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The approaching tragedy pulls us; like ants to a flame, we are drawn… We arrive to a smoky summer day in Southern California, with the temperature hovering around the mid seventies. The air is redolent with the smells of eucalyptus trees and orange blossoms. Mixed with these obvious good smells, are background smells which aren’t so good … smells which are obviously part of this haze that surrounds us and touches everything. It is August of 1961. We, the watchers, are in the back yard of a small, light-green, two bedroom, one bath, and 800 square foot starter-house. It is a typical lazy Monday morning, mostly quiet with husbands away at work, and their wives busily working on their chores. You can hear the occasional car and truck go by out front, but the sound is muffled, like it is on the other end of a long tunnel. A huge walnut tree with mighty branches that reach out to cover almost the entire back yard, and easily stands 100 feet tall is the centerpiece to this serene scene. Underneath the full-sun-blocking branches of the walnut is a large wooden picnic table, where two boys sit; one is three years old, and the other just under two. Both boys are similarly dressed: swimming trunks, T-shirts, and barefoot. They both have short blond hair, and hazel eyes like their Dad. They have the charm shared by young boys everywhere; they project purity and innocence, and have probably gathered here to talk about toys, or swimming pools, or maybe forts they can build where they can fight off imaginary Indians. The older boy suddenly hops up and walks quickly to a large homemade brick barbecue grill twenty feet away, to retrieve something we can’t quite see. We move in closer to get a better look at this object and see that i... ... middle of paper ... ... the car is eerily quiet, except for a soft and mournful tune coming from the radio; Crazy by Patsy Cline. In the back seat Mike sits and broods. He knows he is very sick, but he is very angry too. Mike is obsessed with the idea that his brother got to go to the hospital in an ambulance. That he got to travel in style, with the siren on. On the other hand, he has to make the same trip in a car…a dull and drab (and quiet), car. Nobody will look at him as he speeds by. He doesn’t even get to hear a siren like riding in an ambulance. Mike thinks of his brother a lot. He always has, but not in the way you might think. His thoughts are darker and more sinister than any three-year-old has any business thinking. He does not feel sorry for Ger, as he seems incapable of that emotion. Mike’s thoughts are much more primitive and basic, “How do I kill him next time?”
The setting takes place in April at a funeral. There was a “gardenia on the smooth brown wood” (Holczer 1). They have been “wandering across the great state of California” (2). The setting moves to Grace's grandma’s house. It was “two stories with attic windows”, “sky-blue paint with white trim”, “ and a wood porch” (19). There were “two chairs covered in yellowed plastic and pine needles” (19). There was a gently sloped driveway. Inside the house there were “piles of Tupperware and glass dishes” (19). Outside there was a shed, garden, trees, and
Filban said the home had a yard that was overgrown. “The trees and bushes were overgrown, and the house was dark,” Filban said. “And the windows were covered.” She and her sister slept in the front bedroom of the house. She remembers the bedroom having a large, floor-to-ceiling window. She said you could look out and see the wra...
...was a desperate act of a lonely, insane woman who could not bear to loose him. The structure of this story, however, is such that the important details are delivered in almost random order, without a clear road map that connects events. The ending comes as a morbid shock, until a second reading of the story reveals the carefully hidden details that foreshadow the logical conclusion.
Durango Street is a novel by Frank Bonham. He writes about a young boy who lives in an extremely bad neighborhood. His name is Rufus Henry. Rufus was in a correctional camp for stealing a car. In the camp he met a friend named Baby. Baby lived where Rufus's mother had moved. Baby got released a little bit before Rufus and then went on to his home "the flats." Rufus was left out from camp with a parol officer. His parole officer tells him not to get involved with gangs but Rufus knows he has to join a gang to survive. He runs into one of the local gangs The Gassers, and gets into a little fight with them and the leader Simon Jones. He gets away in good condition, but knows that The Gassers are goin to be looking for him. So he finds his friend Baby and joins the gang The Moors. Rufus gets beat up into the gang, and soon after takes over. He beats up the leader Bantu. Rufus the takes contorl of the gang. The rival gang knows about this, and then beats up Rufus's little sister. Rufus then gets back at them and beats up the gang and blows up there car. He then meets up with a man named Alex Robbins. The man is a social worker who "sponsors" or helps gangs. They have meetings every week and talk about The Gassers and ideas they have. Alex suggests to go to the local football team (TheMaurders) and watch them train. Little did Alex know is that Rufus has an obsession with their star running back Ernie Brown. Ernie is actually Rufus's father, but no-one knows except Rufus and his mother. Simon Jones steals Rufus's book of Ernie Brown that he keeps in secret and in provate. Simon then reads it in front of everyone how Ernie is really Rufus's father. This makes things with the gangs very hostile. The Moors then meet these two girls named Nonie and Jannet. They talk with the gang and convince them to throw a graduation dance. The gang rounds up some money and has the dance. The Gassers try to ruin it by setting off smoke bombs in the ventalation systems, but the dance is not spoiled but turned out great. After the dance Rufus and Alex talk about Rufus going back to school, and they end off with a nice smile.
The author then looks back upon the time in his life when her mother decided to drive Hunter Jordan’s old car. However, she didn’t know how to drive, and was generally afraid to get behind the wheel. On that day, she drove crazily on the road, and declared to never drive again. James McBride also reflected on his life up to a teenager, who knew that bad things would occur in the not too distant future if he didn’t change his ways and behavior.
In the beginning the narrator concentrates on a typo on the hospital menu saying “…They mean, I think, that the pot roast tonight will be served with buttered noodles. But what it says…is that the pot roast will be severed…not a word you want to see after flipping your car twice…” (Hempel 53) as if he’s trying to keep his mind off of everything. Nevertheless, the narrator continues on to speak regarding his memory, the realization of eventual death, and the duality of experience. Although from time to time, as a coping mechanism, he restrains himself from getting too serious—by means of making jokes on the surface—he finds himself plunging into deeper meaning.
The couple, Mel states, was driving down the interstate when an intoxicated nineteen-year-old “plowed his dad’s pickup truck” into the couple’s camper (146). Though the driver was pronounced dead on arrival, the couple survived. They were, however, in critical condition. During their recovery, Mel states, the man was depressed even after learning that his wife was safe.
Her ability to use incredibly graphic details poetically just enhance the experience for the reader. Her car ride is a solemn one, and readers are introduced to the disturbances inside of the car as well as outside. Olds is able to express to readers the issues her father has with drinking while associating it to the death outside of the car as well. She is able to bring readers into the dark car with her, witnessing the wreckage, the cars strewn over the highway, and most importantly the body of the woman. While the accident wasn’t any fault of the car she is riding in, she is up front with readers how her father is not quite sober, and just missed hitting someone himself. Olds is able to use the graphic imagery of the accident and the somber interior of the car to express the family struggles she endured as well. Sheltered by her mother from the scene outside, she is left reflecting on the life that is represented on the road. Readers can feel the dark turn of her thoughts as she compares the carnage on the road as “…glass, bone, metal, flesh, and the family” (Olds). It is this ending in which Olds allows readers to understand the complexity of feelings that were associated with the accident on the dark rain covered highway. Reflecting on the
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
Our narrator, Fuckhead, is a drug addict who is waiting by the side of the road for someone to pick him up. He gets in three cars through his journey which is an indispensable number not to mention and not to look at. Also, the way he experiences the last car is a focus point in the story.
Mitchell Stephens plays on our emotions in so many different ways in this novel. At first Stephens comes in almost like a hero, trying to find justice for these hurting people in the small town of. Stephens causes our perspective to change with his statement that “ there are no accidents. I don’t even know what the word means, and I never trust anyone who says he does.” “Someone must be to blame.”
Suffering from the death of a close friend, the boy tries to ignore his feelings and jokes on his sister. His friend was a mental patient who threw himself off a building. Being really young and unable to cope with this tragedy, the boy jokes to his sister about the bridge collapsing. "The mention of the suicide and of the bridge collapsing set a depressing tone for the rest of the story" (Baker 170). Arguments about Raisinettes force the father to settle it by saying, "you will both spoil your lunch." As their day continues, their arguments become more serious and present concern for the father who is trying to understand his children better. In complete agreement with Justin Oeltzes’ paper, "A Sad Story," I also feel that this dark foreshadowing of time to come is an indication of the author’s direct intention to write a sad story.
“Car Crash While Hitchhiking” and “Work” both follow the stream of consciousness of the narrator, which shows the influence of drug on people’s mentality. Both stories are confusing with the narrator moving around the time and place; it seems as if the narrator is talking about whatever comes into his mind without specific plot or message. In “Car Crash While Hitchhiking,” the narrator talks about the family that picked him up, and suddenly switches to the story of him and salesman by saying “…But before any of this, that afternoon, the salesman and I …” (4) In “Work,” narrator says “And then came one of those moments,” (52) when he recalls a memory about his wife while talking about Wayne. Both stories shift abruptly without proper conjunction. In everyday lives, people think of numerous things. However, what they say are limited, as they talk consistently with a specific purpose, considering factors such as time, place, and appropriateness before they speak. On the other ha...
...e still ponders this story when he is driving alone on the highway; he still “sees” them sometimes pulled off on the side of the road, which instigates guilt from his past (3858).
A guilty feeling surged through me as I snuck out of church early, but I could not wait any longer to show my friend, Jonathan, my new Chevrolet Cavalier. As I raced out of the parking lot, I heard ambulance sirens in the distance, and I felt a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach as if butterflies were fluttering around trying to get out. I paid the feeling no mind as I merged onto the interstate at Gray and headed toward Johnson City. Little did I know those sirens would change my life forever.