A Short Story

                           Edges of Memories that Blur

                         A Short Story By Erin Gardner

That day was one of the most prominent days of my existence. As I age the memories of ordinary life events blur at the edges, but that day stands out in my memories like a bright star on a foggy night. War can do strange things to people and I believe that, is what caused Herbert McAuliffe to do what he did that day.

            It was June twenty-first, late afternoon, 1950. I had worked at the bank in Langton for a few years now. I was the only teller, and the only one that was needed, Langton being such a small town. We were about to close, and I was excited to get out of the heat and see my husband. A man walked in the door. He had a sun helmet on and sunglasses. His blue pinstripe shirt looked dirty. I thought he must be a farmer. Little did I know that I had thought very wrong. The man pulled a gun out of his jacket and shouted, “ This is a stick up. Everyone get over in the corner and face the wall.”

            I felt panic rise inside of me, and I froze. I was inside the cage that the teller sat in. I thought that maybe this man wouldn’t notice me. But he did. At the last moment I remembered the alarm. I reached my hand over slowly hovering over the small black bud. I pressed the button. Then the man looked over at me, he told me to get into the corner with the others. I ran over to the corner and crouched down. Mr. Van Hooren, the owner of the garage down the street burst into the bank. The robber pulled out another gun and motioned for him to join us in the corner. There were now five bank staff, a customer and now Mr. Van Hooren trapped in the corner. Time went by. What was seconds seemed like hours. He ordered the customer to go to the vault and get out money. He was filling the bag with the bills when he dropped the bag and the money went flying all over the floor. I thought he might shoot the customer. He seemed willing to shoot at any moment to get what he wanted. My hands were sweaty and slippery, but not from the hot June day. I could hear myself and the others around me, breathing in a panicked manner. My heart was thumping so loud I could hear the beats in my head. But he didn’t shoot and the customer filled a new bag. The man with the guns ordered us into the vault. I thought that this was it. He was going to kill us all now. I was only 23 and newly married. I didn’t want to die now. We had planned to have kids and start a life. What would my brother and sister do when they found out? And my mother, I didn’t want her to have to bury one of her own children. I silently prayed for God to spare us. All of the sudden the man ordered the customer out with all of the money. There was too much to carry so he needed two people. The man hit the vault door with his foot, intending to close it, but he didn’t push it hard enough and it didn’t close all the way. He ran out of the room and out of the bank. I thought I might faint.

            The rest of the story, I learned from others. After we left the bank, there were crowds of people outside. I saw a few loose bills flying around in the wind. All of the sudden I had masses of people around me, asking me questions, hugging me. I asked what had happened to the robber. Someone told me that he had drove away and two of the men watching, Arthur Lierman and William Godden had got into a car with a gun and followed him. They tried to shoot at him, and his car went into a ditch. They pulled up behind him in an empty field. McAuliffe, the robber got out of his car and took out a machine gun. He emptied the clip into Lierman and Godden’s heads. A farm boy had seen this; I couldn’t imagine the images that tainted that boy’s mind. The man then ran into the forest.

            When I got home from the bank that day, I collapsed on my bed and started to cry. When I found out that this murderer was somewhere in the woods, I was scared he would come back for me. I had a nightmare almost every night for a while, and I still do to this day have the occasional nightmare. They all end the same; with me dying different ways by the hands of Herbert McAuliffe. I couldn’t go back to the bank even after he was captured.

He was captured after a three-day hunt by a mass of police and towns people. The town’s people were like a mob, angered by what had happened to their friends. Almost all the men in the town had a gun and were searching for McAuliffe. He was found in Statffordville, in a run-down shack, exhausted and dehydrated. The man that found him said that his clothes were torn; he was badly bruised and had no shirt. He was taken to the jail in Simcoe. Later it was found out that McAuliffe was a Canadian Army Sergeant in the Second World War. He said that the reason he killed those men was because the army taught him to kill and said that he could kill whomever he wanted. For weeks, the papers were filled with his name, and it was all the town’s people could talk about. I kept my head down when I had to go into town and avoided everyone that tried to talk to me about it. My family knew how I felt about the situation. Even the sound of that man’s name sent a shudder of panic through me. At night when I couldn’t sleep, I thought of what could have happened to me that day. I tried not to think about that summer.

McAuliffe’s trial was at the beginning of September. He was announced as guilty of two counts of murder. I didn’t go to the trial; I couldn’t stand to see that man’s face again. But my husband went and reported the account to me. At the end of the trial this was announced to McAuliffe:
"You are to be taken from here to the place from whence you came and there to be kept in close confinement until December 19, 1950. On that day, you will be taken to the place of execution and there be hanged by your neck until dead. And may God have mercy on your soul."

            I felt relieved that McAuliffe was not to be part of this world anymore. But in a way I felt sorry for the man. I didn’t think that capital punishment was right for anyone, no matter what they did. In fact I found it to almost be the easy way out for them. Being hanged usually means you die quickly while being in prison for your whole life gives you nothing to do but to reflect on what you have done.

            On December 19^th, 1950 McAuliffe was hung. But his death wasn’t painless, the doctor miscalculated the drop and it took fifteen minutes for him to strangle to death.

            Now that I am old, you would imagine these memories would slip away from my troubled mind. But they haven’t. I forget new things, like my grandchildren’s birthdays, but the memory of trauma stains my mind.

                           Edges of Memories that Blur- Draft

                         A Short Story By Erin Gardner

That day was one of the most prominent days of my existence. As I age the memories of ordinary life events blur at the edges, but that day stands out in my memories like a bright star on a foggy night. War can do strange things to people and I believe that, that is what caused Herbert McAuliffe to do what he did that day.

            It was June twenty-first, late afternoon, 1950. I had worked at the bank in Langton for a few years now. I was the only teller, and the only one that was needed, Langton being such a small town. We were about to close, and I was excited to get out of the heat and see my husband. A man walked in the door. He had a sun helmet on and sunglasses. His blue pinstripe shirt looked dirty. I thought he must be a farmer. Little did I know that I had thought very wrong. The man pulled a gun out of his jacket and shouted, “ This is a stick up. Everyone get over in the corner and face the wall.”

            I felt panic rise inside of me, and I froze. I was inside the cage that the teller sat in. I thought that maybe this man wouldn’t notice me. But he did. At the last moment I remembered the alarm. I reached my hand over slowly hovering over the small black bud. I pressed the button. Then the man looked over at me, he told me to get into the corner with the others. I ran over to the corner and crouched down. Mr. Van Hooren, the owner of the garage down the street burst into the bank. The robber pulled out another gun and motioned for him to join us in the corner. There were now five bank staff, a customer and now Mr. Van Hooren trapped in the corner. Time went by. What was seconds seemed like hours. He ordered the customer to go to the vault and get out money. He was filling the bag with the bills when he dropped the bag and the money went flying all over the floor. I thought he might shoot the customer. He seemed willing to shoot at any moment to get what he wanted. My hands were sweaty and slippery, but not from the hot June day. I could hear myself and the others around me, breathing in a panicked matter.  But he didn’t shoot and the customer filled a new bag. The man with the guns ordered us into the vault. I thought that this was it. He was going to kill us all now. I was only 23 and newly married. I didn’t want to die now. We had planned to have kids and start a life. What would my brother and sister do when they found out? And my mother, I didn’t want her to have to bury one of her own children. I silently prayed for God to spare us. All of the sudden the man ordered the customer out with all of the money. There was too much to carry so he needed two people. The man hit the vault door with his foot, intending to close it, but he didn’t push it hard enough and it didn’t close all the way. He ran out of the room and out of the bank. I thought I might faint.

            The rest of the story, I learned from others. After we left the bank, there were crowds of people outside. I saw a few loose bills flying around in the wind. All of the sudden I had masses of people around me, asking me questions, hugging me. I asked what had happened to the robber. Someone told me that they had drove away and two of the men watching, Arthur Lierman and William Godden had got into a car with a gun and followed him. They tried to shoot at him, and his car went into a ditch. They pulled up behind him in an empty field. McAuliffe, the robber got out of his car and took out a machine gun. He emptied the clip into Lierman and Godden’s heads. A farm boy had seen this; I couldn’t imagine the images that tainted that boy’s mind. The man then ran into the forest.

            When I got home from the bank that day, I collapsed on my bed and started to cry. When I found out that this murderer was somewhere in the woods, I was scared he would come back for me. I had a nightmare almost every night for a while, and I still do to this day have the occasional nightmare. They all end the same; with me dying different ways by the hands of Herbert McAuliffe. I couldn’t go back to the bank even after he was captured.

He was captured after a three-day hunt by a mass of police and towns people. The town’s people were like a mob, angered by what had happened to their friends. Almost all the men in the town had a gun and were searching for McAuliffe. He was found in Statffordville, in a run-down shack, exhausted and dehydrated. The man that found him said that his clothes were torn; he was badly bruised and had no shirt. He was taken to the jail in Simcoe. Later it was found out that McAuliffe was a Canadian Army Sergeant in the Second World War. He said that the reason he killed those men was because the army taught him to kill and said that he could kill whomever he wanted. For weeks, the papers were filled with his name, and it was all the town’s people could talk about. I kept my head down when I had to go into town and avoided everyone that tried to talk to me about it. My family knew how I felt about the situation. Even the sound of that man’s name sent a shudder of panic through me. At night when I couldn’t sleep, I thought of what could have happened to me that day. I tried not to think about that summer.

McAuliffe’s trial was at the beginning of September. He was announced as guilty of two counts of murder. I didn’t go to the trial; I couldn’t stand to see that man’s face again. But my husband went and reported the account to me. At the end of the trial this was announced to McAuliffe:
"You are to be taken from here to the place from whence you came and there to be kept in close confinement until December 19, 1950. On that day, you will be taken to the place of execution and there be hanged by your neck until dead. And may God have mercy on your soul."

            I felt relieved that McAuliffe was not to be part of this world anymore. But in a way I felt sorry for the man. I didn’t think that capital punishment was right for anyone, no matter what they did. In fact I found it to almost be the easy way out for them. Being hanged usually means you die quickly while being in prison for your whole life gives you nothing to do but to reflect on what you have done.

            On December 19^th, 1950 McAuliffe was hung. But his death wasn’t painless, the doctor miscalculated the drop and it took fifteen minutes for him to strangle to death.

            Now that I am old, you would imagine these memories would slip away from my troubled mind. But they haven’t. I forget new things, like my grandchildren’s birthdays, but the memory of trauma stains my mind.

                                    Reflection

            While I was editing this piece or any piece, I usually read it over once to myself after I have written it. Then I usually let my mom read it so she can find any errors. For this story I had my grade 12 English teacher read it and make any corrections that she thought would be good, and lastly I used the corrections that my peer editor made. My mom and teacher mostly made small spelling and grammar corrections; I took these and applied them to my work. My peer suggested more description in the climax of my story so I added a sentence there. I didn’t want to add too much because I didn’t want it to be extremely descriptive; I wanted the readers to come up with their own conclusions in their minds. Editing can be a large process and from this course I have learned that editing can make or break your work. Because the story is based on an experience that my aunt had, I think that there is some of her bias of when she retold the story and also the bias from the own conclusions I made. I had no idea of my aunt’s thoughts about hanging, the sentence about that is my own opinion. I loved this story when I was finished writing it. I think that it is the best story I have ever written throughout high school and I’m very proud of it.

A Coming Of Age Story

                                                  Regrets- Revised Copy

                                                          By: Erin Gardner

                As I look down at my son, I have no regrets, but I know I have ruined the chances at having the best life we could have. The boy has no father, and I no husband. When I was a child I imagined having the perfect wedding with the perfect husband and then having a child when we were ready. Unfortunately this dream of mine was now impossible.
When I started high school I was naive. I looked at the older girls, saw their makeup and their cell phones. I thought that they were so cool. Their hair was perfect and they were beautiful. I wanted to be like them. Later I found out being like them wasn’t all it seemed to be.

I had two best friends in grade nine, Amy and Kelsey. Amy was tall and gangly with frizzy red hair and bright green eyes, she was sweet and I felt I could tell her anything. Kelsey was short and had brown straight hair, she was very smart and sometimes got mad at mine and Amy’s silly antics. I was average height, with thin straight blonde hair, I was pretty small around the waist. My eyes were blue with flecks of green in them. My eyes were my favourite feature. We mostly kept to ourselves and tried to avoid embarrassing situations. One day at school I asked Amy and Kelsey, "What do you think it would be like?"
               "What?" Kelsey wondered.
               "To sit with the popular kids," I said. I looked over at them. They were laughing at something one of them said over in the corner of the cafeteria.
               "It doesn’t seem all that it cracks up to be, I like just hanging with you guys. Besides they are always having parties, and doing drugs aren’t they?" Amy said.
                "Yeah... maybe you’re right." I mumbled, but I still wondered. I stared at Derek. He was the hottest guy at school, super athletic, and just all around amazing. He had spiky blonde hair, and blue eyes that could make you melt. I will never forget the day I met him.

I was at the convenience store across the street from school. I was buying a bottle of water but I didn’t have enough money. He stepped up with his gleaming smile and dreamy eyes and said he would cover the rest. I thanked him and we walked back to the school together. I had recently begged my mom for a cell phone and she had complied. He asked for my number, and the rest of the day my friends and I were squealing about it.
             We started texting back and forth every night. I started coming to his football practices and games after school, neglecting my homework. My grades had dropped. I hardly ever saw Amy and Kelsey. I started wearing makeup and dressing in tight fitting clothing. At lunch Derek and I made out on the bleachers. I didn’t care. I was in love, or at least I thought I was.

Derek invited me to come to a party with him on a Friday night. I was hesitant, because I wouldn’t know anyone there except for Derek, but he promised he would introduce me to people. I had never drank alcohol before but he promised he would take care of me. When we got to the party, the music was booming in my ears, making every bone in my body vibrate with every beat. People were dancing and making out like wild animals. I recognized a few people from school, but no one I talked to. People everywhere were holding cups and laughing. There were a few couches, that looked old and beat up and there was beer bottles and spilled drinks all over the floor. People were yelling to talk to each other through the loud music. I clung to Derek, but he shook me off and went off with his buddies. I stood alone unsure of what to do. He came back a few minutes later and shoved a drink in my hand. I drank it, and he gave me another, and another and soon I was feeling blurry and my head was pounding. Derek took me to a bedroom and started rubbing my back. I thought he was trying to make me feel better but then he was touching my breasts and kissing me. I liked it at first but then it was going too far. I wasn’t ready to lose my virginity yet. He took my top off and I started pushing him away, but he was too strong. He pulled me in close and told me it was okay. He said I owed him a favour. I wanted to be accepted by him, so I let him. It was painful at first, but after awhile I was enjoying it. Then I remembered. We weren’t using any protection. I slid my body out from under him but it was too late, he had ejaculated inside me. He kissed me and got up.

"Thanks, babe." he said. I just laid there. I put my clothes on and went home. I wanted my mom, my friends and my old life back. I curled up in my bed and cried.
            Now that I look back on that night, I realised how stupid I was. Derek didn’t love me; he was just using me for sex.  Derek stopped talking to me and when I told him I was pregnant, he didn’t care. He said he only wanted me because he wanted to try having sex with a virgin. I was hurt. My friends didn’t want to talk to me after I had abandoned them for a guy. But I think they felt sorry for me and we started talking again, but it was never like it used to be. Luke was born, and I didn’t regret keeping him but I regretted my timing and his father. I thought a lot about what I would say to Luke when he wondered who his dad was. My mom and dad were supportive and they helped me raise him. But I couldn’t finish high school and I had a job at the local convenience store, which didn’t pay well. One day Derek came in to buy a bottle of water. He had a young girl with him, I looked in to her eyes and wished that I could send her a message to tell her to run from him as fast as she could, but I knew just like me, there was no hope for her.

                                         Regrets- Draft
                                         By: Erin Gardner

          As I look down at my son, I have no regrets, but I know I have ruined the chances at having the best life we could have. The boy has no father, and I no husband. When I was a child I imagined having the perfect wedding with the perfect husband and then having a child when we were ready. Unfortunately this dream of mine was now impossible.
         When I started high school I was naive. I looked at the older girls; saw their makeup and their cell phones. I thought that they were so cool. Their hair was perfect and they were beautiful. I wanted to be like them. Later I found out being like them wasn’t all it seemed to be. I had two best friends in grade nine, Amy and Kelsey. Amy was tall and gangly with frizzy red hair and bright green eyes, she was sweet and I felt I could tell her anything. Kelsey was short and had brown straight hair, she was very smart and sometimes got mad at mine and Amy’s silly antics. I was average height, with thin straight blonde hair, I was pretty small around the waist. My eyes were blue with flecks of green in them. My eyes were my favourite feature. We mostly kept to ourselves and tried to avoid embarrassing situations. One day at school I asked Amy and Kelsey, "What do you think it would be like?"
"What?" Kelsey wondered.
"To sit with the popular kids," I said. I looked over at them. They were laughing at something one of them said over in the corner of the cafeteria.
"It doesn’t seem all that it cracks up to be, I like just hanging with you guys. Besides they are always having parties, and doing drugs aren’t they?" Amy said. "Yeah... maybe you’re right." I mumbled, but I still wondered. I stared at Derek. He was the hottest guy at school, super athletic, and just all around amazing. He had spiky blonde hair, and blue eyes that could make you melt. I will never forget the day I met him. I was at the convenience store across the street from school. I was buying a bottle of water but I didn’t have enough money. He stepped up with his gleaming smile and dreamy eyes and said he would cover the rest. I thanked him and we walked back to the school together. I had recently begged my mom for a cell phone and she had complied. He asked for my number, and the rest of the day my friends and I were squealing about it.
We started texting back and forth every night. I started coming to his football practices and games after school, neglecting my homework and my grades dropped. I hardly ever saw Amy and Kelsey. I started wearing makeup and dressing in tight fitting clothing. At lunch Derek and I made out on the bleachers. I didn’t care, I was in love. Or at least I thought I was.
Derek invited me to come to a party with him on a Friday night. I was hesitant, because I wouldn’t know anyone there except for Derek, but he promised he would introduce me to people. I had never drank alcohol before but he promised he would take care of me. When we got to the party, the music was booming in my ears, making every bone in my body vibrate with every beat. People were dancing and making out like wild animals. I recognized a few people from school, but no one I talked to. People everywhere were holding cups and laughing. There were a few couches, that looked old and beat up and there was beer bottles and spilled drinks all over the floor. People were yelling to talk to each other through the loud music. I clung to Derek, but he shook me off and went off with his buddies. I stood alone unsure of what to do. He came back a few minutes later and shoved a drink in my hand. I drank it, and he gave me another, and another and soon I was feeling blurry and my head was pounding. Derek took me to a bedroom and started rubbing my back. I thought he was trying to make me feel better but then he was touching my breasts and kissing me. I liked it at first but then it was going too far. I wasn’t ready to lose my virginity yet. He took my top off and I started pushing him away, but he was too strong. He pulled me in close and told me it was okay. He said I owed him a favour. I wanted to be accepted and popular so I let him. It was painful at first, but after awhile I was enjoying it. Then I remember. We weren’t using any protection. I slid my body out from under him but it was too late, he had ejaculated inside me. He kissed me and got up. "Thanks, babe." he said. I just layed there. I put my clothes on and went home. I wanted my mom, my friends and my old life back. I curled up in my bed and cried.
Now that I look back on that night, I realised how stupid I was. Derek didn’t love me, he was just using me for sex. Derek stopped talking to me and when I told him I was pregnant, he didn’t care. He said he only wanted me because he wanted to try having sex with a virgin. I was hurt. My friends didn’t want to talk to me after I had abandoned them for a guy. But I think they felt sorry for me and we started becoming friends again. Luke was born, and I didn’t regret keeping him but I regretted my timing and his father. I thought a lot about what I would say to Luke when he wondered who his dad was. My mom and dad were supportive and they helped me raise Luke. But I couldn’t finish high school and I had a job at the local convenience store which didn’t pay well. One day Derek came in to buy a bottle of water. He had a young girl with him, I looked in to her eyes and wished that I could send her a message to tell her to run from him as fast as she could, but I knew just like me, there was no hope for her.

                                                      Reflection

          I chose this story also because I felt that I could improve it. It is also what I feel to be one of the best-written stories I did in this course. I edited a few spelling and spacing errors and added in some more description. This piece was meant for teens to read especially females. I think that it is more appropriate for older teens say 16+ because of some of the content (sexual intercourse).It is a good example that teenage girls could learn from. I feel like as girls we jump to whoever will love us and we want to do whatever we can to make them happy. I think people could learn from this story. I think this piece helped me grow as a reader especially because I had never written fiction that was so serious; also I usually like to write my fiction based on a true story.

                                   

Travel Review By: Erin Gardner

Map of Mackinac Island and The Grand Hotel ( Pictured above)

                                                      Travel Review- Final Copy

Can you imagine being on a peaceful island, with no cars? To get around the island you are pulled by horse drawn carriage. The water is a clear crystal blue. This is Mackinac Island. The main attraction on the island is the Grand Hotel (pictured above). The hotel was built in 1886 and has been a popular vacation spot ever since. The Grand Hotel boasts a large porch and beautiful flower gardens. Vibrant geraniums, roses and peonies fill the gardens with a mystical aroma that takes you away. No room is the same at the Grand Hotel. Each time you go is a new discovery. When I went to Mackinac Island, I actually stayed in Mackinaw City, which is a short ferry ride away from the Island. If I were to go again I would stay on the Island. I feel like it would just be a better experience, you would wake up and be in this gorgeous place. There is plenty to do on the Island and in the City. For instance my family and I rode bikes that we rented all around the island, stopping at different points of interest, like arch rock. In the afternoon my mother and I rode horses along a trail. It is such a peaceful place to go. In the city there is tons of shops and restaurants and entertainment, most hotels had a beach attached so you could go swimming in the water.

                                           Draft- Travel Review

               Can you imagine being on a peaceful island, with no cars. To get around the island you are pulled by horse drawn carriage. The water is a clear crystal blue. This is Mackinac Island. The main attraction on the island is the Grand Hotel ( pictured above). The hotel was built in 1886 and has been a popular vacation spot ever since. The Grand Hotel boasts a large porch and beautiful flower gardens. Vibrant geraniums, roses and peonies fill the gardens with a mystical aroma that takes you away. No room is the same at the Grand Hotel. Each time you go is a new discovery.

                                                         Refection

                I chose to do this piece of non-fiction because I felt that I could have done a way better job of it. When I first did it I didn’t really understand what a travel review should be like but after looking at my peers work I realized that I could have made my work way better. It frustrates me when I do a piece and afterwards I figure out that I could have done more detail and improvements. So while doing this I had the chance to fix up my old work. I added in my experiences on my trip, because how is anyone supposed to get something from your review, if you aren’t actually reviewing what you did etc. A travel review is supposed to help others decide if they would want to go to that place or find out what the place is all about.

Final Piece of Poetry

Creation- Final Copy

By: Erin Gardner

I pause

on the edge of the cistern,

the stones have been covered with fine plaster

The white plaster

clings to my flesh.

Heat shimmers

over the water,

The spirit of God

hovers– over the water,

as it did on the first day

of creation.

I stand

before the glory of what he has created.

I remove my cloak, my sandals, my tunic.

Other women purify themselves,

in the mikvah, but I need deeper waters.

I dive in.

Creation-Rough Draft

By: Erin Gardner

I pause

on the edge of the cistern where,

the stones have been covered with fine plaster

The white plaster

clings to my flesh.

I watch the shimmer of the heat

over the water,

It is said that the spirit of God

hovers– over the water,

as it did on the first day

of creation. I stand

before the glory of what he has created.

I remove my cloak, my sandals, my tunic.

Other women purify themselves,

in the mikvah, but I need deeper

waters. I dive in.

Reflection

                I picked this piece because I loved this poem that I wrote. I had no idea that there was such a thing as found poetry. I like found poetry because it can be anything you want. I find it really captivating. The book I took it from is one of the most powerful books I have ever read. It had so much description and really awesome words. I tried to use metre to change up the sound of the poem. When I revised the poem I took out words that seemed kind of boring and repetitive. I feel like I have defiantly grown in writing poetry because before I started this course I had little or no experience and through the course I have learned a lot of different techniques and how poetry should be. Before I thought that poetry was complicated and hard, but now I realize that there is no wrong answer to poetry and you just write what you feel and how you feel. If I were to totally re-do found poetry I think I would take something like a news article or something totally unexpected and make it into found poetry.