Month: November 2020

A Plate of Cookies

Nadira Spzirglas

This is ‘a moment of triumph’, part of a group of seven stories.

            Jake thrust his hands deeper into his pockets. It wasn’t yet winter, but the overcast sky threatened early snow. It had rained during the night, and shimmering puddles on the sidewalks reflected the gray world. Jake lifted a shoulder to rub his ear, keeping his hands curled in his pockets. He still had another block to go before he reached school. As he trudged along, the words of a sports commentator drifted faintly from a nearby restaurant.
‘After a rocky start, our team has gained the lead. Sometimes that moment of triumph only comes after the worst times.’
Jake smiled wryly as the commentary faded behind him. If only that were true! He figured he was due for some triumph any day now. The trouble wasn’t that he would have to stay after school to make up the cooking class he’d missed the previous evening for his sister’s birthday party. Nor was it that yesterday should have been his day to wash up, which meant that today he’d face piles of sticky dishes. It wasn’t even that his math teacher had an unfortunate habit of springing pop quizzes when Jake was least prepared. The real trouble. . .
            Jake froze. The real trouble was waiting for him at the street corner where he’d have to turn to get to school. He looked over his shoulder, hoping for a way out, but one of the boys straightened and pointed. There could be no escape this time. His stomach tightening, Jake started walking again, trying to look unconcerned. He didn’t know why Mason and his friends had chosen to pick on him, but nothing Jake did or didn’t do stopped their bullying.
“Heya, Jake the Loser!”
It wasn’t the most brilliant insult, but as good a start as any. Jake considered his strategies, deciding glumly that his best bet was to ignore the boys – although it would certainly be futile. He rounded the corner, uncomfortably aware of his proximity to the grinning bullies.
“Where ya goin’?” Mason asked, somehow making the question into a threat. Jake fixed his eyes on the school building and bit his lip. This wasn’t going to end well. One of the other two boys shoved him hard, and Jake went sprawling. At that moment, the bell rang, and the three boys ran off, jeering. Jake watched them go, both angry and relieved. It could have been worse, he knew. He glanced at his watch to see how late he was going to be and discovered that it was broken. It must have gotten cracked when he fell.

           Jake managed to avoid Mason until lunch, but when he reached the cafeteria, he spotted the three boys loitering by the entrance. Jake rapidly revised his plans and headed for the kitchens, wondering if he’d have time to do his cooking assignment as well as wash up. Then he saw the mountain of dishes waiting for him. Dismally, he tied on one of the big aprons and began to scrub. The class had made chocolate chip cookies, and several bowls were covered with hardened chocolate. Focused on the task, Jake started when a voice from behind him asked,
“Lot of work, huh?”
It was Mason and his friends. Jake tensed.
“Um. . . yeah.”
He didn’t know what Mason wanted, but obviously, ignoring him wouldn’t work.
“Yeah,” Mason repeated. “So, do you want help?” His voice was almost friendly. Was it possible that the months of bullying had come to an end at last? Jake cautiously allowed himself to hope.
“Sure,” he said gratefully. “That’d be great.”
Mason looked at his friends, and all three of them burst out laughing.
“I can’t believe you fell for that!” Mason wheezed. He put his face close to Jake’s and whispered,
“Nope!” The three boys walked out, snickering. Jake closed his eyes and sighed dispiritedly. The day was just getting worse. By the time Jake had finished washing all the dishes, his hands were wrinkled and sore. He glanced at his watch, surprised that it was still so early. Then, with an awful sinking feeling, he remembered that the watch was broken. Math class. Jake dashed out of the kitchen and tore desperately through the hallways, skidding to a stop in the doorway of his classroom. The teacher looked up, frowning.
“The pop quiz is almost over. Please take your seat immediately.”
Swallowing hard, Jake hurriedly sat down and searched for a pencil. As he struggled to control his breathing, whispers grew around him.
“Look at Jake!”
“Why’s he wearing an apron?”
Glancing down, Jake realized that he had forgotten to take off the big apron. The three bullies smirked and pointed, and several students turned to look at him. Jake felt his face go bright red, and he hastily pulled off the apron and balled it up under his desk.
“Five minutes remaining,” the teacher announced, and the class fell silent. Jake shuffled through the test, his heart sinking. There was no way he’d finish it in time. Trepidly, he hunted for quick or easy problems, but he was too flustered to solve more than two. As the last few seconds ticked away, Jake despaired of ever being finished with this horrible day.

            When his classes were over, Jake headed back to the kitchens, flipping despondently through the extra math homework he’d been given.
“Want some company?” The sneer brought Jake up short. He’d walked straight into the middle of the three boys, who had been lounging in the hallway outside the kitchens, waiting for him.
“What do you want?” Jake asked, keeping his voice as level as he could. “I don’t have anything.”
Mason grinned leisurely.
“Let’s start with that watch.”
Jake blinked slowly and pulled the watch off. Suddenly, he tossed it to Mason and dove for the kitchens. He wedged the doors with a table and stood panting, closing his ears to the threats they yelled at him. If he could stay there long enough, they might leave. He made the cookie dough, mixed in the chocolate chips, and slid a tray into the oven, keeping a careful eye on the baking cookies. The banging and shouting had stopped by the time they were ready. He transferred the cookies to a plate, dreading the moment when he’d have to face the bullies. When he had moved away the table, he hesitated for a long moment before gathering up the courage to crack open the doors. Mason and his friends were gone. Slumping with relief, Jake grabbed the plate of cookies and hurried out of the school. Outside, it was dark, with a watery scent to the sharp night air. The varied buildings loomed silently, flickering with shadows thrown by glowing lampposts. All at once, Jake was exhausted. He could barely convince his feet to move as he plodded miserably home. The bullying was getting worse; he’d never felt this low before.
Then, from a house with light beaming from a single window, he heard music – wonderful music. It had rhythms tumbling over one another, laughing joyously, separate but melded. Gradually, Jake realized that he was walking in time with the music, his feet light. A smile spread across his face, and he began to walk with more spring in his step, then to almost dance down the street, shedding his fear and exhaustion like soggy boots. He was happy for the first time that day, and he ran crazily down the street, the music still alive in his head. Ahead, skulking under a lamppost, he saw the three bullies, but he bounded up to them without a pause and wordlessly offered them the cookies. Pushing away the plate, the three boys looked at him menacingly.
“Aren’t ya scared to be out here. . . all alone?” Mason asked, nudging one of his friends.
“Yeah. Aren’t ya worried something might happen to you?” the friend added meaningly. At any other time, Jake would have been on the verge of flight, but even Mason couldn’t bother him now. He didn’t bother to respond, but began to laugh, and kept laughing while the three boys looked at each other nervously, their bravado changing to uneasiness, and finally scurried off into the night. Still laughing, Jake walked home in the cool night, the wonderful music playing in his head and a plate of cookies in his hand.

The Useless Friend

Nadira Spzirglas

Every hero has one, and they’re almost exactly what they sound like. They basically exist to make the hero look better, be his confidant, push him (usually by getting into scrapes that the hero has to get them out of), and do odd jobs for the hero. The useless friend is also one of the hero’s weakest points. In contrast with his relationship with the love interest, the hero absolutely cannot do without his useless friend. You can bet your master plan that the hero will drop anything and everything to rescue his friend, which can be exceedingly useful at times. The wide scope of possibilities allows villains to select their preferred use . . . or two. Bait, of course, is an obvious choice, with negotiations a close second. Don’t overlook the useless friend’s own capabilities, though. He usually has something, however small, that makes him helpful, and since the hero often discusses his plans with him, the friend may yield some useful information. Now, here is the most important part of this tip: kill him. No matter what you want to use the useless friend for, make sure you leave yourself time and space to kill him. You won’t need to take the same precautions you’d have for the hero, but make it short and sweet. (Don’t worry, fun is acceptable.) It isn’t particularly important if there’s not much left of him once the job is done, but do make sure that you have a token that the hero will recognize. Present this to the hero any way you like – as a warning, with an apology, sneering cheerfully – and sit back to watch. Unlike with the love interest, where the death flings the hero into a powerful rage, the useless friend’s death will throw him into a stupor. He will blame himself, and he and his army will be incapacitated indefinitely. (Note: it may be difficult to convince the hero that his friend is actually dead. A risky option is to claim the useless one’s death while keeping him for bargaining, etc.) We leave it up to you to finish the hero once and for all. Enjoy!

Return of the Thief – Megan Whalen Turner

Nadira Spzirglas

Megan Whalen Turner’s first book, The Thief, was brilliant, and the rest of her series, while somewhat different, was equally tantalizing. The character development and plot twists were humorous and awe-inspiring, and the sense of anticipation rose steadily as we awaited her final book, Return of the Thief.
We expected a lot.
We didn’t get it.

The plot has always been Turner’s strong point, but it seems she was a little out of her depth for the necessarily most plot-based book in the series. The plot twists she is so well known for were in this case not as big as we would have liked and sometimes difficult to follow. The climaxes were awkwardly spaced, with several random ones thrown in too close to major climaxes and not supporting them. We award a half star.
The characters, another area of expertise for Turner, were disappointing. Although Turner had previously suggested that her final book would be from Gen’s perspective, this was not the case, and the introduction of Pheris, the new main character, was in our opinion a mistake, although he was believable. There was little or no development of the other main characters, with the exception of Gen, who seemed to have abruptly changed not only his goals but his empathetic and compassionate nature, apparently partially becoming the god Eugenides, with much of the power and none of the mercy. He came close to losing the endearing faults we love, and his lust for revenge was distressing. We award a half star.
The worldbuilding was consistent with Turner’s usual Greek-based style, with no contradictions, but it was confusing in that many places were added without warning in unnecessary scenes dealing with strategy. We award a full star.
The pace was good, with a tasteful balance of dialogue, description, and action, reminding us of Turner’s first book. We award a full star.
The dialogue was nearly as good as usual, but had less importance than in other books, and was not so witty as we might like. We award a full star.
The beginning was disappointing, without mention of old characters or even scenes in which we could begin to care about the new character. It was not immediately obvious that the book began somewhat before the ending of the previous novel, Thick as Thieves. The ending did not grant us hope or relief, instead leaving us wondering at the main characters’ cheerfulness after the deaths of so many of their friends and relatives (their reason for joy seemed contrived as well). Refusing us the satisfying gleefulness we’d come to expect, the book finished in a flourish of sentimental wordiness. There was also a large time skip, obviously necessary, but unwieldy in the final chapters. We award no star.
We were afforded a few moments of interest and pleasure, due to Turner’s inherent skill, but we would not read the book again. Turner’s usual editing was not apparent, and the overall bad writing frankly appalled us. Old problems that had been satisfyingly (and lightly, and interestingly) resolved were dredged up and examined again, now stale and rotting. We award no star.
One of the worst parts of the book was some quite obvious immorality, largely shown in one scene, that was not-so-subtly condoned in several randomly inserted sentences that neither furthered the plot nor came to fruition. There were also several mild insinuations. However, there was comparatively little vulgar humor and bad language. We award a half star.
While this book was memorable in parts, it was not at all consistent with the rest of the series, truth did not play a part in it, and the depth was, ironically, superficial. Additionally, the tone of the book was dark and depressing. We award no star.
There was no mention of spiders in the book. (Admittedly, this is not of the highest importance when judging good writing, but. . . we are spiders, after all.) We award no star.
There were some interesting moments of tension, especially where a major character gave an aside in a breathless pause, and the elephants were enjoyable, but the book was mostly dark, and the comic relief forced. We award a half star.

In conclusion, Megan Whalen Turner’s Return of the Thief earned 4½ + ½ stars, putting it in the ‘Terrific’ category.
-𝒜𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑒𝒶