Young Writers Society

THE ORANGE COUNTY

REGISTER

Monday - June 27th, 2000

El Toro Air Base to Begin Transformation

(Bellow Left, former El Toro Marine Corps Air Station 1943, right present day construction)

(Graphic Missing) (Graphic Missing)

By Richard Betts – This historic former Marine Corps Air Station has been dead center of heated debate regarding its future since it’s decommissioning in 1999. Now, settled in the midst of the growing suburban sprawl that is South Orange County, the El Toro Reuse and Planning Authority (ETRPA), has emerged victorious in its battle to officially convert the airfield into a community park. For the last few months, outrage and legal turmoil has arose over what this historic site would transform into once completely abandoned, however- Cont’d on (A-2)

Early Election Poll Baffling

(Bellow, June 2000 Poll Results*, Right, Rep. Front Runner Sen. Charles Smith)

(Graphic Missing)(Graphic Missing)

A.B. Fowler – It seems like yesterday when out of left field, some no name Senator from Utah, Charles B. Smith, threw his hat into the ring for the presidential race. Amidst strong opposition from both the Democratic and Republican parties, Smith has gained a substantial foothold in the 2000 presidential race in an incredulously small period of time. Additionally, despite being a well-accomplished Senator on paper, both parties are scrambling to find out exactly where this senator stands, and if he is the right pick– (Cont’d on C-2)

Local Scouts Aid Community Park

(Graphic Missing)

(Left, Scouts from O.C. Boy Scout Troop 197 at Former El Toro Air Base)

L.P. Richardson – During the ground breaking ceremony for the new OC Great Park, Troop 197 aided in planting the first trees for the 1,375 acre park and recreation facility. Recently acquired by the ETRPA this last Monday, the Scouts including; Marshal Summerland–

(Cont’d on E-1)

Low Place Like Home

- Written By: Matthew B. Morrell -

Chapter 1 – July 29th, 2000

Downtown traffic was horrendous, visible by the record breaking heat wave summoning little heat ripples off the tops of stagnate cars, suggesting the sun were roasting every passenger and driver alive in their cramped metal coffins. It wasn’t just the heat or traffic that made the allusion to hell frightfully tangible; it was the situation.

Marshal Summerland was eleven years old, and like Persephone of Greek Legend, spent most of the year in beautiful Southern California with his mom, and other parts of the year with his dad in Dallas, Texas. Personally, Marshal preferred Dallas. Despite the climate aspects of Texas more closely resembling hell, he felt California gave off an unsettling social vibe: plastic. Today however, Dallas had begun to take the lead in unsettling environments, thanks largely to his current situation.

Today was Marshal’s father’s wedding.

Pulling at his tux as if it were a straight jacket Marshal were trying to escape, he asked his father“, so, who is this person you’re marrying anyway?”

“Marshal, you’ve known Ms. Garner for three weeks now.”

“Dad, you’ve known Ms. Garner for three weeks now.”

Marshal’s dad took a deep breath. His eyes remained locked on the bumper of the car in front of him. “Tux looks good on you Scout. You look like Bond, James Bond.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“When we get to the church, can I sit in the pew with the ejector seat?”

---

Unfortunately Marshal did not sit in the ejector seat pew; and not because an ejector seat pew wasn’t realistic, but because the wedding took place in a courthouse. Marshal didn’t know that was even possible. Then again, it was the first wedding he had attended.

The young boy couldn’t tell if it was the soul sucking florescent lights, stale coffee smell, or the fold up metal chair he was sitting in that completely ruined this summer with his father. It was probably a combination of everything. Even when the marriage finished, Marshal knew he couldn’t exhale his frustration, his anger, or his confusion either. There would be another two weeks to go till he returned home, of which he was certain; things could only get worse until then.

As much as Marshal didn’t know about weddings, he did however deduce that apparently they weren’t taken very seriously. Why go through all this trouble of dressing up if you’re just going to get married again to somebody else later? It didn’t even seem to be an enjoyable event for those getting married. As the judge rambled on up front, both Marshal’s dad and this other woman just starred at each other if they had each just met. This was not far from the truth… at least, to the best of Marshal’s knowledge.

Marshal continued to watch as the judge lethargically lifted his head up to the audience of twenty or so folks to ask“, if anyone here objects to this union speak now, or forever hold your peace. ”

Marshal quietly raised his hand, but the judge continued on regardless. Poking his palm, Marshal checked to make sure he hadn’t become invisible, or intangible. Neither being so, he deduced that apparently his opinion simply didn’t matter.

---

Shining example of things getting worse: the reception that immediately followed the wedding clearly served the sole purpose of twisting the knife of discomfort further into Marshal. There wasn’t even a chance to transition from a bad mood to a worse mood. Elevator music played dimly in the hotel lobby restaurant as the boy’s temper continued to boil at the round table with his recently acquired stepfamily.

To Marshal’s immediate right, playing on a grey brick known as a Nintendo Game Boy, was William; two years older but not yet discernibly wiser. Next to William were the twins, Jake and Denny. Two years younger, Jake had more ketchup on his plate than actual food, and Denny had arranged his uneaten entrée into organized, untouched piles. Ms. Garner sat quietly beside her sons, occasionally lifting a fork to her mouth but never biting into the food on the end of it. Finally rounding out the uneven table of strangers is Marshal’s dad, who happily finished his meal and wiped his mouth.

Tapping his glass, Marshal’s dad then stood declaring“, Ladies and Gentleman, friends, and new family, I have an announcement to make. ” Ambient chatter softened as all eyes beamed towards the new groom. “As you know family is very important to me.”

“Tonight’s toast will be presented by Greg Summerland’s Life Model Decoy,” whispered Marshal into his napkin.

“It’s important to stay close to family. Therefore, next summer, we will be moving to St. Charles, Missouri, so that the Garner family and Summerland family can be closer together, as family should be.”

The weak applause is enough to drown out Marshal’s abrupt cry of “WHAT?”

---

Everything began moving exceptionally fast for Marshal after that. Suddenly, the boy found himself being rushed outside with the rest of the crowd waving goodbye and wishing luck to the newly wed strangers.

Calling out over the noise, Marshal shouted“, Dad!”

His father turned to give a rushed“; I’ll see you Tuesday morning Marshal. Be good for Ms. Adams and don’t pick a fight with Jake or Denny, and-”

“Dad, I don’t know any of those people!”

Mr. Summerland knelt down and placed a bear sized hand on Marshal’s shoulder “, Scout, it’s only going to be two nights and then it’s right back to working on that US History Badge. Everything is going to be alright, okay?”

“Everything changed in the last two hours, how is everything going to be alright?”

Marshal’s dad simply sighed and gave his boy a pat on the back before turning to face his new wife. There was a moment of eye contact between Ms. Garner, and Marshal. Nothing was said. She simply entered the town car with Marshal’s dad climbed in after. The door closed, the crowd cheered, and Marshal was left alone.

---

The television in the background was garbled white noise to Marshal. The young boy continued to stare out the window looking onto the front lawn of the Garner house. In a moment, headlights would illuminate the driveway, and Marshal’s dad would come bounding in through the front door declaring“, I’ve made a huge mistake, let’s get the hell out of here!” Any moment now… at least, that’s what Marshal kept telling himself.

Behind him in the expansive living room, watching a television so big four to five Marshal’s could easily fit in, the stepbrothers stared ahead entranced by the hectic glow.

“Marshal, why don’t you come over here an’ watch some Texas Ranger with us?” coughed out a voice whose diet must have included four to five packs of cigarettes a day.

“There’s no room on the couch,” whined Jake.

“He doesn’t have to sit on the couch,” Denny retorted.

After a moments pause, William chimed in with“; I wonder where he would sit?”

Marshal looked down, clutching his TWA boarding pass“; seat C-21 is where.”

The end credits began to roll on the television. Ms. Adams slowly eased herself up from the deeply compressed couch cushion and bellowed“, Nine O’clock, all boys to bed.” To this the rest of the boys grumbled about, but none the less complied. Marshal silently passed by all the boys heading up stairs to their rooms and shuffled toward the television. About half way up the stairs, the boys all turned, and watched with curiosity as Marshal turned on the power to the VCR player.

Removing the tape from its box, Marshal pushed a copy of You Only Live Twice into the player and sat back on the couch. He’s met with curious resistance as Ms. Adams loomed over the young boy. “All boys to bed means you too, Marshal.”

“What if he ain’t a boy?” yelled Jake.

“Jake you git to bed before I put you in bed, ya hear?”

Jake runs along, but Ms. Adams turns around to find Marshal already reclining on the couch watching the opening gun-barrel scene. “Son, Ms. Garner gave me orders to have all ya’ll in bed by nine and that’s what‘s goanna happen.”

“But it’s Saturday.”

Taken aback“, yeah, what about it?”

“Saturday night is James Bond night.”

Utterly confused, Ms. Adams coughs out that“, a Saturday night is Saturday night son, and this Saturday night you’re supposed to be in bed at nine.”

Marshal turned his head up towards the hulking woman“, First of all, I don’t have a bed here, and second, for the last four years of my life, Saturday nights are the nights my dad and I watch James Bond. Tonight is Saturday night, and I’m watching James Bond!”

Moments Later, Marshal’s dead weight body is carried up the main stairs, past the boy’s rooms, up the attic stairs, and tossed into a queen sized bed in an unfamiliar room. As Ms. Adams held the same body mass of a Soviet Weight Lifter, this was an easy task for her. In any other circumstance, Marshal would have fought his way back down stairs, using the skills acquired from his Karate Merit Badge to incapacitate the baby sitter, and reclaim the television. Tonight, Marshal was currently using all his strength to keep from crying, from screaming, and combusting into a man unfit to be looked upon by his father.

A few hours passed, all the while with Marshal still securely burying his face in his pillow. He used the back of his clenched fist to dry his eyes before sitting up on the bed. Taking deep breaths, the boy surveyed his surroundings. To his surprise, everything from his dad’s apartment from the bed, to the wooden chess table, even the green 70’s desk lamp had found its way into the attic. Marshal was especially relieved to find his hiking backpack in the room; quickly going through the contents to make sure whoever moved his stuff didn’t steal anything. Fortunately, all was accounted for.

Another hour passed of Marshal starring out his window, looking down upon the darkened driveway. He took another deep breath. Marshal was done waiting and watching everything change. It was time to act.

Walking over to his bed, Marshal quickly opened his hiking pack and changed into his Scout Uniform. Strapping on his pack, and adjusting his USMC beret, Marshal carefully made his way down the stairs. Before opening the attic door, Marshal slung his pack around to his front and unzipped the side pouch: empty. Marshal frowns and readjusted the pack over to his back. He’d have to restock before his hike.

Moments later, Marshal had successfully crept his way down the main stairs and across the dark marble foyer. Slowly, the boy pushed open the door to the kitchen and stepped inside. Searching through the moon lit kitchen, roughly the same size of his dad’s apartment, Marshal managed to find and enter the pantry. Combing the shelves, the boy grabbed a box of POP’s Cereal, stuffing it into his pack.

Swiftly heading to the sliding glass door leading from the kitchen to the backyard, Marshal took a moment’s pause; the door was already ajar. Fists up and at the ready, The Scout carefully scanned the yard to see if the coast was clear. With a deep breath, the boy sprinted out the door, rounding the side yard towards the fence. He’s nearly free when…

“Leaving already?”

Marshal puts his back against the wall, left fist up to guard and right fist ready to strike. No one’s there. The voice called again“, where do you plan on going?”

Looking up on top of an old wooden gazebo rotting away in the center of the backyard, Marshal spied William manning a telescope. Marshal responded coldly“, I’m going home.”

“Where is that exactly?”

“California.”

“Fortunately for you, that’s not very far away.”

Marshal’s skeptical glare can’t be seen by William, but the tone is clear regardless as he sneers“, far enough away from you people.”

“Nothing is truly far enough away. This world keeps getting smaller all the time. It’s science.”

“Well, you got one thing right; this place is too small for me.” With that, Marshal unlatched the gate and disappeared into the night.

William broke his concentration from his telescope for only a moment to watch the gate slam shut, after which he shrugged, and returned to gazing up into the stars.

---

As midnight approached, Ms. Adams is startled by the sound of the sliding glass door closing in the kitchen. She rubbed her eyes and lift her head off the couch looking up to the main staircase. She squints at William lugging his telescope case back to his room.

“William, what do you think you’re doin’ up at this hour?”

“Looking for anomalies in space… for school… for science.”

“Where the other boys at?”

“James and Denny are still awake wrestling in their room.”

“Oh, good.” Ms. Adams rests her head back down on the couch.

“Oh, and Marshal took off about a half hour ago for the Love Airfield in Dallas. He took the rest of the cereal with him too.”