Young Writers Society

Beginning again:

"Eric where've you been?" That had been the first question my uncle asked that night as I entered our local bar, the Capshaw rose. I resisted my previous whereabouts to him while Kate pull my drink, wrapping my fingers around the respiring glass, I draw lines through the condensation.

"This woman uncle wanted a lift acrloss the lake" I explained taking my usual seat across from him, the bar had its same low buzz of full on alcoholics and aspiring ones, I was neither.

"What kind of reasoning does a woman have wanting a lift across the lake this time of night?" He questioned, this was the second of the night. I shrugged.

"unattended business uncle", "unattended business why nobody's ever..." A small moment of recollection occurred before I broke the silence, "no body's ever what uncle ?" I questioned, he coughed stumbling on his words "I...I urn son what was this lasses name?" This was the 3rd and maybe most important answer of the night "I didn't get a last but she said her name was Evelyn" and at that point the pub went silent.

"Welcome to Capshaw" that's that first

thing she noticed when entering the estranged town, the sign was painted white with surrounding appearances of the rotten wood bellow from where the paint was chipping, but the faded green lettering was still visible to a certain extent. Her heels made an odd sound that could be deciphered as a clicking among the sound of the old harbour, there was a hole at the end of the harbour from when they'd fallen that summer, she smirked it's different now.

Today was the 1st November 2005

Shed reached her destination by 12 , and the brisk night air was hold no favours to her exposed legs as she walked up the path to the house.

The house by the lake

The house had stood wallowing in its own self-pity for as long as She could remember, when Malcome nor She nor any of the Capshaw residents had taken it upon them selfs to venture to this particular houses yielding point as to a fear of being stranded there at high tide. It wasn't that it was an ugly house, it was quite the opposite really, a rustic white panelling protected the gem that sat about the water, a wooden porch to the side outback that joined to the ever going path that followed through the wood somewhere back to Capshaw; the lake defended into the front land of the house where the pine trees lay forever intertwining with the bluish green water bellow. The front of the houses left side was covered in ivy, making it impossible to see into the bottom floor Windows but she didn't care.

It was shaped like a large L with the front door descending to the corner of where houses parts joined. The house was relatively empty when she had first ventured to the estranged building as a child, now wasn't much different.

Reaching the door her hand disappeared under a plant pot to the left of the welcome rug now white with frost, reappearing with an oddly shaped thing, she jiggled the objected in the key hole of the hole lifting it to the right before it opened. The whole house was covered in the stuff dust that is with white sheets covering all furniture in sight. The strong smell of lavender still overcame any essences of alcohol she had managed to consume on her trip over here. She sighed running a hand over her wind dragged hair, the tick of the clock on the mantle filled the room, which was fairly useless considering the old thing had been stuck on the same time since that day, and how it was still running she would never know. She reached for a light switch, and as the light came on all of their past was revealed.

Welcome to Capshaw:

Change. the sheer novelty of it is nauseating, a surrogate to the imagination that fuels us with false pretences , ideas in which implant into the very soul of us, we can't let go; not again, and the hope, however, flawed and provocative it may be it binds us, we begin to live a false reality that even in our wildest dreams and deepest of fantasies we seek comfort in. Because sometimes that's easier than letting go, the addiction holds us we believe we were working to the unchangeable when really we were trying to remove our self from the unacceptable.

She knew that now even as she stood in front of the grave, once riddled with roses She saw the truth of all that had come in this lifetime that all the years spent running and fixing was really just me contradicting the inevitable truth, that this time he nor I nor they could fix what had happened what had been done; what they had left broken but what She had shattered. I'm beginning to find my old self the poetic broken record sob story type, you hear it to right? Anyway if you don't you probably will once I've explained, right ? Okay.

Capshaw Bay Alaska , an arguable settlement between both remote and tiny, is a town located on the Kosciusko Island. when planning a visit you are advised to bring everything you would need for a "remote outdoor experience " . But what is to be expected when the whole town has 98 permanent residents, who are mostly loggers or fishermen. There is the other town of Garma a mere 5 miles across the island but unfortunately is a similar small settlement, which had contained 103 people at its most populated, 40 years ago. The nearest town apart from that is Pentswood, 31 miles away in a straight line. But when you're dealing with icy waterways, there isn't much in the way of straight lines. So you are basically stuck here and last of every month if lucky when Danny does his fly by to salvation.

The town is labeled as completely insane and a radical, which is fairly credible until you meet the barbaric gorilla men and their church bleeding housewives who inhabit it, along with their half-wit children; which wrap up to make the island a full on crack head filled, wild animal roamed; psych house.

But its home.

Our home .

When She was little her mother would tell her stories, one in which will forever be embedded in her mind, called the story of Sleeping Lady, this has traveled by word of mouth throughout the region since at least the 1930's. The source of the original story is unknown. But the folktales has been retold thousands of times. But one she would never forget the words of this story in which Her mother had resighted on her death bed.

Once, long ago in Alaska, there lived a race of giant people along the shores of Capshaw.

The land then was warm and covered with fruit trees of every kind.

Wooly mammoths and saber-toothed tigers roamed the forests and beaches but did not harm the gentle Inlet people.

Peace and happiness ruled the land.

Especially happy were a young man named Nekatla and a young woman named Susitna, for they were in love and soon to be married.

As the wedding day neared, the Inlet people eagerly prepared for the celebration. But the day before the wedding a stranger burst into the village. "Danger!" he cried.

"Warriors from the north are coming! They roam from village to village, killing people, stealing from them, and burning their homes!"

"Stranger, how do you know this?" someone asked. The man's face clouded with pain.

"They have destroyed my village, my family...everything," he answered. "Only I escaped. Beware, these people are cruel and crazed for blood!"

All plans for the wedding were forgotten.

The villagers gathered in council. First, one person spoke then another. Some thought they should quickly fashion weapons and attack the warriors. Others thought they should prepare to fight the warriors when they came to the village. Still, others wanted to hide in the forest until the warriors passed them by.

Nekatla and Susitna listened in silence their hearts deeply troubled.

After everyone had spoken, Nekatla rose.

"I, too, have an idea," he began. "But I do not know if there are people here brave enough to go with me. I say this: I will not fight these people and neither should you. We have few weapons, for we gave up the ways of war long ago. We've learned a better way, which is peace." Many of the people nodded their heads in agreement.

"Continue," the elders encouraged him.

"I will not run away from this danger, for then the warriors will kill much more. This is my proposal: we travel north to meet them. We convince them to lay down their weapons and live in peace. We will carry gifts rather than weapons so they'll have no reason to attack us. "And I am willing to go first." It was a bold plan but the people agreed to it. All the men of the village would go. Immediately everyone began preparing for the dangerous journey north. By morning, the men were ready to leave. Sadly, Susitna and Nekatla said goodbye on a hill above the village where they had spent many hours together.

"We will be married as soon as I return," promised Nekatla. "I will wait for you at this very spot," answered Susitna.

Susitna watched thoughtfully, hopefully, until the forms of the men disappeared into the forested mountains.

Susitna made ready to wait. She ran back to the village for her needles, knife, and baskets, then busied herself gathering nuts and berries.

On the second day she tired of gathering fruit, so she cut roots and grasses to weave into baskets. This task amused her for many hours, but eventually she tired of making baskets, too.

Susitna spent the third-day sewing, for she was too weary to gather fruit and cut grasses. Yet she could not sleep, wondering if the men had succeeded in their mission.

Perhaps Nekatla would return at any moment!

But many days and nights went by, each more slowly than the last. Finally, Susitna could no longer pick berries, weave baskets, or even sew. "I will lie down just for a moment," she said finally.

And she fell fast asleep. While Susitna slept, word of a terrible battle reached her village. "Nekatla was brave." reported a boy who had escaped. "He led our men to meet with the warriors. But as he and their leader were about to speak, someone threw a spear! Their men set upon ours and we fought until all our men were dead or dying, and many of theirs, too." The women and children wept to hear the names of the fathers, sons, and brothers they had lost.

When the women went to tell Susitna the terrible news, they couldn't bear to wake her from such peaceful sleep. Let her rest, they decided. Why break her heart any sooner than we must? And they wove a blanket of soft grasses and wildflower blossom, which they gently laid over her. May Susitna always dream of her lover, they prayed.

That night all warmth and joy left the village. As the air grew colder and colder, Susitna settled more deeply into sleep.

All around her, the fruit trees froze and died, falling like the men in battle.

The tears of the villagers gathered into clouds and, in the chill air, returned to earth as Alaska's first snowfall.

The snow fell slowly at first, one flake at a time, but soon it filled the sky, spreading thickly across the entire land.

For seven days and nights the snow fell, until Susitna and all her people lay beneath a blanket of shimmering white.

Days passed into years and years into hundreds and thousands of years.

For a few months each summer, warmth returned to the land, allowing birch trees and spruce and willow to grow.

Grizzly bears, moose, and other new animals appeared, taking the place of the old. After a long time a new race of humans, smaller than the first, came to stay.

Today Susitna still sleeps through the seasons, dreaming of Nekatla.

If you look across Capshaw in the winter, you can see her covered by a snowy quilt.

In summer, you see her resting beneath a green and flowered blanket.

It is said that when the people of war change their ways peace rules the earth, Nekatla will return.

Then Susitna, the Sleeping Lady, will awake.

She Had always had my suspicions of this story just as She had of the people of this town, but none of the events that had occurred in her short and likely uneventful 32 years had prepared her for this.

15 year 11 months 48 minutes and 32 seconded, prior.

Delivery:

She was named Evelyn Grey Capshaw.

Capshaw Bay Alaska, her hometown since; well forever. The town was founded in 1649 as an escape from the world outside of Capshaw and with 8 generations down now we are stuck; her Farther Malcolm. J .Capshaw is the ever running mayor of our small town but running a tight ship of 59 and counting doesn't come without its consequences. She had died when Evelyn was 13 and her father or at least the man we had known him as was never seen again. Still, at 31 She cannot pinpoint the exact point in which her father had disappeared to be replaced by this imposter but she guessed it was around the same time I met iris

It was May 15th, 1989 and ever since she could remember she had always held a strong dislike to water and everything about it really its cold, wet a complete death trap, unfortunately, living on an island that was surrounded by the stuff and also held an overly large quantity of the substances there wasn't really a lot of room for adjustment. Lake Quinto is 130 acres and the path around it originally measured 2.5 miles .

In places, the lake was 25 feet deep, with the average depth being about 10 feet . When first constructed, it was capable of holding 400 million of water; and is a centerpiece of our town, originally built as the main water source for the island, but was developed as a tourist resort from the 1860s not that many tourists are planning a trip to Quinto, Capshaw anytime soon or anytime at all for that matter. Real estate here never varied much here until the summer of 1998, people in Capshaw never really showed evolution in how they lived so that rickety old house on the outer side of the lake had been left unkept and unseen for years since the predecessor left, every since she could remember that house had been empty, the journey across the lake to get there had proven unuseful to the houses worth so there it sat for years, until one day someone saw its use.

It had been the lead to her 16th birthday when her father left out tiny island on business, no any normal father-daughter pair would have been torn between the decision to miss this special event but no, not her dad, no Malcome and she had a mutual agreement of a somewhat hatred to each other, he loved her yes, in his own way she guessed he just never knew how; He'd left that morning. Her regular duties as the mayor's daughter were to go into town and to respond to any complaints the towns people's may have. Now in a small town like this, you could only imagine there was little or no complaints about our Isles of solitude but that was simply never the case.

On this particular Saturday Mr Hunt the towns only pubs landlord, a spineless little man with wrinkled flesh, who towered off the ground from the U-shaped valley that had formed upon his shoulders giving him a slight hunch to the leg resulting in the need for a walking stick, had opted to call in a 'robbery' earlier that day or at least that's what she thought considering its the third these past weeks, and they are no longer in need to checking his messages besides the whole town knew he was unknowingly talking to his grandson Tommy and his gang of Capshaw vermin , causing havoc with each word that came out if their vile little mouths. She for one would prefer a well-mannered pig if given the choice between the two someones she had expressed to me on many occasions.

"Mr hunt" she addressed him removing her scarf, looking up to find his judgmental beady little eyes fixed on mine, "Kate" She said nodding to the shopper, she was pretty about the Same age as Evelyn 26 at most, with long curly black hair that reached shoulders, her lips turned up in a u shape fairly similar to that on Mr.Hunts upper back, as she smiled at her.

"late" he barked at her.

"I wasn't under the impression I was in a particular time frame " she apologised stiffening the need to gag as he gazed at Kate with his sinister-looking eyes in front of her; their relationship had always appeared odd to me a man in his late 60s having the 26-year-old follow and meet his very demand, while he acted with the attitude of a defiant dog, but strictly professional OF COURSE.

She sighed "how can I help you, Mr.Hunt?" She expressed snapping him out of his little trance,

"delivery" he barked As she squinted slightly when he handed her a small box and the piece of paper that held an address, She sighed giving a nod, and with that, he was happy to go back to his own game of Kate and, oh sorry I meant cat and mouse.

Whereas she for one couldn't think of anywhere her day could get worse when one thing was going around in her head, great water.

By 2010, scientists say they may find more than 2 million different species of marine life.

So far, the Census of Marine Life comprised 15,304 species of fish and 194,696 to 214,696 species of animals and plants, estimated to be roughly 10 percent of the world's total.

The census is adding about 150 to 200 species of fish and 1,700 species of animals and plants each year.

The scientists said they believe the oceans that extend across 70 percent of Earth's surface hold about 20,000 species of fish and up to 1.98 million species of animals and plants. 31 of which I was currently staring down at, the water here in the summer if you could call it a summer? is so clear you can see all the way to the bottom and amongst the algae and wild population of plant life the lake holds 31 different species of fish impressive right.

With Alaska having quite a variety of fish species. Its lakes, rivers, and oceans are home to fish such as trout, salmon, char, grayling, halibut, lampreys, lingcod, longnose sucker, pacific hake, pacific herring, pike, black rockfish, salmon shark, sculpin,walleye pollock, white sturgeon, and whitefish.

Unlike mammals, fish are cold-blooded. This means that they do not maintain a constant internal body temperature; instead, their temperature is greatly influenced by their environment. True fish have a backbone and fins. Most also breathe with gills and have scales that cover their bodies. It is currently believed that fish began to evolve about 480 million years ago, Collin had told me that once;

And ... oh right no sorry back to the story.

By mid-morning, the fishermen are on the beach to sell their catch to the housewives and restauranteurs. The beach smells of fish guts festering in the sun and the gulls cry overhead, coming for whatever they can get. If it wouldn't make her speak like a duck She would have pegged her nose, but at least the breeze takes the worst of it away. The fishermen are fathers and sons, once in a while a daughter, and though the day is early for the customers it is late for them. They joke and smile, yet behind it all is a hint of fatigue, a need to get on with clean up before they can take a much-needed siesta.

It's sad really, She'd reached the harbor around 10 after her rounds, requesting the assistance of Frank a local fisherman to accompany her on the journey across the lake, a journey in which she still had no idea what could of had been its cause Frank was a very tall man, towering away above any height either of us could ever hope to reach, his hair had rumoured to have a magnificent blond in his younger days, I for one could vouch for that but to her no he'd always been the same dust grey, his pinky completion had reminded her of the red flashing lights on the ends of her shoes in 1st grade or the red high heels she had now replaced them for in 12th.

She never really knew what to expect when she had stepped off that boat, maybe a new family moving in or a rampaging contractor getting ready to knock it down because really she had no idea what her dad had planned for Capshaw lately. Stepping onto the stone path she thanked Frank after reassuring him she would find her own way home, one with fewer strains to her stomach and watched from her place on the old dock as he sailed away, back to town.

"okay," she had sighed to herself as she gazed up the dirt-covered path and with taken one large stride forward she stopped, the sound of her snapping heal echoing against the empty trees. Dipping her head she took a slow and deep breath before slipping off both her shoes and continuing.

Iris: 

The house was larger than she had expected its abnormal 'L' shape curved around trees of all shapes and sizes, covered in bushes and plant holes she guessed once held some kind of flowers. Reaching the front door she took aa breath as she was welcomed by an overcoming smell of lavender? There was something familiar about that smell yet she could not place what distant life or memory of hers, it belonged to so stepping forward careful not to drop the oddly heavy box along with her discarded shoes she knocked.

"Just a second" came a voice from inside barely audible over the gust of the wind that followed.

Evelyn cleared her throat, "um, Mrs...Mrs. X?" she questioned trying to read to name written on the box, before leaning up to the door trying to see through the side window of the dust covered moss "Hi my name is Evelyn Capshaw and I was wondering if there was anything...." Then she was cut off by the sound of keys in the lock.

The door opened to reveal a woman. She stood upon a medium height with beautiful ginger locks tied in half bun fast kind of updo that Evelyn was sure would have reached way bellow the shoulder, she was wearing flat creamy pink shoes with bows on them, slim jeans that cut off at the ankle that followed a large wooly jumper close to the colour of her shoes. Evelyn didn't mean to stare but as she looks up to find the spacing greenish brown eyes, she couldn't feel like she'd seen them before. Her skin was white like flour the polished pink to her cheeks compensated to the megawatt smile that joined them. Small winked lines to the side of the distance orbs she called eyes that showed stories of lifetimes of love and laughter maybe some sadness too.

Then she heard a laugh which broke her trance.

"Hello anyone in there?"

"Sorry" Evelyn jumped in realization that she had been staring, handing her the package before clasping her hands together.

But still I stood cemented to the ground.

She looked her up and down, noticing the absence of her shoes and smiled, Evelyn watched in utter disbelief as she turned back to her "your not just going to stand there are you?" She yelled over her shoulder before disappearing into the house; Evelyn shook her head before walking inside as everything became set on a path to become clear, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was all so familiar...