The Summer's Harvest

                Eduardo had the experienced the most impactful week of his life. As the summer heat hit record highs this year, he and his grandmother had to tend the farm extremely cautiously this season. One wrong move and they could lose their entire year’s crop. Eduardo popped out his asthma inhaler and took a deep breath in it. His nosebleed from the wretched heat didn’t help with his allergies at all. Usually in harvest season, Eduardo had no responsibilities other than to feed and look after himself. It was always his grandmother and her sons that would take care of the harvest. But this year with the dreaded heat required more labour and Eduardo was forced to finally do his share of the work. He slugged himself over to the fields as he lazily picked out berries to eat. Ever since his parents left to the United States to find work, Eduardo lived a relatively sheltered life, with his grandmother providing him with all the food and drink he wanted. However this summer was the exception; all the food that was left had to be conserved and rationed. In fact the heat got so bad that the cow’s milk ended up spoiling which had made all the farm dogs sick. The smell of diarrhea was everywhere. Many days and many nights were spent keeping up with the harvest.

            On one cool night, as Eduardo was getting ready to pack up the beans he had harvested, he noticed a bear that had been rummaging the fields. Frightened to death, he gave a piercing shriek as he dropped his basket full of unprocessed beans. The bear instantly shot up and pounced after Eduardo. The men were unarmed and could not stop the brutal attacks by the beast. The bear cornered the men against the barn and savagely killed many and wounded many more. Eduardo had survived but with major claw marks across his swollen body.

            That was the last thing Eduardo had remembered when he woke up one afternoon in a hospital. The doctors informed him that his grandmother had passed away from a heart attack. He could not see any of his family members as many of them were also injured and were in other hospital rooms. Eduardo quickly gave a call to his parents and after explaining to them what had happened, they quickly arranged to come back to Mexico as soon as possible. But not before they broke the news to Eduardo; the doctor had told them that the baby was a boy! Smiling with some ease, Eduardo closed his eyes and ignored the fact that for the time being, he was all alone in Mexico. 

A Stranger's Love - Short Story by Bofeng Cheng

            The crumpling sound of leaves being stepped on entranced George as he made his way into the deep forest. As he headed further and further in, he was relieved that the sun had finally set. The last thing he wanted was to have someone look at him. George had spent many of the past nights not being able to fall asleep, making his face a ghastly sight. His blotchy red face and sagging dark eyes was something he did not want others to see. Not that it mattered of course, for it was going to be over soon. George needn’t be worried of things such as this. After all, nothing mattered to him anymore.

            

               When George found a clearing in the forest, he decided it was a decent enough place. A mediocre spot for a mediocre person, thought George as he gave himself a grim smile. George wasn’t a top student, nor was he athletic. Being the son of a divorced mother and father left him little to be proud about. He had never won any school contests and didn’t have anything special. His life was an epitome of the word mediocre.

    

    As far as George could remember, he was raised independently, with very little love or affection given to him from birth. Often times, George would be alone in his room as his parents would constantly fight or have somewhere important to go to. Ironically enough, because of his independent upbringing, George grew to be a dependent person. He depended on the approval of others as a way of feeling appreciated and meaningful. George became the class clown, trying to make others laugh even if it was at the expense of his dignity. So long as he made others happy, he felt meaningful. But as time progressed throughout his high school life, George felt less and less meaningful from the laughter he created. Unhappiness grew inside his heart like an expanding void of cold and darkness. Now it was inescapable. Not even in his sleep could he run away from this depression. It had been many years since he had nightmares, yet they were back again, chasing George inside his unconscious mind.

            

                George took a deep breath and sighed. The scent of fresh pinewood lingered in his nose as he breathed out warm foggy air. George shivered in the freezing cold winter night, although he had already felt this cold inside himself for months. He had contemplated for weeks on what to do. He was scared of the future, he didn’t want to grow up. George wanted to stay as a kid, but as he approached his final year of high school George had to look at the truth in the eye; he was going to become an adult whether he liked it or not. I’m just not ready, he thought as he encircled the forest clearing. The night was pitch black with a faint glimmer from the moon, allowing George to trace his footsteps along the clearing’s perimeter.

            

                He stopped and unzipped his jacket, bringing it out from his inside pocket. “Glock-18, semi-automatic 9 mm beauty”, his father would proudly say with a grin. “It’ll wipe the boots off anyone who tries to mess with me”. What a shame it would be to have his father realize that his own prized pistol ended his son. George traced his finger across the smooth metal finish. The exterior of the gun felt cold and ruthless. He held it out in front of his face and inspected the gun, turning it over and admiring the smooth edges. He was ready to see what was on the other side. 

            

                “What do you think you’re doing?”

            

                George stopped. Slowly turning around, he saw the silhouette of a man facing him underneath the moon light.

            

                “None of your business. This doesn’t concern you.”

                

                “Oh it absolutely does”, he replied.

            

                “Why so? Back off now, or I’ll shoot. I mean it.” George snarled at the man angrily.

            

                The man raised his hands up and calmly stepped forward towards George. As the man stepped in, George quickly backed off and continued to aim the gun at the unknown man.

            

                “Easy there son. We don’t want any accidents”. The man’s voice was soothingly calm, almost fatherly. George couldn’t stop his hand from shaking as he gripped onto the gun, from fear of what would happen and from the frosty night’s cold.

            

                “One more step and I’ll k-kill you” he stammered. The man continued walking towards him, hands raised in the air. With each step he took, the boy took a step back.

           

                “What do you want, why aren’t you leaving?” George demanded.

            

                “I want you to relax and put the gun down.” He replied simply.

            

                “What’s wrong with you? Don’t think I’m bluffing when I say I’ll shoot you.”

            

                “Do as you please”, the man said. “But I care about you, and I don’t want you to do this.” George stopped and squinted at the man. Was he being serious? How could someone say they cared for someone if they didn’t even know that person?

            

                “Yeah you definitely care about me.” George laughed darkly. “Just like how much my friends and family care”. There was silence. The man slowly lowered his hands and relaxed.

            

                 “Think about it. What kind of a person would risk their life to stop someone from shooting themselves, unless if it were because they cared about the person?” The man asked.

            

                 “A complete dumbass, I’ll tell you what.” George retorted.

            

                 “No. Because I know that if you pull the trigger on me, I’ll die. But if you pull the trigger on yourself, part of me will die with you as well. That’s why I’m willing to risk my life for you.”

            

                 “I can see two different men. One man gave up on life and chose the weak path; he chose to end it in order to escape his life. Another man chose to stay resilient and better himself and his life, regardless of how bad the situation is. I hope I’m talking to the latter person.”

           

     George closed his eyes. He raised up his arm and held the gun firmly. An audible click could be heard. George suddenly stopped shivering as he held the gun up. He stared into the barrel of the pistol and waited. The man calmly waited. It seemed as if the entire forest was waiting, waiting for the boy to end the silence.

            

                 Thud.

            

                 The man slowly picked up the gun, turned the safety switch on, and took out the clip of ammunition from the pistol. He handed the gun back to George.

            

                 “Thank you.” George said quietly.

            

                 “Just doing what’s right.” The man responded monotonously. He gave George a solemn salutation and turned around, his silhouette never failing to hide his identity. George stood there, watching as the stranger’s shadow got smaller and smaller under the glimmering moonlight. 

Review of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall

To get straight to the point, this play was well performed and I have to confess that this was the first play I've seen without getting too bored during the middle of it. On the night of October 15th 2015, our Creative Writing class got to go see Sarah Rodgers's The Tenant of Wildfell Hall originally written by Anne Brontë. This play takes place in the 19th century and is written to be a drama that incorporates ideas of feminism into the production. 

The story takes place in a quaint village where all the villagers know each other inside out. Helen Graham is a widowed mother who takes her son to move to the village and restart life there. Gilbert Markham (the protagonist) falls in love with Helen and throughout the play continues to ask Helen her hand in marriage, except Helen refuses and doesn't explain to Gilbert why she won't accept. Eventually, Helen gives Gilbert her diary and he is able to recollect Helen's past and understand why she has not accepted his hand. The story ends with Gilbert waiting over 2 years for Helen and they come together and reunite. 

Overall I'm quite impressed with Sarah Rodger's rendition of the novel, and the play was well executed with good timing; long enough to fully develop the plot line yet short enough where I don't fall asleep half-way. I thought that the intermission was very well timed and kept us interested for more as we came back into the theatre during the second half. The seats for the audience were a bit too cramped but weren't too bothersome. I think that all the actors and actresses performed excellently and the kid was just adorable. The story line was very strong and I liked Rodger's incorporation of Helen's individuality and her resistance to cultural norms and views to women and children. My friends and I had a good time watching the play, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. That play was a $5 well spent in my opinion.