting—hoping to locate the source of this malignant interruption. Then again:

Knock.

            The professor could not withhold his incredulity. The clock struck 2:00 A.M. Fingers scraped along blankets and squeezed pillows bitterly.

             Who? At this hour? Surely a mistake. No one would be so unreasonable as to wake a man from the edge of sleep. Not merely at night, but at the peak of misfortunate exhaustion. But in his moment of disbelief, it happened again.

            Knock.

            The professor leapt from his bed—covers flying like vapors through the air. He marched, outlining the greater part of the oblong mahogany chest and rectangular bed crammed into one corner of the room. He stomped towards the staircase, stumbling for a moment as he slipped into wool slippers, and fastened his robe around himself. Then, having descended rather stubbornly, the professor paused at the door.

Who? He took a moment and hid his hazy frustration. He stuffed his improprieties into the pockets of his robes. Then Professor Macabre twisted the three deadbolts of his door.

            Click.

            Clack.

            Clunk.

            He twisted the doorknob, pulled up then pushed out against the resolute door. It complied with a low groan and a creaking creep into the house. The professor strained his neck forward, then twisted it around just outside the apparently abandoned doorstep.

            “Who?” He looked around, his improprieties threatening to leap from his pockets.

            “Macabre,” the woods echoed.

            The professor shook with a start. Eyes widened then snapped open and close in quick succession. His eyes swept the forest looking for the source of the disembodied chant. But he saw no one. For a fleeting moment, Macabre felt like a child—who after witnessing the simplest of parlor tricks could not begin to form an explanation. He remained, transfixed, still. The professor shook in the cold nocturnal air. The moon pasted withering silhouettes against the cottage wall.

            Not more than a minute passed of Macabre staring into the woods. Then, lightning flashed, thunder crashed, and—inexplicably—a sapling sat squarely on his porch. It appeared against reason.

            “Macabre,” the voice rang out, still and small, residing in his ear. The professor’s eyes shot towards the canopy before scanning the wood.

It was the same voice as before, but this time somehow different. Material. It seemed to carry more breath. The professor could not put his finger on it, but somehow the voice seemed closer—and, for a fleeting moment, Professor Macabre seemed to believe it had been the voice of the tree.

            Disbelief struck the professor squarely in his chest.

On his porch the tree sat still. Not a mighty oak, or chestnut, or spruce. An ordinary sapling: a fig tree it seemed—abandoned, but now at home upon his porch.

How miserable, to feel such intense bewilderment in my own home—at this hour! Surely, an apparition. A figment of a fig tree. I only need to wake up and see for myself. He eyed the sapling; he looked it up and down. It did not move; it was content upon the porch.

The professor felt his eyelids drooping. Perhaps he was tired, but this was more than a dream. Though his mind churned, he could not comprehend. Yet somehow the professor knew. The night air nipped at his throat and chewed on his robe. Perhaps, not a dream at all.

The professor paused and stared blankly. A fig tree on my porch. It does not make sense—though sense is most hard to find when the clock has creeped past midnight.

Macabre. It still rang in his ears. He could not draw his name from the air. It hung there hammering upon his better wisdom. Though he tried, he could not make sense of the voice. Trees cannot. Living in this forest, the professor knew quite well. Trees do not speak.

He felt his mind spiraling. It ran along byroads taking turns down dark paths. It looked in every corner: the impossible, the forsaken. Finding nothing, it climbed trees beside the roads; pushing aside branch arms and leaves, it scoured for fruit. Finding nothing, it descended to the dirt. There it dug. Handful by hasty handful, into the earth. Looking. Searching.

Desperate, the professor took a step towards the tree. Then another. Then another. Then another. He held the sapling: his hand grasped its branch. Not so peculiar, the familiar wisp of a young tree, the flex of the wood, but how did it come to my door? Would someone leave this tree on my porch? Why—no, who? Who would know where to go? Or else who—when stumbling upon this home, would knock, only to leave a small tree at the doorstep? The wispy branch remained, and the professor continued to tire. Tomorrow would do. Until then, this impropriety would stay. The present of some strange breed of houseguest that knocked but left no trace… save, a tree—and just past two.

Turning, the professor’s eye caught the clock. Indeed! Not past two, but three and a quarter! An hour had passed since the professor had found himself leaping from bed. How could the time have gone? The professor quieted the question. Time to sleep. This night had been long; he would need these few hours to make sense of it, come morning. He turned to go, but his arm remained stopped.

His hand held the branch, or rather, the branch held his hand. Macabre’s arm tensed. His heart started to race. He pulled his hand swiftly—tug after tug—it was trapped by that tree.

The branch would not budge! It was at this moment, the professor’s arm started to numb. He flailed his arm wildly—an attempt to free it—but it only held firmer. The branch was twisting up his arm. It started at his wrist then it crawled up his forearm and along his bicep—up to his chest. It was not quite to his neck. It stopped a bit short. Instead, the frail, small branch reached towards his heart—squeezing like a vice all the while.

He began to panic.

He could not move himself or the tree. Both were planted so firmly to the house. He looked to the forest, then the plant, then inside. He felt his blood freezing as his fears took hold, and in that moment, the professor did something—peculiar. He looked at the sapling and then looked at his hand. Macabre spoke to the tree. The words came choked out, as if they were prompted by the pain and not his own reason.

“What is this devilry? Why have you come to torment me?”

This seemed to produce an effect. The tree began to change—its shape loosened and stretched. Rather than tighten, the branches seemed to slacken and slump. Macabre, wary, moved slowly further from the tree and his arm began to slide out of its grip. Spirits rising, he pulled again, but as his wrist began to pull free—the tree cinched fast. His arm was stuck. Shackled to the sapling. Macabre lifted his face and the young sapling lifted Macabre.

Up,

Up,

Up,

Up.

As it lifted Macabre into the air, the tree began to move. Its roots retracted from below the porch and twisted together as though feet themselves. Dirt-clogged footpads stepping, it moved to the lawn. Roots splaying at odd ends. The tree carried him by the arm, the branch lowering Macabre only momentarily to clear the door before lifting him high once more.

He stared at the sapling—no longer so frail. It towered above him, planted deep in the earth with roots like legs and a division of trunks twisting and turning together. Some branches wove together, others twisted around the trunk, as though this tree had a face. A thick, groaning face, with notches for eyes that seemed to glow green. The shades of the wood seemed to shadow and sharpen its features. In the center, two thick branches seemed to make the rugged outline of mouth and lips. Mossy eyebrows and beard framed its countenance. Boughs sprung up and out from the trunk—a wide leafy crown. Professor Macabre seemed to shrink.

“Macabre,” the tree said without a doubt, “I have come to collect you. Your time has run out.” Still, it held him by its branch; it lifted him so that only his toes touched the ground. Macabre swallowed hard.

“What have I done, that you seek me out? A tree, murderer? What do I owe, that you collect from me?”

The sapling dragged Macabre forward, near to its maw. It lowered him further; the professor fell to his knees. Then the tree seemed to stoop forward, the wood groaning as it did. Whispering, the tree said:

“This choice propagule

moribund severing

left to take root

and reach its weathering.

And so each stump,

rinded trunk and sap

draught bead by bead

succumbs to dewlap.

You hidden-hearted

home dwelling tome,

defile and fill your

dry-pocketed phloem.

Else swarth-footed

ivy-like decay garners

non-climacteric

erudite martyrs.

Macabre, find your binding

the others soon advance.”

            As the last words were spoken, the tree went stiff. Its branches turned a strange gray and hardened like stone. Its face seemed to fade as the wood lost its color, and so the professor froze too.

Horrified, he flung himself away from the tree. With a snap, the branch broke from the trunk and the professor went tumbling, heels overhead. He came to rest a few feet down the lawn.

He took jagged breaths. He shook with each one. Then he saw it—his hands lifted to wipe perspiration from his brow. The branch remained. It was wound around his arm seven times before tapering up his bicep and towards his heart.

He stared at himself. Frightened. The tumble had seemed to loosen the branches so that he could bend his arm, but the branch itself was twisted firm around his wrist, like a strong vine. He could not remove it.

His hand still throbbing, he looked back towards the tree, but the tree was gone. In its place—a stump—a husk of a tree. And planted firm in the stump was the shining, glimmering blade of an axe. The handle pointed up to the moon.

            The professor’s eyes widened; he felt a cold sweat trace his throat. He looked towards the house, then towards the woods. Then pushing himself up, he stood unsure before the two. Mud and grass-stained his robe; his slippers were cold and wet. He made up his mind and hobbled towards the porch. Wasting no time, he slammed the door shut.

Clunk.

Clack.

Click.

II

Meager Arrangements

Professor Macabre slumped to the floor, relying on the stiff support of the old oak door. He sat still, hardly moving, though his mind tremored uncontrollably—he could not help himself.

            “Others.”

            Macabre winced at the thought. He shrank into the dead wood of the door. It is not safe. With shaking uncertainty, he coaxed his legs underneath himself. Then amassing some semblance of will, they pushed him upright.

            His back firm against the door and his feet quite unfirm below him, Macabre stood for a moment and swallowed a breath. He collected his anxieties, a fistful at a time, and stuffed them deep down in his stomach. Take heart, Macabre. He let the words guide him, and—in a wavering moment of courage—the professor pushed himself away from the door and into the parlor. He limped forward. Soggy slippers slapped against the floor with each step. He summoned his dignity and walked through the parlor. Step by step.

Finally, fumbling fingers felt the familiar banister—the beginning of the winding staircase upstairs. Thus, he began his climb—step by begrudging step—and all the while, he counted to himself. One pair of socks, one pair of pants, one pair of boots, and one pair of trousers. Step. One undershirt, one corduroy dress shirt, one waistcoat, and one wool overcoat. Step. One pair of mittens, the keys to the buggy, one… no, two torches, and my manuscripts. Step. As he reached the top of the stairs, he was quite certain his original count would never do. Yes indeed, it would never do.

Thus, Macabre came to a new and final count after several steps and several reasonable adjustments: two pairs of socks, one pair of pants, one pair of boots, two pairs of trousers, two handkerchiefs, two pouches of tobacco, one pipe, two undershirts, one corduroy dress shirt and one starched white, one waistcoat, one wool overcoat, two pairs of mittens, the keys to the buggy, three torches (in the event that two should die out), three days rations, two spare cans of gasoline, one loaded revolver (with an additional five rounds), and my manuscripts.

Yes. That will suffice.

It was a meager list for the four-hour drive to come, but one Macabre would be best suited to, should he depart with haste. He pried open the chest at the foot of his bed—took out his pants, socks, undershirts, and trousers and placed them in a neat stack beside the chest. He fumbled out from his robe and into fresh vestments.

He moved towards his closet and proceeded to don a dress shirt, but—as he slipped his left arm through the shirt—he was put off by a realization: the branch still held true to his arm. It had seemed in the last few moments, so far relegated from his recollection, that he would have thought the night a dream.

It was no dream. He pulled at the branch, attempting to lever his fingers beneath the wooden cord. It was cinched fast. Tight enough to become a nuisance, but not enough to prevent circulation. He could not remove it.

Perhaps, my seeker… no, a knife.

Macabre moved to the desk that occupied the wealth of the room. His right arm hung high so as to keep on the half of the donned dress shirt. His left arm twisted before him as he examined the edges of the branch.

The wood itself was dull. It had the smallness of the fig tree, while maintaining the stiff, slate texture of the old tree. It was smooth-grained and ruddy grey. But rather than one thick branch, it was woven of many parts. Each root and fiber twisted and flattened into itself. The effect was a mosaic of piebald-grey branches that twisted beautifully with each turn of grain. He shuddered.

Serrated sheepsfoot in hand, Macabre leveled the blade onto the branch, parallel to his arm. He sawed slowly at first, careful to avoid nicking himself, but soon built speed as thin spindly branches fell away from the weave. Soon there was a pile of torn tree at his feet, and he eased the knife away. To his alarm the dead branch held strong. It was undeniably different, yet it continued in beauty and strength. As though the branch was growing within itself always.

Macabre dropped the knife. Its point buried itself in the floorboards with a thunk. The handle tremored slightly in the wood, pointing up. The professor turned his gaze, pushed his other arm through the sleeve of the shirt until only a glimpse of the branch was noticeable. The starched cuff of the shirt itself hardly hinted towards the branch’s existence beneath. He buttoned the shirt, top to bottom, before snapping his waistcoat around himself. Snap. Snap. Snap.

He moved, retrieved his boots, and sitting, unceremoniously thrust his feet into them. Whether it be confidence of habit or sheer focused haste, the professor did not stop to adjust his waistcoat or the collar of his dress shirt as he had so many other days. Instead, passing his mirror, Macabre limped to his bedside. Tugging on the drawer of his nightstand, he produced a small black pipe which he quickly deposited into the outer pocket of his waistcoat before turning to descend the stairway once again.

            These moments of gathering a perfectly natural—if not meager—arrangement of provisions and articles—at least by the professor’s standards—passed in a heated hurry. Soon the professor stood facing the solid oak door once again. He nervously palmed his pipe in his waistcoat pocket.

His suitcase sat by hand. It was a short, stout companion filled with canned goods, canteens, spare clothes, pens, paper, torches, matches, spices, tobacco, handkerchiefs, and of course his manuscripts—which contrary to the other contents had been well-padded by spare newspapers and tissues, so as to keep distance between it and the other lesser contents.

An anxiety slipped free from the professor’s stomach and floated up into his throat. He swallowed it. Then he counted once more, eyeing his arrangements. He was unsure of his preparations, but the count was there. Feet planted firm, he steeled himself with what reason he could muster. Then retrieving the keys to his buggy, he found himself ready to depart. His hand shook as it reached forward.

            Apprehensive fingers found the first bolt.

            Click.

            Is this my best course? Macabre paused; his arm froze and did not dare move. Perhaps, I have gone mad—I feel this branch wreathing my arm—moving with each pulse—I have seen it with my own eyes. But. Do I dare wait herein? His arm dropped slightly. His hand hung on the next bolt—barely, but there it rested. This is my best course.

            Clack.

            The lock twisted and Macabre felt himself recoil. If this was all real, do I dare face whatever may await me in this dark and late night? Is that my best path? Am I to face it or am I to fear it? I will be found out soon enough if I stay. I do not have the necessary arrangements to wait—holed away like some rat or beast awaiting the inevitable. Soon enough, my mind will lose faith and I will answer some future fateful knock or else starve. If I shall wait, how long will I gaze up at this axe strung above my head—ever daring to fall swift and sharp?

            Macabre was motionless. His arm was now fixed to the second bolt. It was prepared to reverse the action. If only he could derive such a judgement and begin his ascent to bed. No. He would not remain with the axe poised to strike. Instead, moving swift and sharp, he would flee, in hopes of marooning himself from that fateful blade—perhaps he could even find some less enchanted place where he may be truly safe. He looked to the clock.

Ten over four.

Time was short; he must make up his mind. If he was to go, it must be now.

Uncertain fingers dripped—melting from the second to the third—then, resting for only a moment, they pulled swift against the stiff strong bolt.

            Clunk.

            Macabre did not offer himself time for a repose. His hand grasped the doorknob and pulling up then pushing out, he opened the door.

            Tendrils of cold air seeped into the parlor as Macabre slipped into the night.

III

One Thing After Another

The buggy was loaded; its pale headlights shone on the dirt road tapering through the wood. Everything else was dark, save for the sliver of moon that illuminated some select trees and cast jagged silhouettes and fearful shadows along his path.

Trees with faces.

At least, that is precisely what the professor warned himself from imagining as he steered his buggy with calm recklessness—along the overgrown brush path in the depth of night. The weathered, underused tires wobbled in their axles, seemingly shaking with the professor’s anxieties. Something had come loose in the trunk and was drifting aimlessly side to side in the belly of it, knocking against one thing after another as the road wound on.

Macabre bolstered himself against the steering wheel. Two pale hands gripped vengefully around the wheel—not quite rough enough to do permanent harm, but enough to leave their mark. Nonetheless, the face of the tree found its way into the face of every other thing along the road.

The professor assuaged the phantoms swirling towards his mind by numbering their causes: Tree, noun: a woody perennial plant, typically having a single stem or trunk, growing to a considerable height and bearing lateral branches at some distance from the ground. Purpose? The expulsion of oxygen as a consequence of photosynthesis—ordered to counteract the displacement of carbon dioxide by other higher organisms. Furthermore, useful in combustion as a means of warmth, fuel, or chemical reaction. Furthermore, furthermore, useful in the construction of houses, tools, paper, and other necessities. Tree: suited to the purpose most afforded by each.

“Yes, that has helped considerably,” Macabre said to himself.

Indeed, by all accounts, the professor’s breath seemed to slacken. His gaze on the trees blurred—no longer held captive by the shadows along the road. His hands seemed even to loosen their grip, and at last, his heart turned predictable, still.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Macabre let out a sigh. The first sigh—it seemed to him—since this whole affair had begun. Perhaps… His thoughts trailed off; he was uncertain where they were headed. He stopped himself from pursuing them and refocused on the road.

He was coming to the first fork in the road. Although fork was a generous term—as the byroad itself was more of an overgrown pathway trailing down deeper into the woods. That path had not been used since well before the professor’s tenure had begun, and the time showed. Ivy and thistles sprung up at odd angles all along the path. There was no longer bare dirt and gravel, but instead assortments of shale collected in heaps alongside vegetation sprouting in overrun tire ruts. Three trees crossed over the entrance of the path, twisting together into one unified perch well above the ground. The professor might not have noticed the fork at all, if not for the glare of the moon upon a dilapidated road sign marking the way.

As the professor’s automobile neared the fork, he could not help glancing at the sign. The car slowed—as much as for the bend of the road, as the professor’s own curiosity—allowing the professor to make out the faded ivory letters notched into the sign:

Entropy.

The professor recoiled; he had never thought to read the sign, having in fact passed it only on the infrequent and disinterested occasion. And while he could not explain it, he quite disliked the sign. He loathed it.

Turning from the sight, the professor put his foot on the throttle and fed the engine. The tires spun suddenly, and the car lurched forward.

Straight towards a tree—a tree.

Planted firm in the road was a tree. The professor reeled and turned the wheel with vicious dexterity, betraying his fears. The car groaned under the duress but complied with a high-pitched squeal and the slipping of tires. The car whipped around the tree, but it would not turn from the forsaken road. The professor’s hands yanked to turn back the wheel, but the car did not respond—or rather, the steering wheel held fast.

Macabre’s eyes widened. He felt his hand grow numb; his arm went cold and limp against the helm. Then it slipped from the wheel altogether but remained suspended between his lap and the dashboard—held up torturously by the branch. The branch once so grey dead against his skin was now alive with enmity. It tugged back on the wheel, wrapping branches firmly around it and planting spindles of roots deep into the dashboard.

“Damn you, cruel wood!” the professor shouted. He dug his foot firmly into the brake and all the while pulled at the wheel with his free hand. The tires spun in a weak attempt to slow the car. To no avail.

The car crashed into the path. Thistles were torn and thrown asunder before its hood. Tires struck a pile of stone. The car was whipped up unevenly into the air. The professor’s temple smacked against the wheel as the car crashed back to the ground, still rolling. He braced himself one-handedly while plying at the brakes. Blood dripped into his eyes and from his nose. The car continued to rock and toss the professor ruthlessly as it plowed down into the forest. It ripped through the forest, carrying chunks of bindweed and streamers of thistles along its perilous circuit.

Macabre mashed the brakes ruthlessly, but the car refused to slow. A boulder tossed up by the fray crashed against the windshield. Glass shattered and scattered into the vehicle, slicing leather and flesh indiscriminately. The professor’s hand slipped once again; his head tumbled forward into the dashboard.

He pushed himself up and used his hand to wipe blood from his eyes, bracing himself against the dash with his other. The other? Sure enough! The branch had loosened its fiendish grip on him and had returned to inanimate wreath. He spent no time on the thought, for mere meters away was his demise.

A boulder, or rather, a behemoth of stone slate. Set upright and not far ahead of his car. He would surely collide with it on this present pathway.

The professor made one final effort. He flung both hands around the wheel and, twisting sharply with both hands while returning his foot firm upon the break, turned the car. The car twisted awkwardly, meanderingly, rapidly away from the block and into a stream. Chunks of dirt and stone sprayed forward as the buggy ran through the creek bank, coming to a heaving stop.

Macabre’s vision was hazy. He took a moment to lift his bruised head from the dashboard, all the while groaning with indignation. Dried blood cracked in his weary hands as he lifted one of them toward his head. His whole body shook. His head throbbed as if smashed against cliffs by relentless waves. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to look through the once windshield now mere frame of his buggy.

            It was dark. Foggy. Damp. Beyond the dim flickering of the remaining headlight and the immediate creek bank, he could only make out murky shapes outlined by intruding moonlight. He moved slowly and pushed open the misshapen, albeit functional, door of his buggy. He swung one leg outward, then the next, and hobbled out. Fumbling to the back of the automobile, he lifted open the ajar, battered trunk. Searching the internal wreckage, he eventually found a torch that flickered to life as he pushed the switch forward. The other torch was useless; its lens had been shattered and the bulb bashed somewhere along the way. The third torch doubtlessly lay somewhere behind him.

            Macabre swept the light across the forest floor and up the trees. Although he could tell definitively that the buggy had come from opposite its current position, he could not find the trail of torn vegetation and destruction he had anticipated. It was as if the trees, bush, and weed had already swallowed up any trace of his crash. There were no ruts, no broken branches. Everything seemed quite undisturbed. The crash had the opposite effect on the professor.

            “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

            To Macabre’s relief, the forest remained silent.

He limped around the buggy, his eyes darting from one shadow to the next. There is devilry at work here. Devilry was not something the professor would allow. Keeping his eyes level with the tree line—scanning it regularly—Macabre strode back to the buggy and slumped against its side. His limp had soured into something quite noticeable, for his left leg was altogether stiff and puffy, requiring an incredible amount of effort to bend. His breaths were heavy and uncertain. His nose was broken, although for the moment the pain itself was a dull throb. He closed his eyes for a moment, contorting the lacerations along his face. He dipped his head and rocked slightly.

            For what seemed like hours, but were truly moments, Macabre groaned as he sat shakily beside the beaten buggy. It was not long before the pain began to come into its own. Half aware, Macabre hobbled to the trunk and finding spare clothes, tore them into haphazard bandages. Most of his lacerations were left untreated, but the major bleeding subsided into stains bound around his forehead and arms.

He returned to the driver's side of the buggy—his secondary clothes shredded to bandages—when he realized that he was beginning to get cold—cold and hungry. He looked around wildly, desperately, before realizing he had packed food:

Three days rations: two canteens of water, two parcels of tea, four tins of corned beef, one loaf of bread, a wedge of stiff cheddar, two packages of boiled and salted tubers, and my remaining watercress egg salad sandwiches.

Wandering again to the trunk, he carried back a crumpled paper package and sat down for what was becoming one too many times. He unwrapped one half of a watercress and egg salad sandwich from the package and nibbled timidly at its edge before disregarding pleasantries and stuffing the thing largely into his mouth in the second bite.

            “You are dead, Macabre.”

            The professor dropped the second half of the sandwich—bread and egg salad spilling apart as it hit the ground. There was no clear origin of the voice. The wood was still.

            “Excuse me?” Macabre cried as he pushed himself up into the buggy and looked for the revolver.

            “You are dead. It is quite simple really,”

            “It’s rather complicated, I think you’ll find. Seeing as I am currently breathing and intend to keep on doing so.” His voice shook as he turned to the glove box. It was ajar—the revolver missing.

            “I am certain of it. They said you would be here at just this time. Here you are.”

The professor’s eyes widened. He scanned the car; he scoured it. “Perhaps you have the wrong person, you see, we are in the middle of the wood, along a path I was never meant to find.” His voice was muffled as he reached beneath the passenger seat, fingers groping for the misplaced revolver.

            “I have made no mistake. As for paths, I think you will come to see that this one was meant to find you.”

            Finding the revolver between his fingers, Macabre pulled back the hammer of the revolver and swung himself around just as a hand came to rest on his shoulder. Unblinkingly, he pulled the trigger. A round exploded out of the chamber and into the man’s gut. The man’s eyes opened wide—not so much in shock as in necessary reception of the bullet’s momentum.

            Macabre’s returned the gesture. The eyes fixed together were thus the same. Two sets of identical twinkling green eyes. Macabre stumbled backward, dropping the revolver. He did not hear the soft thud as the metal hit the grass. He stood face to face with a man who—while made of clay and standing naked in the woods—Macabre knew to be himself.

            The man across from the professor stood tall and serene. His skin shone with an earthy vitality; darker than Macabre’s own pale countenance. His eyes were green too, though with a mossy somberness that shook the professor. Sprouts of vegetation and tufts of moss covered his chest and arms with a brown and green hairiness that was disturbingly familiar.

            He seemed every bit to reflect Macabre’s own appearance—only he reflected a sharper image, more healthy, fit, and natural. The man was at peace. In fact, had it not been for the red sap dripping from the hole in his abdomen, the professor may not have been able to borrow enough credence to perceive the man’s separation from the creek and trees surrounding him.

            Macabre retched.

            “Oh, God,” Macabre said in response to his sense of raw guilt. I shot a man. I shot him. I shot… me? His mind began to spin as he could not begin to understand any of the conditions which he found himself firmly rooted between—he steadied himself by grasping his own abdomen while staring at the pieces of bread and watercress strewn across the forest floor—sandwiched rather.

            “Are you alright?”

Macabre stared eyes agape at the duplicate bleeding out in front of him. He could not help but share the urgent sense of mortality pouring out from the man’s bullet wound.

            The bullet Macabre had lodged in him.

            “Please.” Macabre looked up; the man had stepped nearer. He towered above him, “you must know, I meant no harm.”

            “Oh, but of course you did—hence the gun,” His eyes shone mournfully as he regarded the pistol to Macabre’s side with a meek nod. “The question is not if you shot me, but if you will do something about it.” The man offered him his hand.

            It was in this moment that the professor realized the duplicate was not towering over him—he stood at his full and natural height—rather, Macabre sat in a clump of fear, curled against the tire of his buggy in what might simply be referred to as a hug of desperation. He seemed to be seeking refuge, but no one would push open the hubcap—as though on door hinges leading towards some hidden sanctuary. He pushed himself away from the hubcap lightly and looked back at the earthen man.

            “Yes… of course, what is wrong with me? Sir—" the professor faltered, “I have little that can help you. I’m afraid there is no feasible way for me to transport us to safety, seeing as the buggy is utterly ruined. I don’t know what I can offer you.”

            “Let’s start with getting you up.” The man’s hand remained outstretched.

Macabre stared at the hand a moment, frozen. He felt the branch throb around his arm. He offered his other and their hands met. His hand was warm and strong full of strength. The man pulled Macabre up from the ground.

“You may call me Adam,” the duplicate said, locking his gaze with Macabre’s own.

Macabre’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.

“I’m sure that must be startling, but I assure you, it’s the name best suited to me.” His hand remained clasped to Macabre’s hand, but it began to grow cold. He smiled weakly at the professor and began to fall as Macabre stood to his full height. He let out a slight wince as he hit the ground. Macabre’s grasp slowed him—albeit unnoticeably. The ground offered a generally warm reception.

“I think now is the time you might help me, Michael,” the man said weakly from the professor’s arms.

Macabre was already down on his knees again, weighing the consequences of abandoning the man for a moment to retrieve the medical supplies he had packed. His name—Michael—had stopped him from deliberating.

“What—what is the meaning of this?” Macabre responded.

“A name is meant to be used. You have hidden behind your title for too long, Michael. Now enough of this delay; help me to the river.”

Macabre showed no signs of hearing Adam’s words, but the warm red stains leaking onto his hands left Macabre unable to freeze. The bright green of Adam’s eyes had faded to a dull and dusty sage. Macabre looked at the creek mere feet from their entangled tired bodies.

“Oh, of course—of course,” Macabre managed. He proceeded to bind his arms firmly around Adam by moving behind him. It was hardly the decorous recovery that Macabre had in mind, but there was hardly a moment for him to weigh such trivialities. He was not a strong man in his tenured age; he had been well wizened by the world and his studies, but his body was no better worn for it. Thus, the affair was largely hilarious as the aged Macabre weakly dragged his seeming duplicate towards the river in slow painstaking surges of effort.

Needless to say, Macabre slowly entered the cool waters of the river, nudging sticks out of his way as Adam was slowly brought to the edge of the riverbed. As the river began to deepen, the professor slowed to a stop, not daring to wade further.

“Further, Michael.”

The professor shuddered in the cold water swirling above his knees, “Are you sure? I’m of the mind that much further would not only trigger hypothermic shock in both of us, but likely result in the drowning of one of us—likely you.” But Adam did not respond; his eyes were closed, a smile pressed to his lips. Macabre was at first alarmed, and surges of fear filled his arms with the strength to draw Adam higher up from the river. Adam responded strangely; his body began to grow hot.

The man’s skin started to radiate a golden hue in contrast to its earlier tan tone and Macabre’s hands began to blister underneath the naked man. However, rather than dropping Adam, his instinct was to cede further into the cool waters. Macabre stumbled backward, tripping head over heels into the midst of the river—and Adam followed suit.

            Macabre sputtered and pushed himself above the water—it now swirled around his chest, not quite to his neck. His arms were empty, and his clothes wet. He spun wildly in the middle of the river.

            “Adam! Adam!”

            “Here I am.”

            The professor spun, wet strands of greyish hair flinging themselves across his face. Adam stood beside Macabre—quite relaxed, the smile still ingrained in his features. Macabre scanned him for peculiarities—which were of course difficult to separate from his very existence—but there were none to be found. Even the wound had disappeared—not a trace in the water to give it away.  

            Nonetheless, Macabre felt some burden for the clay man. He drew near and placed his hand squarely on the man’s back. He had meant to support Adam—but by all appearances it seemed the other way around.

            The waters seemed to calm too—the steady stream embracing both men in the middle of its currents. In fact, the river seemed to disregard the notion that the pair had any sort of diversion to its flow entirely. The river seemed to flow right through them, at least in a sense.

            “Are you alright?” Adam asked.

Macabre wiped his wet face with a wet hand.

            “Quite.”

Adam seemed perfectly fine, better even than when the professor had first seen him—obviously the removal of the bullet seemed to help. Macabre—no, Michael—laughed aloud. Here I am, standing in the river with a naked man in the dead of the night. Adam smiled pleasantly, as though he knew the hilarity of the thoughts tracing Michael’s mind.

“I must admit, Adam. I have many questions.”

“I suspected no less… but my time with you is short. This night will not last forever, and there are far more things to take place. Allow me to say some things, that I might at least quiet some of the buzz in that mind of yours.”

“This is related to that tree, isn’t it?” Macabre eyed Adam with a suspicious curiosity.

“Isn’t it all, Michael?”

Michael Macabre did not respond; he merely stared, his hand no longer supporting Adam’s back. He listened.

“You were told of others. You must not worry—I am of course one of these others, but I do not serve the sort of role you fear. I am merely a gatekeeper of sorts. You have of course recognized our similitudes and differences—there are many parts pulling you towards me and away from me—you must decide which way you will turn. You stand at the gate; I am here to usher you in. Likewise, I offer you the key—from here forward you control your path, Michael.”

Without saying another word, Adam began to sink into the river. He not only sank but began to dissolve into a cloudy tan, changing the color of the water. Particles of dust began swirling around Macabre and then downstream.

His eyes widened in horror. He kicked away from Adam’s disintegrating corpse—not daring to look back—and moved towards the shore. Naturally, he could not flee—his legs churned uselessly in the rushing water. His arm had gone limp.

“No! Damn you! No!”

The creek surged with water; a gush rushed downstream towards Macabre. It was as though a veil of water had been broken and the wall now crashed toward him. Macabre looked back at this limp left arm. It floated casually above the water as it could, the rest of it tethered by tree branch to the river bottom that had moments ago held Adam. Macabre thrashed against his arm—were he a stronger man he might have been able to tear himself free (whether from river bottom or arm it is unclear). The river raged towards Macabre. He gasped a large breath as the wall of water hit him. His arm came loose.

Everything else went dark.

IV

A Problematic Acorn

Macabre awoke submerged beneath water. Lights danced above him, although the professor lacked confidence of direction. Indeed, his sensibilities only extended to the vague recognition that lights do not dwell at the bottom of deep waters, at least in most circumstances. Of course, I must remember the Angler fish, known to lure its victim towards its enticing light in the depths of the ocean.

This momentary system of conscious negotiations and reasonings took place between early chokings on water and sporadic, flailing strokes toward the surface. All together, Macabre did not in fact seem to second guess the light at all—for fear of death—should he dare to do anything other than peddle towards the light.

Frantic claws full of water pushed the old man toward the light, and as the professor neared the surface, he felt himself being pulled from the water—not as though by the hands or limbs of something, but rather by a familiar and binding force of which Macabre had a matter-of-fact assurance from over the years. Gravity.

The water made a sucking, swirling sound as Macabre was pulled free of the surface and began to fall—fall—out of the surface of water and into the light. He hit the ground with a solid slap and laid there groaning. He could not have fallen far.

How could I have fallen at all?

            He was drenched in water, but there was none to be found around him. He lay in a meadow, the dry feathery grass towering above his laid-out form. The sky was full of stars above him. Pale purple, yellow, and white wildflowers dotted themselves along the clearing. They popped up in clumps at odd angles in bursts of passion and ingenuity. Macabre sat up with an equally potent lack of ingenuity and passion that betrayed his confusion and weariness.

            He looked around. The sky was clear; few strati swirled high above the meadow, but so faint were their shadows that the stars were merely blanketed in the wispiness with a sort of cosmic froth. The professor’s eyes shone with the light of the brightest star—a planet, rather—for although most proficient in botanical and floral sciences, Macabre made it his habit to know all the sciences well. He was bedfellows with them all. The planet shone bright and white, with a pale orange shade tracing its corners.

            Clothed in fire.

            Macabre looked around as though searching for the origin of the thought. His gaze returned to Mercury. Then it dropped to his own clenched hand. He stared at it. The hand, white as slate from its endeavor. He examined it closer, willing his fingers to open. Slowly, they obeyed.

            In his hand, he held an acorn.

            Wonderful.

            “I am glad to see I have my wits to cling to the most important things, even now.” He clicked his tongue indignantly and tipped his hand over slowly. The acorn fell to the meadow floor and landing lightly, rolled slightly. Then it stood still. Macabre could not remove his eyes from it—try as he might.

            There was nothing intriguing, beautiful, or exciting about the acorn. It was an acorn. It lacked anything that would distinguish it from any other acorn a botanist professor might notice while strolling the campus greens strewn with them. It was unoriginal. Yet, he watched it. Frustrated with himself, he reached for the acorn. Then thinking better of it, he slapped his own hand and taking the perpetrating hand, turned his head by force away from it. He sealed his decision by promptly taking a step away from it altogether.

            The night was still dark, but the clear starry sky allowed Macabre far more vision than the previously crowded canopy of the forest. He scanned the distant trees and a new puzzle flitted into his mind. These trees were largely willow. All around him in fact. The forest seemed to be comprised entirely of willow trees.

            This fact confused Macabre for numerous reasons. The unlikelihood of willow trees forming such an arrangement, the lack of recorded willow forests local to himself or at all natural to occur in any region known to man, the seemingly light blue wisps in place of the familiarly golden-green ones, but most strange—the fact that the trees around him, the canopy jutting all around him—bore no resemblance to the forest he knew himself lost in moments ago, when his car crashed and everything around him bent.

            I am somewhere new.

            Turning, startled, the professor searched for old familiarity. Reassurance. But the acorn was gone, leaving only a mostly invisible dent in the meadow where it had lain a moment ago. A twisted blade of grass pointed accusingly at Macabre. His eyes widened. His hand tensed and he looked down in disbelief. His left hand was already, unconsciously closefisted.

            He opened his palm tentatively. Moving unassumingly with the motion, the acorn settled in the pale palm of the professor. He stared at it again. A new sense of comfort was drawn out of him by its simple, familiar presence. His right came forward with a tentative stroke from his pointer finger. Michael Macabre sighed. There was nothing complex or overdrawn about it; it was beautiful. For a long time, the man did not take his eyes from the acorn, and for a long time he was content. Tears leaked out of his eyes and ran along his gaunt face and neckline before disappearing into his disheveled shirt collar.

            Eventually, the professor regained his composure, clenched the nut in his fist, and placed it squarely in his waistcoat pocket. His fingers loosened slowly, as though winched open begrudgingly, and removed the pipe still laying within the pocket—so as to decrease the volume occupied. Shaky fingers brought the pipe to his lips and proceeded to offer a loose pinch of snuff for its bowl. Short exhalations puffed through the pipe, ensuring he had filled it to satisfaction. Then his right hand wandered his waistcoat, searching for a lighter.

            The result was a dented bronze lighter gifted to Macabre by the dean of the university on account of his tenure. It was standard practice, and it was engraved with the school’s crest—an owl perched among bramble, its head twisted backwards away from the thorns looking forward.

            Macabre flicked open the lighter habitually and brought it near the pipe. He struck the steel—kisch.

            Sparks flew but failed to grow. He continued the ritual. Kisch, kisch, kisch. A flurry of orange showered downward, but quickly extinguished with each stroke of the lighter. He drew back the steel back lightly, then plied forward again.

            Kisch!

            The sparks began, but this time caught the oil and began to flicker with flame. He cupped his hands around the pipe and allowed the flame to catch on the snuff. Dull vapor began to spill from the bowl and the scent of lavender permeated the air.

            The professor puffed deeply on the pipe. The spiced tobacco flickered in his lung—it stung a bit—and soon offered the peace of mind he hoped to regain. His mind began to unwrap itself; his shoulders slackened and, puffing the pipe casually, his good-naturedness seemed to return.

            I suppose I shall now embark on some journey home, from wherever this illusion strands me. He yawned with a slight smile. Clearly, this is all some sort of illusion. Some joke or fever dream that merely inhabits my perception with bright clarity.

            He returned his left hand to his waistcoat pocket and reproduced the acorn in his grip. Two firm fingers sandwiched it between them as his eyes grazed across its surface.

            Bright clarity indeed. He could see the striations and textures of the nut; his taste and smell embraced the rich smoke coming from his pipe. Even the floral comfort of the tobacco did not allow his mind to betray him. I have no idea where I am.

The pipe slipped to his free palm, a thin vapor trailing from the bowl of it and lingering around his mouth. Macabre blew a slight puff, his eyes never leaving the acorn. The vapor flickered then dissipated. He continued to puff away leisurely, delighting himself with that moment. Eventually, this too became taxing, and he held the smoldering snuff away from himself, watching the pale vapor dance on the moonlight.

            Further along the meadow, he saw another vapor dancing. A pale luminescence bobbed up and down as a dull mauve flame—no larger than a fist. It milled near the tree line in the shadow of a blue willow’s canopy. The light was steady while the flame itself hardly changed in size. Instead, it pulsated with life—its outline twinkled and flickered. Macabre’s dim eyes watched the flame tentatively.

            It did not move closer.

            He stepped toward it, forgetting the pipe in hand and stowing the acorn carefully in his waistcoat once again. As he did, the light purple orb retreated with a slight hum and a backwards bob. It was aggressive—frightened… no, it was excited.

            The professor thought to hesitate but knew not why. He stepped forward and walked towards the lavender flame a few steps further. The flame, as he grew fond of thinking of it, retreated again still further into a footpath through the tree line—only far enough to remain seen—entreating him to follow—or so he gathered.

            He pressed forward, and the process continued. Always moving, the two of them. A pale specter and a flickering light. Soon Michael found himself chasing hurriedly after the flame, his fatigue seemingly forgotten. A sense of youthful exuberance bound upon himself and that thing of mystery. He delighted in the chase. Michael brushed aside ferns and wafts of willow leaves, their blue silhouettes floating gleefully at the touch. The ground underfoot was soft and largely a lush swath of dark mossy greens and pale blues. He continued the chase, giving his rigid curiosities the sense that he was altogether unworried or at least uninterested in the foliage and landscape, wholly redefining his understanding of his own study. This was naturally not the case, as normally, Macabre simply pursued his greatest curiosity foremost, unwilling to relent until he knew it better.

            The light twinkled ahead of him, leading him steadily through the willow grove for miles upon miles. He did not seem to get weary, although his sensibilities began to question him more severely. I must not forget Adam. He warned me. This thing can only be thought of as intelligent. How else to explain what little I understand of this light?

            Indeed, while intelligence is not a physical attribute, it is perceivable in many of the minute interactions people experience between one another and sometimes even other forms. Yes, I must not forget Adam’s warning. Macabre’s pace slowed, his eyes wandered, and he began to recognize that he had indeed passed through most of the grove all together and was being led towards a marsh.

            The marsh was well hidden, its surface seemingly solid and similar to that of the undergrowth. The largest distinction was the thick strands of moss that sweated with humidity all along the trees nearest to and sprouting from it. The willows went from blue topped to blue bodied, and Macabre smelled a foul stench. Sulfur.

            Of course. The professor stopped, suddenly overwhelmed with trepidation. This flame is no spirit. It is a flame of the bog. Fueled by the gas and moving only because I move the air near it, extinguishing and moving its own fuel. The professor chided his own haughtiness. This wisp could have meant a choking sputtering mouthful of mud and water. Death.

            “I’m afraid you can’t kill a professor of botany so easily,” Macabre scoffed aloud. “Almost, admittedly—this strange atmosphere had left me quite confounded, but now I am quite recentered on truth.”

            “Who?”

            The professor twirled on his feet to face the intruding voice. Perched high in a nearby willow, a horned owl looked wide-eyed and steadily at the professor. It was not alien as most of the forest seemed. Only its feathers wore a darker shade than he recalled as typical. So dark in fact it seemed to absorb some of the blue and reflect shards of this pale color out along its silhouette. Its eyes were wholly white. It stared deeply at the professor; its head spun back over its shoulder with a slight tilt—in an effort to best spy the stranger more easily.

            The professor stared a moment; he was struck deeply by its attentiveness. Of course. Why had he not thought of it sooner? What creature was wiser and more intelligent than the owl? Slowly, the professor stepped forward and produced the acorn from his pocket, turning his back to the bog and facing the owl fully.

            The acorn was wrong. It looked misplaced and false. Not to Macabre of course, but the owl, spinning its body toward it and focusing its gaze upon it knew it was not of this forest. Its white eyes traced the shape—locking firmly onto the nut.

            Macabre waited patiently. Finally, he was getting somewhere. With somber humility, he dared to address the figurehead of wisdom. “If you could please help me return home, I would be most indebted to you. I know little of this place, and even less of my part in it. Please, help me.”

            The owl looked back to Macabre, its head tilting yet again in comprehension. It bowed forward slightly, then clicked its beak sharply several times. Then, it spoke:

            “Who?”

            Macabre thought it was joking. He looked incredulously at the owl and his mind could not find the proper words to air his grievances with this beast. Before he had chosen between the two sharpest of his retorts, the horned beast dropped from its perch and swooped sharply down upon him.

            Macabre flung his hands up, covering his face and cowering away from the attack, but he was not struck. Instead, the owl stole away the acorn with a sharp talon clasp around it and flapped steadily away, retreating into the forest.

            The professor’s hands grasped frantically into the air for his only anchor home. He was too late and too slow. Fistfuls of air were released with flagrant anger and suddenly the professor was running again. The forest thrashed upon his sides with stiff branches and rough ground. He stumbled along the pathway, searching frantically for the owl.

            The bird was visible in flashes just above the canopy of willow. It flapped its wings gregariously and clutched the acorn tightly in its own grasp. Macabre followed it through the willow, struggling to track its flight while zigzagging around trees and undergrowth crowding the forest floor. His breaths were quickly becoming labored and sour. His legs, heavy as his blood and tissue, became hot like lead and pulled him closer to earth at every moment. There was a break in the forest, another meadow, and he dashed hurriedly after the bird—pushing through the ardors with disapproval. His gaze fixed upon the acorn in the clutches of that betrayer. He saw his chance. Ahead the bird seemed to circle and drop; it swooped lower and disappeared behind a close-knit grouping of willows near at hand. The professor thrust himself forward violently, hopping over tree roots and bushes to squeeze quickly beyond the wall of willow obscuring the thief.

            He pressed through and lost hold of the tree.

He fell.

And he continued to fall, chasing the bird that clutched the world as he knew it, directly over a steep outcrop from the valley that dropped suddenly. As he fell, he spied the owl coming to rest well above him now in one of the trees he had thrown himself through so readily.

Professor Macabre hit the ground with a crunch of shoulder and arm and a resounding cry of pain that further shattered his strength and knocked the wind from him. He looked up to see the owl again in flight, disappearing from where he had moments ago fallen. Then his vision became black and rigid and disappeared into a murky grotto altogether.

V

Worms

Twisted tangles of limbs sat rooted to the muddy forest floor. The ground was sticky with the moisture of rain and sap: blood and water. Macabre was dead.

            Near to the body sat a thin veiled wisp—the professor—staring. It was the professor in a wholly different yet wholly unchanged sense—as is often the case with bodiless mortals. Therefore, the wisp stared in its flesh-fashioned shape at the dead man. It was no longer Macabre, yet the keen-eyed reader might discern—should they dare to trace the likeness—great similitudes between the shape of the corpse and the thin wisp of the professor.

            The wisp sat in the bloodied mud—not above such things but muddled within it. It hunched forward, unblinking, glassy-eyed, staring, lost. The rain began to thicken the mud. Blood-dusted water—churning into Noah’s muddy bane.

Raindrops spattered across Macabre’s face and cheeks as his corpse lay twisted awkwardly, messily motionless in a pool of mud and moss.

The vapor did not stare at the body; it had done so for long enough. Instead, face held low in lap-bent hands—it moaned—loud enough to be heard above the pattering raindrops all around him, but only just.

Worms began to rise from the churning mud and squirmed through the dirt, basking in the luxurious weave of earth and water. They churned the dirt and specter. At first these worms seemed quite ordinary; Macabre may have found some comfort in them, but they too were unlike the worms he had known. Fleshy gray with hook-pointed noses, they snaked forward like long-pried nails. There was something to the worms. Something sinister—yet totally natural. Violent and virulent. Macabre would have no comfort in them at all; but they would have their comfort with him. Him being now departed.

Strangeness worked itself into these worms and soon they were twisting forward, wrestling one another towards the oozing center. Gone were their playful, rain-fallen clamberings. With purpose they pushed each other aside and worked their hooked scalps forward. Mud and man, worm and water, they burrowed into each cavity. The thrashing worms did not settle until each had found its hearth in Macabre’s corpse.

Bespeckled and writhing, the corpse dripped with fresh holes and squirming appendage. Macabre was looking much more than himself: man and worm. This had a due effect on the wisp—breaking his dis-concentration and dragging him back to horrible ponderances—it twitched and shook as though itself riveted with the hideous hook worms. Yet, the wisp did not move; it stayed in the mud.

The worm-holed man twisted once violently, then collapsed. The wisp looked on; its gaze fastened surely. Slowly, the abomination twisted and began to push itself up from the mud. Hunchbacked and oozing, Macabre’s worm-eyed face lifted to spy the feint quivering vapor. It rose, twisted and incorrect. Worms suspending unfused muscle and balancing meager flesh between twisted backwards bones and grey wriggling appendages. Two pale eyes gazed through the wisp—not the eyes the professor knew, but a dead gaze, ravaged by cold.

“Hello, worm,” the mud-man said, oozing out the words.

Fairy Wood

By Mary Beth Barrett

Dear reader, some say that the world is full of magic; the trouble is finding it. Some will tell you that you must stay on the lookout for the surreal, the fey, and the magical, yet it just isn’t so. If it were, every fanciful person would be up to their ears in magical critters. No, the key is that the magic must find you.

Those instances are few and far between, though. We should be grateful that they are. All too often, magical interactions lead to tragedy. Sure, some are harmless and innocent. But alas, magic is not nearly as charming as many would like to believe. It is unknown, and it is dangerous. Unfortunately, it is usually those who are the least suspecting who are caught in its clutches. Take, for instance, the story of young Constance Whipple.

It happened in early summer, many years ago, just outside of Whipple Manor. The sun shimmered down on the estate. The lawns were lush, with well-tended flowerbeds edging them. The tulips lay in tidy rows, popping with yellow and pink. However, this story did not take place on the orderly grounds. It occurred within the woods on the west side of the estate.

There, the trees grew tall. Ivy clambered up the oak and maple trunks. Clover and moss covered the forest floor. Flowers budded in wild brilliance. It was a rather jumbled place for being so close to a grand house, but you cannot always entrap nature in a neat box. Nonetheless, if you had looked past the mayhem, you would have seen something quite marvelous.

Deep within this wild wood ran a babbling stream. Its water was crystal clear and sparkling. If you were to follow the stream, you would eventually come to a pool surrounded by whispering willows. Smooth, white pebbles lay on the pool floor, giving the water a brilliant brightness. Next to the pool were large stones, covered in plush moss. Flowers of every imaginable shape, color, and size flourished. Full hydrangeas towered over marigolds, while climbing sweet peas rose around lilac branches. Hundreds of other plants grew and bloomed. A botanist would say that this assortment could not possibly coexist in the same space. They would say that their natural habitats were too diverse. Of course, science also says that this strange place could never contain magic. Therefore, it would be best to ignore the ‘informed’. In all actuality, magic flocked to this special place, as it does to everywhere untouched by humanity. That is, it was untouched by all but Constance Whipple on that fateful day.

…

Constance was a small thing, even for her age, and curious too. The six-year-old had little interest in children her own age. In fact, she had little interest in anyone. She preferred to spend hours and hours outside. She would skip clumsily in her pink ballet slippers, with her dress flouncing around her knees. That dress was always sure to be dirty by evening. She would kneel in the flowerbeds, staring intently at the tiny critters in the dirt. She would watch worms swim in puddles during the rain, ants march unceasingly to their hills, and butterflies dance from blossom to blossom with their dainty proboscises drinking delectable nectar. She would also climb high in the cherry trees of the estate. There, she could see the birds skipping through the air on their wings. The swallows dove and danced. The robins pecked and pranced. Every chickadee had a cheerful chirp.

Eventually, the more bashful of animals drew near. As Constance played quietly on the edge of the estate, shy creatures peeked from the forest. A timid rabbit would give a hop onto the lawn, before darting back into the brush. A doe would watch with somber, brown eyes. Constance saw them, and her greatest desire was to join them. However, they would never tread far onto the estate. It was too clean, too manicured, too human.

Constance knew this, so she decided to go to them. She would wander into the woods, never disturbing nature. There, the creatures were finally able to come to her. The rabbits bounced around her bumbling feet. Squirrels scurried in the branches overhead, providing a friendly chatter of conversation. The doe even brought her fawn, who took to Constance like a sister. Day in and day out, they would skip and frolic through the woods, with Mother Doe and Father Buck keeping careful watch over them.

Constance’s parents never noticed that their daughter was delving deeper and deeper into the forest outside their home. It is unlikely that they would have stopped her, however. They had come to terms with their child’s odd ways and decided to let her do as she pleased. Consequently, further and further Constance pilgrimaged from Whipple Manor. She trailed after her furry friends, burrowing into the leafy habitat. They presented her with all the wonders the woods had to offer. They took her to the sparkling river, which enchanted her. It burbled and hummed. Some might even say it sang to her. In the late nights, when Constance was tucked safely at home, she could be heard singing a trickling tune to herself.

Albeit, water is a fickle entity. Any sailor will tell you so. Some days, the sea is peaceful and serene. On others, it thrashes and destroys. All bodies of water have this temperament. While the river was interested in young, innocent Constance, it still had a wild streak. One day, it begged and pleaded with her to follow it. At first, Constance hesitated. It was farther from home than she had ever been. Despite this, the river insisted that the most spectacular place awaited them. Mother Doe nudged the girl to stay. Her fawn bleated mournfully. Constance had already made up her mind. The river called to her, and she wanted to answer.

Down and around the river wound, with Constance skipping along. The farther they went, the quieter everything became. The airy silence blanketed them. As the silence grew thicker, so did the forest. The trees were larger and older. Delicate vines curled up their trunks and dangled from their lofty branches. The moss formed a thick carpet. Flowers crowded and bloomed in impossible variety and lavishness. It was brighter, more colorful, and more real. Then, the river washed into a still, silent pool.

Constance stood motionless at its mouth. It was so pristine, so pure, so perfect. Most people would feel out of place in a setting so precious. Constance, on the other hand, felt as if she belonged there, for she was also precious, pristine, and pure. To her, it was like finally coming home.

S he knelt at the edge of the pool on the soft moss, with the scent of wildflowers in her nose. She peered into the water. A perfect reflection stared back at her. Her reflection was not the only thing watching, though. If one looked carefully at this scene, they would see flashes, flutters, and miniscule bursts of color throughout the willow trees surrounding the pool. They started on the outermost brink, then danced closer. A swirl here, a rustle there. Soon, a tiny spark burst from the branches and floated down. It hovered a few feet above Constance’s curls. It stopped, fascinated by the girl below. She was new and unusual. It floated down a few more inches.

Constance caught sight of its reflection in the pool below. She tilted her head, considering it. It was small, only a few inches tall. Yet, it was easily the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. It had delicate, translucent wings that fluttered faster than a hummingbird’s. Its petite figure was clad in pink rose petals. She smiled shyly at it, through the pool’s reflection. The fairy darted closer. It stretched out a tiny hand and stroked one of Constance’s thick curls. It cooed in delight and settled itself atop her head. It chittered upwards, calling its friends.

A swarm of fairies alighted from the treetops. They circled down in a colorful whirlwind. Bright reds, soft pinks, sunny yellows, and warm greens. They swirled down in their floral clothing. Constance gazed at them with her large, deep eyes. They regarded her carefully. One by one, they flitted close: tugging at her lacy sleeves, stroking her hair, settling on her shoulders, even swooping to place a kiss on her soft cheeks.

…

Dear reader, let us take a brief repose from this lovely, placid scene. It is important that you know a few things about fairies and magic. First of all, magical creatures are not people. They resemble miniature humans with wings and possess some similarities to humankind. They are intelligent. They have language, culture, and personalities. However, that is as far as the correlation goes.

Fairies are, in fact, rather horrid creatures. They are beautiful—it is true. However, think upon the bright light of a lamp. Its beauty attracts the unsuspecting moth, who is scorched by its heat. Likewise, the spectacular beauty of magic often masks a dark nature. That is, fairies have no souls. They maintain no sense of right or wrong. Where there should be a conscience lies an empty hole. They try to fill this with pleasure, fun, pride, and mischief. Moreover, when they want something, nothing will dissuade them. If only our dear, little Constance knew that fact.

…

Alas, instead, she sat completely enraptured with the fairies, ignorant of their foul nature. She danced with them fluttering around her and tried to mimic their chirping song. Whatever she did pleased the fairies. She was keener, more fun, and more patient than all the wild creatures in the forest. She was new and exotic.

The hours passed quickly for them, yet dusk still came. The sky dimmed. Constance looked up, realization dawning. Night was coming, and she needed to return home. Loathe as she was to leave her new companions, she feared spending the night in the forest. Yes, it was full of wonder, but it was still wild. Not every creature was her friend.

She rose to her feet and dusted off her pink dress. The fairies twittered merrily. One wearing purple tulip petals gave a pirouette, encouraging Constance to dance. Constance gave a sad smile and shook her head. The fairy made a sour face and gave her arm a sharp pinch. Constance yelped in surprise. The fairy flew angrily towards a small cluster of others. It chattered viciously. Constance began to move out of the pool’s clearing. However, she did not get far. The purple fairy returned and grabbed Constance’s hair.

Constance gently brushed a hand through her tresses, harmlessly shooing away the fairy. It attacked with new vigor, pulling hard and shrieking at its friends. The others zoomed closer. One tinkled a little song and waited expectantly for Constance’s response. Another pulled at the lacy trim of her skirt, gesturing for her to return to the pool. Constance just shook her head. She couldn’t stay.

The tulip fairy shrieked to its companions, giving another savage tug on her hair. The swarm of fairies chattered to each other for a second. Then, they seemingly decided that they would not lose their new playmate. Each dove towards Constance and grabbed hold. Some attached themselves to her hair. Others grabbed fistfuls of skirt to pull. Still more just flew around, giving potent pinches or gnashing their pearly teeth at her.

They pushed her back towards the pool, which had begun to bubble and froth hungrily, agitated by the fairies’ anger. Constance tried to escape. She tried to brush the fairies away. However, her heart was too soft and gentle to actually hurt them, so they only came back with greater vengeance. Step by step, she was forced backwards, until her heels almost touched the pool. It reached its watery fingers up to grab and swallow her. The fairies chattered eagerly, encouraging the pool. Soon, young Constance Whipple would lie in a liquid grave, surrounded by what she had supposed were her friends.

...

Fate had other plans. While Constance had followed the treacherous river to the fairies, Mother Doe had run off in search of help, for she was old and wise. She knew exactly what lay at the end of that river. She wasted no time after her failed attempt to persuade Constance to stay away. She bounded through the forest, her fawn bouncing behind her. Over the brush and under the branches they flew, until they came to the sheltered furrow that they called home. There, they found Father Buck. Seeing his family’s distress, he charged toward the pool. He had often watched Constance frolic with his fawn and knew that she was not like other humans. Her heart was soft and generous.

Later, when poor Constance was within a millimeter of her demise, Father Buck burst in all his glory into the enchanted clearing. He was a sight to behold. His antlers shone in the fading sunlight. He was large and stately, standing as tall as a man with a velvet coat of majestic brown. He gave a single grunt, then dove toward the pool, kicking and tossing his antlers.

The pool, old enough to know the fury of a mighty buck like this one, immediately withdrew into a placid state. It had no desire to meet his sharp hooves and horns. The fairies, however, were less quick-witted. They made the mistake of moving from Constance to buzzing around Father Buck, who lashed out against them. (Fear not, dear reader. Father Buck will be fine. No fairies, even banded together, can harm a powerful deer like him.)

Meanwhile, Constance ran with tears in her eyes. She ran away from the pool, away from the clearing, away from the river. For the first time in her life, the forest was not where she wanted to be.

Mother Doe watched sadly from the trees. Constance would return to the forest again. She was sure of that. Her heart and soul were with nature. However, it would be different. She would be a little wary, a little afraid, a little more human. Until then, she would find refuge in the safety of Whipple Manor.