Rambunctious Fall 2015

Fall 2015

Rambunctious
Literary Magazine
Jamesville DeWitt High School Students and Staff,
The Rambunctious Staff is immensely proud to
present the Fall 2015 edition of Rambunctious Literary
Magazine. Rambunctious is an anthology of some of the
best creative work that students at JD have to offer, and
it's always a pleasure to read through and choose from
the submissions we recieve from the talented students
at our school. We hope that all students who
contributed work to our magazine continue to do so
throughout their careers here at JD, and are inspired to
be creative in all of their future endeavors.
Special thanks to the high school English and Visual
Arts departments for their continued support of student
creativity and of our publication. We would also like to
express our gratitude to the high school administration
and clerical staff, the Jamesville-DeWitt school board,
our superintendent Alice Kendrick, and the JDHS PTG
for their contributions and encouragement. Finally,
thank you to our readers and contributers, without
whom our magazine would not be possible.
We hope you enjoy the Fall 2015 edition of our art
and literature magazine.
The Rambunctious Staff
Akbar Qahar Aoife McCaul Giovanni Antonucci
Julia Dettor Kate Salvo Kristina Bell
Melissa Gao Michelle Pan Sofia Liaw
StephanieDushay Faculty Advisor : Matt Phillips

Table of
Contents
1 Mercy : Gabrielle Tanksley
3 Slightly : Kathryn Tzivanis
4 Ten Years Old : Hannah Moore
5 Smoker : Kathryn Tzivanis
6 Crown Molding : Stephanie Dushay
6 Standing Stone : Stephanie Dushay
7 Live : Sofia Liaw
8 Little Girl : Kathryn Tzivanis
9 Cesspool Appreciation Week : Giovanni Antonucci
10 The Truth x4 : Kristina Bell
11 Undrgrnd : Tate Horan
12 Ascendant : Muhammad Musaab
13 Carina : Tate Horan
14 Lightning : Catherine Keane
15 Into The Limelight : Tate Horan
15 Unknwn : Tate Horan
16 Generations : Stephanie Dushay
17 A Sijo : Michale Schueler
18 Fishing : A Mock Heroic Poem : Anna Pluff
19 Peacock : Eva Dougherty
20 G : Tate Horan
21 Gift : Helen Ferrick
22 Time : Michale Schueler
23 Destiny : Aygul Amurlaveya
24 Sandboxes and Prisms : Afua Addo
26 Meeting His Parents : Kristina Bell
31 Rock : Kathryn Tzivanis

Mercy
Sirens scream in the distance
4 am and I'm screaming because we missed it
America the brave
The mighty and the fallen
Doesn't see the point
The back story
Of gun control
And bad patrol
Or the devastating fact that
Guns need controlling
The news stories are always rolling
That a secure America
Has turned into insecure, rash acts
Of selfish self-believers who seem to think that they're this or that
Of people so out of it they'll take the risk
And, in THIS America,
Likely perish
I'm screaming as the sirens wail
That children are sleeping
But America's not well
And I wonder what it will be 5, 10 years from now
If America will rise up
Or be selfishly endowed
with the entitled and the invalids,
Despondent alike
And this lack of hope
This lack of drive
Stopped producing Americans
And created convoluted criminals
Biased and judgmental
And at the end of the day,
Refusing to step up and make a change
1

Shouting for freedom but forging chains in secret
Before our neighbors can see them
Because in this America the free, the brave,
use their freedom for everything but the good fight
And aren't brave enough to admit that somewhere,
everywhere,
Things. Aren't. Right.
We Went Wrong
in THIS America
No hypotheses, that's a FACT
Americans, men, women,
Get it through your heads
There's No. Going. Back.
The sirens scream
Mercy!
And wail, crying out for freedom
But these chains are binding
Frantically searching for a key then
Empty, blank, vacuous space
Where are the good souls left to free us
Closer
closing
Losing
loss
lost
Gabrielle Tanksley --- '17
2

3

2
Ten
Years Old
I’ve known since we were ten years old.
Since the days where I did nothing but cry,
You’d just take me in your gentle hold.
I knew I could look into your eyes of gold,
and never have to fake it or try.
I’ve known since we were ten years old.
I never had to fit in a certain mold,
Not show off to you like with another guy,
You’d just take me in your gentle hold.
We never did exactly what we were told.
Always questioning directions, always asking why.
I’ve known since we were ten years old.
With you I’d never face the harsh winter cold,
Sit in your warmth and watch the storm go by.
You’d just take me in your gentle hold.
You made me special, made me bold.
Never held me down but encouraged me to fly.
I’ve known since we were ten years old,
You’d just take me in your gentle hold.
Hannah Moore --- '16
4

Kathryn Tzivanis --- '17

Crown Molding
I think I'm rotting from the outside in
Grinning laughter, yellow teeth
give way to squishy, pulpy hearts
I can feel the green fur growing
between my ears, to block you out
Your words mean nothing to me anymore!
But my too-soft skin has white flecks showing
and flies are buzzing at my half-dried tears
If I were a fruit,
I'd throw me out
Stephanie Dushay --- '16
Standing Stone
I think I'm petrifying from the inside out
Trembling fingers, gasping sobs
cede ground to cold, unfeeling stone
I can feel the granite creeping
between my eyes, to lock me in
Your words mean nothing to me anymore!
But my too-hard heart isn't moving
and I can't remember whose bones I once was
If I were a rock,
I'd wall you in
6

Live
There’s an age old question
That has become the poster child for philosophy
And mediocrity.
Low on conversational topics?
Throw in a cup full of precociousness
With a pinch of British accent,
Mix with - What is the meaning of life?
And presto!
Instant deep thinker
Sidenote: Independent thought not included
Let’s first take a step back to question ourselves
When on heaven and hearth
(Two much disputed topics)
Do we need to delve into the meaning of life
If we have not first checked ourselves
To see if we are living?
“Life is such a precious, fleeting thing,
And we are no better than unconscious, expendable pawns,
If we let it get the best of us.”
There! That’s your blurb for this poem
In case you wanted to cut the crap and
Avoid spending the $24.99
On a coffee table ornament
You're never going to read anyways.
Sure,
Waking up,
Breathing,
And going through the motions,
Technically means that you are alive.
But when was the last time
Adrenaline charged through your veins,
When you could honestly answer the question
Are you happy?
And lived.
Sofia Liaw --- '19
7

8

Cesspool Appreciation Week
SYRACUSE, USA -- The Syracuse Board of Sentient Beings requests that we here
at the Post remind readers of their impending doom, as well as the approaching
annual Cesspool Appreciation Week. Beginning the weekend of the 18th,
Syracuse will set aside a week in remembrance and celebration of cesspools.
Cesspools, as we all know, as vital to life here in Syracuse. Where would we be
without our cesspools? Where else would we dispose of sewage, or, more
commonly, the dismembered rotting corpses of our adversaries? Where else
would we store our medieval weaponry and animal furs? What we do with our
used seal clubs and hemostatic forceps if not keep them warm in the loving
embrace of filth and rot? The fact of the matter is that we here in Syracuse need
our cesspools.
Our Cesspool Appreciation Week sponsor, the man who was in the Barney suit,
tells us why it is important that we take time to commemorate the importance of
cesspools, and their cousins, the humble cesspit.
“Cesspools are the basis of all life on earth,” he tells us, “When we are born, we
crawl, bloodied, our throbbing veins showing through our translucent skin, from
the depths of Gaia’s Great Cesspool, and when we die, we crawl back in, dripping
with primordial ooze, tuck in our talons, and sacrifice ourselves to the Fecal
Gods.”
So, come the 18th, take a few hours to perform a ritual blood sacrifice in honor of
your sect’s holiest cesspool. It is entirely possible that it will find a way to reward
you through pulsating victory palpitations.
Giovanni Antonucci --- '17
9

The Truth x4
Laugh
When inside I have criedcriedcriedcried
Try to decide whether it's better
To keep on excusing
Or to swallow this pride
Swim
Floatfloatfloatfloat
Try to decide whether I'd rather
Drown in the current or
Sail to misery on the deck of your boat
Smile
Maskmaskmaskmask
Try to decide whether or not you still love me
but
I'm too afraid to ask
Ignore
Neglectneglectneglectneglect
If happy people were a religion
You and I wouldn't qualify as a sect
Shove
The truth together we'll hidehidehidehide
Maybe some day soon
This gnawing will subside
Expect
That I'll still be aroundroundroundround
But all the while it is in your silence
That I am beginning to drown
Argue
Fightfightfightfight
Try to decide when we'll stop pretending
That you and I are right
Pretend
That I feel like myselfselfselfself
When really I'd just be an irrelevant little
knickknack
If your life were a bookshelf
Kristina Bell --- '17 10

11
Tate Horan --- '17

Ascendant
Some see but cannot watch
Some watch but do not observe
Some observe but will not see
They are the ones who are truly blind
Let us praise the Gods for their answers
Let us praise the prophets for their message
Let us praise the followers for their devotion
Let us praise them as sheep praise shepherds
Who herd them when gone astray
Why is it that people refuse change?
Why is it that people invite evil?
Why is it that people can’t accept?
Peace
Tranquility
Harmony
a picture,
a dream,
a vision of what could be.
Before the Floods come we must wash away our sins
Before the Fires rain we must burn away our flaws
Before the Gales roar we must let our minds soar
Before the Earths reap we must keep our sow
For the gates open only to The Welcomed.
When everyday is a present;
Let us not be the Descendants of the good past,
but the Ascendants of a greater future...
Muhammad Musaab --- '19
12

13
Tate Horan --- '17

Lightning: the bright flash that partners with thunder, when the clouds turn grey and shadows
are only a game our eyes play on us. Some would say high school was gone in a
lightning flash; there for only a second, gone before we could even blink. It’s the “Mississippi’s”
counted with my dad on the porch before the lightning makes its debut. Thunder and lightning
storms are something I have always looked forward to. The way thunder and lightning remain in
sync with each other all through the night and connect feelings and memories is the thing I
admire the most about nature. But if I were to choose my favorite experience with lightning, it
would be the time it surged through my body to create a feeling I had not yet experienced.
Lightning pierced my body the first time I stepped onto the track in a pair of old, beat up
trainers. The electrifying feeling was the most foreign sensation I had ever felt. It set a fire
inside of me. I heard an aggressive, booming voice that resembled thunder all too well. So, as is
tradition, the counting began.
One Mississippi . . . two Mississippi . . . three Mississippi.
Lightning had struck.
Lightning
The track became the sky and I found myself running. I stopped with sharp breaths to notice the
high school coach looking at me the way I looked at the storms on the porch with my dad. He
shouted and out came the thunder that sent me running in the first place. I was scared for no
longer than a second. I had forgotten he was thunder and I was lightning and thunder and
lightning are a team. He called me over only to ask my name, but somehow I knew a connection
had sparked. That feeling of being noticed had me hooked on running ever since.
The fascination of storms captivates people all over the world, just as the storm of running
captivates me. The energy and life the starting line brings me is the same energy and life that
happens in the sky when a storm is brewing and finally lights up. My experience with running
has taught me one key thing: ability. Being able to run with the winds and endure the different
terrains each course or track brings is something I am so proud to have been a part of in the past
5 years. Running isn’t the agony it is built up to be. Yes, some days I don’t feel my legs and I tell
myself that I am absolutely crazy for doing this sport. But the energy I feel when it’s just me and
seven other girls on the starting line makes me feel like I am lightning. I can do anything with
that energy that starts at my feet and makes its way up my legs to my heart.
Lightning has struck. I have become part of the storm that has yet to end. The storm has only
gotten stronger, with the flashes of lightning brighter than ever before. Running is much more
than moving my legs faster than a walk. Running is the feeling I get when I’m drowning in the
darkness of my bedroom and a flash illuminates the sky through the window. Running is the
feeling I get when the track is pillows of clouds and I am the light phenomenon that flashes by.
Three “Mississippi’s” is all it takes for the lightning to come, but also happens to be the
time it takes the official to say, “Runners, to your mark, set, go.”
Catherine Keane --- '16
14

15
Tate Horan --- '17

Generations
A room of shades.
My cousins in black,
some I haven’t seen in years;
my mom, somber in a long skirt,
torn black ribbon affixed above her breast pocket.
The coffin is wheeled in, squeaky on the temple floor
(she almost swatted that fly, Mom confides later -
her mother hated insects)
and we rise and sit and stand again.
The walls are filled with bodies.
Their names are written in gold
(-plated nickel)
and coins balance
against the curve of my grandmother’s ‘y’.
On the way home, Mother wipes her face,
ribbon still pinned to her jacket,
wads of tissues in her pockets. I think she’s used them all this
week.
Dad coughs in the front seat, still battling the cold
from a month ago. He didn’t want to make her leave, and she
didn’t want to tell him when to go, but we all have to sleep
and we have to be home by Tuesday.
When did I become the one
to tell us when to go?
When do I become the one
who places rocks above their names?
Stephanie Dushay --- '16
16

A Sijo
You tell me I do not smile enough, that my face is like a statue,
You never see my tongue unless it's tangled with your own.
But, dear one, why should I smile when you reward my tears with kisses?
Michale Schueler --- '18
17

Fishing : A Mock Heroic Poem
Scales of gleaming color
That even the darkness could not quench,
For its tail cast its own fire
As that monster swam through the depths.
My weapon of steel, my weapon of might,
Plunged itself into the waters
As I called that being to fight.
Each heartbeat cried for slaughter.
The moon grinned above me
With its evil, tempting smile,
As if that monster within the sea
Would present me with a heavy trial.
The tug of a line or the tug of a soul?
It mattered not. The waves themselves could not subdue
To my omnipresent strength, he was mine to control.
It was time for our history to be written anew.
With the capture there was no war,
For my cunning dexterity claimed only one victor.
The sunfish dragged upon the shore
And I was left standing, only richer.
Anna Pluff --- '16
18

Peacock
My memories are in blue and green
Maybe from the outside you see a dullness
or a small shimmer
but open the feathers of my life and the dizzying
brilliance is blinding
though there is nothing that can hide the richness
each memory pours open its richness
onto the details of your face
and can’t help but be cherished
Between the royal blue and deep green
every few quills holds a dullness
that never held that shimmer
because there are always memories of life
where the darkness is blinding
that was meant to show through your face
and just can’t help but be cherished
So once in awhile, stroke through the blue and green
and even the dullness
Allow it to shimmer
and reflect on your beautiful life
let the color be blinding
and let the wind wave the richness
right in front of your face
and know how much it is cherished
Eva Dougherty --- '17
19

Tate Horan --- '17
20

Gift
you’ve climbed to the top:
monster slain, girl won, kingdom saved
(nevermind your battle scars and the pain that comes so
suddenly)
you’ve made it, you’re the top 1%
gifted with a capital ‘G’
gifted, sure, because although you had to work for this
(that dragon didn’t kill itself, did it?)
you’ve been given a lot.
how to measure the value of you?
the mounted head on the wall, scaled lips stretching around a
snarl?
the girl, leaned against the doorframe, painted features
smirking slightly?
and then there’s yousitting
by the fire with a good book,
the gift of success running through your veins
you’re free to sit there until your bones turn to dust,
until the world forgets that there ever was a dragon
you’re free to leave, but of course there’s no need
the man who killed a dragon and got everything he’d ever
wanted
and never took up a sword again
or felt the exhilaration of battle race through his bloodstream
no- that exhilaration, replaced by the gift of success and safety
Helen Ferrick --- '16
[Gift, German for poison]
21

Time
It flits by with the speed of a hummingbird.
Ninety times per second
Times that by sixty and that by twenty-four.
And they have been living and beating those tiny wings
One hundred twenty thousand six hundred times-
And they keep fighting and going and drinking the sweet nectar
Of lily-flowers and
Time.
The mantle beneath us churns with it,
Scorches our skins, incinerating us
With its massive power and great gray and blue heart and
Time.
Time which tick tick ticks on our faces,
Wrinkling, creasing, folding like a thousand origami swans. And maybe time
Takes its toll on everything.
Us. The hummingbird.
The sun will expand and swallow the Earth someday.
And then go on on on without us.
Michale Schueler --- '18
22

Sandboxes and
Prisms
Technically speaking they used to be children
but life became more like the ocean
and less like their backyards, pushing and pulling
pushing and pulling them
into the deep
deeply changing the shape of their minds
making the world more like a prism
and less like a sphere
deep
now their hair is wet and
so are their feet
feet that just learned to walk
pushed to fly
flying with what they had always looked up to see
seeing that their youth was stolen
they cry
they cry for their sand box playmates Childhood
and Innocence that stopped holding their hands
hands that made castles of sand make weapons now
now the robbed children hurt each other
others become familiar things
and things become indecipherable
when they are bent by prisms.
Nothing is the same because you can’t
unsee something, anything
you cannot unlearn something
something has changed
change is good
but badly in need of a constant
imagine being robbed
by the world that welcomed you in
23

to a world where there are no sandboxes
boxes and people are lost in quicksand
quick to become tombstones and return to earth
a funny place
placed so eloquently in the sky floating
and spinning floating and
spinning us around
and around we go
going nowhere
what a design
designed to teach you
that no one can stop this mass in the sky
from spinning
from stopping
So stop stopping then
because then your youth was taken
and now it is gone
gone were the days where you knew nothing
but what your eyes greeted in the morning
but it’s morning time to wake
up and smell to roses.
Yes darkness outshines the morning
in the evening but the sun never stops
raising
so rise like the sun.
Afua Addo --- '16
24

Destiny
i believe it's destiny
our books were written
before we entered this place
our regrets won't erase
our wrongs won't fade
they are written in pen
and things can't change
love is love
and hate is hate
hope is hope
and dreams are late
Aygul Amurlaveya --- '17
25

Meeting His Parents
(Lights go up in the livingroom of Ethel and George Wright, parents of Kevin
Wright, a sophomore at Georgetown University. As the lights come up, Ethel is
busy preparing snacks on the coffee table and is waiting the arrival of her son and
his new girlfriend, Caitlyn, to arrive home for Thanksgiving break. The doorbell
rings.)
ETHEL. Sammy! My baby's here! (ETHEL goes over to answer the door.)
KEVIN. (While hugging his mother, as she repeatedly kisses him on both cheeks,
and goes on and on about how she missed him so much.) Haha. Hi mom. This is
Caitlyn.
CAITLYN. Hello, Mrs.Wright. It's nice to meet you. (Extends her hand to greet
ETHEL.)
ETHEL. Lovely to meet you, too, dear. Come! Sit down and enjoy some snacks.
(The two follow ETHEL, bags in hand, to the sofa.) Kevvy, take your bags upstairs
and say hello to Sammy and Jack while you're at it. They've been talking about
how much they miss their big college brother!(ETHEL smiles warmly and KEVIN
awkwardly hauls the large bags off SR, tripping several times. CAITLYN and
ETHEL sit down on the sofa.)
CAITLYN. Oh! I didn't realize Kev had younger brothers!
ETHEL. Oh, no honey. They're not biologically related. Just pals!
CAITLYN. Kevin has some friends staying here this weekend, as well?
ETHEL. Nope! They live here year round.
CAITLYN. Oh. Kevin didn't mention that. When will I get to meet them?
ETHEL. Soon. They're napping now. (ETHEL picks up a picture of two cats in
pumpkin costumes from the side table.) This is them! On Halloween.
CAITLYN. (Confused.) They're cats?
ETHEL. Shh. They don't know that.
CAITLYN. What?
ETHEL. Oh, surely Kevin must've mentioned to you my profession. I'm a certified
whisperer.
CAITLYN. You're a cat whisperer? Didn't you get your PhD from Georgetown?
ETHEL. Yep! PhD in the art of Catacommunication.
CAITLYN. So, you like, talk to cats?
ETHEL. Oh no, honey! Not quite. I speak on behalf of them. You see, felines are
often misrepresented in society. They're understood as being quiet, moody
individuals who don't necessarily have a lot to say. But let me tell you, can some of
them gab! Haha!
CAITLYN. (Looking very confused and suddenly realizing how many pictures of
cats litter the living room as she looks around.) Are these all your...patients?
ETHEL. Yes, they are! In fact, my little KevDev shares the same gift. He can
converse with those little buggers in four different languages! Haha! The most
easily interpreted is Mandarin.
CAITLYN. (Looking worried and stunned.) Wow...Impressive...
26

ETHEL. Let me show ya to the gang! (Gets up and starts going to each of the
pictures, telling CAITLYN the names and stories of each cat. All the while,
CAITLYN stares at her in disbelief, looking slightly queasy.)
KEVIN. (Entering from SR.) Mom, are you scaring her? Haha. (ETHEL and KEVIN
look at CAITLYN.)
CAITLYN. (Nervously.) Oh no! Not at all.
ETHEL. Well, I'm going to go start dinner. (She stands up.) Let me know if you two
love birds need anything!
(ETHEL'S cell phone rings and she answers it.) Felix?... You remember what I told
you, now... You can either run from the past or you can learn from it… (She exits
SL and KEVIN sits down next to CAITLYN on the couch, putting his arm around
her.)
KEVIN. (Noticing CAITLYN'S furrowed look.) Babe, relax. Everything is going to
be fine. My parents will love you. (Kissing the top of her head.) My mom already
does. I can tell. (CAITLYN smiles and knods.) Dad!
GEORGE. (Entering in a work suit and briefcase from SR. His tie sports little cats
on it in a subtle way.) Hey, Bud! Good to see ya! (KEVIN and GEORGE embrace.)
Now, who is this fine piece of female?
KEVIN. Dad, this is Caitlyn. Caitlyn, this is my dad, George.
CAITLYN. (Getting up to give GEORGE a handshake.) Nice to meet you Mr.- (Her
handshake is interrupted when GEORGE embraces her in an uncomfortable hug
that lasts a little too long.)
GEORGE. Caitlyn, we're practically family. I mean, come on! If my son ever gets
over his stifling commitment issues and pops the question, we will be! Haha. LOL,
you should've heard what his last girlfriend said about him. They were dating for
almost two whole years and not once did he ever want to talk about the future. We
were all so concerned. For a while there, we thought little Kevin liked other little
Kevins more than he liked little Jessicas! (GEORGE laughs hysterically, followed
by an awkward pause. GEORGE clears his throat.) Call me George.
CAITLYN.(Nervously laughing.) Okay, George.
GEORGE. (Suddenly very serious.) Who do you think you are, you entitled little
brat? Call me Mr.Wright like a respectful young woman. (Awkward silence.
GEORGE starts laughing hysterically.) I'm joking! You need to get a sense of
humor! (Another awkward pause.) Hey, what did the blonde say when she opened
the box of Cheerios?
KEVIN. What?
GEORGE. Ooh! Donut seeds!! (KEVIN and GEORGE laugh hysterically, while
CAITLYN stands looking hurt.) How did the blonde try and kill the bird?
KEVIN. How?
GEORGE. By throwing it off a cliff! (The two laugh hysterically again, and
CAITLYN rolls her eyes.)
GEORGE. (Noticing her blonde hair.) Ohh. That's awkward.
27

ETHEL. (Entering SL with a tray of fruit, including grapes. CAITLYN and KEVIN sit
next to one another, and GEORGE sits in an armchair next to the couch. After
prepping everything, ETHEL sits right in between CAITLYN and KEVIN.) Kevvy, do
you want some grapes?
KEVIN. (Excitedly, clearly loving being babied.) Sure! (ETHEL puts a bib on
KEVIN and then takes some grapes and starts cutting them in half for him. She
then takes a fork and feeds them to him, "Here comes the train!" style. Then
suddenly, KEVIN starts to choke. GEORGE rushes over after a few seconds and
starts giving him the Heimlich Maneuver. All the while, KEVIN looks like a cat
choking up a hairball. After a few seconds of GEORGE awkwardly performing
abdominal thrusts, a grape comes flying out. Clearly exasperated, everyone sits
back down. CAITLYN is stunned.)
KEVIN. (Coughing.) Hairball.
ETHEL. (Suddenly nervous from her son's choking.) Kevvy Cat, you have to learn
how to chew your food or it doesn't get to make it to that little tummy wummy.
(Pats KEVIN'S back and sits back down.)
Oh my goodness. George, did you even wash your hands when you walked
through the door?
GEORGE. (Getting down to his knees on the floor near CAITLYN.) Better late than
never. (GEORGE begins licking his hands disgustingly so that the sound of his
licking is clearly audible.)
CAITLYN. (Horrified, while seeking protection from the couch.) Woah, what's he
doing?! (GEORGE suddenly looks up.)
GEORGE. Squeaky clean!
ETHEL. (Standing up, taking the tray of food back to the kitchen.) Let me go
check on that fish! (Walks off SL.)
CAITLYN. Kevin, I want to go upstairs. I'm not feeling well.
GEORGE. (Cutting in.) Caitlyn, Caitlyn, you're doing fine. This is all new to you.
Just take a breath. Hey Sport, maybe later, we'll get to show her the morgue!
CAITLYN. (Fearing for her life.) What? Did you say, "morgue?"
GEORGE. (ETHEL re-enters.) Yep! My little cuddle kitty over there is partnered
with the local animal hospital. They needed a place to store those little peasants
before they buried 'em, so we figured, "Why not our very own family home?!" Just
a warning though, the basement smells like death.
ETHEL. (Ripping off her apron and revealing a t-shirt that has a drawing of a dead
dog and the words, "Home Is Where Animals Come to Decay...Support Cliffside
Animal Clinic!") We even made t-shirts to support the building of the morgue
itself! Yes, they're a little graphic, but then again, so are we! Haha. I still can't
believe we pulled it off. (Noticing the look of horror on CAITLYN'S face and
quickly changing the subject.) Aww. (Sitting down next to KEVIN and cleaning
him up a bit.) My little Kevvy is the sweetest little thing. (Whispering to
CAITLYN.) It's really too bad that he still wets the bed. Prevents him from healthy
societal interaction.
KEVIN. (Turning red with embarrassment.) That was only three times!
28

GEORGE. So Caitlyn, what do you want to do as a profession?
CAITLYN. (Recovering from all that just happened.) Umm. I think I want to go into
elementary education. Right now I'm majoring in English, so I'll probably get my
Master's in that, and then get my license.
GEORGE. Oh.
CAITLYN. (Now getting defensive.) Is there something wrong with that?
GEORGE. No, not at all! Just, you know what they say. Those who can't do, teach.
(Awkward pause.) Caitlyn, tell us about your family.
CAITLYN. Well, I'm originally from Pennsylvania. My dad works with the Erie
Insurance Group and my mom stays at home to take care of my little sister.
GEORGE. (In a disgusted manner.) She doesn't have a job?
CAITLYN. No, someone has to take care- (She is interrupted by ETHEL.)
ETHEL. Caitlyn, aren't you happy for my little Kevaloo? Finally realizing his true
potential and going after his dreams!
CAITLYN. Oh, I didn't realize he declared a major. What is it?
ETHEL. Catacommunication! I'm so proud! (ETHEL and KEVIN laugh as she dotes
on him joyfully.)
GEORGE. (Choked up, he gets up to shake his son's hand.) Boy, son. I sure am
proud of you.
ETHEL. That reminds me! We forgot to call Grandma and tell her! She'll be
ecstatic! Come on, George! (The two leave, and GEORGE blows his nose
obnoxiously on the way out.)
CAITLYN. (Standing up.) Kevin, I thought you were going into accounting.
KEVIN. Yeah...about that...
CAITLYN. Who even are you? You didn't even tell me you declared a major. Let
alone one in freaking talking to cats! And your father has the audacity to insinuate
to me that my profession is stupid? Yeah, right. Because, the last time I checked,
talking to humans makes a lot more sense than talking to cats.
KEVIN. He wasn't insinuating-
CAITLYN. Yes, he was. And your mother. She cuts your food and feeds it to you!
What? Does she write your name in your underwear, too? Is that why you won't
tell me who you took to prom? Was it her, Kevin? (KEVIN is silent.)
You bring me here to your morgue with your cats and your mother and your father,
who clearly needs to think before he makes jokes, and you expect me to, what?
Like you more? Well, you're mistaken. I'm leaving. I don't know exactly what my
future holds at this moment, but I'm going to do everything in my power to ensure
it's not this. (She walks off SR.)
KEVIN. (Chasing after her, but not to the point where he's offstage.) Wait!
Caitlyn! Don't go! (Walking back in and letting a few moments pass until calling
off SR.) Don't think I don't know about your secret!
CAITLYN. (Hurrying back in from SR skeptically.) What secret?
KEVIN. Your hobby.
29

CAITLYN. (Looking embarrassed.) How'd you know about that?
KEVIN. (Smiling.) Your mom told me.
CAITLYN. Don't judge me.
KEVIN. Caitlyn, you put pugs in tutus and choreograph acro jazz routines for them.
And, don't tell me you've only done it one time, either. Because I know that every
Thursday when you tell me you're going to the gym, you're in the library. How do I
know that, you ask? Well first, if you look in the student handbook, it says, "Pugs
Not Drugs Club...President Caitlyn Bigelow." And second, because I myself go to
the gym every Thursday and you're never there.
CAITLYN. What's your point?
KEVIN. The point is that I love you anyway. I'm standing here ready to accept you
for what you are, pugs and all, and yet you deny me for what I am. Yes, my family is
weird and overbearing. Yes, my mother treats me like I'm three years old. But,
they're not bad people...just a little odd. And, I love you, Caitlyn. I think you're
beautiful and smart and I just want you to give me more opportunities to let me
show you how much I care for you...I just wish you'd accept me the way I do you.
CAITLYN. I don't talk to animals about their midlife crisis, Kevin.
KEVIN. Caitlyn, I'm not going to be a cat whisperer.
CAITLYN. You aren't?
KEVIN. No. I just said that to make my mom happy. She's here alone a lot. I feel
bad for her.
CAITLYN. Oh.
KEVIN. But you know what I will be?
CAITLYN. What?
KEVIN. In love with you for the rest of my life and whatever's after that. (CAITLYN
embraces KEVIN. GEORGE and ETHEL walk in.)
ETHEL. Aww. I love true love.
GEORGE. You know what I love? YOU.
ETHEL. (Looking at him passionately.) Kiss me, you fool!
(The two kiss passionately on SL.CAITLYN and KEVIN chuckle and then kiss on
SR. Lights go down.)
Kristina Bell --- '17
30

Jamesville-DeWitt High School
DeWitt, New York
Cover Image "GOLD", Kathryn Tzvanis