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Blackpines: The Magpie Witch: The North Star in Eclipse

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Addison Lane

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“Before I could even think of a suitable retort – hopefully a witty one – I saw, out of the corner of my eye, someone walking with deliberate purpose from the cafeteria entrance toward our table. I turned my head in that direction, and when I recognized who this someone was, my heart leaped to my throat, and I almost forgot to breathe. Speaking of the Devil, I thought, as I beheld the familiar presence of Martina Elizabeth Reynaud, considered by many to be one of the prettiest girls in the Class of 1983. Even dressed as she was – denim jeans and a matching jacket, with a plaid button-down blouse, scuffed girls’ Keds sneakers, and her long chestnut hair pulled up into a simple ponytail that bobbed up and down when she walked – Marty was simply, heart-achingly gorgeous. Wherever and whenever she was in a room – even a busy cafeteria – she almost always got looks of admiration and/or envy from her fellow students. Most of the guys in our school wanted to be with her, while many of the girls wanted to be like her. She was tall, lithe, and naturally sexy; these physical attributes drew a lot of attention to her. Most guys, including me, paid particular attention to them, mainly on the rare occasions when she wore her athletic shorts and T-shirt on the way to change in the girls' locker room after her fourth-period PE class. She was also one of the nicest, sweetest people who went to South Miami. She almost always had a pleasant smile or a cheery 'Hello, there!' – especially early in the morning, when most of us were either grumpy or still groggy from waking up early to get to school.”

CrushTeen LoveSouth Miami HighMarty Reynaud
Book:Reunion: Coda: Book 2 of the Reunion Duology
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“So, Jim, are you going to sing a solo at the Christmas concert?" Bruce Holtzman whispered to me as we sat in our usual seats in the back of the crescent-shaped dais, strategically placed between the basses and the tenors. “I know you’ve been saying you don’t want to, but you still have a few days to practice – if you change your mind, that is.” “I don’t think so,” I muttered back as quietly and firmly as possible. Class was still in session, and even though Mrs. Quincy was easygoing and not as strict as some of the other teachers at South Miami High School, she still expected us to focus on learning our songs for the concert and behaving like mature young adults. Not like “a bunch of undisciplined hooligans,” as she once put it. “But it’s an easy way to get extra credit,” Bruce persisted. “I don’t get it. You’ve been a Singing Cobra for what? Nearly a year now? And we only get a few chances to shine per semester, you know.” “Bruce,” I said, trying to keep my voice low and calm so as not to draw attention. “I don’t mind singing in a group, as part of a larger unit. Singing a solo? That’s another story altogether.” “Why? What’s the difference?” “I don’t know,” I confessed. “Safety in numbers, maybe? I’m perfectly happy to sing the songs in the program and let others who want to sing a solo strut their stuff. I get nauseous at the thought of going on stage and singing all by myself in front of everyone in the auditorium.” “Why, Jim,” Bruce exclaimed with a surprised, puzzled tone, “don’t tell me you still get stage fright!” “Hey,” I snapped, “pipe down, man. Do you want us to get in trouble with Mrs. Quincy? I’m not doing a solo. End of story.” “Okay, okay,” Bruce said in a placating tone. “But that extra credit sure will look good on your transcripts come next year. Especially if you want to get a scholarship.”

ChorusSouth Miami High
Book:Reunion: Coda: Book 2 of the Reunion Duology
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“Connor Scarborough was a local legend. Unlike most of the Holloway High kids who had been going to school together their entire lives, Connor hadn’t shown up until halfway through eighth grade. And when he did, he stood out like a sore thumb. Not because he was the new kid or because of his fondness for black tank tops and denim jackets, but because of the scar. Red and jagged, it ran from beneath his bangs all the way down through his left eye to the middle of his cheek. And it didn’t take long at all for the stories to start. Or for the cruel nicknames to spread.”

RomanceYoung AdultShort StoryHalloweenHalloween RomanceHalloween Store
Book:Secondhand: And Other Stories
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“one of the first acts of the Young Lords in Chicago was to join the Rainbow Coalition-uniting with our allies, our brothers and sisters, in the Black Panther Party, the Brown Berets, the Young Patriots, and Rising Up Angry. The Young Lords understood the importance of collaboration and of building a broad people's movement in order to transform society.”

ChicagoBlack Panther PartyYoung LordsBrown BeretsPlack PanthersYoung Patriots
Book:Through the Eyes of Rebel Women: The Young Lords, 1969-1976
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“Though he was gone, Stairway to Heaven lingered in the gentle breeze. Sartre and Freya, while holding hands, began to sway back and forth until they found themselves wrapped in each other’s arms. Starting in Gimli, everyone followed their lead. Soon, across the whole world, and like the last song at a high school homecoming in the late 70s, people slow danced with each other.”

High School Dances
Book:Operation Cosmic Teapot
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“»Du bist Nummer 55«, sagt Marga. Manuela blickt auf zu der Nummer über ihrem Schrank. Eine schwarze 55. »Deine Kleider tragen die Nummer 55. Deine Schuhe gehören in die Stiefelkammer in das Fach 55, dein Mantel und dein Hut kommen unten neben dem Hauseingang in die Garderobe, Abteilung 55. Deine Waschkabine ist Nummer 55, ebenso dein Bett.« Manuela fühlte, wie sie langsam zu Nummer Fünfundfünfzig wurde.”

LgbtLgbtqia CharactersBoarding Schools
Book:The Child Manuela
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“Calling people out their names is a bad habit the people of European descent seem to have. The one that takes the rag off the bush is how they went all the way to Africa and called nature out of its name...Victoria Falls, Leopoldville, Johannesburg, Lake Victoria, Lake Rudolf, Lake Albert, etc. The W.F.'s that came here did the same thing with the indigenous people living here...called them Indians; and years later missionaries, government officials, census takers, etc., "tidied up their records and account books by arbitrarily shortening or changing the names of their charges." "He Who Causes Fear" and "Brave Chief" suddenly became Indian Joe and Bob.”

IndianNative AmericanIndigenousColonizationBoarding Schools
Book:Thursdays and Every Other Sunday Off: A Domestic Rap by Verta Mae
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