text:
Book by: Ivy1973
Status: Finished
Genre: Mystery and Crime
Chapter1 (v.1) - Turn_Back_Time
"So," He said with a small smile. "Why history?"
I put down my wineglass and thought about it for a moment. "I don't know, really," I mused, choosing my words carefully. His smile was distracting. "History always fascinated me, I guess. I loved learning about what we come from, how people used to live. It puts things in perspective, you know? Makes everything happening now seem so miniscule and unimportant. History's so vast. I love that."
"Completely understood," He grinned, leaning back in his seat. He was wearing a pale blue button-down shirt with the first button undone. Usually I would want to fix it, but for some reason, it was fine on him. He opened his mouth to speak again. "I always thought people back then were so much cooler than now."
I laughed a little at his easy tone and simple choice of words. His eyes sparkled in the dim light of the restaurant we were in. "I always liked the Romans," I continued, meeting his eyes. "Everything about them. It captivates me. Their whole society, how it worked and everything."
His eyes lit up even more. "Me too!" He exclaimed. "Hey, what do you think was more severe: the collapse of the Western Roman Empire or the collapse of Han China?"
"Definitely the Western Roman Empire," I said assuredly. "The Roman Empire had been around for so much longer. Latin disintegrated along with all the centuries of Roman culture. The empire was overrun with and eaten up by barbarians. It was completely divided and—"
"But what about general Dong Zhou in Han China and the millions of eunuchs and innocent civilians he slaughtered? He and his Xiongnu troops raped and pillaged nearly every town they came across…and Xian, the boy emperor—"
"Twenty-five out of twenty-six Western Roman emperors were killed in a fifty year period," I interjected. "The Roman Empire had so much more influence and control at that point than the Han because they'd been around longer. The empire touched every corner of Europe and all the way into Africa and the Middle East. Their presence had been established for so much longer and over so much more land than Han China. When the Western Roman Empire fell, all the civilizations that'd relied on them declined. It wasn't just the fall of the Western Roman Empire, it was the fall of all those states. Europe went right into the Dark Ages and then the Middle Ages and didn't come out for centuries after that."
He grinned, his eyes twinkling again. My heart flew up into my throat. "Alright, Katie," He surrendered, studying me with that funny grin on his face. "That's a pretty damn good argument. I'll give you that one. Now tell me what you know about the Islamic World. Do you think their entry into Africa was beneficial?"
The Islamic World wasn't my forte, but I went on talking, spewing out anything and everything I knew. Random facts popped up as I spoke and I let them roll off my tongue. Before I knew it, it was a little after ten-thirty and the waiter was hinting at us to leave. I reached for the bill at the same time he did. He grinned mischievously. "Let me pay," He said. "Seriously, I've got this."
"No," I argued lightly. "Don't be that guy. Let me do it. Here, I've got my credit card right here—"
He snatched the bill slyly as I was looking through my purse. "Ha!" He said, victorious. I couldn't keep from smiling. I faked frustration and sat back in my seat. "You win this time," I said.
"I know," He grinned. "We'll have to do it again. Then you can pay, I promise."
My mind spun with the idea of 'again'. The corners of my lips twitched up, and I felt blush creeping up to my cheeks. "Thank you," I said softly. "I had a great time."
"No problem," He replied distractedly, signing the bill sloppily. He put it back down on the table with his credit card sticking out and smiled up at me. I straightened the card, and he laughed. "You're one of those girls," He chuckled. "You're really organized."
I looked down at my lap. "One of those girls," I repeated. "I've been grouped now?"
"No," He sighed, looking at me. "I was just saying. I'm really messy. You should see my apartment, it's crazy. I call it an obstacle course designed to keep me in shape, but my mom has a fit every time she visits."
"I'm a little quirky, I guess," I admitted. "But nothing too bad. I just wanted to straighten the card, that's all."
"Okay, Katie," He smiled. I smiled back, looking down in my lap again. The waiter came over and took the bill, and we talked a little while waiting for the credit card to come back. When the waiter returned with it, he slipped it into his wallet and put the wallet in his back pocket, standing up. I followed suit, tucking my purse over my shoulder and pushing in my chair. We walked out of the small restaurant and into the chilly night air. I pulled my coat tighter around me. He wasn't wearing a jacket at all. He didn't even seem to notice the cold.
We strolled slowly down the sidewalk. Cars whizzed past, the headlights brightening up the darkness. His voice was quiet and calming. We reached his car and he opened the door for me before slipping into the driver's seat. It was a Lexus, sleek, with leather seats and that new car smell. "Nice car," I commented.
He seemed proud, turning the key to the ignition. "Yeah," He sighed. "All mine."
We drove off. The radio was playing softly. It was classical music. I recognized it as Benjamin Britten's Simple Symphony. I smiled. "I know this," I said. "My mom used to hum it around the house. I used to be able to play the violin part."
He nodded. "Benjamin Britten was a cool guy," He said. "Have you heard his version of Mozart's 40th symphony?"
"Yes," I confirmed. "My mom hummed that, too. She was always humming classical music."
"Do you see her often? Since you moved here or anything?"
I swallowed. "No," I said quietly. "She's dead."
He was silent. That was always the reaction, I was used to it. I looked out the window, no longer caught up in the moment. Whenever I got close to getting past her death, something brought me crashing back to reality. Ever since I was seventeen. After two minutes, he cleared his throat. "When?" He asked.
That surprised me. It was always, "Oh, I'm so, so sorry" or "I'm sure it's been so hard for you". I hated that. They weren't sorry. They had absolutely no idea. But he asked when. I looked up, swallowing hard. "Five years ago," I whispered. "I was seventeen."
He didn't speak again for a while. But then, I felt myself suddenly in desperate need to tell him. "It was a skiing accident," I said slowly, quietly. "My mom was such a good skier. She grew up in Sweden and had been skiing since she could walk. She skied in the Junior Olympics and won the whole thing. She used to take me and my three brothers to Sweden every winter to ski. My dad couldn't ski for his life. He was always away anyways. He's in the Navy. One time, when I was seventeen, my brothers came home from college and we went to Sweden. We hadn't done it the year before because my grandmother had died. Me and my brother Tucker, who's two years older, went up on the lift with her. Charlie and Noah were in the lodge. Charlie's this big CEO guy, and he was always on some stupid conference call. I hated him for it sometimes. He's my oldest brother, and we used to be really close, but he got all caught up in his stupid job and never had time for us anymore. Anyway, my mom wanted to do this double black that they'd used for the World Cup a few years back. I was with Tucker and we were too tired. It was the last run of the day. So we skied down a trail that would come out at the same spot as the double diamond. When we made it to the bottom, we took off our skis and went into the lodge with Charlie and Noah to wait. And we waited, for about ten minutes. I wasn't worried that she wasn't back. It crossed my mind as a bit unusual because my mom was such a fantastic skier, she didn't usually take that long. But then it was twenty minutes and I really started to wonder. I mentioned something to Tucker and he waved it away. Five more minutes. Ten. I voiced my concern again. After half an hour the lifts were closed and people were clearing out of the lodge. Noah went out to see if Mom had gotten lost trying to find the lodge. He came back ten minutes later with nothing. We all got up and reported it to the mountain and they sent up those guys in the snowmobiles to look for her. It all happened really fast after that. They found her body at the edge of a cliff. She'd fallen two hundred feet off the side of the mountain. They tried to revive her. They brought her to the hospital and everything. Then they came out and told us there was nothing we could've done. She'd been gone when they found her. That was it. She was dead."
He didn't say anything after that. He drove ten more minutes in silence. I was shocked when he pulled up to my apartment building. He'd picked me up, but I didn't think he'd be able to find his way back. By then I didn't even bother asking how he'd known because I knew if I opened my mouth to speak, I'd break down. He stopped the car and sat sitting face-forward for a minute. I didn't move to get out of the car. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke. "I lost my brother when I was eighteen," He said evenly. "He was nineteen."
My stomach swooped. "I'm sorry," I choked out. The second I said it, I wanted to take it back. "No," He waved his hand. "Don't be sorry. I'm fine." He wiped his hand over his mouth, through his hair. I looked down at my hands. "Do you want to tell me about it?" I asked.
"No," He said simply. "I don't."
"Yeah," I replied. "It's alright. I get it."
He looked at me. Thank you, his eyes said. I nodded. After a moment, I sucked in a breath and reached for the door handle. "I should go," I said softly. "It's late. But I really did have a great time tonight. Thank you so much."
"I did, too," He sighed. "Yeah, thanks. We'll have to do it again so you can pay, remember?"
I smiled. "Yes. I'd like that."
"Great." I opened the door and slid out of the seat. "Goodnight, Katie," He said, leaning down to see me. I caught his eye once as I closed the door to his car.
"Goodnight, Lionel."
When I got back into my apartment that night, I didn't really know what I was feeling.
I'd been on plenty of dates. My friends always tried to set me up, and I did pretty well for myself on my own anyways. The last steady girlfriend I'd had was a couple months back. It wasn't going to work out, I realized. We'd been together for eight months when I broke up with her. For some reason, breaking up with her wasn't even a big deal. I've got issues with emotions, I always have. I'm always on my toes, and I hate letting my guard down. I don't like to let people into my life.
But Katie was different than anyone I'd ever met in all my twenty-four years. She was beautiful, for one thing. She had this thick, shiny ink black hair down past her shoulders, twisted up into some intricate knot at the nape of her neck. She had creamy skin and red lips and these crazy ice blue eyes that pierced right through my own. Those eyes were strange. They were something.
And she was smart, too. She loved history almost as much as me, maybe even as much. We shared all sorts of opinions, and she had her own that really interested me. We didn't once run out of things to talk about. When she told me about her mother, all I wanted was to hold her close. I never want that. I don't like hugs. I keep my distance from people. But seeing her like that, all distant and wounded, I was a second away from pulling her into my chest and rubbing her hair and telling her it was okay, I understood it.
She made me think about my brother, Calum. Ever since Calum died, I pushed away all thoughts and memories of him. Thinking about it hurt, so I didn't let myself. I kept it all out. It's worked for all these years, but last night, listening to her talk, I let myself feel.
Calum was a year older than me, almost exactly. I was born on the 28th of December, his birthday was the 21st. We'd been inseparable since we were one and two. There isn't a moment in my life or a memory I have that doesn't involve Calum.
As I lay on my queen-size mattress in the middle of my bedroom, I felt so conflicted my brain hurt. Everything had always been easy for me. School was a breeze. I didn't ever have to try. Sports came easily; I was the star of the hockey and lacrosse team. Everything to me had a logical answer. Feelings were insignificant and distracting, only an obstacle. I closed my eyes and ran a hand through my dirty-blondish-brown hair, blowing all the air out of my lungs. Suddenly it wasn't so easy, and I couldn't tell if I liked it or hated it.
Eventually I got up, took a shower, brushed my teeth, and crawled beneath my sheets. I couldn't get Katie and Calum out of my head. By the time I fell asleep I was remembering details of my childhood I couldn't believe I still had, and I kept hearing "Goodnight, Lionel" over and over again.
In the morning, my alarm sounded at 9:00 and I rolled out of bed, groaning. I took my time eating before throwing on a nice shirt and slacks and brushing my hair and teeth. My mind was still spinning, but things were a little more normal up in there. I grabbed my briefcase and finished tying my tie as I headed out the door at 9:30.
I made it to the museum at 9:38 and the guards nodded their morning greetings to me. "Hey Bob, Tommy," I greeted them with a smile.
Mornings at the museum were always my favorite. No one was there yet when I arrived. The place was so massive and full of history, I sometimes felt I could hear it humming. I loved walking down the wide hallways and looking at all the artifacts I'd memorized over the two years I'd worked here. It felt like another home.
I slipped into my little office space and put down my briefcase. The desk was a mess, but everything else was pretty sparse. My favorite part was my big diagram of the inside of King Tut's pyramid hanging on the right wall.
At that point, I had about ten minutes to wander around before the day started. I had two tours on my schedule, one before lunch and one afterwards. I loved doing tours. Seeing children's eyes light up at all the history was exactly what I loved about the job. I wanted them to have a positive experience with it; I wanted to show them how fascinating human history is and that history class should never be a bore. That's what I tried to instill in them with each tour. Perhaps I was completely unsuccessful, who knows. All I knew is that I tried.
I left my office and made my way through the Vietnam exhibit and into the fossil area, which was arguably my favorite. As I rounded a glass case with animal teeth in it, I caught sight of Katie. I smiled automatically, my hands shoved deep in the pockets of my tan slacks. She was standing in front of the television that played a short documentary about the history of dinosaurs on repeat, low volume. She wore black slacks and a white sweater with bracelets hanging from her thin wrist. She was standing, deep in thought, hands held in front of her. I approached quietly, wanting to surprise her. I reached out and grabbed her shoulders. She let out a muffled shriek and whipped around. I cracked up. She saw me and looked relieved, her eyes wild. "Oh my God," She gushed. "Lionel, you scared me!"
I chuckled, not able to stop grinning. "I had to," I said. "You were so quiet and focused."
She rolled her eyes, and I came to stand beside her. We watched a minute or so of the movie. Then I looked at her for a second. "Katie," I said.
She looked up. "Yeah?"
What I really wanted to say is that she looked beautiful, but I inwardly scratched that. "We've got a kindergarten tour coming in when the doors open," I told her. "You're helping me out, right?"
She nodded. "What time is it?"
I looked at my watch. "9:52," I replied.
"We've got time," She said. "Just another minute or so. Then we can head to the front."
So I stood with her and we watched the film until I nudged her at 9:56. I had a sudden urge to grab her hand, but that was crazy even in my mind. So we walked side-by-side in warm silence, bumping sides as we headed to the front of the museum.
The kindergarten class Lionel and I were touring came in about ten minutes after ten, all wearing matching red t-shirts with their school's name on it, as usual. They were all adorable. They had a young teacher with them who introduced herself as Meredith Kelly.
We brought them to the back of the lobby, where we always started our tours. "Alright, everyone!" Lionel called out, standing in front of the wide-eyed group of four and five year olds. Their teacher helped us quiet them. When the voices were hushed, Lionel continued. "Great. Thank you guys. My name is Lionel Flynn, and you can call me Superman. Nah, I'm just kidding. Call me Lionel." The kids thought that was hilarious. Lionel paused to let them laugh before continuing. "So, I'm Superman, and this is my assistant, Superwoman. No, alright, I'll stop joking. Would you like to introduce yourself, Superwoman?"
I smiled at him. "Hello, everyone, I'm Katie Hamilton." I waved a little and then stepped back, letting Lionel take the lead again. "Okay!" He said in his commanding voice. "Katie and I are here to show you guys how awesome science and history really are. I'm sure your teacher is awesome, but we're going to show you guys some really cool stuff today. Is everyone ready?"
The kids cheered, grinning. A girl in the front row was missing a tooth. Their adorableness was overpowering. "Great! I like that attitude!" Lionel said. "So, let's go! We're going to start where it all began—the dinosaurs."
Lionel and I showed the kids back to the exhibit we'd been standing in not twenty minutes before. We talked them through a bunch of things before letting them explore and look into all the glass cases for themselves. They each had a partner, which was the cutest thing. Most of them held hands as they walked around. Lionel and I stood side-by-side again, keeping our eyes on them. "They're so adorable," I gushed quietly.
He grinned, looking at me out of the corner of his eyes. "They're cute until they spit food in your hands or cry every night before bed," He said.
I rolled my eyes at him. "Stop it," I laughed. In reality, I was buzzing just from his presence. "How can you say they're not cute? Look at them. See those two over there? They're holding hands…that's just about the sweetest thing I've ever seen!"
"I didn't say it's not cute," He mused. "I just meant they have their moments."
I sighed. "Yeah," I said. "I know."
"You want kids?" He asked randomly.
"Definitely," I replied, surprised at how quickly it rolled off my tongue. I never told people things like that. I immediately wanted to swallow the word back up. He chuckled. "What?" I asked, embarrassed.
"Nothing, nothing!" He said, putting his hands up. "It's completely understandable!"
I frowned. "Do you not want kids?" I asked.
"Nah, I do," He shook his head, grinning. "I'm just teasing you." Then, he called the kids all back. "Alright, guys! Come on, we're going to head into a new exhibit now. Everyone follow Katie!"
We took them into the Human Origins exhibit and then on to the African Peoples exhibit. We made our way through science exhibits and animal exhibits until we came to the top floor. Since it was still early, slightly less people had made their way all the way up yet. But from the looks of it, it was going to be a busy day.
Lionel was keeping the kids totally enthralled. They were laughing hysterically and asking all sorts of questions. I couldn't stop smiling as I watched him. He was so good with the kids, and you could hear his passion for history in the way he spoke. Plus, he looked pretty good in the lavender button-down he had on…
Next we made it to the back of the fourth floor where they had a new French Revolution exhibit that I hadn't yet gotten a good look at. There were still things that were being brought out and moved around. "Alright, guys. They're got a new exhibit over here." Lionel told the kids as we walked through the arch into the area dedicated to the French Revolution. "It's still a bit under construction, but we can give you a good look around. Does anyone know what a revolution is?"
"It's like a war!" A little Africa-American boy called out. "That's almost right," Lionel said, giving the kid a high-five. "Often there is a lot of fighting involved with a revolution. A revolution happens when people are really angry at how the world around them works and they want it to change. So they all band together to try and take down what they don't like and fix it. That's what the French Revolution was. The King of France, Louis XVI, wasn't a very good king at all. He didn't really care about being king, only about the power and the wealth. People didn't like him, so they overthrew him. That's when it all started."
He walked the kids all over the exhibit, explaining as he went. I said a few things, but I mostly hung back with their teacher, Meredith, talking quietly. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something. I turned. "Lionel!" I called out. "Look what I found!"
He stopped midsentence and followed my gaze to the museum's only full-scale replica of the infamous and renowned Guillotine killing machine. Lionel's eyes sparkled. "Whoa!" He grinned. "Alright, guys, come take a look at this! Everyone sit down in front of Katie. I want to show you this."
The kids ran over and sat "criss-cross-apple-sauce" in front of me, looking up happily. I smiled at them, crossing my arms over my chest. Lionel caught my eye, and I blushed, looking down and getting those stupid butterflies. He grinned and joined me on the other side of the Guillotine replica. "Wow, this is awesome," He said. "Does anyone know what this is?"
They all shook their heads. "Well, perfect, it's time to learn. This machine is called the Guillotine, or la guillotine in French. In the French Revolution, it was a killing machine. It was their way of killing criminals and often kings or officials they didn't like. This one right here isn't a real one. There aren't any of those left. It's an exact replica just like one, though, which is pretty cool. Don't worry, it's safe. It worked like this."
He showed them the blade and mimed how the executioner would cut the ropes, letting the blade down on the victim's neck. Somehow he managed to make it less dark that it actually was, and the kids didn't seem completely disturbed; at the same time, that could've been because they didn't really understand. "Here," Lionel said, walking past me and to the back of the guillotine. He brushed my hand, and it sent tingles up my arm. We shared a secret smile. "Everyone, watch me. I'll show you what it was like."
He kneeled down and indicated to me. I creased my eyebrows together, wondering if it was such a good idea, but I lifted the wooden piece for him that allowed him to place his neck in the hole. I closed it over him, and the kids cracked up, pointing and laughing, having a great time. I smiled as Lionel made funny faces and then pretended to be dead. "So, the prisoner would put his head in here, and the executioner would come and cut or release the rope. The blade that you see up there—don't worry, it's completely safe—would come flying down and cut off the head really fast so the victim didn't feel anything…supposedly."
The kids laughed harder. "You look funny!" One little girl giggled, pointing to Lionel. He grinned, and I couldn't suppress my own smile. "What, you like this?" He asked, wiggling around. The thing rattled. "Yeah!" The kids exclaimed. Lionel chuckled, and our gazes crossed again. I smiled, shaking my head, and he grinned up at me in a way that made my stomach shoot up into my throat. He broke the gaze, turning back to the kids. "So, the guillotine was used on—"
Just then, a boy of about ten years old ran headfirst into me. I didn't have time to react. He'd been looking over his shoulder and collided forcefully with me. I stumbled backwards and slammed into the side of the guillotine, losing my balance. A shooting pain exploded when my head made contact with the replica. And that's when the unspeakable happened.
My vision went blurry, but all of a sudden there was a furious whoosh and a screech and then a sound like nothing I've ever heard in my life. It was a sort of sucking sound, a squish, accompanied by a sharp chopping noise. As I struggled to regain my balance and get the stars out of my eyes, I felt something warm trickling down into my shoes. And then I heard the screams.
They erupted in my ears, making my blood run cold. I looked down, still a little dazed, and saw thick liquid so dark red it was nearly black splattered all over my white sweater, black slacks, and shoes. It spilled onto the carpet and into my shoes, warm and wet. Blood.
I didn't have time to think. The cries and screams escalated until it was white noise. My head spun. An unbelievable stench filled my nostrils, clouding my brain. People collided with me, running, screaming. I still couldn't make my mind work properly, and my head was pounding from the collision with the guillotine. A thought crossed my mind: why hadn't that boy apologized? I'd probably have to get checked for a concussion now.
The things going on around me didn't really register in my mind. I remember that the warmth of the red liquid splattered all over me was ticking me off, but I couldn't really place what it meant. People ran frantically away, their eyes wide with terror. The kindergarteners sobbed and screamed, spattered with blood as their teacher herded them out of the room as if she'd just seen a murder. I wondered where everyone was going in the middle of our tour. And that's when I saw it.
The head.
It rolled around on the floor in a funny circular motion. I couldn't see anything but the blood, dark as night. It was everywhere. Only the shape revealed that it was a head. No features could be seen through the curtain of red-black.
My vision went red, and I fell to my knees. More blood soaked into my knees where they hit the ground. It was spreading, creating a pool around the head and the guillotine and me. My eyes darted frantically about. I saw the blood-and-gore-covered blade hanging eerily, the people running, the headless body trapped in the neck hole, and the head lolling on the floor. But I couldn't piece it together.
I crawled forward on hands and knees. The head had stopped rolling. My hands, covered in blood, shook uncontrollably. I didn't even realize tears were rolling down my cheeks until I tasted them in my mouth, bitter and salty. I raised three fingers to my nose and sniffed the liquid all over them. It was most definitely blood. I got it on my face because my fingers were shaking so badly.
I looked back at the headless body hanging there lifelessly behind me, only kept in position by the neck brace. I could see the cut arteries, veins, brain stem and beginning of the spine, and the muscle. And I promptly threw up.
When I wiped my mouth and turned back to the head, the room was deserted and I was drenched in blood. It was only a trickle now. I could hear it dripping to the floor behind me, and I could see the drops fall from the head. My tears fell and mixed with it, creating a horrid, putrid mixture. My vision was all blood red, and my head felt as if it would explode.
With shaking hands, I reached out and turned the head towards me without thinking to see the features. What I saw horrified me. Before my eyes was Lionel Flynn's head, eyes open wide, mouth open just a little, as if he was just taking a breath.
I don't remember anything after that. I think I remember screaming and hearing it echo off the vaulting ceilings of the museum and feeling so incredibly empty that I felt as if I was the one who had no blood left in my body, not Lionel. My brain still wouldn't let me think. After an indistinguishable amount of time, three men came to drag me away kicking and screaming. My fists and stiletto-clad feet made contact with their faces, arms, chests, stomachs, and legs, and I lost my voice screaming. Eventually I gave up and went silent. I let them take me away.
The next thing I knew, I standing beneath my shower at home, wearing my bra and underwear. Two strange men stood in the bathroom with me. One was holding open the door of the shower and helping me, talking in a soothing tone. I saw him and the other and screamed, pushing one back and running from the shower when I saw the red liquid swirling off my body and down the drain. All I could see was rivers and oceans of blood.
After that I remember waking up in my bed, sweating and breathing hard. My brother Tucker, a woman, and a graying man all sat around me. Tucker stroked my hair. He was the first person I saw when I opened my eyes. "She's awake," He said quietly. Then, to me, "Hey there, Kit Kat. How're you doing?"
My eyes searched around frantically. "Hot," I croaked. "Water."
"Oh," Tucker said. "Hey, could one of you get her some water? She's asking for it."
The woman, who was wearing an ugly brown suit, stood up and left the room. She returned a second or two later carrying a mug. She handed it to Tucker, who held it out to me. I took it with two shaking hands. "Got it?" He asked.
I nodded and brought the cup to my lips. But the second I saw the water, I screamed and dropped the mug, scrambling out from under the sheets. It was blood red.
I didn't make it far. The three people were on me immediately, and I curled up in the corner, hugging my knees to my chest and rocking back and forth, tears streaming down my cheeks. I wore only one of Tucker's old long-sleeve shirts over my underwear. "Blood," I whispered over and over. "There's blood in the cup. Blood. Blood everywhere."
Tucker grabbed me and I screamed again, pushing him away. "No!" I screeched, shaking my head violently and waving my arms. They watched me in horror. I was scaring myself. "There was blood in the cup! She gave me blood, I promise!"
"Catherine, that wasn't blood," Tucker said, touching his lip tenderly where I'd socked him. "That was water. See?"
Slowly I lifted my head, pushing the hair away that was stuck to my face. I wiped at the tears and kneeled up to see onto the bed where I'd dropped the cup. There was a damp spot. No blood.
"It was blood," I breathed. "She gave me blood in the cup…"
Tucker held my shoulders and this time I let him. "Shh, Katie, shh. It's alright. There's no blood. You're going to be okay."
Expect the unexpected.
That's what my dad told me when I was four years old. It's probably the first memory I have in my whole life. It was the evening before he went away again, off to some foreign country to save the world, in my eyes. He never said where he went.
We were on the lawn of our big house in Winthrop, New York near Brasher Falls. My mom and my brother were inside, and my dad and I were throwing a baseball around. I couldn't throw with any accuracy or power: I was four. But I was learning. My dad threw the ball to me and I wasn't ready. It caught me right in the eye, directly on my eyebrow. I hit the ground crying. "Dada," I whined. "You hit me."
He dropped his mitt on the ground and jogged over. I reached up for him, but he didn't pick me up. Instead, he stood over me, looking down disapprovingly. "Don't cry," He said flatly. "Crying is for girls. Expect the unexpected."
With that, he walked away. I sniffled, wiping my tears. "Dad," I moaned. I felt something trickling down my cheek. I touched it and it was red. The tears spilled over, but I immediately blinked them back, rubbing my eyes so that the tears and the red stuff mixed together. I swallowed back my sobs. "It's okay, son," He said. "You're different. You've got to be strong. You'll learn later. For now, no crying, okay?"
I nodded and picked up the baseball. "More?" I asked.
"No," He said. "It's time to go in. Let's go wash your face."
I nodded and followed him inside. When my mother heard us, she came in and gasped. "Oh, baby!" She exclaimed, rushing to me. "What happened?"
"I got him in the brow," My dad said. "He's fine."
She fretted over me and gave me a hot bath. By the time I was lying in bed, I'd forgotten the accident. I had a Spiderman Band-Aid on my forehead and I'd been given an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert. But my dad's words lingered. "Expect the unexpected." "You're different."
My parents came in to say goodnight to me a few minutes later. Dad patted my shoulder and tucked up the blankets like usual. My mom kissed my Band-Aid. "Goodnight," She said, and I kissed her cheek. She left the room with a little wave and a promise to see me in the morning. I looked up at my dad. He was my hero, even though he was away all the time. "Goodnight," I whispered, reaching out for him. He backed away out the door and leaned in. "Goodnight, Jameson," He said.
"In more recent news, the story of a young man involved in a terrible accident at the Museum of Natural History in New York City has spread like wildfire over the country. Around midday yesterday, Sunday, Lionel Flynn, a museum worker, was giving a tour to a kindergarten class with his assistant, whose name has yet to be released. In the recently opened French Revolution exhibit, there was an old model of a guillotine that had been brought out. The accident occurred when Flynn, only wishing to demonstrate for the kids, had his head in the locks of the thought-to-be-harmless guillotine model. According to witnesses at the scene, a child ran into Flynn's assistant and she fell against the model, causing the blade to come crashing down. The museum's president, Mr. Ronald Orswell, has spoken out on the tragedy: 'It was all an accident,' He says. 'We very recently hired a new maintenance staff. Somewhere along the lines, tasks were ignored, such as the dulling of the blade. After examination, it appears as if mice chewed through the ropes that kept the model rigid. The staff has been fired in its entirety and we are looking to hire a new, more capable crew who will look after our museum and keep it safe. This accident was completely unexpected and tragic. Our hearts go out to family and friends of Lionel Flynn, and we are willing to do anything and everything to get past this accident. The exhibit has been closed in the meantime, but the museum continues running as usual.'"
I choked on my own exhalation and fell back against the pillow. The news anchor's voice droned on, pounding in my ears.
Then, I heard the door slam, and I jumped, my skin crawling. I scrambled up in bed, my eyes wide. The noise set off a chain of alarms in my body, and it was all I could do not to scream as my vision once again went red. "Don't worry, Kate, it's me, Tucker," My brother's voice rang out, and I let out all the air in my lungs, my muscles relaxing. I heard him put down bags on the counter and rifle through them. A minute later, he entered the room, looking exhausted. He came and sat beside me, watching me tiredly. "Here," He sighed, pulling something out of a bag. "I bought you those cookies you really like. The ones Mom used to buy."
I stared blankly at the package. "I'm not hungry," I told him. He blew out air so that it made his bangs fly up. I looked down at my hands. "Come on, Kit Kat, you've got to get out of bed and eat something. I'll make you Mac and Cheese. You love that."
"I said I'm not hungry."
"Fine." He stood up, looking around. He noticed the television and groaned, switching it off. "Katie, you've gotta stop watching this stuff," He told me. He was on the verge of yelling, I could tell. "It's not doing you any good. It's stupid. I hate seeing you like this. Watch something else, for God's sakes. Watch a goddamned soap opera or something."
His tone made me suck in a breath. He saw it and sighed again, running a hand through his dirty blonde hair. "I'm sorry, Kate," He said. "I know. You're traumatized. Come here."
He drew me into his arms and held me close. I cried silently into his chest, still cold from outside. He rubbed my hair like Mom did, smoothing it down my back. "Shh," He whispered over and over. "It's alright."
He sat with me for an hour and we watched a goddamned soap opera, eating cookies. "I called Charlie and Noah," He said at the end, not moving to turn off the television.
I groaned. "Are they coming?"
"Charlie is," He replied, swallowing. "As soon as he gets back from some meeting out in California. Noah can't. He's in Switzerland on business. He sends his love, though."
I rolled my eyes. "Tell Charlie not to come."
"He's on his way," Tucker said. "But don't worry, Esther and the kids aren't coming."
Esther was Charlie's wife, and their kids, Josh, Tatumn, and Francis, were seven, five, and two. I was glad they weren't coming, but I still didn't want Charlie here.
"You've got to go back to work, Kit Kat," Tucker told me slowly. "They're only going to let you alone for a few days. Then you've got to come back. They want you to take over Lionel's job."
I turned to look at him. "What?"
"The museum called a few hours ago, while you were sleeping. I spoke to Mr. Orswell. He says you can have Lionel's job. You get his office, his salary, his benefits, everything. It's a step up from your position. You can start as soon as you want, but if they don't hear back by Wednesday, they're starting interviews for the position."
"No," I said. "I don't want his job."
"Well, what are you going to do, then?"
"Keep my job."
"You're his assistant. An assistant isn't much help without anyone to assist."
"I said I don't want his job."
Tucker lay back against the pillow, his arms crossed. "Come on, Katie. Don't be unreasonable. You can get over this. I can only be here for so long before I have to go back to work myself. I can find a therapist for you, if you want. That might be good."
"I don't want a therapist."
He sat up suddenly, exasperated. He threw his arms in the air. "Well, stop doing nothing! You've got to get out of this apartment! Go back to work! Do something! It's been almost two days! I can't stand it anymore."
I cringed at his words. He stared at me. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself," He muttered. "You didn't love the guy or anything. You hardly knew him at all. You're only upset because of how awful the accident was. Now it's time to get better and forget. You can do it. You're strong, Katie. We all know that."
A tear fell out of my eye. "No," I said stubbornly. "I didn't love him. But we were friends. We went on a date the night before the accident like I told you. He told me his brother died."
"Mom died, too," Tucker sneered, upset. "Everybody dies."
"Not like that," I faltered, the tears spilling over. "No one dies like that. Lionel did. I can still see all the blood."
"I know you can! Now pick yourself up and move past it! You're capable! It'll be hard, but people are here to help, okay? I'm going to bring you to the museum tomorrow morning, and you can tell Mr. Orswell yourself that you'll take Lionel's position. Everything'll be okay, Katie. I promise."
"You can't promise anything."
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How long is the Ubangi - Uele River?
1,074,882questions onAdd New Page
The Ubangi - Uele River is 1,429 miles (2,300 km) long. It has an average discharge of 4,003 m³/s. It flows into the Congo. The countries within its drainage basin are: Democratic Republic of the Congo, Central African Republic


text:
Top Seller
1982 MAC 300 in Morgantown, WV, USA
- Location:
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- Price:
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text: Builds on strong expertise in private asset classes and liability driven investing TORONTO, Feb. 6, 2014 /PRNewswire/ - Sun Life Financial Inc. (TSX: SLF) (NYSE: SLF) today announced the launch of its new asset management business, Sun Life Investment Management Inc., that will specialize in providing private asset class pooled funds (particularly in private fixed income, commercial mortgages and real estate) and liability driven investment strategies for defined benefit ("DB") pension plans and other institutional investors in Canada. "Through this initiative we will be offering the same types of expertise to third-party clients that we have built over the decades to manage our insurance assets," Dean Connor, President and CEO, Sun Life Financial said. "This broadens the asset management pillar of our enterprise strategy, providing an excellent complement to MFS Investment Management, Sun Life Global Investments ( Canada) Inc. and our Asian asset management businesses. We are starting the new business in Canada and intend to expand it to other markets over time." The new business will operate under the brand name Sun Life Investment Management, which also encompasses the investment operations of Sun Life Assurance Company of Canada that manages approximately $100 billion in assets, including approximately $38 billion in private asset class investments. Sun Life Investment Management is headed by Steve Peacher, Sun Life Financial's Executive Vice-President and Chief Investment Officer, who leads an investments team of more than 200 employees worldwide. As its initial product suite, Sun Life Investment Management Inc. will offer three pooled funds -- the Sun Life Private Fixed Income Plus Fund, the Sun Life Canadian Commercial Mortgage Fund, and the Sun Life Canadian Real Estate Fund - as well as liability driven investment strategies. These products and services are briefly summarized below and pending final regulatory approvals are expected to be available starting later this quarter or in the second quarter this year.


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$550 1 bed 1322 E Lee St. - 03, Tucson AZ, 85716
Previously Listed $550 1 bed
1322 E Lee St. - 03, North University, Tucson, 85716
Commute to Downtown Catalina Foothills
This apartment is in the North University neighborhood in Tucson. Nearby parks include Jefferson Park, The Main Mall and The Main Mall.
1322 E Lee St. - 03 has a Walk Score of 48 out of 100. This location is a Car-Dependent neighborhood so most errands require a car.
1 bedroom, 1 bath house for rent near the U of A. House is located at the back of the property with access through the alley. Kitchen includes a gas stove and refrigerator. House has Evap cooling. Tenant pays gas and electric utilities. Pets welcome with a $250 deposit. House is currently vacant.
Owner/manager tools | Report bad listing | From AppFolio.com
North University, Tucson, 85716
Most errands require a car.
A few nearby public transportation options.
Flat as a pancake, excellent bike lanes.
About your score
Explore how far you can travel by car, bus, bike and foot from 1322 E Lee St. - 03.
1322 E Lee St. - 03 has some transit which means a few nearby public transportation options. Car sharing is available from Hertz On Demand.
Bus lines:
1 Glenn/Swan
0.3 mi
103X Northwest-Downtown Express
0.4 mi
109X Catalina Hwy-Downtown Express
0.4 mi
102X Northwest-UA Express
0.4 mi
5 Pima/West Speedway
0.4 mi
105X Foothills-Downtown Express
0.4 mi
4 Speedway
0.4 mi
700 Sun Link
0.4 mi
15 Campbell Ave.
0.4 mi
9 E. Grant Road
0.4 mi
Car shares:
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Search for homes in Tucson or find a Tucson real estate agent who knows walkable neighborhoods. Links will open on our partner site Redfin.com.
1322 E Lee St. - 03 is in the North University neighborhood. North University is the 50th most walkable neighborhood in Tucson with a neighborhood Walk Score of 57.
Moving to Tucson from another city? View our moving to Tucson guide.


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For information on the Upper Grand DSB's Secondary French Review, please visit www.ugdsb.on.ca/secondaryfrenchreview
UPDATE: 2017 Registration and Selection Process
For details on the 2017 FI registration and selection process, please visit the board's FI registration page: https://www.ugdsb.on.ca/jkfi/
At the Board meeting on May 24, 2016 trustees approved the remaining recommendations on the UGDSB French Review, which had been endorsed at the May 10th Business Operations meeting. A list of all of the approved recommendations is posted below under documents.
Trustees received the Report of the French Review Committee-2015 at the Business Operations Committee meeting on January 12, 2016. At the board meeting on January 26, 2016 trustees directed staff to create a plan for four public information sessions on the UGDSB French Review. Trustees approved several recommendations of the Report of the French Review Committee, however they moved that recommendations related to the proposed enrolment cap and change in instructional time (recommendations #3, #4, #12, #13, #14, and #16) come back to the May 10th Business Operations meeting for consideration by the Board.
Information sessions were held in North Wellington, Dufferin. Guelph, and Centre Wellington throughout the month of March. These meeting provided the public with information on the problems, alternative and recommendations described in the report. Feedback on the proposed recommendations was also collected at each meeting. Please see the meeting schedule below for a copy of the presentation slides.
At the Business Operations meeting on April 12, 2016 the Human Resources Department provided an update on the implementation of recommendations #5-#11.
Learning a second language has shown to have a number of benefits to students, including enhancing critical and creative thinking abilities, increasing their understanding of other cultures and providing a career advantage both in Canada and abroad.
The board offers Core French and French Immersion (FI) at the elementary and secondary level.
FI has been offered by the UGDSB for the past 40 years and has seen incredible success, with enrolment increasing steadily each year. The success and popularity of the FI program is not just a local phenomenon, as increasing enrolment is happening across the province and country as well.
With this success, however, comes pressure to manage the sustainability of the program.
The increased growth rate of the FI program in the UGDSB has led to significant pressure accommodating students, multiple boundary reviews, and difficulty hiring enough qualified teachers. It has also resulted in increased transportation costs and managing equity of access and opportunities to all UGDSB students.
To address these pressures, the board created a French Review Committee to develop and evaluate options to help mitigate and manage these issues and ensure the sustainability of all English and FI track programs. Trustees endorsed the formation of the committee on January 13, 2015. The Terms of Reference for the French Review Committee were approved by the Board on March 31, 2015.
The committee's aim was to generate a range of recommendations by December 31, 2015, to the board for consideration.
When selecting committee members, every effort was made to ensure there is equitable representation of the board's geographic diversity. Members include parents, trustees, principals and teachers, board staff, Superintendents of Education, and union presidents.
The committee met a number of times to review and analyze data on enrolment trends, funding, staff hiring, instructional strategies and more.
The French Review Committee also asked for parents' input. Parents and guardians were invited to complete a short, confidential survey, sharing their thoughts on French Language instruction within UGDSB schools. Survey results formed part of the French Review Committee's final report, and a summary of responses can be found under the documents section below.


text:
- 1[uncountable, countable] the ability to experience and understand deep feelings, especially in art and literature a man of impeccable manners, charm, and sensibility artistic sensibility
- 2sensibilities [plural] a person's feelings, especially when the person is easily offended or influenced by something The article offended her religious sensibilities. The play gave no thought to the sensibilities of the audience.
NAmE//ˌsɛnsəˈbɪlət̮i//(pl. sensibilities)
Check pronunciation: sensibility


text:
Decoration idea Iridescent stars
Item number: 650.168.00
Shiny small plastic plates glitter in the light of the iridescent foil. The iridescent foil shines in vibrant rainbow colours as a ball, star or garland. Containing items
Custom arrangement of decoration ideas
Here you can add multiple items to the shopping basket at the same timeCreate list
Item added
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text:
Does the presence of non-breeders enhance the fitness of breeders? An experimental analysis in the clown anemonefish Amphiprion percula
- First Online:
- Received:
- Revised:
- Accepted:
DOI: 10.1007/s00265-004-0833-2
- Cite this article as:
- Buston, P. Behav Ecol Sociobiol (2004) 57: 23. doi:10.1007/s00265-004-0833-2
- Citations
- 311 Downloads
The stability of animal societies depends on individuals' decisions about whether to tolerate or evict others and about whether to stay or leave. These decisions, in turn, depend on individuals' costs and benefits of living in the group. The clown anemonefish, Amphiprion percula, lives in groups composed of a breeding pair and zero to four non-breeders. To determine why breeders accept the presence of non-breeders in this species I investigated the effect of non-breeders on multiple components of the breeders' fitness. Non-breeders did not assist breeders in any obvious way. Experimental removal of non-breeders had no significant effect on the survival, growth, or reproductive success of breeders. Experimental removal of one of the breeding pair showed that non-breeders had little effect on the time taken for a widowed breeder to recommence breeding. The results indicate that the presence of non-breeders neither enhances, nor reduces, the fitness of breeders in A. percula. I suggest that non-breeders might modulate their effect on the fitness of breeders, either by reducing the costs they inflict or by increasing the benefits they provide, such that it just pays breeders to tolerate, rather than to evict, them. This study illustrates that animal societies can be stable even when some individuals gain nothing from the association.


text:
Free flowing slightly thixotropic medium with an alkyd based. This medium will not increase gloss when added to oil colours. Fast drying and non-yellowing. Use this medium to thin oil paint. Stir before use.
It is is advised to store Jackson's Oil Medium at a stable temperature. Storage in an overly hot or cold environment will affect the consistency of the product.
Available in 3 sizes: 58ml, 250ml, 1 litre.
View PDF Material Safety Data Sheet
Please note, we cannot send by air mail anything which is hazardous and above 250ml; anything flammable or toxic; any aerosols, unless by special order. However, we may be able to arrange another means of shipping your order. Please contact our customer services department if you would like to discuss this.
|To use with
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|1000 ml
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|Flammable, Health hazard/Hazardous to the ozone


text:
PhD Industry Experience program
A highly skilled workforce is critical for building Queensland's future knowledge economy. The PhD Industry Experience Program encourages businesses and universities to collaborate in setting up short-term, unpaid industry placements for PhD students, to build their work-readiness and increase the competitiveness of the businesses.
For PhD students:
- a chance to demonstrate their skills to prospective employers
- opportunities to expand their practical workplace knowledge and understand industry needs outside a university setting
- a network of new colleagues, potential referees and industry contacts
- a challenging business project to help develop core work and commercially focused skills.
For businesses:
- new ideas and fresh perspectives
- access to university skills and technical expertise
- new talent for future employment opportunities
- help in advancing innovative projects.
For further information
Web: qld.gov.au/advanceqld
Email: email@example.com
Phone 13 QGOV (13 74 68)


text:
EUR/USD: bears ripped the "Rectangle" to shreds
Sergey Logachev
The market was trading in a flat for two weeks, which finally led to the current decline. There's a reversal "Triple Top" pattern, so the pair is likely going to reach a support 1.1217 – 1.1188. If we see a pullback from this area, bulls will have a chance to achieve a resistance area between the 55 Moving Average and the level at 1.1273.
As we can see on the one-hour chart, the price movement in a range of the "Rectangle" pattern was finally ended by the strong bearish rally. The price faced a support at 1.1259, so currently we've got a local upward correction. If the pair gets a resistance at 1.1284, a decline will likely continue towards a support at 1.1237 – 1.1219.


text:
- 1[uncountable] the activity of making secret plans in order to achieve an aim, often by tricking people political intrigue The young heroine steps into a web of intrigue in the academic world.
- 2[countable] a secret plan or relationship, especially one which involves someone else being tricked I soon learned about all the intrigues and scandals that went on in the little town. Sexual intrigues were almost part of the culture of politics.
- 3[uncountable] the atmosphere of interest and excitement that surrounds something secret or important North was a man who added to the intrigue of meetings.
NAmE//ˈɪntriɡ//, NAmE//ɪnˈtriɡ//
Check pronunciation: intrigue


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Customer Service available Mon - Fri 9am to 9pm EST Sat & Sun 1pm to 8pm EST
Eliza Clark
Customer Rating:
(Rate this!)
Full Length Play, Drama
2m, 3f
Recall explores our need to feel connected, understood and loved. No matter the damage, no matter the cost.
More Information Below:
Minimum Fee: $75 per performance
Full Length Play
Science Fiction
90 minutes
Time Period - Contemporary
Settings Of Play -
A motel roomA safe houseThe FacilityA nurse's officeMcDonaldsA gas station
No intermission
Unit Set/Multiple Settings
"Richly written, terribly intense, vividly imagined." - Chris Komanek, Theatermania.com
"Clark… has a real knack for suspense… and mines the mystery for deadpan comedy." - Chris Komanek, Theatermania.com
"What makes the play really work is how effectively Clark draws her characters with nuanced dialogue that never seems forced or in simple service of the plot as is a common pitfall with thrillers. She doesn't seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere, allowing the story to richen organically, yet there's a definite pace to the action, and it's not uncommon to find yourself on the edge of your seat."- Chris Komanek, Theatermania.com
"From the first moments of 'Recall,' as a parent drones on about reality TV while an adolescent scrubs ineffectually at a giant bloodstain on the carpet, we are firmly in the realm of arched-eyebrow mayhem that has proved rewarding for the likes of Quentin Tarantino and Martin McDonagh…Written by Eliza Clark the twisty, tense 'Recall' beats the lads at their sordid game." - Eric Grode, The New York Times
"Ms. Clark hands this plot thread with emotional precision." - Eric Grode, The New York Times
"Brilliantly disturbing...Creepy, suspenseful, impeccably acted." - Suzy Evans, Backstage.com
"Clark has a knack for naturalistic dialogue (particular, as in Edgewise, among teenagers)." - Alexis Soloski, The Village Voice
"[Clark's] love of (and proficiency with) the language of television storytelling shows. In the case of Recall, this is nothing to be ashamed of...A taut satirical drama." - Scott Brown, Vulture
"Clark commands her dialogue flawlessly; she's got a silver ear and a fully wound stopwatch...I walked out with a blue tinge in my fingertips, thoroughly entertained, satisfactorily unsettled." - Scott Brown, Vulture
Time Out Critics Pick!"Quietly chilling." - Adam Feldman, Time Out
"The rumored treatment for risky teens is called "the fish tank," an apt analogy for the culture of surveillance that Clark depicts unflinchingly: one so suspicious of memory, and so determined to stare blankly ahead, that it becomes strangely of a piece with its enemy." - Adam Feldman, Time Out
"A dangerous little razor of a play." - Michael J. Fressola, silive.com
"The excellent playwright knows that less is more. She is stingy with information, but a little more generous with comic relief. The audience hangs breathless onto every syllable. It has no choice." - Michael J. Fressola, silive.com
"To say anymore about 'Recall' will spoil the spell. Except for: The ensemble may be the best five-actor on any stage in the city and the show may be the most exhilaratingly intense 70 minutes you'll have in an audience this summer." - Michael J. Fressola, silive.com
JUSTINE - a motherLUCY - her teenage daughterDAVID - owns a safe houseQUINN - a boy, Lucy's peerCHARLOTTE - a scientist
N/A (Not a musical)
Eliza Clark has had her plays developed at Manhattan Theatre Club, the Studio at Cherry Lane Theatre, Page 73 Productions, Ensemble Studio Theatre, Provincetown Playhouse, The New York International Fringe Festival and Yale University. She has received commissions from South Coast Repertory and Yale University's O'Neill Studio. Clark was a member of Ensemble Studio Theatre's emerging writers group ... view full profile
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Coldabank Drops Summer-Tinged 'Lovin' You' Via Atl/Atlantic Records UK
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VickyT (Cobra Starship) Releases Single Ghost Today
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Jonathan Jackson + Enation's 'Revolution Of The Heart Video Premieres on CMT
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Joakim Molitor 'Always Gonna Say Sorry' ft. Maia Wright Out On Uniform Beat
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Watch: New Landon McNamara Music Video Premiering Now on Surfline
by BWW News Desk - May 25, 2017
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While the Academy deliberates what film was the best this year for us all, I'd like to take some time to talk about a film that touched my heart this year.
Valhalla Rising is the story of the mute warrior One-Eye. The film begins somewhere in the British Isles with a group of pagans using the nameless mute man as an ancient prize fighter of sorts. He is so dangerous, the clan uses a small child to put in his restraints so that he won't attack the older men of the tribe. Eventually, he finds a way to escape before being sold to another tribe. He and the child encounter a group of Christian Vikings that offer the warrior a place with them on their journey to Jerusalem to fight in the Crusade. After one of the vikings tells him that this journey will save his soul, One-Eye and the little boy set sail with the Christian warrior to the Holy Land. Valhalla Rising stars Mads Mikkelsen (le Chiffre in Casino Royale) and is directed by Nicolas Winding Refn.
The name Nicolas Winding Refn isn't a name that invoke a reaction from most people besides confusion or indifference. For those who've seen his films, the Pusher series, or the recently released Bronson.
Refn has had a temultuous relationship with the popular film critics. On Rottentomatoes, Bronson didn't break into the 80's and Valhalla Rising is currently holding a 69% approval rating.
Filled with brutality. - Dennis Schwartz
In the mood for a slower-than-molasses viking movie inspired by spaghetti westerns and samurai swordplay epics. Have we got the flick for YOU! - Pete Hammond
Excerpts from two negative reviews of the film.
To make the sort of statement that Valhalla Rising is a Samurai Swordplay epic isn't a damning statement to the film, but a manifestly telling statement of ignorance on the reviewers part.
A lot of the negative criticism surrounding the film was concerning the so called "graphic portrayals of violence," when in reality, these realistic and unromantic depictions of violence last for seconds and appear 6 times, totaling probably around two minutes of the film. What the message is sent from these reviews is that violence is only acceptable when abstracted, when it is made into anything but actual violence, so that the film experience may be comfortable for fucking sexually repressed old women.
Valhalla Rising's violence is not only a lesser part of the film, but an indictment of the cruel darker side of humanity.
What many failed to notice is the realism. From every costume to every weapon, to the dirt and grime, the year 1000 ADE is recreated with meticulous detail few so called 'period pieces' can ever achieve.
Aside from its incredible historical accuracy, Valhalla Rising is a savage humanist trip into questions of humanity and imperialism. It would be easy to miss the lines "You need money, that's the way to deal with these Christians," or the heavy imagery and symbolism. People call Inception confusing, even though it's simple. Valhalla Rising is a slow moving, but rewarding film. The last five minutes are among some of the most beautiful conflict resolution I've ever seen in any film.
Ultimately, beyond the violence or the history, Valhalla Rising is a classic tale of redemption, told in human terms - in place of religious terms.


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Post-Standard, The (Newspaper) - January 28, 2005, Syracuse, New York THE READERS' PAGE Friday. January 28, 2005 THE POST-STANDARD PAGE A 13 Oh! Those Clueless Democrats SEN. BARBARA BOXER Troublemaker7 (01 stir overdue (f ifKfll tiuMung To the Editor: Some juxtaposition. Your ed- itorial wonders why the letter-to- the-editor troublemaker Michael Crook provokes anger and dis- gust, and the next day's front page tells of Ward Churchill calling those killed in the World Trade Center bombings "little Eichmanns." Stirring up such sacred hornet's nests can certainly wake people im to do Jong over- due critical thinking! Jim McKepwn Cicero Series on Antarctica SEN. ROBERT BYRD D-West Virginia The Associated Press DEMOCRATIC SENATE leaders Robert Byrd of West Virginia (left) and Barbara Boxer of California speak out Tuesday during confirmation hearings for Con- doleezza Rice as President Bush's next secretary of state. i To the Editor: i I enjoyed Isabel Wolseley Torrey's articles on her Antarc- tica trip. I always look forward to her bi-weekly columns, but i this series was particularly enter- taining and educational. The pic- tures were spectacular, the lay- out v e'' done md rrap save j us a better perspective on this The party is misguided, or at best harmless To the Editor The Democratic Party once again finds itself trying to figure out what went wrong in a national election. I suggest that what went wrong is the liberal wing of the party. Today's liberals were shaped by the Vietnam War and 1960s radicalism. Essentially, there are two branches of liberalism today. One is the "Moon- beam Liberals." These folks are ba- sically harmless. They just want to be left alone to smoke pot, drop acid and make mad, passionate love in the after- noon on the front lawn. Most Moonbeam Liberals do not run for elected office, as that would inter- fere with their purpose in life. (George McGovem was an exception.) If they go to the polls (when thev car. find the polling they vote a straight Democratic ticket, as studying the is- sues would be too difficult. Generally, they didn't finish high school, and each went to Hollywood in a Volkswagen bus at some point in his or her life to get inio the movies. Whoopi Goldberg and Martin Sheen are examples of Moonbeam Liberals. The other branch of Dem liberalism is the "Screaming Meemies." This is the liberal" (an oxymo- ron) portion of the party. They believe the only time God's name should be spoken is as a prefix to a curse, and that if God really existed, He would be a woman anyway: that the state should give each boy in the nation a gross of condoms and a Hustler magazine for his 13th birthday, and each girl a gift certificate for a free abortion at the same age. They believe the institution of marriage should be outlawed (unless it is between same-sex and that illicit drugs should be legalized and given away by the state (to ensure equal access.) They believe prisons should be emp- tied, and violent offenders re-educated instead of imprisoned. (Then the empty- prisons could be used to incarcerate Christians, starting with George Screaming Meemies speak fluent French, scowl, howl, gripe, obstruct, and many foam at the mouth as they shake their fists at the heavens in bitter protest against the latest perceived wrong. Howard Dean, Teddy Kennedy and Nancy Pelosi are examples of Screaming Meemie liberals. If the Democratic Party wants to get back into the national ball game, it needs to amputate its left wing! Charles A. Lewis Phoenix Disrespecting blacks: Are Nancy Pelosi and the Democrats showing their colors" in backing ex- Klansman Sen. Robert Bjrd in his ef- fort to stall the confirmation of a black woman. Dr. Condoleezza Rice, as the next secretary of state? The African- American community has been so brainwashed by Democratic politics of promises that it does not recognize when it has been disrespected. Don't Pelosi and other Democratic leaders re- alize the confirmation of Dr. Rice will add a new page to the history of Amer- ica and blacks in America? Maybe they just don't care. Abdul-Ra'oof Mustafa, Syracuse A bold agenda: Bold initiatives to ensure a future of security, opportunity and responsibility dominate the newly released agenda for the Democratic Party, now the minority in both houses of Congress. "The American Promise" headlines serious security proposals top-quality equipment for soldiers in combat, increased Army and Marine personnel, taking the fight to the terror- ists and drying up their breeding grounds. The plan will end tax incentives for companies that send jobs overseas, and aggressively open foreign markets to U.S. goods. 1 his agenda also limits government spending and balances the federal budget. Jeremiah Johnson, Soonviiie If Patrick is gay, then Elmer Fudd must be, too To the Editor: The religious right has "outed" Spongebob Square- pants' little buddy, Patrick the Starfish. They have also discov- ered Bugs Bunny is gay because he sometimes wears women's clothing and kisses Elmer Fudd. Personally, I have always wondered about Elmer Fudd, confirmed bachelor. Does he kiss back? He is always running around with a shotgun, and we all know what that means. And Hnn't rrm ctjtrtfM on the androgynous Tweety Bird whole persona cries out 'interior Sexual-identity conflict as- cribes a level of psychological complexity to cartoon characters that is not supported by the cur- rent body of research. Over- whelmingly, recent studies sup- port the common-sense belief that cartoon characters are fairly simple creatures. It is unfortunate that religious- right groups, in their zeal to un- cover threats to our way of life, have latched onto the dimension of homosexuality. Wouldn't their time be more profitably spent investigating more imme- diate issues: Is Yosemite Sam a terrorist? Does Condi Rice live in a pineapple under the sea? Sterling Osgood Marcellus Moore turned around Upstate's misfortunes To the Editor: In the early 1990s. Upstate Medical University was saddled with acute and chronic financial problems; multiple chairmanship vacancies; the need for many new programs; and maintaining those that were ongoing. Fortunately, in 1993, after an exhaustive national search, Ben Moore agreed to become hospi- tal CEO. Within three years, fin- ancial strategies initiated by Ben in collaboration with the dean's office enhanced revenues and cut expenses, resulting in a black Bottom line. The budgets of the medical college and hospital are inter- twined, so this aided in recruit- ing new chairs, maintaining pro- grams and developing new ones to progress toward "cutting- edge medicine." I found Ben extremely easy to work with, with the entire insti- tution as his top priority. In my exposure at major institutions around the country, I have never found a more cooperative collab- orative hospital participant in an academic institution. The most distressing aspect of the managerial change is the way it occurred lacking all sensi- tivity, a characteristic all involv- ed in medical training try to in- still in our students. Joseph P. Whalen, M.D. Dean and professor emeritus Upstate Medical University New York City IB I Write to The Reoders'Poge The Post-Standard welcomes letters from readers sent by mail, fax or e-mail. Please follow these guidelines: 250 words or less: Shorter letters have a better chance of being published quickly. This entire box contains 250 words. Legible: Hand-written letters are welcome but take longer to publish. Identification: Include your name, full address and daytime telephone number. Only the writer's name and home town are published. Frequency. Writers may be limited to one letter per month because of the volume of mail. Commentary. Longer letters, up to 600 words, that are unusually compelling, well written or show a special expertise in a subject will oe considered. How to reach us Mail: The Readers' Page, Box 4915, Syracuse NY Fax: (315) 470-3081, directed to The Readers' Page. E-mail: in subject box, type "Post-Standard letter" andsendtolettersAsyracuse.com Contact For more information, call Fred Fiske at 470-2167. Anything you send us becomes the property of The Herald Co., puWnhersof The Post-Standard. It will not be returned. Such a submission, to name just a few examples, may be a letter to the cartoon, a picture, poem and the material mxv edited for length or content, and may be puoiisneooruseainanjr ou.c. Syracuse.com. 221. Hike akohol taxes too, like cigorettes To the Editor: You recently offered a well- reasoned argument to increase the state's excise tax on ciga- rettes. The same arguments apply to taxes on alcohol. Unfortunately, our state Leg- islature has failed to appreciate these simple facts. It actually re- duced the tax on beer for the past two years, ranking in the lowest 20 percent of states in this cat- egory. New York's tax on wine is the second-lowest. New legis- lation permits the sale of liquor on Sundays to increase tax reve- Increased alcohol sales will come at a much greater expense to the public than can be offset by the new tax revenue. Up to 40 percent of hospital beds are filled as a consequence of alco- hol abuse and dependence. Drunk-driving offenses threaten public safety and overburden courts. The cost of alcohol-related problems is measured in the hun- dreds of billions of dollars. Up to 90 percent of children in foster care locally come from house- holds where alcohol and other drug dependence is a major con- tributing factor. Babies exposed to alcohol during pregnancy de- velop mild-to-severe problems with cognition and behavior reg- ulation. I challenge you to endorse in- creasing alcohol excise taxes with the same prominence you gave to the tobacco taxes. A penny more a beer would generate up to million annu- ally. Some of the new money could fund early intervention services for alcohol exposed ba- bies, an effort Syracuse Brick House is seeking to develop. G. Richard Kinsella, president Syracuse Behavioral Healthcare Syracuse Brick House Syracuse Principal on inspiration who wifl be missed To the Editor: Jacalyn Stewart was an inspi- ration to everyone she came in contact with. She touched many lives, as evident by the over- whelming outpouring of support the community showed in the days after her passing. Jackie succumbed to cancer just three days before Christmas. When I first received the news of her diagnosis three years ago, I was in shock. She always was good to me and had a positive at- 10 vears before finishing high school in Oswego. When I grad- uated in 2001, Jackie bought me the Fulton yearbook and had my name engraved on the front. When I offered to pay her for it. she refused. I had the opportunity to meet her wonderful mother, Olga. It was clear where Jackie got her good qualities. Her son Glenn is a terrific kid who will succeed at whatever he does. He's a hard worker and has good motivation. I knew her passing was the best thing for her. She was a healthy, active, vibrant person, and watching her go through what she did was not the way she would have wanted it. Jackie made a difference in the lives of everyone she knew. Even though she's gone, she will always be with us. Sean Madden Oswego Landing on Titan is just the beginning To the Editor: Spectacular, indeed, is the ac- complishment of successfully guiding a spacecraft to the sur- face of Saturn's mystery moon, Titan. Yet the month of January holds one more, albeit unex- pected, surprise relating to far- away places and the age of the universe. In the January-February issue of the Journal of the British In- terplanetary Society, four Ameri- can scientists examine the moun- tains of information discovered about the universe in recent years and come to an incredible conclusion: Because our sun is a billion years younger than many others in our vast galactic neigh- borhood, surely there should be one or more highly advanced, extraterrestrial civilizations out there. But that's hardly their most amazing theory. The four scien- tists warn that science must not dismiss UFO reports out of hand because there may be evidence yet unknown to our science that visitors from elsewhere stopped by for their own leasons, via their own methods. Updated the- ories about space "wormholes'" and other discoveries in ohvsics have opened up a whole new area of thinking regarding our potential neighbors in the cos- mos. Getting from "there" to "here" may be as easy for an advanced life form as taking a shortcut to the next town. We required almost eight years to reach Titan at a distance of some 900 million correct, oider and wiser species may be eminently more familiar with Earth and its galactic terri- tory than are we. Robert Barrow Syracuse 'Comprehensive7 plan still needs lots of work To the Editor: We wish to support the effort to establish a comprehensive plan for the city of Syracuse. We have followed the evolution of this plan from its inception, and provide the following recom- mendations: The term "comprehen- sive" may be misleading. As UlCiC OlC UUMC {AUli UUMiilg Ul ti truly functional comprehensive plan, we recommend the current document be named a "concep- tual" plan stating the goals, or- ganizations and resources avail- able to this community. This plan lacks detailed descriptions of our roughly 26 city residential neighborhoods. These neighborhoods need to be defined in physical and historic form as the basis for creating specific planning and design guidelines in each area. This plan promotes unde- fined development, which is not based on adequate evaluation of existing business needs. The commercial centers of our down- town and neighborhoods are not supported by business develop- ment plans, which still need to be created. A continued pattern of demolition and "shovel-ready sites" fosters a devaluation of the character and historic fabric of our city. This plan lacks a design vi- sion for the future. There are no plans or views illustrating the or- ganization, physical form and image of our neighborhoods or downtown areas. A truly com- prehensive plan must include a design vision for residents and developers to appreciate and share. 1 This plan lacks a vehicle of delivery. A comprehensive plan needs to establish an adequate and qualified professional staff to carry out the plan on a day-to- day basis. Adopting your current docu- ment as a "conceptual plan, amended to include these five recommendations, a more truly "comprehensive plan" would be created, establishing the method- ology and process to assist our city in future planning and de- sign issues. Dtan A. Biancavilte, co-chairs American Institute of Architects With all the bad news in the world today, this wonderful se- ries was a breath of fresh air. Martha McConnell Greer Syracuse Working students need support not criticism To the Editor: As SUNY assesses why grad- uation rates are declining, I hope i it takes a holistic approach. I am a full-time employee in 1 Syracuse. I work evenings and attend SUNY Cortland during the day. I have been enrolled in the SUNY system for nearly five years, and I need 10 more class- es to complete my bachelor's de- gree. I have taken as many as 12 credits a semester and no less than nine, all while working 40 i hours a week. 1 Am 1 a drain on the system? Have my studies at Onondaga Community College and SUNY Cortland put an undue burden on taxpayers? i Most of the students I know work many and face} ear- 1 ly tuition increases. Quite often, the required classes are not of- fered due to staffing and funding 1 issues. Increasing numbers of part-time, adult and working stu- dents juggle hectic schedules to i gain an education. If it takes us longer to gradu- ate, so be it. It isn't Those who make the sacrifices should i be applauded, not insulted. Sean Burke Liverpool Noisy trash pickup jarring to taxpayers To the Editor: I attended school hi Fulton for the physicists' assumptions are Syracuse Eastwood, I am usually very ap- preciative of the city's services. I love the reliability of the trash pickup, and am usually happy with tne efforts of the Depart- ment of Public Works. However, after being awakened from a sound sleep for the second time in a few months, I feel the need speak up. Around I a.m., my husband and I awoke to the beeping and thudding of DPW trucks picking up Christmas trees. This went on for a while and was quite noisy, even waking both my children. In the fall, we were treated to a 3 a.m. wake-up for leaf remov- al that lasted a full 45 minutes. This is no quiet effort; had it been anyone else, I would have called the police. Although I ap- preciate their efforts, I wonder at the choice of time. I was tempted to call Mayor Driscoll so he, too, could enjoy the "party." Please, please, City of Syra- cuse, don't break your own noise ordinance. Continue to make the city a peaceful, enjoyable place that young families want to move into, not out of. Tina Morgan Eastwood America wouldn't abide torture, would it? To the Editor: Shortly after was shocked to hear a discussion on National Public Radio on the use of torture. I thought: Surely our counuy wouldn't join IWi Gei- many in the glib, official use of the worst of human sins. Now, NPR reports the horrible news of the extensive use of tor- ture in U.S.-run prisons. Holier- than-thou speeches by our elect- ed officials can't cover up the real evil of sanctioning such bar- barism. uarayeue ;
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War Thunder, an MMO for the upcoming PlayStation 4 has been revealed to have a holiday 2013 release date.
Gaijin Entertainment is behind War Thunder, a military vehicle MMO which has already seen success on PC but is still awaiting release on consoles. The developers are hoping to attract a new audience by making the leap to next gen consoles and introducing themselves to the PlayStation 4.
"We're convinced that our cooperation with Sony will not only make the War Thunder franchise better, but it will give our fans a new level of gaming experience that will figuratively blown their mind," said Kirill Yudintsec, creative director with Gaijin. "Partnering with Sony Computer Entertainment is the most natural progression for the War Thunder brand, from our hugely successful beginnings on PC with more than 1.5m players, to our recent announcement that War Thunder is under development for mobile devices. We are excited to bring War Thunder to the leading next-generation platform, the PS4."
Gaijin hopes to make use of the PS4's hardware to deliver new social and cloud based gaming features and they indicated head tracking support as well as full PlayStation Cloud support. At this point, there is no precise date for the console release, but Gaijin has stated that it will be out in time for the holidays, thus likely making it a launch title for the PS4. Check out the trailer below:


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Big Bad Donaghan
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Big Bad Donaghan is an English professional wrestler.
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