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Non-Fiction

Meet the Authors......................................................................................................................3

UFO Report.............................................................................................................................5
Paranormal Q & A....................................................................................................................8
Men In Black...........................................................................................................................11
Men In Fedoras......................................................................................................................13
2016: The Year of the Red Fire Monkey.................................................................................16
The Lunar Lunacy Effect........................................................................................................19
Hubal and the Great Lunar Muslim Debate............................................................................21

Fiction

The Kin- Virginia Carraway Stark............................................................................................23

Sharon's Spookies...................................................................................................................31
The Ballad of Ferdinand the Mechanical Monkey- Virginia Carraway Stark...........................34

Virginia Carraway Stark is editor in chief of StarkLight Press and

Director at the National Paranormal Society. She has written
extensively on the paranormal and injects her considerable
knowledge on the subject into her speculative fiction and
screenplays. You can find Virginia's work through StarkLight Press.
She works with other writers, artists and poets to hone her talents
and to offer encouragement and insight to others. She has been an
honorable mention at Canne Film Festival for her screenplay, Blind Eye and
was nominated for an Aurora Award.
www.starklightpress.com
www.ihavememory.wordpress.com
www.virginiastark.wordpress.com
J.L. Estes is a self-published author of two poetry books; Book of Sorrows and
The Broken
Ones, both as a Kindle version or as a trade paperback and can be purchased
on Amazon.com.
Ms. Estes has also been recognized by the Library of Congress for her mastery
of poetry and her poem Shattered is published in their edition the
International Whos Who in Poetry 2012. She is currently slaving over her first
fiction novel Insanity, look for it soon. She is earning her
Bachelors Degree in Forensic Psychology, with hopes of running her own crime lab one day.
She is also an honorary member of the elite National Society of Collegiate Scholars. Bravely,
she has chosen to be an advocate for Victims of Violence, so they no longer have to suffer in
silence. Please join her fight, check out her website; Victims of Violence
http://toddandjenn02.wix.com/sufferinginsilence. Contact her anytime she will answer any and
all questions; sweetjeni74@stu.argosy.edu. You can also follow her on Twitter, J.L. Estes
@sweetjeni74.

L,E, Caine is a staff writer for Starklight Press as well as an artist in

her own right. She started off her career in writing as a ghost writer
and later ventured into the world of science fiction and fantasy with
the occasional horrendous horror story that she claims helps her to
'vent murderous urges'.
She is a frequent contributor both here and to various wiccan,
empath and magical bulletin boards.

StarkLight Press has found in Sharon Flood an excellent

author and editor, whose timely work allows SLP to share
even more thrilling, exciting fiction with our fans. She pens
a monthly story on ghosts and hauntings in Sharon's
Spookies. You can find her work at

http://www.protagonize.com/author/moonwalker
and at

http://www.amazon.com/Forevermore-Travel-Anthology-Sharon-Flood-ebook/dp/B00X
SBH4UW

UFO Report: In My Backyard

by Virginia Carraway Stark

The Peace River Region that covers an area between British Columbia and Alberta in
northern Canada, it is also a UFO hotspot.

It seems like most of my friends have at least one story of a camping trip and seeing ships fly
over, or of being in the wilds and their electronics not working and then seeing ships. Often
these ships are reported to be either following or being chased by the strange ships.

With a lot of wilderness and cellphone reception that fades in and out, the wilds of the Peace
River can be an intimidating place to be summer or winter. There are many large predators
and the harsh climate with hot summers and winters that can be as cold as -60, there is
enough to worry about without adding UFOs into the equation.
Many people in Dawson Creek report a strange 'star' that hangs just over the town's mill. It
wobbles around a bit in an eclectic circle but the word 'hovering' often is used in reference to
it. Ships are reported in town and it seems like some people are oblivious to them while
others stop to point and stare.

I found a remarkable video that is

reported to have been taken last year in
Dawson Creek by Zenaida Swafford. It is
a fairly clear image of a multi-colored
UFO.

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x33ybwn
It seems that it's been a hotspot here since the '70's.
Although, getting any cohesive evidence from before
that is difficult at best. Unlike many of the UFO
hotspots I have found no cases of crop circles
although there are quite a few people who admit to
recalling an abduction or fighting off an abduction.

There are a lot of people who work in the primary industry sector who spend weeks out on
mountains and have reported UFOs that rise up out of nowhere and are as plain as day.
Some of these people say that their digital recorders will often fail to capture any image even
though the UFO is as plain as day. Below are some links of some encounters that have been
reported over the years. This is only a small sampling, but an interesting one. The brazen
behavior they display is something that is irrefuteable when you live here long enough. Too
many stories, too many people believe in them.
Dawson Creek has an interesting history and I think that it plays a part in the hot zone and
how little the UFOs or the military work to hide the activity here.
During World War 2 Dawson Creek was the start of an American Army project to build a road
to Alaska to help fight against the dangers in the Pacific. This little town became known as
'The Mile Zero City' and is proud of it's small claim to fame.
In fact, the actual Mile Zero Post has been stolen on a
couple of occasions (usually by Fort Saint John who covets
Dawson Creek's 'fame') and even painted pink for some
reason!
This connection to the military has lead some to speculate
that there are tunnels under the city that lead to strange
government facilities much like in Dulce or Area 51. There
is an air of mystery and a quiet, closed off aura that the
locals exude that there is nothing to talk about, nothing to
see here and outsiders are kept at arms length.
For more anecdotes click the links below. If you have a
UFO story to tell email us at
outermostsubmissions@gmail.com

http://canadaufo.blogspot.ca/2007/12/dawson-creek-northern-bc-fluorescent.html?m=1 vikes
http://www.ufoevidence.org/sightings/report.asp?ID=14116
http://psican.org/alpha/index.php?/British-Columbia-UFO-Reports/A-Lifetime-of-UFOs.html

1. How do you cast a glamor spell?

I get this question sent to my in box and it just opens a huge can of more questions. People
have funny ideas about glamor spells, what they are capable of and what you need.
Do you want to be a blonde and you're a brunette? Seriously, go to the salon or the hair dye
aisle at Walmart. You don't need to use magic for every last thing in life and if that's what
you're looking for then you're being irresponsible. Don't call on gods and goddesses for things
you can handle yourself, it's disrespectful.
Lets say that you want to do something like cover a hickey. That's a legit use for a glamor
spell. Whether it's your boyfriend or your parents your hiding it from, or just covering up for
your momentary loss of dignity this is a time when a glamor spell can be used.
The Goddess of Illusions is generally considered to be Diana or Artemis, or another moon
goddess if you're going to get exotic.
Before you get going though, you've got to ask yourself if you've done everything reasonable
to cover it up? Can you just wear a scarf or a cowl neck sweater? Maybe it's not that bad and
a little foundation and a dab of powder will cover it.
ALWAYS remember that you've got self determination and because of this you only ever use
magic as a last resort.
If you can get a hold of a raven feather or a picture of a raven that will really help. The feather
is best so go for a walk in the park before you face your boyfriend.
Lightly brush the hickey with the feather and call on Diana to hide your hickey. This works
great on pimples too, by the way. The words you use come from your heart, ask her to make it
gone, make it invisible. Tell her why it's important to you and tell her what you'll do for her if
she helps you. She's doing you a favor so be respectful and don't forget to do what you said
you'll do for her.
Good ideas for Diana are to give her a glass of wine (invoke her and pour it on the ground,
ideally where you found the feather), or you can off her a silver candle and promise to burn it
for an hour or whatever every night until it's gone.
If you are asking about a glamor to be 'the most beautiful girl in your class' or some other big
demand like that, first thing is: You are going to owe her BIG time so make sure you're ready

to metaphorically lick her balls if she does it for you.

The second thing is again: You are a self-determinate human being so do your own leg work
on this before you invoke a powerful entity and piss her off because you were too damn lazy
to go out and buy some lipstick and mascara. Think before you invoke. These are real forces.
Don't invoke a bazillion goddesses or gods because you've just spoken words of power.
Remember these are gods and goddesses and you owe them anytime you invoke them.
If you want to spout off about the goddess is in all of us or some other crap then stop invoking
goddesses and go buy a push up bra. Don't bother entities unless you're prepared to repay
them and maybe they'll want more than you're willing to pay because they don't owe you one
god damn thing.

2. I have a guy who won't leave me alone, is there a spell to get rid of a stalker?
Anytime you want to do any spell to get rid of something it's best if you can do it during the
waning moon. (Unless it's an emergency and then you need to ask this question but say
'fast').
The first thing to do is to ask the person to leave you alone. I'm serious here. Words have
power and it's amazing how many people have never actually told their stalker to 'leave me
alone and never return'. For best effect, us the person's name. Say I was being stalked by
Sean Penn, I would say, 'Sean Penn, leave me alone and never return.' You might see his
face crumple like a little puppy dog's face and if that happens then kudos! Your words have
worked their power and Sean Penn will leave you the hell alone.
At the same time that you do this make sure to return ANY belongings of theirs to them. You
don't want anything of theirs in your life or in your house. Return it all, get it the hell away from
you. If he doesn't take it leave it in front of him as you dramatically spin on your heel and walk
away.
Lets say that doesn't work and you still find creepy pictures of Sean Penn's head placed over
all your friend's faces when you come home from work. Things are getting serious.
You want to be a good person, right? Well, the rule of magic is to make your desire known
politely but firmly. If that doesn't work and they won't leave you alone then you have certain
rights. Practicing magic is just like having a sexual encounter. If you aren't interested and tell
them 'no' and they keep coming at you, then you have the right to give them a warning
'smack' to get them away from you.
One way to do this is to take a picture of Sean Penn and explain to the picture of him in no
uncertain terms that he has no part of your life. Explain that you aren't his and you don't want

him to come around anymore. Now you take that picture of him and you tie it to a nice size
rock and bind the picture with a black cord to your rock.
Find a body of running water and tell him, Sean Penn, I command you to be gone and to
never return to my life. Spit on your little ball of mojo and throw it into the river
Walk away, taking a different way home than the way you came and this is important, DON'T
LOOK BACK. If you can't help it and you look back well you just sent Sean Penn a really
mixed message and don't come crying to me if he's still stalking you.
Now, lets say that you didn't look back because if you looked back you really deserve what
you get. Magic isn't something to mess around with and if you aren't REALLY clear on your
intentions then you aren't ready. Go away newbie and get some grit to you before you come
asking me more questions.
If he comes back (and you did everything right) then the guy has just opened the door for you
to do whatever you want/need to do to get him out of your life. There are a wide range of
spells you can use at this point but try the first two first. You always try the nice way first, then
the warning smack, then you can get into, 'you messed with the wrong witch' spells.
I'm not going to go into what sort of aggressive spell you should use here
because I don't know a lot about Sean Penn. Is he just annoying? Well, you
don't need to be pulling out ingredients like wasps nest and saltpeter. Is he
coming at you with knives? You need to bring out the big magic at that point
and I'm talking blessing a bottle of pepper spray and having it on you at all
times. There's a huge range of spells you can use if a stalker won't get the
message but it would be irresponsible of me to tell you which one to use unless
you've tried the first two. Get back to me if you're still having problems by the
next waning moon and if it's really serious, get a restraining order, call the
cops. Sometimes real life problems have real life answers and having a man in
blue asking him to leave you alone can work magic too.

Men In
Black- by Virginia Carraway Stark
The phrase Men in Black has become a widely known
phrase and entirely misunderstood concept due to
misinformation, pranks and Hollywood blockbuster movies.
Many people assume that they know all about the Men in
Black when if fact very few people know anything about the
true origins of these mysterious figures.
The first known report of Men in Black was made by Albert K.
Bender. Bender fought in World War Two in the air force. In
1953 he started one of the very first magazines about
ufology called Space Review.
Bender created the International Flying Saucers Bureau in
1952, a small UFO group that nevertheless is considered by
many to have been what gave later groups such as MUFON
(Mutual UFO Network) their launching point.
It was the summer of 1953 when Bender claimed to have
uncovered the secret of UFOs. He said that he was going to
publish all the truth behind the whys and hows and whos of UFOs in the very next issue of
Space Review. It was then that things became a little peculiar.
Bender abruptly shut down the Space Review and the International Flying Saucers Bureau.
He was silent until 1963 when he published a book with the help of a notorious shady
publisher named Gray Barker. In his book, Flying Saucers and the Three Men. Bender
claimed that three men accompanied by three women accosted him and threatened his life if
he ever spoke about UFOs ever again. He described the men as being dressed entirely in
black and the women as being dressed in tightly fitting white uniforms. He also said that they
were monsters, sent from the planet Kazik to cause
some sort of harm to humanity. Barker referred to
the men as The Silencers and said that their
purpose on earth was to threaten anyone with
knowledge of UFOs and make sure that the
information never became known to the general
public. He claimed that there were reports of The
Silencers in New Zealand and Australia although
there is no documentation to back these claims.
The Men in Black underwent a new evolution when
John Keel wrote his document The Mothman

Prophecies. Keel spoke about the Men in Black more as ominous forces that were
manifestations of alien beings than as the silencers that Bender wrote about. Keel wrote
about how the men were capable of distorting electronics and making phone calls.
In 1988 The Krill Papers, written by the pseudonym O.H. Krill spoke about The Men in Black
as being involved in the Air Forces secret UFO study: Project Blue Book. The Krill Papers
defines itself as A situation report on our acquisition of advanced technology and interaction
with alien cultures. The Krill Papers have led many to the conclusion that the Men in Black
are aligned with the Air Force in enforcing a culture of fear and silence in those who would
speak out about their encounters.
In the nineties the movies Men in Black followed an earlier Three Stooges movie about the
phenomenon that made the Men in Black even more of a mockery than they started off being
and made the concept nearly impossible to research or take seriously. It was an obfuscation
that some argue has added credence to the concept of the Men in Black.
With shady origins and no evidence of any of the
dire threats The Silencers made ever actually
occurring, it is easy to be extremely skeptical of
their existence. Since the only thing that is more or
less universal is that the silencers always appear in
a group of three and wear black suits, hats and
sunglasses, it has also been an easy target for
pranksters. This obscures the matter further as
fraudulent reports and pranks of the paranormal so
often do. There was the phrase, black hats and
mirrored shades that used to denote government
secret agents and it is likely that agents and men
from the Air Force who were gathering information
or intimidating witnesses.
The supernatural and alien aspects of The Men inBlack are consistent and would be possible
to fake but many witnesses seem entirely convinced that the men are
shape shifting aliens. Witnesses agree that they always wear hats
and sunglasses, seem to be sensitive to the light. They speak in
monotones
and wear strange, thick soled shoes. They reportedly move like
robots and are awkward and clumsy. This has led to the conclusion
that they somehow didnt really belong in their bodies. They have thin
lips and their skin is abnormally pale or white.
There have been few reports in the past decade or so. The
combination of ineffective threats made by the men and the movies
made about them have made them unfashionable and amusing.
Nevertheless, The Silencers are an iconic part of Ufology and need to
be at least addressed as a real possibility. So much research uses
the books Albert K. Bender wrote and his assumptions as a
foundation for further conclusions that it must be addressed.

The Mysterious Man in the Black Fedora

by Jenn Spaulding

For many years I have seen the man in the black fedora hat. When he appears to me he
is just a figure in the shadow, but you can see his hat and you can feel that it is a man. When
I decided to do a little research on this mystery man, I was shocked to learn that many people
around the world have also seen him.
In my quest I have learned that the black hat man seems to be allured by or makes happen;
bad luck, illness, death, and disasters. It is currently unknown what his true intentions are and
what his presence means. It has even been said that the man in the black hat may be a soul
stealer. Although, I have found no evidence to back this theory up.
The man in the black fedora has paid many young teens visits when they have played with
an Ouija board. That is one of the reasons it is hard to track down the man in the black hat, he
is literally everywhere in the world. Most interestingly is the fact that the man in the black hat
has been known to visit alien abductees. Specifically abductees of the Grays or Mantis-Type
aliens.
Those who have encountered the man in the black hat have been cursed by a series of
unfortunate events. I have also determined that the man in the fedora keeps his interests
within certain families and follows them throughout the generations. Every time I have seen
his shadowy figure I am struck by bad luck or some other violent occurrence. The last time I
seen him my 35 year old sister passed away from cancer. I am very curious to have a
conversation with my sister and ancestors to see if they too seen the man in the black hat?
Has my family been plagued by the man in the black hat for centuries?
Author Heidi Floss wrote a book about the man in the black hat entitled The Hat Man: The
True Story of Evil Encounters. While she was conducting her research on the man her family
and friends began to see the man in the black hat. Can these entities detect when we are
investigating them? The man in the black hat has been seen quite frequently on more and
more occasions. As of late sightings of the man in the black hat have been followed by
dreams that come true and nightmares of a bleak future after a nuclear war. Is there
something going on we dont know about? Is the mysterious man in the black fedora trying to
tell us something? Or is he more sinister and trying to take our souls?
References: Redfern, N. (2014). Mysterious Universe. Beware of the Hat Man. Retrieved
from: http://mysteriousuniverse.org/2014/12/beware-of-the-hat-man/

Shadow People: A Vague and Ubiquitous Catch-All

by Virginia Carraway Stark
First of all I would like to make some distinctions:
The Men in Hats are NOT the same as Shadow People (See Men in Hats article)
The Men in Black are NOT the same as Shadow People. (See MIB article)
Jinn are NOT the same as shadow people.
Shadow people are a different phenomenon all
together even though they look similar. For
something to be a Shadow Person it is generally
agreed that the following must be true:
1. They have only an interest in watching
people and have never been known to hurt
anyone outside of Hollywood films.
2. They never wear clothing, they are only
shadows shaped like people
3. They may appear in areas where people are about to die or have died but there is no
direct evidence that they are ghosts.
4. There isn't any evidence about Shadow People pretty much at all. They are, after all,
just shadows.
The only time that they seem to cause direct harm to people is in the terror that they bring.
People have reported night paralysis and night terrors where shadow people fill their room but
they people do not hurt them. In fact, some witnesses report that the shadow people don't
even seem to see them.
I have heard a lot of justifications for Shadow People to say they are beneficent or at least
neutral beings but their presence when things are about to go terribly wrong suggest that
perhaps they have a motive that we have yet to determine.
Shadow people are frequently photographed or caught on video. One of the most famous
cases of this is at a rally shortly before the infamous slaughter at Jones town. The video at
first appears to me a normal event but once you start looking at it closely you can see
shadowy figures with glowing eyes by the dozens in the crowd of people.
For those who are unfamiliar with the tragedy and Jonestown, Jim Jones was a cult leader
who through devotion or forced caused the massacre of over 900 people, 300 of whom were
small children who were forced to drink a devil's brew of cyanide and every other poison 'The
Peoples Church' members could get their hands on.

One has to wonder if the shadow people are as harmless as some people claim, why were
they at the rally? They are passive, not seeming to try to warn the people or stop the
massacre and with their glowing eyes they seem to be eager for something to come.
No one has ever reported a shadow person hurting them or threatening them in any way
(although due to the confusion with Men in Hats and Men in Black there are a few confusing
reports). Are these shadow people remnants of energy that echo forward and backward in
time?
They certainly seem to appear where there are areas of high murder mortality. The highway of
Tears in British Columbia, Canada and the city of Prince George has more reports of shadow
people than many other places. It is known for the dozens or perhaps hundreds of missing
and murdered women cases, many of which are unsolved until this day. The cases that are
caught are grisly and disturbing. The area has a high level of UFO activity as well as
Sasquatch sightings but the connection between these three phenomenon is disparate at
best.
The bottom line is that there doesn't seem to be any logic between shadow people and well,
logic. They appear where there will soon be a tragedy, they appear where there is no known
tragedy, they appear to people who suffer sleep paralysis but the victims rarely report being
noticed by the shadowy people who walk through walls and seem largely oblivious of their
presence.

2016: The Year of the Red Fire Monkey

by Virginia Carraway Stark
The year of the red fire monkey. Wow. Is it just me or does that
sound like the start of something really intense. Let me start off by
giving you my own, Western Impressions of the year and then I'll
tell you what the real experts have to say on the matter.
Monkeys are really smart. I mean really smart. They are closely
related to humans but they aren't humans an we aren't the same
species (no breeding!). The year of the Monkey says to me that
it's time to really take a careful stock of everything you have.
Monkeys are clever an they are also thieves. They often make a
living by stealing from humans or other animals and don't bother
foraging for themselves. Not to say all monkeys are like this but a lot of monkeys wait around
human market places and steal as much as they can carry to feed themselves an their
families.
I don't want to generalize and say all monkeys are
thieves, but I have yet to have a single monkey offer
me legal tender.
So this says to me that it's a year of stealing. It's a
year where you have to work hard to hold on to what
you have and that attrition through petty theft is the
main danger of the year.

OK, good things about monkeys. Monkeys are cute. They can learn out to do things, like
Homer and his Helper Monkey. They can learn sign language and they can communicate with
people better than any other animal in the Chinese Zodiac. If they had dolphin, I think it would
be a tight race for the position, but not dolphin in the zodiac so monkey wins.
Future Notes: If I ever make up a Zodiac, don't forget to include dolphins. Better than Pisces
by a long shot.
More bad: Monkeys are close enough to humans to
harbor a lot of disease. Does this translate into the
zodiac? I don't know, it's not yet the year of the monkey
and the World Health Organization is telling everyone in
a huge swath of countries not to breed because of
some sort of mysterious 'Zika' virus that causes severe

birth defects. Coincidence Hmmmm, you decide. Lets do us all a favor and especially avoid
'bush meat' (meat found in the jungle anything from bats to monkeys and suspected of being
the origin of Ebola) a miss in the coming lunar year.
Every Chinese Zodiac comes with an element as well as a color. Well, here we have red and
fire put together nicely.
I don't know what the weather has been like where you are but where I am it has been one of
the warmest, driest winters ever and that spells a summer of forest fires.
Red does not sound like a happy monkey. To me, a red monkey is an angry monkey.
Underlying this with fire really makes me go: This is not a happy year.
Angry, hot year of the thief. Well then.
All I can say is that I have a few concerns about the coming year from what this invokes in
me.
This is what the Chinese have to say about the Red Fire Monkey:
'No Chinese Zodiac sign is as full of tricks and fun as that of the Monkey. Monkeys are clever
and playful, and love practical jokes and pranks. A person born under the Chinese Zodiac
sign of the Monkey simply can't help playing tricks, and it sometimes causes him or her to
lose friends. Monkeys are usually not very sensitive, and do not understand why others get
their feelings hurt from a joke. When someone takes offense, a Monkey does not usually take
responsibility. He or she is too light-heated for that. The result is that Monkeys tend to make
friends with those that, like them, are more thick-skinned.'
More: http://www.gotohoroscope.com/chinese-year/fire-monkey.html
OK, well that sounds kind of like what I was saying about
them not being the best friends to hang around with. This
focuses more on the prankster side of things (which I had
completely forgotten about) and is somewhat worrying as
well.
The same article said that the direct translation for this year
is, 'monkey climbing the mountain'. I kind of like that one. It
takes it away from the idea of tricks and thieves and more to
achievements and journeys. I can see why it is also
recommended as a good year to start new ventures and try
new things.
We are also warned that friends can suddenly flip on you. Apparently the fire monkey is a
jealous little bugger and he doesn't like competition. The fire monkey can flip out at you and
leave you on the losing end if you aren't watching your friends for signs of competitive anger
or jealousy.

Another thing, I hate to harp on this, but back to the forest fires and the warm dry winter thing:
forest fires climb mountains as well. Just sayin'.
The more I look into the traditional meanings of the year and no matter how positive of a spin
people seem to put on it, it seems to come down to the ancient Chinese curse: May you live
in interesting times.
Speaking as someone who is never boring
and has always lead an interesting life all I
have to say is that I better be quick as a little
monkey flame dancing from tree top to tree
top over the next year because if my life gets
any more interesting it could be the death of
me!
Really and truly. This year brings interesting times even to those who are safe and bland and
square and have never had anything happen in their life worth mentioning. The Red Fire
Monkey is pretty crazy and the way world events have been unfolding I'm going to advise you
take red in the traditional warning color and watch your ass(ets). After this new moon on
February 8, 2016 we are all in for a roller coaster ride.
One last piece of advice on this ride: don't bother with the seat belt, you might
want to be able to make a quick escape.

The Lunar Lunacy Effect

by Jenn Spaulding
I dont know if there are men on the moon, but if there are they must be using earth as their
lunatic asylum.-George Bernard Shaw
The lunar lunacy effect, or to put it simply people acting crazy
when there is a full moon is an ancient belief, that has stuck through
modern times. People today still believe that a full moon makes people
act like lunatics. The word lunatics itself is derived from the Roman
Goddess Luna. Even Aristotle and the Roman historian Pliny the Elder
believed that because the brain is the moistest organ in the body that
the full moon must have an effect because it had an effect on the
oceans. During the European Middle Ages people called it the
Transylvania Effect because they believed that humans would
transform into vampires and werewolves during the full moon.
In todays society it is thought that the full moon has magical powers and that it causes
people to behave erratically. That there are more visits to psychiatric hospitals, more suicides,
homicides, visits to the emergency room, car crashes, hockey game fights, dog bites, and
other weird happenstances during a full moon. A survey found that 45% of college students
believe that the full moon influences people to behave oddly. Another survey conducted
states that mental health professionals believe this too.
Because we as humans are 80% water many think that is
why the moon has a strange effect on us. Could the moon
possibly be messing with the alignment of our water
molecules located in our nervous system? Not likely. For
starters the gravitational effects of the moon on our brain
activitys is too nanoscale to effect it, much less our behavior.
Next the moon has a gravitational force effect upon oceans,
lakes, and other open bodies of water. However it has no
effect upon water in contained sources; such as our brains. Lastly the moons gravitational
effect during a full moon is just as powerful during a new moon; which we do not see.
Quite honestly no evidence exists for those who believe in the lunar lunacy effect.
Psychologists James Rotton and Ivan Kelly, and astronomer Roger Culver scoured the earth
for data lending credence to the link between the moon and lunacy, yet came up with nothing.
The team performed a meta-analysis which is a statistical procedure that a combination of the
answers of a number of studies are treated as one big study. They discovered that full moons
are completely uncorrelated to an abundance of incidents including crime, suicides,
psychological problems, and 911 calls.
Instead they found that full moons have occurred on numerous holidays and weekends.
In which people behave more rowdily anyhow. Studies have found that because people have

always believed that the full moon makes people act crazy, we just believe it. This effect is
called illusory correlation. Illusory correlation is the awareness we have of an affiliation that is
not there. For example, people who have arthritis are said to feel pain when it rains but no
data exists in support that this is true. Illusory correlations in fact trick us into identifying
phenomenon even when there is nothing there. Like flickering mirages on a hot day. If there is
a full moon and odd occurrences happen we remember and tell others. When there is a full
moon and nothing strange happens we simply forget. This is selective recall. Which then
forces us to falsely see a link between the full moon and a plethora of odd occurrences.
It is the very error of the moon. She comes more near the
earth than she was wont. And makes men mad.- William
Shakespeare

References: Arkowitz, H. (2009). Scientific American. Lunacy and the Full

Moon: Does a full moon really trigger strange behavior. Retrieved from:
http://www.scientificamerican.com/article/lunacy-and-the-full-moon/

Hubal and the Great Lunar Muslim Debate

by Virginia Carraway Stark
The Muslims are one of the only people to follow a
strictly lunar calendar. Most so called, 'lunar calendars'
are in fact 'solitary' calendars which means that despite
following the lunar cycles equinox and solstice ground
the calendars into a more or less stable cycle. The
solilunar calendar adjusts itself by adding extra days or
the occasional additional month to keep itself more or
less lined up with the seasons. For example, the Jewish
calendar follows the solilunar rhythms and every so often
they will have the month of Adar and then Adar 2 (the
revenge of Adar).
The Muslim calendar is solely based off the moon cycles and as a result of this their holidays
and months are not anchored in the seasons even remotely. Every 33 years the calendar
returns to where it was before and otherwise it wanders where it will.
The Muslim Calendar changes months when the crescent moon appears on the horizon.
Each culture who follows any sort of lunar calendar has a different way of deciding when the
new month starts, some say the full moon and some say the new (like the Chinese New Year
for example).
It is strictly denied by Muslims that this (or any other aspect of their culture or religion) was
influences by what came before Islam which was focused on the worship of many gods but
centered on the worship of the god 'Hubal'.
He is a god that we know little about
as all remnants of his worship were
destroyed by Mohammad and his
army who knew that his success in
spreading his new religion was
dependent on getting rid of the
competition, the competition in the
case being Hubal. Nevertheless,
stories of Hubal remain, the ancient
moon god of divination who stood at
the center of the Kabah stone at
Mecca with 360 gods on shelves
around him.
He was an idol build out of red agate. His right hand was cut off and replaced with a golden
hand. It is rumored that human sacrifice was done and that the sons of Kings were killed at
the feet of Hubal as an offering. The offering, or any other question, was decided by writing

the questions or names on arrows which would be thrown at the statue. A complex system
interpreted the results.
Critics of the Muslim culture claim that Hubal still lives on in many forms and traditions of
Islam. From the Crescent moon that adorns their mosques, banners and flags to the strict
lunar calendar they adhere to some claim that Hubal was never really destroyed.
Even the strict adherence to not depicting any
human form in art shows a sort of fear of the
culture that came before Allah was the only god
the people of the region. The word 'Allah' has
no other meaning but 'the god'. It was used as a
general term, and some archeologists believe
that 'Allah' may have started off as the high god
of the pantheon much as Zeus ruled Olympus.
Some documents refer to three goddesses that
were said to be the daughters of Allah.
So much of the original culture was destroyed
by the followers of Mohammad that we are left
with scraps and pieces of ancient graffiti that reference, 'the son of Hubal' with no other
information. The Kabah stone was believed to have once been central to moon worship of the
God Hubal who was thrown down along with the 360 other deities who resided there. Many
scholars believe that the shrine of Mecca was originally devoted to the moon, sun and five
other planets as well.
Whatever the case, the Muslims are the only culture with a truly Lunar
calendar. The answers for why this is adhered to when so much of the rest of
their ancient traditions have been lost in the mists of time and cultural rewriting
is unknown.

The Kin
by Virginia Carraway Stark
They didn't know they were called 'dragons', they only learned that after Death Valley and
everything that followed after.
They called themselves 'The Kin' or simply 'Kin' and their fate intertwining with the fates of
humans couldn't have been forseen by anyone.
The entire venture was started by Gregori Kinkin. He was a most reputable member of the
Kin, one of the great minds of his generation and his ideas were almost always taken
seriously no matter how absurd they seemed at the outset.
But why would we want to leave Anerthia? Asked one of the younger of the group. The Kin
enjoyed social events and like-minded people would gather together in establishments that
were earily similar to pubs on earth.
Just to see what we might see, Gregori explained to the youngling.
How do we know that we might see anything? Asked one of the others.
Gregori had been putting a great deal of thought into his revolutionary idea, he didn't speak
without having thoroughly thought out all the ins and outs. He knew the others looked up to
him and he ddidn't want to point them in the wrong direction or confuse them. The Kin were all
liable to over-think things and it took hundreds of years of practice such as Gregori had to
work things out properly.
He had eaten seared meat with cheese and toast and tea, masticatating while cogitating the
idea of 'out there'. He had thought about it until steam had come out of his ears and he had
been forced to put a bag of ice on his head to cool it off.
What might be 'out there'? He asked aloud to his empty library. There had never been reason
to ask, even a young dragon knew that you could only fly so high before the air grew too thin
to go higher. The upper reaches of the sky were beyond their scope although they had
learned dragons who studied the stars and their movements. Gregori was no afficianodo of
the night sky, he didn't have the learning about the stars and their courses and other dragons
who had devoted to their lives to studying heavenly bodies had. That was what had brought
the idea to him with sudden clairity that there was a 'here' and there was also an 'out there'.

We can only fly so high before we run out of air, we can't fly 'out there', why wonder about
something that we can't attain? Asked Old Steamer. He was a clever old fellow as well even
if he was stodgy and set in his ways.
That's my proposal, that we put our brains together and make a sort of vessel immune to a
lack of air, if we could propel it, perhaps we could get higher than we can with our wings and
see 'out there'.
Rubio pondered the problem, they weren't the sort of race that had developed complex
engines or machinery. There had never been much of a point to it since transportation was
easily accomplished and their planet rich but sparsely populated.
The Kin were the only intelligent life on the land and except for a bit of diving and fishing they
mostly left those in the ocean alone. The intelligent life in the sea was much too large to
mistake for anything that one of the Kin would ever hunt and neither had much interest in
getting to know each other.
The planet itself had narrow seas and an ambitious Kin who didn't mind a bit of gliding and a
bit of fishing along the way could make the journey to the other continents. In this way they
had circled their globe, explored it and discovered that they were indeed the only intelligent
beings on the planet. Unlike many planets, this one seemed content to keep its land animals
small and the Kin themselves were only at their largest the size of a poodle and the smaller of
them were the size of kittens.
The largest lifeform that the Kin had discovered in their travels was the size of a small deer
and stupider than a fly. They would run away if startled and run into the same tree repeatedly
if it couldnt' figure out how to go around it.
The ocean was an entirely different world and doesn't belong in this story so we shall save
that for another day.
Having explored the whole of their planet it was only natural after a certain point that they
would, as most intelligent civilizations do, turn their eyes towards the stars. The problem was
the lack of industry or technology. They had never had a reason to make any and as a
species lacked ambition.
Glass blowing was a breeze for the dragons who had only to take a few pieces of hollowed
out iron wood and blow fire into the sand. Some dragons were better at it than others and
would make fantastic creations but it was easy enough for even a young dragon to learn how
to make simple bottles and jars. Their clever talons would strip corkwood bark to size and
they had the beginnings of their own breweries which were one of the few things that the Kin
considered integral to life.
Their planet was generally temperate but they avoided making permanent homes at the
poles, preferring the substantial equator to make their homes and nests in. They laid few eggs
and maintained a fairly stable population level. Occasional outbreaks of scale blight may take
their numbers down a bit every five or six generations but they had noticed that it only

happened when their population began to get too dense and it was only likely to kill the very
old or the ill amongst them.
In short, they had little motivation to do much in life which was why they formed social clubs
and read the writings of the dragons who had come before them, written in the beautiful
language of the Kin on scrolls of various sizes.
What Gregori was suggesting was out of character for their species in every way. 'Out there'
had done nothing to harm them or to suggest that it involved them in any particular way, why
fly higher than you know your wings will take you?
Still, after the subject was first breached, none of the dragons who had been in the room with
Gregori on that fateful evening were quite able to shake the conversation from their mind.
Rubio watched the stars appear at night and he began to wonder what they were really made
of.
There were the stories that they told each other of the Great One who had thought so long
and hard that he had exploded into the sun that warmed their scales. They spoke of the stars
as 'the sparks of the kin', some claiming them to be the spirits of loved ones lost.
Rubio didn't believe overly in the stories of The Great One. He couldn't imagine that anyone,
no matter how great and how hard they thought could continue to burn as long as he had. It
was the idea of the stars themselves that intrigued him. If they were truthfully the Sparks of
the Kin, perhaps if you could fly high enough, you might be able to visit with them. That would
be something, to hear the voice of his love once more, or the feel the caress of his mother.
Everytime the sun disappeared and the stars began to dot the sky, Rubio wondered about
Gregori's idea that they 'just go have a look'.
Every dragon had, at some point in their lives, defied the wise warnings of their elders and
flown higher that was safe. Rubio remembered in his own youth leaving his mother's side in a
sudden dash, the idea of testing the strength of his wings and flying as high as he could was
a strobe light inside in his brain.
His mother called after him to come back but the feeling of elation he felt was stronger than
his mother's command. It was called 'height sickness' and some dragons would occasionally
indulge in it out of boredom. It was a dizzy feeling when the air started to grow to thin, almost
like drinking too much of a strong brew. The sense was followed by a feeling in your wings,
like the air itself was slipping from his grasp. Rubio felt blackness creep across his vision and
he fell towards the ground in a tumbling heap.
He awoke a few moments later once he reached a safer altitude, his mother had him in her
claws and she wasn't gentle about it. She might not have spared the talon but she had little to
say about it. She had done the same thing herself when she was around Rubio's age, she too
had been flying with her mother and flown too high.
Rubio had been chastened and had never pursued those heights again. The feeling of the air

being too thin for his wings to catch hold of and the sensation of his brain no longer being his
own were not pleasant ones. Besides, there was nothing up there. Nothing but blackness and
falling to the ground. He probably would have woken up on his own before he hit the ground
and gracelessly righted himself but there were those who didnt' andd some of the Kin were
killed by height regularly enough that it was only the reckless who climbed high more than
once.
Although the idea had caught the attention of more than just the dragons in the Society house
that night Gregori had finally told them his idea it is likely nothing more would have come of it
if random happenstance hadn't changed everything.
The skies of the Planet of the Kin were generally a quiet place. They had no moons, no
massive asteroid belts to traverse in their yearly trip around the sun. It was rare to have a
visitor to their skies and when one came to them, they were excited beyond the norm as the
question Gregori had posed had been asked by nearly every dragon by the time the slow
moving comet started moving through their lower atmosphere.
They had seen it coming for weeks, growing brighter and brighter as it approached. It was
headed straight for the Planet of the Kin and it came to more than one mind that perhaps it
wouldn't veer away, perhaps it was on a collsion course with their planet. Every night it was
closer and brighter but the wisest dragon heads came together and conferred, calculated and
concluded that it was going to skim through their sky but that it wouldn't crash into their
planet.
The Kin weren't, as mentioned before, perhaps as scientific as they could be and the
conferring included mathematical equations, tragectory projections and the casting of bones
but whatever their methods of discernment they were trusted by The Kin. Soon they were
talking about possibilities rather than doom and that was how The Plan was hatched.
The comet would continue through their sky and go to places unknown, it could be used as a
vessel for the dragons to discover if their really was an 'out there'. The problems in figuring
out how this could be accomplished were countless and as the comet drew closer their
conversation grew more animated.
We know none of us could survive if the comet took us up high and far, there isn't air to
breathe up there and we would freeze to death.
It is cold up there, A matron agreed.
Gregori was rubbing his temples with his talons and looking at the equations that had been
written in the sand and were crossed with the thrown bones. He didn't believe that thoughts
were random, he believed the mind of The Kin were fundamentally ordered an so therefore
having his thought about 'out there' when he had was proof that there was a way to make the
comet work for them.
One of us could ride it, perhaps if we made a suit of glass and stuffed it with things that
would insulate from the ceold we could ride it long enough to see what's out there.

It might work, Agreed another. They could fall off before it left and we could catch them if
they passed out. When they woke up they could tell us what they had seen.
Gregori shook his scaled head, It won't work, there's still no air to breathe. They will pass out
and not see anything and maybe not fall off in time and be carried off to where it gets colder
still and there is even less air and we will know nothing more and they will likely be dead.
I have an idea, Said Rubio. He had been silent for most of the argument. Slow thoughts
were moving through his head and he knew what he was suggesting might be pointless, they
might never learn the answers they sought. But it was a brave plan, and it might work.
We can't survive the cold. We can't survive without air, but our eggs can.
The others turned to look at Rubio in shock. What he was suggesting could result in the
murder of their own children. Eggs were rare for the dragons and the loss of one was
devastating.
We know our eggs can survive the cold. We have discovered eggs that were frozen at the
south pole and when exposed to heat again they hatched perfectly normal hatchlings. They
could have been laid at the same time as their siblings there was so little difference between
them. Some of them were frozen deep in the ice where there was no air, it didn't matter. Once
the conditions changed the eggs were able to hatch and at no detriment to the younglings.
The others pondered, it was Rubio's wife Flora who finally replied to him, But darling, what if
there is nothing out there but cold and dark, then our eggs will never hatch. She had two
eggs at home in her nest and she was anxiously watching the proceedings. Rubio's
suggestion had immediately placed their eggs in the crosshairs. After all, if they weren't willing
to try with their own eggs then why should someone else try with their own eggs?
It's true, they might never hatch. It's also true that they might never return to tell us of what
they find out there, but The Kin have always had a knowing of each other. We sense when
our loved ones die, we sense when our loved ones are born. We might not know how or
where they were born, but if we somehow use this comet as a vessel for our eggs, we will
have the knowing of their birth.
Or of their death, Flora added in a gentle, sad voice. Rubio looked away from her, he
couldn't meet her multi-faceted gaze and face the sorrrow he saw in it.
If we built glass bottles to fill with air, perhaps we could fly a bit higher and longer, Gregori
added, he had been thinking while the others had been weighing the ethical side of the matter
and for him it was a viable plan and the only thing left was the implementations. Let the others
have their doubts and their uncertainties. How often would a chance like this come along?
Rubio's plan was sound, the only question was how to attach the eggs safely to the comet
and how low would the comet fly. He had experimented with the bottles of air, corked until
needed and found that while the air was still difficult he could fly a bit higher than without the
air. It was a heavy burden to carry though and the relief it brought was short lived.

They had seen comets before and had read of comets that had zoomed low enough and slow
enough for their forebearers to briefly investigate them. They were described as hunks of ice
and rock with more ice and more rock underneath. It wouldn't be easy to make an egg stick to
that.
Fersward was usually silent at these gatherings. He was an 'Old Head' as the dragons called
the ones who had lived for time immemorial. Some said Fersward was thousands of years old
and he said nothing to discourage these rumors. His interest had always been in digging
gemstones. He would sometimes take promising youngsters out with him and teach them
where to dig for seems of the shiny baubles that The Kin and especially the Lady Kin adored.
It was traditional to present a Lady Dragon with the largest and most shiny gem they could
find and Fersward knew where these were. He had helped more than one young dragon find
the exact right gemstone to match the glow of their lady love's scales or eyes, chuckling all
the while at the youngling's foolish lovestruck behavior.
His own Lady Love and the story there was another story itself and his adventures could fill
volumes. His words, however, were simple, We dig the eggs a nest.
There wasn't a lot of time to organize and set up the endeavor. Volunteers were desperately
sought who would sacrifice one of their eggs to discover was was 'out there'. Rubio and Flora
fought and cried and agreed to send their beautiful periwinkle egg on the proposed voyage.
Flora had laid two eggs and many dragons would only lay three in their entire lives. This was
the second egg she had laid. She hugged the first one to her as they took the periwinkle one
away, her fuschia eyes were filled with tears as she blew soothing flame over the garnet
colored first born she had chosen to save.
The Kin constructed four nets with three eggs in each. Relay teams would spell each other off
as four dragons carried a corner of each of the nets. Younglings flew back and fourth to bring
air in glass jars to those carrying the eggs.
A fifth net was made to carry another burdern entirely: Fersward and his carefully designed
digging tools.
He was good at digging but he wasn't as good at flying as when he had been younger and he
submitted to being carried like one of the eggs with many a grumble and complaint about
being 'carried like a package that they were just as likely to drop as not'. The four dragons
who would carry Fersward gave them their word that they wouldn't let him fall and assured
him that he would be supplied with air constantly as well so he would be conscious the whole
time and tell them what they were doing wrong.
The day finally came when the comet entered their atmosphere. Much would rely on luck and
even more on skill but they would try and if they failed the eggs would be returned to their
fretful mothers and fathers and the entire thing woulld be called off.
The eggs were very strong, it was likely that even if they were dropped from such a height
they would remain unbroken while a hatched dragon would fall to their death.

With the comet fast approaching and lower than they had anticipated many wondered if the
ones who had cast bones and trajectories had been wrong and it would hit the Planet of the
Kin and kill them all without anyone ever knowing if there was an 'out there' until they were
sparks of dragon light themselves, flickering out in the night sky.
The nets were raised, each dragon who tired was replaced quickly with one who was fresh
and unburdened. The net with Fersward was the last to arrive on the comet that was larger
than they had imagined. Fersward nodded with satisfaction. He hadn't voiced his concern,
that there wouldn't be enough depth to the comet to safely bury the eggs, there was no way of
knowing until they arrived.
Fersward nodded and shook his head. To the dragons on the speeding comet this was
unnerving to say the least. They didn't have much air and were constantly getting more
brought to them. If the comet rose and further they would likely have to jump off and throw the
eggs to the ground and hope for the best.
He took out a tool he had designed by means that none of the other dragons knew and struck
a line in the comet that it seemed only he could see it was so small. It widened into a fissure
and with four more expert hits he had opened what was essentially a little 'hatch' into the
comet.
Under the crusty outer layer was a softer inner layer and Fersward made quick work of it and
dug out a space big enough for twelve dragon eggs.
As soon as they saw that Fersward was digging dragons began bringing up bottle after bottle
of sand with which they filled in any missing gaps in their new nest and dumped them in after
the eggs were deposited. They would have a sturdy, safe nest for their journey to discover if
there truly was an 'out there'. Perhaps the knowing would tell them when their young hatched,
or perhaps it would tell them when their children died, but they had comitted to this course
now. Fersward poured fresh sand over the hatch as he replaced it. The comet was lifting up
and going higher once more. It wasn't going to hit the planet, it was going to resume its
heavenly course.
He was weak from lack of air but took one of the remaining bottles of air and used it to get
enough air to seal the sand he poured into the cracks of the hatch into solid glass.
He and his great great nephew were the last to leave. His nephew refused to leave his uncle
and together they fell from the comet, plummeting as they lost the air and blackness was all
that was left to them.
Fersward and his nephew were caught as they neared the ground in the nets they had used
to carry them and the eggs to the comet. All twelve eggs had been deposited and not a single
one of The Kin was injured in the momentous undertaking.
Flora and Rubio saw their first born hatch and felt no knowing from their second born. There
was no hatching there but there was also no death.

Something exists out there. If there was nothing out there, Periwinkle would have died and
we would know, Rubio would say. Flora wouldn't respond. To have had two eggs at once was
a rare blessing that she had sacrificed to uncertainty in the name of bravery and discovery,
two emotions that did not blend well with motherhood.
It was a long time before Flora felt the knowing about Periwinkle. She was over a thousand
years old when she felt it. Something had happened, Perwinkle had hatched.
Rubio came out of the den, his face alight, Did you feel it? He asked his still beautiful wife
whose scales had gone pale from age.
She nodded and they delicately licked each other's tongues, The Kin's way of giving a kiss.
She was a little girl, Flora said in wonder. She had only ever had one child, the one egg she
had kept and she had never laid another. She and Rubio had a handsome and strong son
who had grown up and had two younglings of his own and one of them had had a hatching as
well.
She is a little girl, Rubio corrected gently. 'Wherever she is out in the great, 'out there', she is
our little girl and she is alive and well.'
The other dragons who had contributed eggs to the exploration and who were still alive soon
felt the knowing as well.
Fersward hadn't aged much since he had dug the hole in the comet that had kept the
hatchlings safe on their adventure through the great 'out there' and he smugly smiled as the
others came to congratulate him on his clever hatch.
Gregori had aged considerably and was now and 'Old Head' himself. He tried to read the
bones for the children he had cast out into the galaxy based off of a question that had popped
into his head but he didn't understand the reading. Perhaps the children would return one day
and tell them of 'out there'. Perhaps the children wouldn't remember the Planet of the Kin and
they would wonder at their own origins. Gregori himself had written a scroll that had been
included with the eggs that attempted to explain why the children had been cast out into the
'out there' and that they were loved. He used their elaborate alphabet but he also used basic
pictures that he hoped any youngling could read in case they couldn't learn the alphabet on
their own.
They might never learn of their children's adventures but on the other hand,
they just might and they all knew now, there was an 'out there'.

Two old bitties sitting on their veranda, discuss life - and death.

Two women in their late sixties sat in matching rocking chairs on their veranda, with a small
table positioned comfortably between them. It held a silver ice bucket and a half empty
decanter of expensive brandy, beside it. A silver pair of ice tongs nestled among the ice in the
bucket. The women paused in their conversation periodically to add ice or brandy to the
crystal brandy snifter they each held.
Insects buzzed in the overgrown flowering bushes that grew haphazardly along the full length
of the deep old fashioned veranda. The old women could see the entire neighbourhood from
the vantage point of a slight rise in their lawn from the curb to their house. They could see
everyone else, but no one could see them, because of the shadows that darkled everything
under the roof, in the late October evening.
Just look at this lawn, Ethel. It's all but a hayfield. It's dreadful the way that lazy gardener, Mr.
Jansen lets it go. We shall have to let him go if this continues. Tut tut! Agnes rocked back
and forth vigorously, as she complained.
I believe he quit early in the summer, Agnes. He said we hadn't paid him for three whole
weeks. What a vicious liar that man was! I made sure all the neighbours knew it too. I also
told them he must have taken the family silver plate as well. I haven't been able to find it. I
wanted to take it out and polish it. Ethel swirled the ice in her snifter, watching the amber
liquid with a deep frown on her face.
If I remember correctly, mother sold that silver plate to bury father, some twenty years ago,
Ethel. Either that, or we sold it to bury mother. It seems to me that old silver buried
somebody.
Tsk tsk it doesn't matter. I'm sure Mr. Jansen stole something or other while he worked for us.
Besides, he called me a half crazy old bag. Dreadful, just dreadful! He deserved to be
investigated by the police.
The two spinster sisters rocked in silence for awhile, as they sipped their brandy and
grumbled halfway to themselves, and halfway to each other.
I see the Kramer house across the street is still up for sale. Ethel remarked, as she reached
for the decanter.
"That's not surprising, considering that old Joel Kramer hanged himself from the mezzanine

banisters. That is such a beautiful house. It's going to fall apart entirely, if someone doesn't
buy it soon. If Joel hadn't been such a womanizer, that would have been my home now."
Agnes sighed.
"I don't think that one woman constitutes womanizing, Agnes. Besides, that would never have
been your home unless you bought it. Joel would never have lived there with you as your
husband." Ethel turned toward her sister as she stirred her drink.
"Joel had been in love with Andrea ever since we were all kids together. I don't know why you
went after him like you did. You wrecked my chances with Andrea's brother Tom, with your
lies, rumours and innuendo about Andrea. You knew she wasn't cheating on Joel, and so did
he. That's why he married her."
"Hmph. She was away at a big university. She could have been having wild parties with boys
for all you know, Ethel. How do you know that Joel wouldn't have been my husband? He
loved me, I know he did. He would have married me if I'd had a little more time with him, but
he up and moved to Andrea's University town after her first semester."
"That was all your own fault, Agnes. You made his life miserable with the way you stalked
him, day and night. He would never have married you, even if he had stayed here. I don't
know why you wouldn't leave him alone. He never came back here for decades, even to visit
his parents. They always had to go to his place to see him."
"That's because he was a wimp. He told me once that he was afraid of me, I don't know why.
He seemed to blame me for the death of that mangy old mutt of his, the summer before he
left." Agnes leaned back in her chair and rocked silently for a few minutes.
"I saw you feeding his dog hamburger in the middle of the night, Agnes. He died of poisoning
the next day. That seems like too much of a coincidence, to me."
"I fed him to shut him up. He was always barking whenever I went over to visit Joel." Agnes
replied, her voice rising with temper.
"Visit, is that what you call it? I call it peeking through windows, and snooping on him. No
wonder he and Andrea never came back until his father died and left him the house. You were
less than friendly when Joel, his children and grandchildren moved in three years ago. Your
behaviour was dreadful." Ethel's voice also rose in agitation.
"Why should I be friendly to Andrea? She stole my boyfriend! She put a spell on him or
something. She's a witch, I just know it!" Agnes grabbed the bottle of brandy and slopped a
large amount of it into her brandy snifter.
"If anyone's a witch, it's you, Agnes Lombardy! I know it was you who spread the evil and
vicious rumour that he was sexually abusing his six year old granddaughter. His daughter and
grandchildren moved out and left him with just his freeloader son and daughter in law in that
big old house. No wonder he hanged himself. What he should have done is hang you, you
horrible old hate monger!" Ethel rocked back and forth, faster and faster, in anger. Her sister
Agnes did the same.

Epilogue:
On Halloween night, two teenage girls hurried past the Lombardy house with fearful glances.
Suddenly, one of them stopped and stared up at the crumbling old mansion.
"Hurry up, Annie, we'll be late for the party."
"I thought I saw something up there on that veranda. I thought I heard a creaking sound too,
Laura."
"It's just your imagination, Annie. There's no ghost up there. We've been all through it during
the daytime."
"I know, but tonight is different. This is the tenth anniversary of old Ethel Agnes Lombardy's
death. She apparently got wasted on brandy, and rocked herself right down those steep
steps. The neighbours heard her screaming at somebody, but the housekeeper and her
husband said she was all alone that night. Everyone who knew her said she was crazy.
Sometimes she was the sweetest person, and then sometimes she was evil incarnate."
"I know, talk about your split personality."
"Dreadful, just dreadful."

The Ballad of Ferdinand the Mechanical Monkey

by Virginia Carraway Stark
My first memories were of green. Green and my mother. I was born with strong arms to cling
and my mother's strong arms hugged me back. I felt like nothing could ever go wrong with her
arms around me.
At first I clung to her constantly and she fed me milk from her breast. Sometimes the adults
would fight but I always felt safe in my mother's arms.
The green of the leaves brought flowers that are dim in my memory and soon I was weaned
from my mother when the flowers turned to green mangoes and then started to blush. My
mother barely had to show me how to peel into the sweet fruit inside. She plucked them for
me at first but soon I wasn't happy to wait and I was grabbing them off their strong stems
myself.
This was the springtime of my life and I would never see the like of those sweet days filled
with sweet orange fruit and the love of my mother ever again.
I soon made friends with the other monkeys my own age. We were getting bigger by the day
and although we were always attentive to our mother's and their warning cries. One shrill
warning meant that a tree snake was nearby but not in immediate danger. A series of shrieks
called the others to us and we would jump to our mother's arms and leap from the tree ahead
of the snakes who thought young monkeys were the perfect size for munching.
We soon discovered that not all other animals could climb and we would wait for those
animals in groups and then pelt them with nuts or under ripe fruit and shriek and laugh as
they would run away. Some of the big animals could climb the trees and we learned to be
quiet when the stealthy tigers walked across the forest floor below us. Some animals weren't
meant to be teased. The first tiger we teased nearly ate one of my friends and our mothers
scolded us after our escape. We covered our eyes and tried to hide our faces in their laps but
they would not stop their scolding until they had said their peace.
One day I saw a new animal walking through the forest. It was colored brightly but in drab
colors and was easy to see amidst the foliage. They walked upright and I looked around for
my friends to make fun of the funny looking beast but everyone was busy with a parrot they
were teasing and they laughed and hooted when I called them over. My drab colored beast
sounded boring compared to the bright feathers and sharp beak of a parrot to challenge.
I threw a nut down and to my surprise, the animal exclaimed and then took off the top of his
head. Underneath was a fluffy brown animal and he looked up in the tree and bared his teeth
when he saw me. I saw he was aggressive but he showed no sign of climbing up the trees so
I threw another nut at him and hit him in the middle of his bald forehead.
He made a noise like a scolding and shook his finger at me. Then called out to me in sounds I

had never heard from another animal. I didn't recognize the words but the tone was gentle. It
was much the sound my mother made when showing me something new that I was nervous
of. I jumped down a few more branches to get a better look at him.
He bared his teeth at me again and held out something on his hands. I could smell the
sweetness from my perch, it was sweeter even than the sweetest mango, almost the
sweetness of a honey comb but somehow even more so. I looked around. My mother was
gossiping with the other mothers and my friends were on the far side of the umbrella shaped
tree. I came a bit closer still. I smelled the sweetness.
He bared his teeth still but it was at odds with the cooing noises he made. I wondered if he
didn't mean to bare his teeth at me at all but was trying to share his treats with me. His eyes
were bright and blue. He wiped beads of water from his forehead and put the top of his head
back on.
I jumped away in surprise and he laughed at me. I recognized that sound too. I pointed at him
and laughed back at him. He held out the treats again, I was too wary to come to him though.
He was too new, too strange.
He left the treats on a low branch and walked away, glancing back once or twice and baring
his teeth at me.
Once he had left I went down a few more branches. The treats he had left tastes a little like a
fruit that I didn't know and they were sweet and chewy. I liked them very much. After I had
eaten the little pile of squares I went back up the tree and the mangoes didn't smell as sweet.
I ate one and after awhile it tastes sweet again but the remembrance of the little sweet chewy
squares filled my dreams as I lay in my mother's arms.
The next day the man came back again. He watched all of us playing and when he saw me
he waved his hand at me. He recognized me! I also saw that he had more little squares of
sweetness in his hand. I hooted at him and jumped up and down. The others watched
intrigued as the taupe beast came to the tree. He jabbered the whole time in his quiet voice,
occasionally confusing us with a hostile show of baring is teeth. The others decided to go
back to their games and pelted him with nuts. He covered his removable head with his arms
and jumped around, laughing and shaking his fists at us.
The others hooted their laughter and ran away but I waited, sure enough he left some
squares on one of the lower branches and said a few more words before leaving again. I
scampered down and shoved them into my cheeks. They were much sweeter then even the
sweetest honey.
Something fell on me, it was light, like a leaf but when I looked up the man in taupe was
standing right beside me. I bolted and got caught up in the netting that had been deftly placed
around me. I howled and screamed, my cheeks filled with melting squares of toffee muffling
my call for help. The taupe man deftly dumped me into a cage and slammed the door shut.
Most of the walls were covered in metal and no matter how I tried I couldn't claw the man's
hand as he picked up the metal handle and carried me off into the jungle and away from my

mother, my friends and family for the rest of my life.

I was put into a strange shelter along with other monkeys and animals, each of us in our own
separate cages. Sometimes I would scream, sometimes I would cry, mostly I just sat and
looked out at the world of captivity I had entered.
Days and nights passed, I hoped my mother would come to rescue me but she had no way of
knowing where I was and if she had come, she may have been captured too. Sometimes the
monkeys in our tribe would vanish, it was rare that anyone knew what had happened to them,
usually it was assumed they had fallen prey to a snake or other predator. I had never
imagined something like this happened. I wondered how many of my friends who had become
lost had ended up in these taupe colored worlds filled with others of their kind and natural
enemies.
It turned out that the taupe world was filled with taupe men with removable tops of their
heads. None of us could figure out their function. They put bottle of water on the outside of
our cages that they would suck water from and fed us fruit and candy through the bars. They
weren't cruel to us, they didn't mock us and they called us names fondly that over the weeks I
was there I came to associate with myself.
When one of them would say, Ferdinand, now you mustn't hurl your excrement at me like
that, it isn't very nice, I would know that he was addressing me even though most of the rest
of what he said went over my head.
A large empty cage was removed one day and a few days later it was returned with a tiger
inside of it. We all in the tent fell silent. The tiger was majestic and godlike despite his
humiliation and roared and paced in the confined space. When one of the taupe men got too
close to him the tiger clawed him well enough to draw blood despite the sturdy metal bars.
Most of the cages were full now. There were even large glass jars filled with snakes. I
wondered what they had captured all of us for. After the tiger was caught it was as if a signal
had been given that it was time to go. The next day the men began the process of loading our
cages into large wooden carts. I watched with dread as the room emptied. What would they
do to us next?
I was taken in one of the last loads. The snakes were all gone and it was only myself a half
dozen other monkeys and the tiger. There were thick poles under the tiger's cage, eight men,
two to each pole and with much grunting and some growling from the tiger he left the taupe
room. They were about it a long time with the tiger and when they finally came back it was to
pick up my cage and carry it outside the tent I had been in for some time by now.
I was happy to smell the fresh air. Even though I tried to fling my waste out of my cage it was
dirty and I was caked in muck. I was itchy from ticks and lice that I was unable to have
groomed to remove. Seeing the green of the jungle again, I felt unworthy. As though I had
gone on a great journey and returned less than when I had left.
I cowered in my cage and the put me into one of the wooden wagons, right next to the tiger. I

could hear him growling and moaning his own wretched state. Already his cage stank, even
covered over so that he couldn't see me nor me him. Soon they brought out more cages until
I was under a heap of cages, caught in with the predatory stench of the tiger and his wrath at
being captured as well as the filth of the other monkey and animals whose cages hadn't been
changed since we had been captured.
The wagon moved down a rutted path. Pulled by an elephant it still would get stuck in the
mud and the taupe-headed men would curse and swear and the wagon would be rocked and
the tiger would growl with more ferocity each time.
Nervously, I tried to groom myself. I was matted and filthy. My fluffy fur was unrecognizable
and I stank of my filth. The fresh air only augmented how badly we all stank. I thought this
was the end for us. That they would either take us and kill us or set us free. I didn't know it
was only the beginning of the story and much more would follow.
Eventually we reached the end of the road and I smelled the sea for the first time. We were
loaded onto the ship along with other things, fruit, spices, things I couldn't identify. I was
grateful this time not to be placed right beside the tiger who was furious now and grabbed the
bars of his cage and shook them as they sent his big cage down into the same rocking
darkness that they had sent me.
The taupe headed men didn't mind. They weren't coming with us. I never saw them again.
This was long before I understood the concept of commerce, but had I understood it, I would
have realized that the whole lot of us had just been sold to a trader.
We traveled for a long time. We were fed and our water bottles were changed. Big chunks of
meat were chopped into smaller pieces and dropped in to the tiger who I could watch in the
dim light of the hold. The men spoke loudly and sometimes poked the tiger with sticks to hear
him roar and watch him break the sticks. They rarely did the same to the rest of the
menagerie in with me, the tiger was the big attraction.
I had only seen glimpses of tigers before. They were perfectly camouflaged with the dappled
light of the forest and now I could behold on I wondered how anyone had dared to capture
such a magnificent beast. How had they not run before him to the tallest of the tree branches
and hoped he would go on his way.
He paid the rest of us no head except occasionally when he was bored to watch us with his
intelligent, amber eyes. He licked himself to keep clean as best he could and lifted one leg so
that he would pee on the cages and hay next to him rather than in his own cage. Watching
him, I did the same, much to the surprise of those around me. He didn't fling his excrement
but rather pushed it out of his cage with prim, clawed feet. I worked to groom myself and
would use my water bottle to try to wash some of the dirt from my fur.
You see, I was learning new things already?
When the ship docked I was unloaded in a noisy place and a man exchanged some pieces of
metal for me and walked away with my cage.

The man was named Marcelo and I would get to know him very well. He whistled while he
walked through the noisy streets and sang under his song. We went into a new type of
building and up some stairs and some more stairs until we came to a little door. Marcelo
unlocked the door as I watched the glitter with fascination We went into a room and it was far
from the noise of the city, the noise of the animals and the noise of ship. It was one room with
a little bathroom.
I watched Marcelo He took the metal sides off my cage so I could see all around the room.
It says on your cage your name is Ferdinand. Do you like the name, my little friend? He
asked.
I looked up at the mention of my name. The taupe headed people had always given me sugar
treats or figs when they had called me that.
I see you like it well enough. Do you like me as well? I am Marcelo and we are to be friends,
at least I hope we will be. You look as though you have had a long adventure and you are far
from home. Perhaps you will forgive me one day and we will be friends all the same?
I didn't understand most of his words. I had picked up a few words here and there but not
nearly enough to follow the man who spoke loudly and quickly and slipped from English to
Italian without realizing that he had even done so.
He let me sit in my cage and watch him for awhile as he made his evening meal. He listened
to a voice coming out of box for awhile before turning it off with more words that I recognized
as cursing.
I'm not cursing at you, little monkey. It's this world that I curse. Come, let me make it up to
you a bit by setting you free of your cage.
He picked up my cage and carried it into the bathroom. He poured a little warm water into the
tub, closed the toilet lid and opened the door to my cage. I had been in it so long I was
frightened to leave. I was afraid he was trying to trick me somehow.
It's alright, Ferdinand, take your time, I'll be in the other room looking for food you will enjoy
and cursing this filthy world we live in.
He closed the bathroom door behind him, leaving my cage door open.
As soon as he was gone and I was fairly certain he wasn't coming back (I could hear him
singing and cursing in his kitchen) I crept out of my cage. I was rife with filth. I found that my
new companion had left the cage close to the little pool of water I had seen him make and I
crawled up the cage and over into the smooth edged pond.
Before I was clean, the water was filthy.

Marcelo opened the door cautiously, looking upward as though I might drop down from the
ceiling onto him. He smiled broadly when he saw me in the tub, I knew we were like minded,
I like to be clean as well!
He came in, shutting the door behind me. He moved slowly and sat on the edge of the toilet. I
could tell that he was as scared as I was. He was much bigger than me but had smaller teeth.
He reached into the tub and the water drained away. He turned on the water and let it run. It
was so warm. I walked closer to the stream of it and let it wash over me, shrieking as it got in
my eyes and running to the far end of the tub only to fall and shake myself off and go running
back to the warm torrent of water.
Marcelo sat on the toilet and talked to me while I washed, I couldn't understand him but if I
had been able to I would have heard him tell me that he was alone in this land too, far away
from his mother and father. He hoped he would be friends.
I couldn't understand his words but I understood his eyes, filled with kindness and tears. He
turned off the tap as I had tired of the water. I was already starting to get chill. I had lost
weight on my journey and when Marcelo took a warm towel and scooped me up in it I was too
tired and happy and relieved to be clean and warm that I forgot to be scared. He cradled me
in his arms and I fell asleep, he wasn't my family but he made me feel safe and loved and that
was what I needed.
When I woke up Marcelo had fallen asleep with me in his arms. He was snoring, a sound I
first thought was growling and then realized he was fast asleep. I had dried off and was
starving. The one room we lived in together was squalid compared to the jungle and a
paradise compared to the boat or the tent.
I wiggled out of Marcelos arms and found a bowl of fruit and started to eat it. I drank out of a
glass that had been left on the counter and found a corner to go to the washroom in. It was
dark outside now, I could see lights like giant fireflies. Exhausted and my belly distended with
fruit I crawled back into my blanket on Marcelos lap. I had never slept alone before being put
in the cage. I had slept with my mother, my siblings, my father, my cousins. I had never known
what it was like to fall asleep without the sound of heartbeats surrounding me. I had never
been so lonely.
I curled up and he woke up a little and bundled me back into my blanket. He looked around at
the house and the half eaten fruit still in the bowl and got up with me in his arms. He pulled
down a Murphy bed and put me under the covers with him and went to sleep.
I listened to the enormous sound of his heartbeat and fell back to sleep myself.
In the morning Marcelo was awake before me. I had to go to the bathroom and I saw that he
had picked up the mess I had made the night before and put it in a little box with some sand
in it. I got the hint and climbed into the box. Marcelo was in the pond, he was singing, his rich
baritone occasionally drowned in the deluge of water as he showered. I helped myself to
some more fruit and groomed myself on the counter.

Marcelo had taken off almost all of his fur and was wearing a blanket around his waste as he
sang. He stopped and bowed to me, Good morning, Ferdinand, I see you've had breakfast
already.
I watched him, he seemed to not mind me helping myself to whatever I wanted. I had had a
cousin whose mother had gone missing and my mother had adopted him into our family. After
that he slept with us every night. I recognized that I had been adopted by Marcelo and for
better or worse he was my family now.
He got dressed and took out a big box that he tied around his neck. I jumped up on the back
of the worn out chair we had fallen asleep in the night before and examined it. He bared his
teeth at me and I bared mine back. I had learned from the men who could remove their taupe
head tops that this was a sign of friendship and often sugar cubes or figs would follow.
What do you think? Hey, this is going to be how we don't end up on the street, I cocked my
head. I didn't understand a word he was saying. He cranked a handle on the side of the box
and it made a sound, it was singing a song.
You're going to help me out with this later on but for today it's just Marcelo, one day soon
though, it'll be Marcelo and Ferdinand or maybe Ferdinand and Marcelo! You'll outshine me
and the children will come to dance with you and give you coins.
He cranked the handle some more and danced around. I hooted in appreciation. My new
friend was a clever friend to have!
He left and went out and didn't return until dusk, but before he went out he left the water
running a little.
He came home that evening and I could tell that he was exhausted under his exterior of good
cheer. I had eaten the fruit out of the bowl and had opened the cupboards and looked around,
getting acquainted with my new environment. Marcelo looked around at the results of my
exploration and sighed. I could tell I had done something wrong and didn't want to displease
him. He bared his teeth at me, Getting to know the place, are you? If you do this every time I
leave you home I'll have to lock you in the bathroom. You won't like that as much, no sleeping
in the chair in the warm sun then.
I didn't understand but he put down the heavy box and started cleaning up the results of my
exploration.
After the house was back to how he had left it and I helped by eating the little flaked bits of
food that I had found in a box and spread around the floor a little. He sat in his chair and
patted his lap, Ferdinand, come sit with old Marcelo
He took out a little bottle of spray and a comb and started combing my fur out. He was
grooming me. I relaxed into the comforting if slightly altered ritual and was surprised when he
brought out a little yellow strip of leather and put it around my neck. He fastened it so it was
too small for me to get over my head and I struggled with it. He shook his head as I ran
around the room, turning somersaults and throwing a tantrum to get the strange thing off. He

turned the knob on the radio and ignored the scene I was causing. After awhile I crawled back
onto his lap.
The collar was only the first part of my training. The next day he came home and groomed me
after we ate together and put a red jacket on me. I sat quietly until he attached a chain to the
collar that was still around my neck and tried to walk me around the room. I threw a tantrum
all over again and then he went back to his chair and ignored me.
Several days later I was walking on the silver chain leash without fighting him and he
rewarded me with sugar cubes.
The morning came when instead of leaving and locking me in, he dressed me in my red coat
and put on my silver chain and invited me to jump on his organ box. I did has he asked and
he gave me a fig to munch on.
I hadn't been in the city since I had arrived in my cage and it was with great curiosity that I
watched what Marcelo went out all day to do. I sat on his shoulder or sometimes on his head
while he cranked his organ grinder and the children and the poor men and women came to
watch him dance and sing. He had a tin cup at his feet that the children would dart forward
and put bits of metal in the cup.
After awhile he took a break and set me on the ground and emptied his tin cup into the little
pouch he wore around his neck, You're a luck monkey, Ferdinand, this will buy us many figs.
He set me on the ground and I picked up the tin cup, one of the children came forward
cautiously and put a coin into the cup. I could tell from her smell that she was a little girl of
Marcelos species and bared my teeth in a smile.
Does your monkey have a name, mister? She asked
He's Ferdinand, He replied.
Doesn't he dance? I saw another monkey who danced.
Maybe he's been waiting for you to show him how to dance.
The little girl was wearing a skirt and she lifted it a little and skipped around, Like this,
Ferdinand, monkeys dance like this!
I heard my name and Marcelo urged me on. My silver leash let me dance in a little arc around
Marcelo The old organ grinder picked up his organ box and started to play a tune and the girl
danced with me. Soon I learned how to dance and then run around with the tin cup to the
delight of all who would fill the cup with the clink of coins.
It was sometime before I learned that not everyone was delighted with Marcelo and myself. A
man showed up and said things sternly to Marcelo The crowd quickly left and I ran behind
Marcelo with the treasured cups of coins in my hands. The man raised his voice and gave

Marcelo a piece of paper.

We went home early that day, Marcelo didn't sing and I sat on the fruit bowl and watched him
pace anxiously around the room.
Washington D.C. Was a hard place to be an organ grinder in 1932. They were being
expunged as beggars and the paper was a court order for Marcelo to stop begging on the
street corner. This was the beginning of our troubles.
While Marcelo cursed the officer who had given him the citation and tried to decide what to do
I only knew that something had gone wrong and my normally happy friend and only family
was in misery. I hugged him extra hard that night when we curled up under the blankets but I
felt him lying wide awake beside me in the moonlight.
I didn't understand commerce beyond coins equaled extra fruit and extra happy Marcelo I
didn't understand that America was just getting geared up into what would one day be known
as the great depression. Most of all, I didn't know how lean and mean things could get when
you've been called a bigger.
Marcelo had come from Italy and his family had made organs as well as playing them. He had
never been called a bigger in his life and that stung almost as much as the meaning behind
the letter. He would have to find another place to play his organ or he and I would be sleeping
under the moon in a country where only dust grew on the trees.