Sunday, October 8, 2017

Killing Trump

 


I need to kill Trump


I need to kill what I don’t like or what I hate


I need to kill guns and bad people


I need to kill bad people with guns


I need to kill dumb Republican politicians hypocrites in the first degree


I need to kill unfulfilled ambitions 


I need to kill people who waste time (I do, a lot)


I need to kill my own procrastination (NOW)


I need to kill irrelevant religions (all of them)

I need to kill all people that hurt children


I need to kill all killers


I need to kill racist macho homophobic wife beaters


I need to kill violent people that only talk about killing


I need to kill NRA supporters and gun-loving false protectors of peace


I need to kill and re-kill the second amendment


I need to kill indifferent people that never vote and always complain


I need to kill all that I hate so the world becomes more human


But if all my wishes would come true and if I get rid of all I hate


What would I do by myself in a perfect world? Ha!


Could any parts of this rant be considered terrorist threats?


What if someone would really kill Trump? Millions would want to, I know.


I’d be glad to be a suspect


Still, it would be fun to be hated by all stupid people in America


But admired and loved by the rest.





Edmundo Barraza

Lancaster, Ca. Dec-10-2015







Saturday, September 30, 2017

Apocalyptic Moons





Many scientists had predicted that humans would provoke their own extinction. They also said that global warming would trigger other tragedies. Skeptical politicians ignored all warnings and did nothing to prevent the fast approaching Armageddon.

Other contributing factors were: Overpopulation, nuclear wars, and pandemics. The unnecessary exploitation of energetics forced a harmful climate change. Then, a few nations trying to control what was left of the world initiated wars launching attacks with biological warfare and other weapons of mass destruction. The increasing madness had devastating consequences for Mother Nature. 

Sadly, (or gladly) humans were the only species disappearing from our planet. 

The human race turned out to be a resilient kind of animal; they could be compared to cockroaches. Nuclear wars were not destructive enough to exterminate humans. Pandemics further decimated humankind, but neither of those completely eliminated the global population. It had to be a combination of all catastrophes known to man.

The animal kingdom realized that humans were the culprit of such bizarre phenomenon. Therefore, they turned against humans. Mankind had always underestimated animals, but the equilibrium of nature invariably succeeds. Sometimes, certain species had to perish in order for others to survive.

All animals in the world began to grow in physical size, and their brain capacity increased too. Rats grew to double their size every hundred years. Human flesh became part of the animal diet. Animals had found a logical solution, ‘kill and feed’. Get rid of the enemy by consuming it.

The total eradication of humans from the face of the earth appeared impossible at first. 

We knew that if unattended, a house could be devoured by an infestation of rats, cockroaches, and termites in less than fifty years. Humans not only had left their houses unattended but the entire world. They had totally cooperated to their own destruction. They had complete knowledge of that possibility five hundred years before. All powerful nations were blaming each other. And kept generating new wars that accelerated their deserving fate. 

They had reached their final goal. They fused the past with the present and canceled the future.


*****


Lucius Night and Katana Luna were the last survivors, they were the last vestige of humankind. And there was no one left to cheer for their success. Adam and Eve didn’t have such an impossible task. 

When population began to decline, life expectancy for humans had been from a hundred and fifty to two hundred years. Many illnesses had been eradicated. Alcohol, tobacco, sugar, and animal fat were rarely consumed. That period had been the peak of human excellence. Body and mind at their best. Then things rapidly deteriorated. 

Lucius Night had a superior mind than most scientists from the twentieth-first century. Katana Luna had a JCN chip implanted before she was born. They were human computers. They were taller and stronger than their human counterparts from five centuries before. But they were still vulnerable to the rest of the animal kingdom, where a rat was as big as a cat. From year to year the size increase could not be noticeable but in five hundred years the difference was humongous.

Having a common enemy, animals had become allies among themselves to fight against humans. The animal kingdom had significantly reduced killing each other; half of them had adopted a semi-vegetarian diet. The other half was consuming human flesh, which seemed to be addicting, judging from the amounts they were ingesting. And the supply seemed unlimited.  

The animal kingdom had indeed become the King. It appeared that history could repeat itself.

Lucius and Katana didn’t know they were the only humans left. They had not seen other people for a long time. The last time Lucius saw his parents was soon after his mom had delivered Katana Luna. Many months had passed since their parents had left the cave. And there was no need to pretend they were still alive. 

Lucius knew there was a slim chance for him and her sister to survive. He had promised himself to never give up for Katana's sake. The main purpose in Lucius' life was to protect his little sister.

It was hard to guess Lucius Night’s age due to the change in human life expectancy. Whatever his age was he was far more intelligent and stronger than he appeared. 

Every single day was going to be a struggle to remain alive. Indeed, Adam and Eve didn’t have such an impossible task.

Just like Adam and Eve, Lucius and Katana were responsible for the future of mankind. Adam and Eve did their best, but they did not succeed. From the story of the Tree of Knowledge, it all went down in a disastrous decline. But their decline had lasted thousands of years. If Lucius and Katana were pretending to avoid the complete eradication of human life, first and foremost they had to implant one thing into the minds of future generations: They had to respect their home. Humankind was one People, and Planet Earth was their only home. They had to take care of it constantly, mainly by leaving it alone.

God had never intervened since Adam and Eve, and Lucius and Katana were not expecting His help. 

God had probably left already. After all, there was nothing to supervise anymore.

If there was anything certain in the Bible, it had to be Armageddon. The end of times scenario had been worse than anyone could have predicted. But since humans began to disappear, the planet’s landscape had improved greatly. The big metropolises like New York, Tokyo, and Rio de Janeiro became the most beautiful jungles in the world. The deserts began to shrink as soon as humans started to vanish. The same way humans had underestimated animals, they had also underestimated Mother Nature's healing powers. All damage done by humans had started to reverse after the first signs of human extinction. Nature was finally getting rid of a grave illness: humanoid overcrowding.

Lucius and Katana had only two weapons to defend themselves. Katana Luna had the paralyzing waver. A handgun designed to send airwaves in all directions, capable of paralyzing all animals in a radius of a hundred feet; the effect could last from two to six hours, depending on the animal size. It was a non-lethal weapon. Lucius had the invisible laser-blazer. An accurate ray-seeking weapon powerful enough to disintegrate a whale in a fraction of a second.

Most of their knowledge had been implanted or absorbed during their twelve-month gestational period. Knowledge especially prepared by their parents, knowing in advance that a human extinction was approaching. They had specific training in survival skills. Their food source and diet were contained mainly in pills rich in artificial nutrients and proteins, including water. Each pill had a slow energy release that lasted a week. They had a little over a thousand units to last about five hundred weeks or approximately ten years. 

Communication between Katana and Lucius had been telepathic for the most part. Katana wasn’t able to talk yet, and this was a concern for Lucius, since he began to talk at a younger age. But he thought it was because he was the only person who could talk to her. After all, he spoke to her very little and rarely using complete sentences. Katana used hand signals. She loved to hear her name spoken by Lucius and every time she wanted Lucius to pronounce her name she would tap her right temple with her right hand. In those instances, Lucius would begin to sing . . . 
  
"Katana Luna, Katana Luna, my sweet moon
Brighter than the sun
Stronger than a monsoon
Katana Luna, Katana Luna, 
I'd go insane without you . . ."


And every time Lucius finished singing, Katana would end up with a big smile on her face, and Lucius with tears in his eyes, for that was the song her mom used to sing to make her fall asleep.



*****


The place chosen by Lucius' parents for a shelter was a cave on a mountain range less than a mile from the ocean. The animal invasion to the cities was an amazing collaborative operation in which several animal species had participated. With no apparent leader, the animals had to be communicating telepathically or in another mysterious way.

During the day, diverse animals, including former house pets organized the attack. Dogs, cats, mice, spiders, ants, cockroaches, birds and snakes had been avid participants. The size of dogs and cats had increased so much that they could not be kept in homes. Around that time, Lucius' dad had to get rid of his dog because he suspected the dog had attempted to eat Lucius. The dog had been named Kepler after the planet humans had been trying unsuccessfully to colonize for centuries

Domestic animals didn't exist anymore. House pests could only be controlled by professional exterminators. Weapons were created especially to get rid of these pests. At night, another kind of animals emerged, including rats, bats, wolves, and coyotes. But it was insanely dangerous, day and night.

The military began to help, but soon, they were ordered to withdraw because they were causing more damage than help. Besides, American people were well armed, but they were overwhelmed by the enormous amount of attackers.

Due to the constant contact with such horrific carnage, people began to lose their sensitivity at the sight of human loss. Even if their own children were devoured in front of their eyes they had to continue the struggle to take care of themselves, there was no time for crying. They had to be in constant flight.

Other tragedies began to occur, with toxic waste new viruses appeared, causing pandemics of such virulence and infectiousness that decimated human population even furthermore. To fight for their survival they had to abandon their jobs and as a consequence famine showed up, and it was unmerciful. 

Of all possible extinction causes only pandemics were selective enough to eliminate humans since wildlife was left relatively unscathed.

Communities were evolving in isolated tribes, people fled in search of natural shelters, caves in mountains, open fields and deserts, forests, and underground tunnels. But there was no escape and no solution; animals were bigger and more dangerous outside city limits. You could be eaten by a thousand ants, or by a single bear.

Lucius rarely dared to venture outside the cave to hunt for food. He evaluated the risk of leaving Katana Luna in the cave or taking her with him, and most of the time he preferred to leave her behind. Sometimes he would return with fish or birds, the only kind of animals that Lucius considered safe for human consumption, and Katana’s favorite food. 

One day when Lucius came back, he found two paralyzed wolves in the cave. After he took them outside and shot them with the DD (disintegrating device) gun, he decided never to leave Katana alone again. If she had been asleep, there wouldn’t have been any traces of her left. That night, he was convinced that if that would have been the case; he’d kill himself for sure. The reason Katana had chosen the paralyzing gun was that she was against any animal killings unless it was done for human feeding. An extreme stance, considering the current situation. She certainly was the last pacifist amidst the turmoil of the final Armageddon. 

The results were catastrophic. Nearly eight billion people perished in the last five hundred years. And all the world contained began to thrive without humans. The apocalyptic images had been erased. Earth’s heart was beating at a lower speed, the world was happy. Nature didn’t need men. The world had no use for mankind.


*****



From the beginning, one of Katana’s dearest passions had been contemplating lunar eclipses. Only two things were important in her life, Lucius was definitely the number one. Lunar eclipses would have to be second place for sure. If it was up to her, she would never miss any of those celestial events. She would sit for hours, ignoring all risks and hazards. She would remain captivated in delight, hypnotized by the phenomenon and oblivious to any external actions. In remarked contrast, during those moments, Lucius had to remain on constant alert, ready to defuse any dangers that might appear. Moments like that would have made God reconsider His hope for mankind. Brotherly love of such high purity could not be ignored by any god in any Universe. 

The first lunar eclipse Katana had experienced was in the peaceful darkness of the backyard in their humble house, while mother sang her favorite lullaby and rocked her in her arms.

"Katana Luna, Katana Luna, my sweet moon
Brighter than the sun
Stronger than a monsoon
Katana Luna, Katana Luna, 
I'd go insane without you . . ."



The worse day in Lucius’ life had been the day Katana was attacked by a cat twice her weight. Lucius neglected his attention from her for a few minutes while hunting for birds. Lucius killed the aggressor, but only after the cat had badly scratched Katana’s leg. Katana was able to shoot her gun while the cat was mid-flight aiming in her direction, but couldn’t avoid the cat from landing on her leg. She was a brave girl, without a doubt.

That day was the second time Lucius has seen her cry. The day he found the two wolves inside the cave was the first. 


Several nights later, Lucius had a dream with his dad in which dad advised him to search for the “crystal wall”, and to be ready for departure. Once in a while, he would dream with Dad, and invariably he would give him some kind of guidance. He would always recount all those dreams to his sister, and their happiness would last for days. 

Lucius found the dream hard to interpret, nevertheless, the following day they would search for that mysterious crystal wall.

The last few days he had noticed a little change in the sky. The clouds were not clear, they had a blurry look, wavy and foggy. As if you were looking through a crystal glass.

The following day, Lucius took Katana along and began to search for the crystal wall. For the first time, he was dubious about the purpose of his dream. He had never doubted his dad’s advice. Still, he was uncertain about the “wall” or what to do if he'd find it. Lucius also couldn’t figure out what his dad meant by ‘departure’. He felt excited, but he knew they would encounter high risks and unwanted danger.

Early in the morning, they began to climb the mountain’s peak above the cave. Katana’s injured leg had not completely healed yet, her leg was still bandaged, but Lucius knew she was strong enough for the task. With weapons in hand, they began the trek. Climbing the mountain was not an easy task, but Lucius was glad they were well-rested and full of energy. Katana was hiking a few feet ahead of Lucius, that way; Lucius thought, he could catch her if she slipped. 

And she did when a menacing yellow spider crossed her path. The spider was half her size; it seemed that the arachnid could be able to not just kill her but to eat her. Swift and hostile, the spider stunned Katana and made her lose her balance. Lucius, fearless and ferocious, shot the spider while catching Katana in his arms.

After walking for two days, Lucius considered returning to the cave, when he literally crashed into the wall a few yards past of what appeared to be the end of the luscious vegetation and thick forest. He never thought the world could have an edge or an end. 

Beyond the glass wall, he could see the sky all around him, even below his feet. It seemed so odd and bizarre. 

It appeared to him that the fifteenth century explorers were right . . . The Earth was flat after all. His inquisitive mind couldn’t find a logical explanation. And as he tried to find the purpose of the wall, he hit it with a rock as hard as he could, but he couldn’t even scratch it. He wondered if the wall was enclosing the space outside, or if they were in some kind of a cage. Seeing the enormous void of space in the exterior, he guessed the second part was right.

They kept exploring what appeared to be a new world within the old world. It seemed like a dream. The place could definitively be described as utopian . . . or dystopian. 

Changes in the surroundings included the animals, he thought they looked smaller. Or was it that he and Katana were growing bigger? In the end, he concluded that all animals were returning back to their normal size. They seemed less ferocious too. They also began to appear in pairs. It was probably the mating season. But it couldn’t be mating season for all species at the same time. Lucius had also noticed that lately the animals had gone back to their herbivorous diet. But since humans had disappeared there was no other choice. He figured.

And when they ventured into the ocean waters, they noticed that the water tasted less salty. Things were surely changing. He then recalled the time he saw a pod of gigantic whales that caused a huge tsunami and pushed the sea water close to their cave, almost a mile away and a hundred feet above sea level. But that was a long time ago. The ocean now looked more like a lake. It was serene and placid, and as beautiful as ever.

For the next three days, he carried Katana on his shoulders along the glass wall. One night, something strange happened; the night seemed longer, way too long. It seemed that their internal clock malfunctioned because they woke up and it was still dark. Katana and Lucius went back to sleep three times before the sun reappeared. 

Then, something even stranger occurred; two moons appeared on the horizon. It was a beautiful moon rise. It was peculiar and freakish, but extremely beautiful.

Unbeknownst to them, they had arrived at their destination . . .  "The New World”. A world so big, it would take seven days to go around its own axis. A day on this planet was equal to seven days on Earth. And the crystal walls surrounding Katana and Lucius’ world was, in fact, a spaceship created by their father. It also functioned as an ark to transport animals to the new world, an empty world . . . until now.

“Look Katana, look!” Lucius screamed in excitement “Look Katana, two moons! Katana Luna Luna!” and he repeated 'Luna' for he knew 'Luna' meant 'moon'.

And he proclaimed, “This is the real beginning of Eternity. This is our new home Katana."



Edmundo Barraza
Lancaster, Ca. Nov-28-2015


An Accidental Dream






I don’t remember how I ended up in this hospital. I was probably riding my bike, either going down a straight, steep road or standing up on the main horizontal frame of my bike or maybe, I was doing my most daring trick: going fast and straight, ignoring a stop sign to cross the widest boulevard in my small town. I only perform this trick at night, when there’s not a lot of traffic. I have fun taking risks, but I’m not stupid.

At the moment my entire body hurts, according to my pain level; I guess I was run over by an eighteen-wheeler. I can’t move, my body feels numb. I think my body’s still scared of what happened in the accident but I’m only guessing. I still don’t know why I’m here. My thoughts are not clear at all. I can’t even remember my name but that doesn’t worry me a great deal. I’m alive and complete, I think. 

The room is cold and clean. Like a room that was made to last a hundred years, and everything in it too. I wonder how many people have died on this bed. I hope I’m not one of them. I don’t have any experience on this, but I think I won’t die this time, or anytime soon. I can barely move but I have enough energy to bend my head to check if I still have my four extremities, thank God, I do. I just found out another thing, I believe in God. In the present situation, I guess that’s good. I guess I’ll be doing a lot of guessing in the next few days, which is good because that means I’ll be alive for at least a few more days, I guess. 

I must have hit my head and lost a million brain cells or more. I hope I still have some left. I’m so confused, I don’t even know my age, or even worse, I don’t even know whether I’m a man or a woman. Now, that’s a scary thought. Instinctively, and with great effort I decide to investigate. With my right hand, I go down to investigate. Since I can barely move it gives me time to analyze what I wish to find. It feels like a great privilege, like being born again, but this time I have a choice. When I reach my object I feel happy to find a dick. I immediately decide that I’m not a vulgar person and instead I call “it” a penis. I wonder what I would have done if I had found a vagina in there. I would probably have touched it for a long time. Oh, this is so absurd, even for a dream this is confusing. But I’m a man and that makes me happy, I’m glad I’m not a woman.

The nurse still doesn’t know that I’m back, awake, or that I just regained my consciousness. My guess is that she is Hispanic or Latina or Mexican. She is young and cute. She’s checking on some plastic bags with liquids in them, hanging from a metal stand next to the bed. I was going to say “next to my bed”, but it isn’t mine. Then a person wearing a white robe opens the door, I guess he’s the doctor. He begins to talk to the nurse, but they ignore the most important person in the room, which is me, the patient. And I decide to leave the room and fall in deep unconsciousness.

My confusion keeps increasing. I’m in another world, and I guess this is the real world, but I don’t like it either. Somebody is chasing me. It feels unreal like I'm part of a story inside a book, or like I'm in somebody’s dream. It could be my own dream. 

Right after I fell from my bike, the asphalt road turned into a jungle. And someone who seems to be a Spanish conqueror is after me, chasing me, and he doesn’t seem to have good intentions. It appears that for some reason he's trying to kill me, and if he’s a Spanish conqueror, I might be an Aztec warrior. I decide to call him Cortez. And if he’s Cortez, I might be Moctezuma. And I like the idea. As soon as I decided to be Moctezuma my fears disappear. Cortez, despite his name, is not polite, and also despite his cannons, his soldiers, and guns, he will not conquer me, because this is my jungle, my Empire, and my dream.

The doctor, who by the way has a nice red beard, asks me to tell him, from one to ten, what level of pain I’m feeling. I say seven because I prefer to be sedated and remain here, instead of being chased by  Cortez and his horses. Then, the doctor increases the IV drip rate that controls the morphine, or pain killer medication, or anesthesia, or whatever it is that keeps me unconscious and sends me to dreamland. The liquid runs straight from the plastic bag to my weak and vulnerable brain and immediately gives me hallucinating images.

Then, as if somebody pressed the pause button, I got transferred to la-la land and found Cortez behind my tail.

If I remember the story right according to the Spanish conquerors Moctezuma was killed, stoned by his own people on a balcony in his palace. On the other hand, the indigenous accounts claim that he was killed by the Spanish. Either way, Cortez will not succeed on his attempt to kill me this time. Just in case, while I run almost unconcerned, (now that I remember the outcome of the story) I pick some coca leaves and place them in my mouth to put more distance between Cortez and me. If I’m carrying the effects of the morphine or hallucinatory drugs from the hospital bed to my dream, I might be also able to carry the effects of the coca leaves from the jungle to my hospital room. Does it make sense? Yes, it does. This is the best movie I’ve seen all year. I wish I could remember the whole thing and be able to write it all down when this is over.

I only hear the usual noises from the animals in the jungle, I think I lost Cortez. The chase was in my favor from the beginning. Cortez didn’t have any advantage riding his mighty horse in this thick vegetation. I don’t know why Cortez is so persistent to kill me; we already gave him most of our gold, which is useless to us. In exchange, they gave us some cheap trinkets and mirrors, which are also useless to us. But I wish I could keep this beautiful medallion hanging from my neck. It feels good bouncing on my chest; it seems that my heart and the medallion are having a conversation while running to escape from the villain in my dream.

For a moment I wonder if my temporary demented mind is confounding the reality with the dream. Could it be that the jungle is real and the hospital bed is my dream? But it can’t be because if I’m Moctezuma, I can’t have any knowledge about hospitals and hallucinatory drugs. But actually, the Aztecs did have these two things too. Can you hallucinate about things that don’t exist? I guess you can. But can you imagine an Aztec warrior riding a bike? I need to discard these absurd thoughts; they’re too bizarre, even for a nightmare.

Digging in the archives of my mind while trying to refresh my knowledge about Cortez and Moctezuma another character shows up, “La Malinche”. I think that by thinking about my dreams when I’m not dreaming I’m feeding more material to my brain to continue dreaming. If I’m not wrong, La Malinche was an indigenous native who acted as an interpreter, advisor, and lover to Cortez, she was also known as Doña Marina.

The chase finished abruptly when I reached the end of the Jungle at the shore of the lake. I wasn’t afraid because I knew that wasn’t the place where I would die. But I wished that nobody would change the history. Because Cortez died before Moctezuma.

Conquerors and villains are never alone. Cortez had many men with him and I was alone. But I knew that if the fight would be between him and me, I would destroy him.

He brought me back to Tenochtitlan, to my palace and my people. Along the way I kept hearing voices from the hospital, mixing the dream with the reality, unable to concentrate on neither of them. I could hear the doctor and the nurse, while at the same time I was listening to Cortez leading me to my palace. Cortez was trying to persuade me to talk to my people and convince them to give up our arms to avoid more bloodshed. While on the other scene the doctor was chasing the nurse around my bed trying to convince her to give him a kiss. It was obvious that the amorous relationship had started recently.

It was hard to concentrate. If I can be a little dramatic, I thought I was fighting for my life on two fronts at the same time. Without knowing which one was my real life. It might be very clear to you, but it was very unclear to me. If I had a choice, I would prefer to be left alone.

But I enjoyed the fact that I was (semi) unconscious most of the time. And that I had the ability to jump from one place to the other. If I was in pain I could medicate myself and go back to the jungle. If the drug wore off, I could return for more. I didn’t have any idea how long I had been there. I had no notion of time or space. 

I returned chained and ashamed to my palace and my people. I felt ashamed because I was captured without a fight. La Malinche bows to Cortez and ignores me, and I feel abandoned by my people too. When Cortez pushes me to the main balcony of my palace, I know the end is getting near. And I disappear from there hoping to never come back. The pain is too painful.

Back in the hospital, I decided to take the pain the natural way. I asked the doctor if he could remove the painkillers, and he agreed. 

Then, he called the nurse.

“Marina, please remove the IV unit away from him.”

“Yes, Dr. Cortez.” she answered.

Then, it all made sense to me.




Edmundo Barraza
Lancaster, Ca. 01-14-2015


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Thursday, September 28, 2017

An Angel in Disguise



Author:  



Idleness, vice, and intemperance had done their miserable work, and the dead mother lay cold and still amid her wretched children. She had fallen upon the threshold of her own door in a drunken fit, and died in the presence of her frightened little ones.

Death touches the spring of our common humanity. This woman had been despised, scoffed at, and angrily denounced by nearly every man, woman, and child in the village; but now, as the fact of, her death was passed from lip to lip, in subdued tones, pity took the place of anger, and sorrow of denunciation. Neighbors went hastily to the old tumble-down hut, in which she had secured little more than a place of shelter from summer heats and winter cold: some with grave-clothes for a decent interment of the body; and some with food for the half-starving children, three in number. Of these, John, the oldest, a boy of twelve, was a stout lad, able to earn his living with any farmer. Kate, between ten and eleven, was bright, active girl, out of whom something clever might be made, if in good hands; but poor little Maggie, the youngest, was hopelessly diseased. Two years before a fall from a window had injured her spine, and she had not been able to leave her bed since, except when lifted in the arms of her mother.

"What is to be done with the children?" That was the chief question now. The dead mother would go underground, and be forever beyond all care or concern of the villagers. But the children must not be left to starve. After considering the matter, and talking it over with his wife, farmer Jones said that he would take John, and do well by him, now that his mother was out of the way; and Mrs. Ellis, who had been looking out for a bound girl, concluded that it would be charitable in her to make choice of Katy, even though she was too young to be of much use for several years.

"I could do much better, I know," said Mrs. Ellis; "but as no one seems inclined to take her, I must act from a sense of duty expect to have trouble with the child; for she's an undisciplined thing--used to having her own way."

But no one said "I'll take Maggie." Pitying glances were cast on her wan and wasted form and thoughts were troubled on her account. Mothers brought cast-off garments and, removing her soiled and ragged clothes, dressed her in clean attire. The sad eyes and patient face of the little one touched many hearts, and even knocked at them for entrance. But none opened to take her in. Who wanted a bed-ridden child?

"Take her to the poorhouse," said a rough man, of whom the question "What's to be done with Maggie?" was asked. "Nobody's going to be bothered with her."

"The poorhouse is a sad place for a sick and helpless child," answered one.

"For your child or mine," said the other, lightly speaking; "but for tis brat it will prove a blessed change, she will be kept clean, have healthy food, and be doctored, which is more than can be said of her past condition."

There was reason in that, but still it didn't satisfy. The day following the day of death was made the day of burial. A few neighbors were at the miserable hovel, but none followed dead cart as it bore the unhonored remains to its pauper grave. Farmer Jones, after the coffin was taken out, placed John in his wagon and drove away, satisfied that he had done his part. Mrs. Ellis spoke to Kate with a hurried air, "Bid your sister good by," and drew the tearful children apart ere scarcely their lips had touched in a sobbing farewell. Hastily others went out, some glancing at Maggie, and some resolutely refraining from a look, until all had gone. She was alone! Just beyond the threshold Joe Thompson, the wheelwright, paused, and said to the blacksmith's wife, who was hastening off with the rest,--

"It's a cruel thing to leave her so."

"Then take her to the poorhouse: she'll have to go there," answered the blacksmith's wife, springing away, and leaving Joe behind.
For a little while the man stood with a puzzled air; then he turned back, and went into the hovel again. Maggie with painful effort, had raised herself to an upright position and was sitting on the bed, straining her eyes upon the door out of which all had just departed, A vague terror had come into her thin white face.

"O, Mr. Thompson!" she cried out, catching her suspended breath, "don't leave me here all alone!"

Though rough in exterior, Joe Thompson, the wheelwright, had a heart, and it was very tender in some places. He liked children, and was pleased to have them come to his shop, where sleds and wagons were made or mended for the village lads without a draft on their hoarded sixpences.

"No, dear," he answered, in a kind voice, going to the bed, and stooping down over the child, "You sha'n't be left here alone." Then he wrapped her with the gentleness almost of a woman, in the clean bedclothes which some neighbor had brought; and, lifting her in his strong arms, bore her out into the air and across the field that lay between the hovel and his home.

Now, Joe Thompson's wife, who happened to be childless, was not a woman of saintly temper, nor much given to self-denial for others' good, and Joe had well-grounded doubts touching the manner of greeting he should receive on his arrival. Mrs. Thompson saw him approaching from the window, and with ruffling feathers met him a few paces from the door, as he opened the garden gate, and came in. He bore a precious burden, and he felt it to be so. As his arms held the sick child to his breast, a sphere of tenderness went out from her, and penetrated his feelings. A bond had already corded itself around them both, and love was springing into life.

"What have you there?" sharply questioned Mrs. Thompson.
Joe, felt the child start and shrink against him. He did not reply, except by a look that was pleading and cautionary, that said, "Wait a moment for explanations, and be gentle;" and, passing in, carried Maggie to the small chamber on the first floor, and laid her on a bed. Then, stepping back, he shut the door, and stood face to face with his vinegar-tempered wife in the passage-way outside.

"You haven't brought home that sick brat!" Anger and astonishment were in the tones of Mrs. Joe Thompson; her face was in a flame.

"I think women's hearts are sometimes very hard," said Joe. Usually Joe Thompson got out of his wife's way, or kept rigidly silent and non-combative when she fired up on any subject; it was with some surprise, therefore, that she now encountered a firmly-set countenance and a resolute pair of eyes.

"Women's hearts are not half so hard as men's!"

Joe saw, by a quick intuition, that his resolute bearing had impressed his wife and he answered quickly, and with real indignation, "Be that as it may, every woman at the funeral turned her eyes steadily from the sick child's face, and when the cart went off with her dead mother, hurried away, and left her alone in that old hut, with the sun not an hour in the sky."

"Where were John and Kate?" asked Mrs. Thompson.

"Farmer Jones tossed John into his wagon, and drove off. Katie went home with Mrs. Ellis; but nobody wanted the poor sick one. 'Send her to the poorhouse,' was the cry."

"Why didn't you let her go, then. What did you bring her here for?"

"She can't walk to the poorhouse," said Joe; "somebody's arms must carry her, and mine are strong enough for that task."

"Then why didn't you keep on? Why did you stop here?" demanded the wife.

"Because I'm not apt to go on fools' errands. The Guardians must first be seen, and a permit obtained."

There was no gainsaying this.

"When will you see the Guardians?" was asked, with irrepressible impatience.

"To-morrow."

"Why put it off till to-morrow? Go at once for the permit, and get the whole thing off of your hands to-night."

"Jane," said the wheelwright, with an impressiveness of tone that greatly subdued his wife, "I read in the Bible sometimes, and find much said about little children. How the Savior rebuked the disciples who would not receive them; how he took them up in his arms, and blessed them; and how he said that 'whosoever gave them even a cup of cold water should not go unrewarded.' Now, it is a small thing for us to keep this poor motherless little one for a single night; to be kind to her for a single night; to make her life comfortable for a single night."

The voice of the strong, rough man shook, and he turned his head away, so that the moisture in his eyes might not be seen. Mrs. Thompson did not answer, but a soft feeling crept into her heart.

"Look at her kindly, Jane; speak to her kindly," said Joe. "Think of her dead mother, and the loneliness, the pain, the sorrow that must be on all her coming life." The softness of his heart gave unwonted eloquence to his lips.

Mrs. Thompson did not reply, but presently turned towards the little chamber where her husband had deposited Maggie; and, pushing open the door, went quietly in. Joe did not follow; he saw that, her state had changed, and felt that it would be best to leave her alone with the child. So he went to his shop, which stood near the house, and worked until dusky evening released him from labor. A light shining through the little chamber windows was the first object that attracted Joe's attention on turning towards the house: it was a good omen. The path led him by this windows and, when opposite, he could not help pausing to look in. It was now dark enough outside to screen him from observation. Maggie lay, a little raised on the pillow with the lamp shining full upon her face. Mrs. Thompson was sitting by the bed, talking to the child; but her back was towards the window, so that her countenance was not seen. From Maggie's face, therefore, Joe must read the character of their intercourse. He saw that her eyes were intently fixed upon his wife; that now and then a few words came, as if in answers from her lips; that her expression was sad and tender; but he saw nothing of bitterness or pain. A deep-drawn breath was followed by one of relief, as a weight lifted itself from his heart.

On entering, Joe did not go immediately to the little chamber. His heavy tread about the kitchen brought his wife somewhat hurriedly from the room where she had been with Maggie. Joe thought it best not to refer to the child, nor to manifest any concern in regard to her.

"How soon will supper be ready?" he asked.

"Right soon," answered Mrs. Thompson, beginning to bustle about. There was no asperity in her voice.

After washing from his hands and face the dust and soil of work, Joe left the kitchen, and went to the little bedroom. A pair of large bright eyes looked up at him from the snowy bed; looked at him tenderly, gratefully, pleadingly. How his heart swelled in his bosom! With what a quicker motion came the heart-beats! Joe sat down, and now, for the first time, examining the thin frame carefully under the lamp light, saw that it was an attractive face, and full of a childish sweetness which suffering had not been able to obliterate.

"Your name is Maggie?" he said, as he sat down and took her soft little hand in his.

"Yes, sir." Her voice struck a chord that quivered in a low strain of music.

"Have you been sick long?"

"Yes, sir." What a sweet patience was in her tone!

"Has the doctor been to see you?"

"He used to come."

"But not lately?"

"No, sir."

"Have you any pain?"

"Sometimes, but not now."

"When had you pain?"

"This morning my side ached, and my back hurt when you carried me."

"It hurts you to be lifted or moved about?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your side doesn't ache now?"

"No, sir."

"Does it ache a great deal?"

"Yes, sir; but it hasn't ached any since I've been on this soft bed."

"The soft bed feels good."

"O, yes, sir--so good!" What a satisfaction, mingled with gratitude, was in her voice!

"Supper is ready," said Mrs. Thompson, looking into the room a little while afterwards.

Joe glanced from his wife's face to that of Maggie; she understood him, and answered,--

"She can wait until we are done; then I will bring her somethings to eat." There was an effort at indifference on the part of Mrs. Thompson, but her husband had seen her through the window, and understood that the coldness was assumed. Joe waited, after sitting down to the table, for his wife to introduce the subject uppermost in both of their thoughts; but she kept silent on that theme, for many minutes, and he maintained a like reserve. At last she said, abruptly,--

"What are you going to do with that child?"

"I thought you understood me that she was to go to the poorhouse," replied Joe, as if surprised at her question.

Mrs. Thompson looked rather strangely at her husband for sonic moments, and then dropped her eyes. The subject was not again referred to during the meal. At its close, Mrs. Thompson toasted a slice of bread, and softened, it with milk and butter; adding to this a cup of tea, she took them into Maggie, and held the small waiter, on which she had placed them, while the hungry child ate with every sign of pleasure.

"Is it good?" asked Mrs. Thompson, seeing with what a keen relish the food was taken.

The child paused with the cup in her hand, and answered with a look of gratitude that awoke to new life old human feelings which had been slumbering in her heart for half a score of years.

"We'll keep her a day or two longer; she is so weak and helpless," said Mrs. Joe Thompson, in answer to her husband's remark, at breakfast-time on the next morning, that he must step down and see the Guardians of the Poor about Maggie.

"She'll be so much in your way," said Joe.

"I sha'n't mind that for a day or two. Poor thing!"

Joe did not see the Guardians of the Poor on that day, on the next, nor on the day following. In fact, he never saw them at all on Maggie's account, for in less than a week Mrs. Joe Thompson would as soon leave thought of taking up her own abode in the almshouse as sending Maggie there.

What light and blessing did that sick and helpless child bring to the home of Joe Thompson, the poor wheelwright! It had been dark, and cold, and miserable there for a long time just because his wife had nothing to love and care for out of herself, and so became sore, irritable, ill-tempered, and self-afflicting in the desolation of her woman's nature. Now the sweetness of that sick child, looking ever to her in love, patience, and gratitude, was as honey to her soul, and she carried her in her heart as well as in her arms, a precious burden. As for Joe Thompson, there was not a man in all the neighborhood who drank daily of a more precious wine of life than he. An angel had come into his house, disguised as a sick, helpless, and miserable child, and filled all its dreary chambers with the sunshine of love. 




Written by American author. Timothy Shay Arthur. (June 6, 1809 - March 6,1885) -- Known as T.S. Arthur.