Safety Blue

La la la la
Drink Safety Blue
La di da da
They won’t come for you.
And you need not fear
For you
La la la la
You drink Safety Blue
La di da da
And they won’t come for you!

What a stupid song. The lyrics are juvenile. The melody is sickeningly alluring. But then, it was supposed to be. It does catch on. It gets stuck in your head and refuses to leave. When I awake in the dark of night that song often fights its way into my head. I shout, sing, beat it out. But it never leaves for long. La la la la…

Whoever created it thought they had made something snappy. They were right. Every man, woman and child in the colony knows Safety Blue by heart. While shopping, people hum it. I even caught my dad bellowing it in the shower the other day. It is everywhere! They taught it to us first thing in preschool. They drill us with it in high school. That’s not enough; they saturate our life with it through TV and music. Every station plays the darn song at some point during each program. La di da da…
Our culture is a Safety Blue culture!

It is sickening! I can’t even stand the taste of Safety Blue. I don’t think anyone can. My parents screw up their faces every morning when they drink it. My little sisters mix theirs with orange juice. I don’t care what they say about it, they’re lying.

I’ve been studying 21st century advertising and marketing techniques in one of my classes. Interesting stuff. They used to create songs back then to sell products. They called them ‘jingles.’ Some big company would pay an advertising firm to come up with a snappy jingle to sell their new product. The jingle would then be released on radio, in TV commercials, or before movies. It too would stick in peoples’ heads and they would go out and buy whatever the jingle promoted. Just like that, they’d go out and buy it! They got so good at jingles that Government started passing laws against them.

Well, I think someone did his homework as the new colony was getting started. That someone was R.G. Hughlilly. He revived the dreaded jingle. And it works still. Every last person in the colony drinks his product religiously. No exceptions! I’ve been checking. And every one of them is convinced if they stop ‘they’ will come for them. Not a bad way to keep your customers loyal and coming back, now is it? Drill into them that if they stop buying the stuff, they will die. ‘They’ are coming to get you. He has imprisoned us all.

I know I am still young, but I’ve never seen ‘they’ come for anyone or show any form of aggression in my life. The Bearfalo don’t even fight amongst themselves. They are content to graze night and day on the soft grasses that surround the colony. Often they graze inside the colony on our plants as well. No one truly fears them any more.

--p2--

But they did once. And R.G. Hughlilly knew that well. My research brought me to the very beginnings of our colony. The first party to land on the planet was killed. The second party landed to recover them. They reported large furry creatures with powerful front limbs attacking their ship, the bearfalo. The creatures move on either four legs or upright on two. They had small horns and blunt claws. They reminded the second party of a cross between buffalo and bear.

The third landing party set up a fortress-like stockade and got a firm foothold on the planet. Dad said the stockade finally collapsed right before my birth. It used to surround the town building and Mayor’s office. I found pictures of it. The bearfalo were kept out as the settlers arrived. Twice they broke through. They crashed in doors and pulled people out of their beds. Eight people died the first time and five the second. Many were wounded before the animals were stopped. In that period ten more settlers were killed, but always outside the stockade.

And R.G. Hughlilly stepped up with his new elixir. He cited the work of fellow scientists stating that the bearfalo’s aggression might result from human pheromones. It was a ridiculous theory and the colony laughed him to scorn. But Hughlilly was relentless. He started his advertising and wrote his jingle. He even moved his factory outside the stockade to show that Safety Blue really did work. And ever so slowly he won the people over. Convinced, they started buying Safety Blue daily and telling their children stories of the once terrible bearfalo.

That is how it used to be. Dad told me those stories too when I was very young. But no one cares anymore. My little sisters have never heard about the aggressive bearfalo other than what is alluded to by the jingle.

Hughlilly was lucky and knew how to play off of a coincidence. He, or more correctly his son since R.G. passed away several years ago, is by far the richest person in the colony.

And so it was that I decided to stop drinking Safety Blue. Through this paper I hoped to reveal the corrupt power that R.G. Hughlilly has wielded over our naive colony.

One week has passed. At first nothing happened. My parents caught on after two days and told me I was foolishly endangering the entire family. We had a fight. Dad kicked me out. I’ve been living with my Fiancée since. She was worried but supportive. She is sleeping in a different room, as is proper, though with the door locked just in case. Just in case what? In case they come? It made me chuckle. I hoped she wouldn’t keep it up for long.

It was the third day when the first incident occurred. I say incident, but it was really nothing. That darn song has just made us all paranoid.

I was walking home from the school along the Easthill trail as a herd of bearfalo sauntered across. I walked around the herd, showing them the due respect they deserve. They are very large and impressive. While observing the herd I bumped into one of the stragglers. I gasped and stepped back. The bearfalo continued several steps as if it didn’t notice, then stood up and watched me as I walked away. It dropped back down and followed me for almost a minute. At one point it was right next to me and sniffed my hand. I patted its side. It then rejoined the herd.
I smiled and tried to imagine the beast as aggressive.

--p3--

The second incident happened the next day. I was out running with my fiancée on the other side of the colony. A large herd was grazing on the side of the hill above us. My fiancée touched my elbow and I stopped running. Above us the herd was silent. None were grazing now. They just watched us. My fiancée’s look reminded me that it was not us, it was me. She shuddered and ran back to the colony without waiting. The bearfalo in the back stood up. The whole herd faced me and seemed to be waiting for something. Their large eyes bored into my soul. None of them blinked. I tell you it was eerie, but I was thickheaded. I ruled it off as coincidence.

The following day I got unlucky. At lunch I was on my way to school. A group of elementary students was walking the same direction, out to their building. There was a very small heard just off the trail grazing. One of the kids threw a girl’s computer at the herd. It hit the side of a bearfalo and fell to the ground. The darn animal didn’t even look up. Being closest, I walked over to pick it up for the girl. The bearfalo turned and looked at me, its eyes wide and black. I picked up the little computer just as one of the males pushed past the grazing females and stood erect ten feet from me. It was massive. The thing let out growl that set my knees shaking. When I didn’t move, it immediately bellowed in a manner I interpreted as hostile, its mouth opened wide. I never knew they could open their mouths that wide. I never knew they had several large, sharp teeth amongst their molars either.

Needless to say the kids burst out crying and the teachers started singing that cursed jingle to calm them.

Yesterday I grew paranoid. Every time I went out there was bearfalo sitting alone watching me. No matter where I went. Mere coincidence, but it was always there. The previous days accident had done more than enough to make me fear “them” coming for me. I opted not to leave my fiancée’s apartment the rest of the day. Once she got home she yelled at me. I tried to take it stoically but fear I failed. She ended up in tears and locked herself in the other room. I sat awake in her bed most the night stewing angrily on the many coincidences of the week. She woke once and sobbed herself back to sleep. I longed to hold her but knew she wouldn’t let me until I started drinking Safety Blue again.

Then the noises began. They were quiet and indistinct. There was no pattern; they came sporadically once or twice an hour. I didn’t need to go to the window and look down on the street to feed my curiosity. I knew. And I feared that I might not just be paranoid anymore. ‘They’ were sniffing around.
I slept little if at all.

By sunrise I had resolved to leave my fiancée for a bit. Just in case there might actually be any credence to the whole Safety Blue issue, you know. I sprinted through the streets as the sun peaked over the hills. One solitary bearfalo followed me through the colony, far in the distance. I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t want to harm anyone. I needed to be somewhere alone and safe.

That’s what brought me here to the colony detention building, one of the sturdiest buildings on the planet. My employee password and palm print were all I needed to get in. The building is entirely automated. No one is stationed here when there are no prisoners. There haven’t been prisoners for more than a year.

I stopped on the way and bought some Safety Blue. I’ve drunk four now and think I’m going to vomit. It hasn’t done any good. As soon as it was dark they attacked the building. I couldn’t believe what the surveillance cameras showed me. They are strong. Much stronger than any of us thought. And they are smart. Within an hour these grazing animals had broken into the building. They ripped through the security gates. They are coming for me.

--p4--

I’ve locked myself in the last containment cell. The door is solid steel. The power has gone out. I write in darkness. They are against the door. Their howling is terrifying. Their claws, their claws...

They are coming for me. I don’t think there is anything I can now do. If I don’t survive this, whoever finds this letter please give it to my family. Oh my fiancée, please, tell her I’m sorry. I’m oh so very sorry. Why didn’t I listen? Why didn’t I believe? Tell her I love her so much.

And tell my friends, all of them, in fact tell the whole colony: Its true, drink Safety Blue and they won’t come for you!

The Art Festival

There were many kids in the park that day. The art festival had attracted the majority of the town. People walked in narrow pathways treading down overgrown grass. They viewed the local talent. An art teacher had arranged a display under a weathered blue tarp consisting of several imitations of lesser known impressionist like Frédéric Bazille, whose brief career was shortened by the Franco-Prussian War. From another booth a collection of wind-chimes made primarily of silverware clanked over the hum of the crowd. Large groups of children ran together in relay races, some trailing bright colored fabric attached to oversized headbands. Little dancers waited undaunted in mismatched uniforms for a boy – with his hands on his hips – to figure-out the make-shift sound system.

There were many kids in the park that day. A small girl with pigtails too short to be held in with anything but a pasty mixture of cornstarch and water fell when she tried to climb onto the counter of an unsteady booth. The engineer of the booth reached out her hands and comforted the child, gave her taffy and then pushed her towards some other children when she started smiling again.

Conrad watched the sticky taffy girl. He stacked a pile of red paper Coke cups under the counter and then refilled the empty napkin holder. His boss, Thayne, watched him over his shoulder and followed Conrad’s stare. The summer was hot and dusty. The temperature seemed to spike earlier that July when Conrad climbed out of the oversized diesel and thanked the driver for the ride. He had been working hard now for almost a month but the fabric of his blue uniform started to itch around the neck. And his mouth had felt too dry ever since he passed the sign that welcomed him back to Colton.

“Go do a pick” Thayne said.

Conrad didn’t acknowledge that he had heard as he moved out of the back flap of the tent and started to pick up empty cups and candy wrappers that had been discarded and smashed. All around him the festival continued but all he saw was sticky wrappers and halve eaten taffy gobs.

Young mothers grouped around talked about who they had and hadn’t seen at church the previous Sunday. Men stood in semi-circles surveying the crowds and silently slipping off one by one to find something to drink.

Ariann scooped her baby boy and walked to a small group of men. Two children followed closely in her wake as the crowed parted slightly. The six-year-old girl held the arm of her younger brother as he kept close on his mothers heals. The day had grown hotter and the trees seemed sparse in the July heat.

“I’m getting lemonade, you want some?” Ariann asked. She handed the baby to her husband and then started searching her purse.

“No, I’m fine.” Eric put little Carter down on the grass and watched him as he made small circles around his legs. The child was content to be away from other children, unlike his older siblings who were always within arms length of each other.

“I’ll take these two with me, watch him.” Ariann turned away without waiting for a response still looking in her purse for correct change.

Baily and Mathew peered over the wooden counter and decided that pink was what girls should drink and yellow is what boys should drink. Ariann followed the children’s advice and ordered pink lemonade for herself and Baily and a regular lemonade for Mathew. She sorted the exact change on the table while Mathew pulled on her purse.

“What ‘bout Carter, momma, what ‘bout Carter?”

“He’ll have some of mine, baby.”

“Carter momma, Carter.”

“Sweetheart its okay boys can drink pink lemonade too.”

The odd cries didn’t lesson and people were starting to turn from their booths and stop what they were doing.

Ariann caught her husband’s eye. He was watching Mathews growing tantrum and started over to where they were so that he could intervene before Baily joined Mathew’s chorus. He walked the short distance that had separated them and lifted Baily onto his shoulders. Mathew was hysterically rolling on the grass, but Ariann was perfectly still waiting for her son to stand back up on his own.

“Where’s Carter?”

“He followed right behind me” Eric said and turned to grab carters hand.

Conrad bounced the baby in his arms gently as he moved towards the exit of the park. Conrad was surprised about how remarkable receptive this child, his child, had been, and how satisfied he was to eat the tiny bits of candy that had just been taken off the ground, not like Parker.

“I think I’ll call you Carter for a while, would you like that?”

“see-ai-errr”

Night Travelling

by Trevor Parker

Amazement; a feeling that fills me as the horizon passes.

Red rock cliffs alone solemnly salute the setting sun.

Mountain and hill rising majestically from desert floor;

They circle round me as earthy ripples of God’s splendor.

The hills are clear, the hills are pure,

Ornamented with only the simplest brush.

They are unafraid to reach up and touch the heavens that,

In the fading light,

Hang low and seemingly bow down to meet the earth.

The noble blue sky fades to gray,

An inevitable progression to black.

The sun casts the last of its warm glow over the western rim of creation;

A warm orange reminder that the sun will return in the not so distant future.

The red cliffs and hills grasp at the light as it slowly slides away.

The fires of the sun, dwindling reluctantly,

Are finally extinguished in mere temporal defeat of night.

Through Cities we pass, past towns we speed.

Green fields lay in peace,

Slowly vanishing into the dark.

Trees rest from the day’s breezes.

And as the eye passes from their silent boughs

The first glint of light awakes in the night sky.

With a shrug of a twinkle,

The star dawns its nightly vigil.

One to wish upon, then two! Three becomes four!

With glimmering spurts they appear in groves.

They add hope in the colorless void that so recently was filled with blue.

Strange hulks of shapes linger just out of our little lights range.

Dense fog flits in through the hills.

Night sounds creep past us as we continue on our way.

With pillow against the window,

I doze until dawn.

Butterflies

by Trevor Parker

I’m hiking along the ridge trail that leads up from Twin Peaks to Black Peak. Twin Peaks are a double peak, shaped like a camel’s humps, that sit on the first foot hills overlooking Salt Lake City. Black Peak is three and a half miles further up this ridge that leads to the main spine of the Wasatch mountains.

Once past Twin Peaks, the sounds of the city quickly fade. The wind roars over the mountains. Nature becomes much more abundant: there are falcons, eagles, slow horny toads, fast spotted lizards, and many insects. It is spring and flowers are in bloom. The hillsides are covered with big yellow blossoms and dark blue flowers. The grass is green. Higher up there is still deep snow clasping to the peaks contrasting with the spring life around me. It is all very beautiful.

A shadow by my foot brings me to a stop. I look down and see that the shadow is actually a very large and very hairy caterpillar scurrying across the trail. It stops suddenly, sensing me. It is unsure of how to continue. I crouch down and stare at it. It is large and fat. It has long spiky black hair tipped with tan. There are a few red markings around its squat head. Two large black eyes, taking up all of the bug’s face, regard me. Then with enough time already lost, the caterpillar rushes around my foot with amazing speed and heads into the rocks and grass to the side of the trail. I follow it, bending over close to the ground and watching its progress.

And it hits me. This fat caterpillar has been eating well, and is in search of another healthy plant to consume. I look over and see a tall flower whose leaves are shredded and eaten. Its beauty already draining from the peddles as the plant’s life ebbs. This little caterpillar and so many like it live off of destroying the beauty around us. This ugly little caterpillar eats the things that make the mountain beautiful. If left unchecked, the caterpillars can bring destruction to whole forests and mountainsides. Luckily I came across it. I will not leave it unchecked.

I stand. Movement catches my eye. I am distracted from my current train of thought as a large yellow and black butterfly bobs in the wind in front of me. It is very large, as big as the palm of my hand. The yellow is vibrant and lays in stripes of varying shape and size on the black wings. It creates an intriguing pattern so articulate and breathe taking, it makes me wonder how nature consistently creates these types of things, and never repeats a pattern. The black of the wings is also captivating. As the butterfly dances through the breeze, the black shifts and sparkles subtly. It is iridescent. I have seen these tiger butterflies countless times and never noticed this before.

The butterfly swoops down onto the devastated flower to my side; respite from the struggle with the wind. I think this butterfly is really beautiful. It adds to the feeling of spring that surrounds me. In fact, as wonderful as the mountains are right now, wouldn’t it be more incredible if these majestic butterflies were everywhere? Swarms of them swirling in the air. They would drink a little from the flowers, but otherwise leave the mountain unharmed. It would be magic.

The butterfly lifts off the flower and flutters on along the ridge. I follow it with my eyes and thank it for visiting me, and then I turn and continue on my hike. But I suddenly remember the caterpillar, and my previous train of thought.

I turn back, and locating the caterpillar, squish it with the heel of my boot. Good riddance to bad rubbish. One less caterpillar to destroy the beauty that surrounds me. I then continue on up the mountain trail hoping to see just one more butterfly…