Opus

Wayland Middle School's Literary Magazine

Super Speed by Jennie Rosen

Written By: Cori OKeefe - Jun• 13•17

 

The road was a blur. The dust chased after me like a mob of wild horses. I passed tree after tree. The road was deserted; the hills rolled on by as I passed, rolled on like waves in an ocean. As the pavement curved around every turn, my legs reached for the next leap. My foot locked into place as I pressed to the finish line. I didn’t know where I was going, nor did I care; I needed to get far away from that town. The road suddenly turned to dust. A cloud followed me as I tried to outrun it. I ran faster and faster.

Soon I reached Spring Hill. But wasn’t that an hours distance away? How was I going so fast? The welcome sign stood still in the stray light of the moon, which shone so brightly in the night sky. Everything looked like it was fast asleep. The plants drooped their heads as the moon took over the sky. My parents would be searching for me by now, but I did not care; I had just wanted to get away, to sprint so fast that I would feel like a blur, so fast that I would not see anyone and no one would see me.

Suddenly the realization hit me: no human alive could run as fast as fast as I had been running. I had run an hour’s journey in five minutes. What was happening to me? How was this possible? Do I have super speed? Earlier that day I took a pill for a headache. I had not looked at the side effects. Remembering this, I came to a halting  stop and grabbed  the yellow bottle out of my bag. It had tiny writing on it. I flipped it over to the back to try and found side effects.  I stopped in shock as I read “Superhuman activity such as super speed.”

Sausage Snatcher by Riley Reynolds

Written By: Cori OKeefe - Jun• 13•17

 

It was one of those nice, lazy summer days, and the park was the best idea my owner had put forth since getting me in the first place. Me, being the plump pug that I am, thought of it no more than stolen food. Really, it was the loss of someone close, the trust.

“Wanna go to the park, Winny? Do ya? Do ya?!” Owner cooed. She seemed awfully excited about her good idea, and I barked at her in agreement.  I was getting tired of the baby talk, so I ran to the coat hanger where we kept my leash. Before I could get there though, Owner clipped the forest green rope on my neck. She held open our apartment door, and I dashed down the hallway, pulling her right to the elevator.

My happiness flew while in the car, and before I knew it, the big metal gates of the city park were overhead. Owner and I went down the cobbled path, straight to our first stop, Winkle’s Weiner Stand. With the faded yellow sign and juicy sausage smell, I felt in heaven. The line was relatively short, so soon enough, we got our regular. 2 Hot Dogs, and a side of water in a tray. We then continued to follow the cobbled path as the ground got muddier. The quieter part of the park, where willows swept shade down, and the grass a permanent juicy green, was where we would set as our spot, always, because it was never crowded.  Walking across a bikeway, Owner lay a blanket down, watching me and laughing as I gobbled the juicy meat down in two seconds.  Owner unwrapped her own sausage, choosing a boring route of savoring. Blech. I waddled over to a willow tree, in a deep food coma, to rest in the shade.  I lay my head down, but not a minute later, Owner screamed. I smelt lavender, and opened my eyes to a bush rustling, and an empty bun, lonely in Owner’s hand. Her face, looking down at the bread in shock.

I howled in anguish. “NOOO!” I ran over to comfort Owner, and lick the greasy bun. Mostly the second thing though.  After the bun eating, I began to find clues. We NEEDED to find this sausage. I pulled against the leash, just in order to smell the ground. It was that same lavender smell, and a set of wet paw prints going into a bush. I barked at it, maybe to scare the thief. Nothing happened, though. Owner giggled. “This is serious, lady!” I yapped. Owner let go of the leash in amusement. I ran along the moist ground, into the bush, Owner’s voice began fading, I think she was yelling to get back. No time, I wanted to say, but she wouldn’t of understood anyway.  I barked again. This time, I heard a response, several responses, actually.  I groaned. I had followed the tracks to the dog park! There were at least a hundred different dogs, finding who did it would be impossible! I sighed, laying down.

A small fluffy dog ran over to me. “Hey, Winny!” she called. Fluffy was my good friend. Her owner spoiled her, but she was really nice. I was a little shocked at her usually pristine fur. It was covered in leaves, and she had dark mud all over her.  “I can’t really talk right now-” I was side tackled by a big bundle of ginger fur. “WINNY! I didn’t know you’d be here!” Sam, another friend of mine, wagged her tail, pinning me down. Her coat was covered in dry, reddish dust, the stuff that has replaced most of the grass in the dog park.  Obviously, I looked a little confused. “Oh, We were just rolling in the dirt.” Fluffy said, reading my mind. Sam looked slightly confused with this comment, but changed the subject  “What’s up?!” She asked, seeing my wrinkly face etched with worry.

“My owner’s hot dog was stolen!” gasping, Fluffy ran off, barking to us that she’d find suspects. All of our owners watched a show, ‘Sherlock’ I think, where these guys solve mysterious problems. This was our chance to be in our own! She was awfully hurried, but I thought it was just excitement.

In the next 30 seconds, Fluffy was back with an angry chihuahua who was not happy to be investigated.  We nudged him into a bush, and began our questioning. What turned up was that the little guy became so terrified that he began barking his head off, and his owner took him. Our next few suspects were just as clueless.

“What’s a sausage?”

“I didn’t do anything!!” *sobs*

“I admit it! I dug up Owner’s garden!’

I sighed, about to give up, when Fluffy brought in a spaniel, her fluffy eyebrows furrowed. “This one’s a bad apple, Charlie goes to my salon, and he’s constantly taking all the treats!” She snootily stuck her nose in the air, proud of herself for finding the villain.  I took a once over of the small dog. His fur was shiny white with ginger spots, his eyes glaring at me. Something smelled familiar.  I sniffed the air, and found the lavender scent again… I gasped.  “I know who did it!” pushing my squat nose at Charlie. “I know that smell! It was there at the crime scene!” I said triumphantly. I was about to congratulate Fluffy, when Sam spoke up. “Wait a minute, Win, This don’t add up. Look at his fur! It’s blinding me it’s so clean! Now look at your fur.” I turned my head self consciously. Burrs were stuck along it, and mud streaked through. “Guess I got a little muddy running here!” I laughed nervously. Was I wrong? Sam looked at me, her head cocked. “Now how do you think Charlie here got clean so fast?”

“But who could of done it if it wasn’t Charlie? That smell is the one that was there when the hot dog was taken!” Charlie suddenly spoke. His voice was annoyed, but also seemed like he was talking to a pup. “It’s the shampoo that they use on us at the salon, and many dogs go there. I had an appointment this morning, so did Fluffy.” I looked doubtfully at Fluffy. She would never willingly get dirty, and wouldn’t just roll in mud. “Hey, I’ll find someone else to investigate, I know most dogs who go to the place.” Charlie began walking away. “I’d take a look at Fluffy’s fur, ya know…” he quietly woofed, sniffing a bush. Fluffy began to walk out of our bush fort. “Wait, Fluffy!” I barked out to her. She looked back at me. “What, Winn?” I stopped. It couldn’t be her. It just couldn’t. “Never mind.” I said, she gave me a strange look, but then pranced off.

“Why didn’t you say anything? It’s her you know, right?” Sam looked at me. I glared at her. “It’s not her! She wouldn’t do that! We’re too good of friends!” I broke out, yapping at my faithful friend. She backed up a little but calmly said, “If you don’t do it, I will.” She then ran to catch Fluffy. I felt terrible. I thought she was a great friend. Why would she? She got caviar as dinner every night! Sam came back to me, without Fluffy. “It’s her.” she simply said. Emotionlessly, she walked out of the bush again. I lay down, tail drooping.

Minutes, hours, days later I heard my name being called. It was Owner. I gave a half hearted bark back. She pulled me out of the bush into a hug. “I was worried!” She squeezed me tighter. I snorted back. She cradled me like a baby, and we walked along the now shadowed path to the front. As we left those large metal gates, a small voice called. “I’m sorry..” It was Fluffy. Her owner had her in one of those dog sweaters, and I suddenly understood. She would never get the taste of a hike, or to share a scoop of ice cream. Her life was perfect, but at the same time all wrong.  “ got so jealous of you, it just happened.” she said meekly. Owner began walking faster, seeing how I was barking,  but I pushed myself out of her arms. I ran over, and “I forgive you,” was all I could say.

 

 

 

Twenty-One by Calvin Neprud

Written By: Cori OKeefe - Jun• 13•17

 

Golden rays of sunshine filter through green leaves,

lazily dancing in the warm spring breeze.

Bird chirps suddenly quiet;

a sharp crack of a seven shot volley

cuts through the otherwise peaceful cemetery.

Two more cracks make it twenty-one shots.

Another person is being swallowed by this sea of stone and earth

I’m sitting here beneath an old oak,

listening to a soldier’s story of his dead comrade,

watching this American hero tear up remembering his friend

who died too young.

 

As I walk over to the grave of Matthew Pucino,

I think back to when I was younger.

I slept overnight on an old battleship,

playing tag throughout its heavily armoured decks.  

oblivious to the fact that this huge ship shelled Casablanca,

wreaking havoc on the ports

and businesses

and homes.

Only seeing the hole in the deck armor as a close call,

not the destructive explosion the rocked the ship

setting it ablaze

threatening the lives of the sailors onboard.

And I hear a cannon boom in the background,

twenty-one times.

 

A Journey Through the Cemetery by Porter Moody

Written By: Cori OKeefe - Jun• 13•17

Endless headstones stretch out in all directions,

names of shadow etched in the pure white.

Flawless rows of thousands sit atop freshly cut grass,

each with a message.

A light breeze passes through,

carrying the sound of gunfire

twenty-one times.

In the distance,

a mother breaks into tears,

her loss inexplicable.

Yet she stands,

a sea of white around her,

where the patches of green have faded,

and the stones seem to merge together.

She leaves a flower by her son,

where it will soon be lost in the accumulation of sadness

of the countless families before her.

As one who hasn’t felt the despair shared by the loved ones of the fallen,

the mass of graves seem to take away the individual meaning for each soldier.

But they add new meaning.

to the overwhelming sorrow:

An aura of pride,

suspended in the air,

hanging above the rock solid graves,

entrenched in the ground.

An aura of unity,

over the bright green grass,

and the repeating stones,

extending to the trees in the far distance,

as we come together,

for the dead,

for the alive,

for our country.

Carving Out Hope by Valentina Micolisin

Written By: Cori OKeefe - Jun• 13•17

The sun blinds my eyes,

but it feeds the plants that surround me

providing strength for them to grow,

upward.

Martin Luther King, Jr. stands tall

carving out the stone

piece by piece,

providing us with a path,

onward.

 

The stones,

some white,

some grey,

build up the magnificent statue,

piece by piece,

holding Martin up,

holding the movement together.

 

His legs are still not carved out

of the stone.

But, they will be.

Soon.