Game Review: Dames Are Trouble

Hello there. Your name is Jim Novek, private investigator. You're a pretty upright fellow, but you've got your a little vice: you keep falling for them dames. And it's gotten you into trouble. This time you went head over heels for Vivienne; initially, everything was peaches and cream. That is, until the the dough ran out, at which point, so did she.
Dames Are Trouble is an interactive fiction game released in 2006 for Palm devices running OS 3.0 and up; it's reminiscent of older text-based adventures, and based in what seems to be a 1940's city (maybe Chicago). The entire game area is played in a single city block, and you about exploring, seeking information about the whereabouts of Vivienne, the titular dame, who, of course, has proved to be trouble, stealing your money, your car, and stuff that you generally value.
You've managed to find her apartment (the game starts there) but you can't enter until you know which apartment she's taken to living in. You thus decide to start doing what you do best: investigating.
I, the reviewer, do not want to give away too much information on the game (or how you solve it) but I must say it takes some patience, particularly if you're unfamiliar with interactive fiction titles. Unlike most IF (interactive fiction) titles, instead of a parser that you can type commands into, all possible actions (i.e. go west, climb fence) are right out there, simplifying things, although if you're used to IF like Zork, where everything is typed, it may seem a little dumbed down. On the other hand, it's a lot easier if you have a Palm like mine, a Tungsten T|5, which lacks a physical keyboard (though, if you can find an external secondhand in the year I write this review, 2010, congratulations).

I won the game in about 25 minutes. Graphically, it was pretty impressive considering it was intended for Palm OS 3 (and I'm currently running OS 5). The story, while not anything to dial home over, was still quite amusing, and a nice little reminder that this genre can go much, much further.

Links:
Download Dames are Trouble Here:
http://www.inebooks.com/NewDetailDames.htm


http://download.cnet.com/Dames-are-Trouble/3000-7564_4-10909948.html

 and in case the first link is broken, here:


http://www.freeware-palm.com/download-dames-are-trouble-v1-0.html


NOTE TO MY READERS:
Dear readers, I understand that I have promised you a full on special on video games. I trust that you'll be pleased to know that said special is still underway, delayed on account of life, but by no means canceled.

Jourdan Cameron on Video Games, 2010

To celebrate the Video Games Live special on PBS, I intend to write a series of articles on, as you might have guessed, video games, in particular about their origins, impact, current status, and future (from my viewpoint).

Official Website of VGL:
http://www.videogameslive.com/index.php?s=home

Special Announcement

I have the feeling this isn't quite what you were expecting, but on July 31, 2010 is a very, very, special program on PBS. Video Games Live. If you enjoy gaming, symphony orchestras, rock concerts or PBS (or even happen to enjoy all four as I do), then you'll want to tune in to your local PBS station to watch Video Games Live. Featuring music from Final Fantasy, Halo, The Legend of Zelda and many other games, it will most certainly change your appreciation of classical music, video games, and quite possibly both, forever.
I intend to tune in.

Trailer:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uzHLeDBKprA&feature=Jourdy288

2010: Odyssey Two

"Hello there, reader. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill, and read this blog over-" - Hal 9000 (not an actual quote of his, but sounds like one if you imitate that hauntingly soothing voice)

Cover of 2010: Odyssey Two

2010: Odyssey Two is the sequel to 2001: A Space Odyssey, by Arthur C. Clarke. Having read it, I must say that I really enjoyed it! That said, this sequel is not for everybody; I know a great many people who would be bored to tears at the mere idea of a sequel to 2001. However, if you enjoyed the original, or if you enjoy 'hard' science fiction (although this book struck me as a mix between hard sci-fi and fantasy) I can definitely recommend it.
In this book, a mission to return to Discovery and figure out what went wrong with HAL (along with gaining more information on the monolith) has been launched, and the Alexei Leonov soars through space, to seek and discover.
Something odd, however, has occured, and in the interest in not giving away too much about the book, I refuse to write in my review just what that it. However, I will inform you (the reader) of this much: Bowman is back.
The crew of the Leonov observe another mission: that of the ill-fated Tsien, which landed upon Europa (a moon of Juptiter).
In all, this book was an extremely satisfying read, likely to keep one company on a trip across the skies at it soars the imagination.
Now I shall move on to 2061: Odyssey Three. I intend to review it as soon as I've read it.

NOTE: I apologize for any unnecessary poetical manner; I intend to release whatever poetry lies within me very, very soon.

Kamehameha the Great

Kamehameha the Great
by Jourdan Cameron
Kamehameha the Great the first king of Hawaii, born during what is generally believed to be 1758. Although his exact birth date is unknown, 1758 is usually accepted as the year of his birth, because it was foretold that there would be a great king who would unite the islands of Hawaii, and the sign that he was born would be a comet. During 1758, Halley’s Comet could be seen over Hawaii, and this led to the assumption that he was born shortly after it was sighted.
In ancient Hawaii, although there was a twelve month lunar calendar, the years were not recorded. Thus, we can only speculate as to the exact age of Kamehameha. His name means “the one set apart”, and indeed, he was one set apart in accomplishments.
He was very well known for instituting mamalahoe, or the “Law of the Splintered Paddle”, which protected the lives of civilians worldwide during wars, and for the unification of Hawaii.

Early Life

He was born on the Big Island of Hawaii as Paiae, meaning “Hard-Shelled Crab” His parents were Keoua and Keku`iapoiwa. His father, Keoua, was a high priest, and his mother, Keku`iapoiwa, was the daughter of King Alapai. The kahunas, or priests, witnessed a comet, and foretold it to be the sign of a coming slayer of chiefs. As a result, Alapai ordered the slaughter of all male infants. Little Paiae was carried away to the mountains, to be raised by a couple without children. Paiae sorely missed his family, and it is because of this he changed his name to Kamehameha, or, “The Lonely One”.
Later in his life, he was placed under the guidance of his uncle Kalaniopu'u, who was Chief of the Big Island. Because of Kamehamehas fighting skills, he was named keeper of the war god when his uncle died in 1782, thus placing him second in command to Kalaniopu'u's son, Kiwaloha. As a youth, Kamehameha was extraordinarily strong.

“Kamehameha knew that this could be a day of death, or great fame. If he failed in what he proposed to do, then the kahuna of the Hilo king might drown him, strangle him, or beat him to death this very afternoon for violation of a mortal kapu.
The test in the minds of both Kamehameha and his tutor was whether this sturdy, brown-skinned youth with the solemn face and the dignified bearing of the Alii was going to be able to move the giant black lava boulder called the Naha Stone…That giant boulder of pitted puka-puka or “hole-hole” cooled lava flow was as heavy as the King’s giant, forty-man dugout canoe… This, the Naha Stone, was as mammoth an object as any one man might conceivably dream of moving by himself.”(Tregaskis 2)
A massive test lay before Kamehameha, moving a massive boulder. Yet, he set about to do it. He cried “Hail to Lono”, shortly before this gargantuan task, and did this because the priests of Lono were considered the incarnates of the god during the Maka-hiki, making a nearby kahuna feel venerated. With this, he set about to moving this titanic rock.
He started. With massive effort, he felt success! The stone moved, and he was now a hero! Until he took a closer look. The stone moved but a few inches. A kahuna began approaching him, carrying an image of the god Ku-kaili-moku on a pole, mother-of-pearl eyes reflecting the sun. Kamehameha knew that this could the end of him. Thus, he renewed his grasp on the Naha Stone, and with much effort, got the boulder to leave the ground, and he moved it about five feet. He stopped to catch his breath. Naeole, his tutor, was smiling proudly. But this victory wasn’t enough for young Kamehameha.
“This time, he would not only life the end, but bring the whole end of the rock straight up, and heave it onto the other side. This time he lifted his end of the rock higher, with the leverage of his own weight, and with all the adroitness of a surfer scrambling into the curl of a big booming wave, he began to force his way up the slope of the rock until it stood almost upended…. He summoned the extra muscular effort from the depths of exhaustion and fatigue, and pushed the boulder over the top of the arc so that it fell with a crunching thud, and a splashing of ground-water on the far side.”
Young Kamehameha, not content with simply rolling the stone over, went a few extra miles and pushed it all the way over a cliff!
Shortly after, there was a feud most unfortunate, and Kiwaloha, the firstborn of the (deceased) Alapai (Kiwaloha was supposed to take the throne) was killed. Kamehameha was now King of the Big Island. Because of his ancestry, Kamehameha originally had the right to the throne, however, due to Alapai, he couldn’t claim his throne at the risk of death.

European Contact

After some years, ‘white men’ showed up to their island. The year was 1779, and the captain of the ships, or “floating heiaus” was none other than Captain Cook, the famed explorer. He quickly engaged in trade with the people, trading things like yams and puaa (pigs) for iron scraps, which the ‘Indians’ as Cook called them, valued. He took note of the helmets certain individuals wore, which were extremely similar to those the Spanish conquistadors wore (in fact, eons ago, the Spanish had visited Hawaii, and when they mapped it, gave the correct latitude, but erroneous longitude) but the Hawaiians wore helmets with long feather plumes and instead of being made of iron, they were composed of woven plant materials.
Unfortunately for Cook, the Hawaiians valued the iron much more than he had bargained for, and began to swim under his ship and remove nails! To counter this, he had guards posted with birdshot, so as not to kill anybody, but to serve as a warning. Despite it, various thefts occurred, and not too long after Cook left the island, he ran into quite a storm, and his ship was in need of repair. When he returned to the island, and went for repairs, he received more than he bargained for. One of the boats attached to his ship, his ‘cutter’ as it was called, was taken (and later burned for iron) in a daring exploit, and this being the last straw for him, he went ashore, peaceably, but heavily armed. In a massive flurry of activity, he and his marines were attacked by a mob, being beaten, stoned, and stomped to a violent, brutal death. Cook’s men had abandoned his body on the beach. The king, when he learned what happened, was furious. Not only was he disgusted over the theft, but at what happened to Cook, and ordered that his body be returned to his men for a proper burial. However, his remains were scattered, what was left of him was horribly dismembered, each part scattered throughout the island. His men searched, but mostly in vain, having found a single piece of hip. More violence followed.
“Captain Clerke and the captain came through with a quick decision: He ordered the ship’s guns to give the natives a good dose of what-for. He also told the crew something they had been dying to hear. Clerke was planning to send a party ashore to replenish the water casks as if nothing untoward were happening… In a short time the big guns were loaded, but the hustle and bustle of the preparations to fire, the scurrying around, the trundling of the bags of gunpowder and the cannonballs and the commands were sufficient to alert the villagers near the coast. They accordingly took shelter behind walls and rock features. But even so, the gunners did well enough with their targets of opportunity- which were any large groups of people. The guns thundered. The gunners saw the cannonballs smashing into the soft houses and sending them down in showers of thatch and splintered bamboo.”(125,126 Tregaskis)
This attack killed several Alii and severely injured Kamehameha. Yet, Kamehameha survived, and after a couple other minor skirmishes, he managed to once again be at peace with the English, and bid them farewell.

Law of the Splintered Paddle

The Law of the Splintered Paddle (or chewed-up paddle), or Mamalahoe, was created by Kamehameha after his foot was about to attack some fisherman for their large catch, but got his foot caught in a rock, and he was struck in the head with a paddle by fishermen fearing for their lives, and the life of a child. They struck him so hard that the paddle broke. He was saved by some of his men in a canoe, but Kamehameha remembered the lesson he learned that fateful day. Thus, Kamehameha thus instituted mamalahoe, or the “Law of the Splintered Paddle. It states: "Let every elderly person, woman and child lie by the roadside in safety".
Thus, he protected those not involved in combat. A version of Mamalahoe was added to the state constitution of Hawaii in  HYPERLINK "http://www.hawaiihistory.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=ig.page&year=1978" 1978.
Mamalahoe has also served as a model for the protection of noncombatants the world over, likely saving countless innocent lives.

Later Life
For Kamehameha, this was only the beginning of a long, long road. He did much fighting, and he took advantage of European firearms, using guns, and canons. He blazed a trail through the various islands of Hawaii, earning the title “The Warrior King”, and remained faithful to Mamalahoe.
“Now that the flame of war was finished with its scorching path in Maui, Hawaii, Oahu, Lanai and Molokai, he encouraged the farmers toward record crops. One great assist he game was to proclaim the Law of the Splintered Paddle as an inviolable statute. This provided that no soldier or group of soldiers could appropriate anything from any farmer or other civilian without proper governmental authority.”(275 Tregaskis)
After accomplishing much conquest, he used Lahaina, in Honolulu as a trade center with the British, receiving the usual firearms, and in 1802, he received a powerful new ally.
The British gave him “long-eared and oversized dogs”, or horses, and in 1803, prepared to invade Kauai. Unfortunately, his men were hit with a terrible, fatal plague. Mai okuu, meaning it comes with squatting, was referring to the diarrhea that it begins with, and it probably came in from traders. With the exception of William Pitt, it killed all his primary counselors, and half of Oahu was wiped out.
In 1804 the plague loosened its grip on the kingdom, and life could resume as normal. The sandalwood trade began thriving and in 1816, the trade was about $400,000 annually.
A year prior, however, Somebody attempted to take away that all away. Anton Schäffer arrived November of 1815, and claimed to be a representative of the Russian government, a doctor, and naturalist. He was there to recover a ship that was lost on a reef, off the coast of Kauai. Upon reaching Kauai, he came across Kaumu-alii, who was still intent upon usurping Kamehameha! Schäffer, unfortunately, was an “opportunistic feeder”, and he made a pact with Kaumu-alii- one to overthrow Kamehameha with the aid of the Russian government, giving Kaumu-alii the throne, and Russia half of Oahu and the entire sandalwood market.
The English likely realized his ploy, and disgusted, spurred the people to destroy any structures he built, yet Schäffer didn’t leave. He attempted to get the backing of the Russian government, and he even built fortifications. But assistance never came, and in 1816, Otto von Kotzubue arrived at Kailua, and informed Kamehameha (already well aware of this grandiose, ambitious plan) that the Russian government was opposed to Schäffer’s idea, and Kamehameha banished both conspirators, Schäffer and Kaumu-alii.
On May 7th, 1819, Kamehameha fell ill, and at midnight, he was carried to the eating house, where his breathing worsened, and they rushed him back to his sleeping house, where he slipped out of consciousness, and May 8th, 1918, his breathing stopped forever. The Warrior King of Hawaii, Kamehameha I, had passed away.
But this was by no means the end of a united Hawaii, as Kamehameha wasn’t the only one helping bring about change. One of his wives, Kaahumanu, had begun to fight against the kapus, or rules that were put in place, because some of them were ridiculous, and could put somebody in an early grave, sacrificed for mere accidents. She worked to eliminate one in particular: the kapu stating that women must not eat with men, a kapu that one of her various “husbands” was killed over. She received support from Kamehamehas primary wife, Keopulani, along with much support from the Haoles, those from Europe coming to Hawaii.
In November 1819, Kamehameha II, persuaded by the two queens, publicly violated the eating kapu, shocking his guests, and likely scared them senseless when he declared all kapus null and void. The old kapu system was abolished, which would have likely made Kamehameha I very proud! Thus, Kamehameha I lived on through the actions of his son.

Personal Reflection
From my standpoint, Kamehameha was a great ruler. He protected the lives of the innocent, unified a group of islands into what is now known as Hawaii, and was a great ruler. He truly cared for the well being of his people, and saw to it that not only they were treated properly, but that they treated others properly as well. Thus, he not only enforced laws to letter, but to spirit, or the very principle of a law, which can be a much more powerful force. By creating a way of thinking, you create a way of living. Kamehameha did just that. I am quite sorry for him in that his childhood didn’t quite work out as he had planned, yet, despite the difficulties, he grew into a wise, benevolent king. I think that if more leaders followed the example set by Kamehameha, the world would be a better place.
I think that his passions truly drove him forward, and unfortunately, led him sometimes in the wrong direction. He likely understood the problems created by the system of the kapus, having suffered firsthand because of them. But, he had to uphold them, because he was blinded into thinking it would help Hawaii.
But his passions, though sometimes misguided, helped him still. Had not been impatient with those fisherman, he would have never conceptualized Mamalahoe, which could have cost many innocent lives simply brushed aside as casualties of war. Through combat, he conquered and unified the islands of Hawaii, which might have been impossible if he wasn’t so passionate. While the war cost quite a few people their lives, it likely protected thousands more from oppression at the hands of the Europeans and Americans, and made for much simpler diplomacy, creating a strong, independent, and much more respectable nation.

Bibliography
Tregaskis, Richard. The Warrior King Hawaii’s Kamehameha the Great. New York, N.Y., Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1973.

Kamakau, Samuel Manaiakalani. Ruling Chiefs of Hawaii. Honolulu H.I., Kamehameha Schools Press, 1962

http://www.hawaiihistory.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=ig.page&PageID=398 Kamehameha I – Hawaii History – Monarchs

http://www.americaslibrary.gov/cgi-bin/page.cgi/aa/kamehameh
King Kamehameha – America’s Library

http://www.biographybase.com/biography/Kamehameha_I_of_Hawaii.html Kamehameha I of Hawaii – Biography Base

http://www.themediadrome.com/content/articles/history_articles/kamehameha.htm
The Mediadrome – History – King Kamehameha

http://www.coffeetimes.com/jun98.htm
The Northern Kohala Coast – Tied to the Past

Leviathan

Leviathan, by Scott Westerfield

For quite a long time, I've loved steampunk. The artistry, the aura, everything about a past that might have (though likely ought not!) have been as a concept I much enjoy. I find it simply satisfying, fascinating, intriguing... My love for steampunk goes far back.
Not too long ago I came across the novel Leviathan, by Westerfield. It's what I would consider a (as you likely guessed) top-notch steampunk novel, and though it was written for a youn ger spectrum of readers/steampunk fanatics, itis nonetheless quite engaging despite (or, possibly on account of) its simplicity.
Set in an alternate WWI, it follows Deryn Sharp of Englad, a girl who couldn't be held to earth (in more ways than one) and Alek Ferdinand, son the famous Archduke, who finds himself to be an invaluable pawn in a complex, hazard ridden game of political chess. As one might guess, the two eventually meet (but in the interests of not spoiling the story I shall not explain exactly how), though initially, their relationship can't exactly be describebd as healthy.
In the world once seen by Westerfield, WWI has a much scarier spin; Charles Darwin of many years prior was not only an explorer, but a genetic egineer, the first person to study and modify DNA.
Years later the British are using his techniques to not only modify the traits of organisms, but also to customize them to their whims (slaughter!) and even create ecosystems, though I'd hate to give awway too much about theme. They refer to their beasts as "Fabs" short for fabricated.
They are know as the Darwinists, and their beasts strike fear into the hearts of their new enemies, the Clankers.
The Clankers are Germany, Austria-Hungary, etc., and are named on account of their gigantic machines. Bypassing treads (how boring and historically accurate!), the war machines of the Clankers are gigant things known as "Walkers" (although I think of them as 'mechs' instead) and as their name would imply, these are legged machines, that plod hill and dale belching banks of thick, black smoke. Outfitted for war with guns and cannons, they would truly be a terrifying sight to behold!
In all, Westerfield brilliantly wrote this book. Though I do believe it needed to be somewhat less predictable (and I'll be brutally honest- while Deryn didn't seem at all a terrible character- I rather liked her- she seemed a little cliched, the 'tough girl being a guy' stereotype), I enjoy how he keeps the book third person while sort of swapping viewpoints and personality. In the book are several excellent illustrations by Keith Thompson, who astoundingly illustrated a world crafted by Westerfield, truly bringing it to life in the most magnificent fashion possible.
In all, it's a rather good read that I can recommend, particularly if you enjoy steampunk, alternate histories, sci-fi, or adventure novels.
I rather enjoy all four.

Well, I've been tagged by a certain Zella, and now, I must tell six insane truths and a crazy lie, or or six extreme lies a single, mind-blowing truth.
I'll have them soon!

http://grammaticallymotivated.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-am-bald-faced-liar-and-so-are-you.html

Sammich Machine

My local library held a mystery contest. Below is my entry. Enjoy!

Sammich Machine

by Jourdan Cameron

It was a strange morning, to say the least. I remember getting out of bed with the knowledge that something odd was bound to happen. I suppose that's normal for me, taking into consideration who I'd be meeting later on.

My name is Jack Charlotte; my best friend is Marcella Cervant. We were drawn to each other by our mutual interest in aviation, but don't let that fool you. We are radically different people. I wouldn't know how to begin a comparison. Starting at the level of fruit, perhaps, to consider ourselves as, I suppose I'd choose the pear while Marcela takes the 4-door sedan. I suppose that there really isn't anyone similar to Marcella at all. She's one of the few crazy, yet sane, tame, reserved, bold, daring people you may ever have the pleasure to meet, and seems to have this strange fondness for information; any and every topic you can think about she's likely read a book on. From atomic weapons to neuroplasticity to Zoroastrianism, she likely has some interesting, fascinating tidbit. That morning, she showed up to my door about as unusually as she usually does. "Greetings" she said. What she was wearing, that morning was, well... Not worth the effort to explain, really.

"Morning, Mar" I replied groggily. I was still a little out of it. We were sitting in the dining room.

"Hey, good morning Mar!" My dad came in, with about the usual level of enthusiasm. Was I the only non-morning person?

"Hello Mr. Charlotte" Mar replied.

"Care for some fried eggs?" he asked.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline. I voraciously consumed three blanched." My dad looked a little puzzled.

"She had three boiled eggs, Dad." "Oh, right, of course. Well it's great to see you." "Likewise."

There's also the matter of her unusual dialect, but I'm not going there.

"Bye, Dad" I said. "We're heading for the library." "Alright, see you later."

If there was one thing I absolutely loved about my home, it was being walking distance from just about everything. Library, general store (I can't believe my town still has one, either) florist, all no more than ten minutes away.

"So" Mar started "Can you wait to  meet him?" She asked beaming.

"I sure can't, Mar." I replied. She was very enthusiastic this morning. One of her favorite authors (whose name evades me) was at the library to talk about his latest book on gladiatorial combat.

"So what do you think he'll start on?" she thought aloud as we approached the library.

"He'll probably start with..." The words in my mouth dissolved  as the library came into focus.

"Mar, I-" She'd already run into the middle of things.

The building wasn't quite as we had left it a week before. No, there were definite changes to the exterior, namely the headless flowers, shattered windows, and most noticeable, a brand new coat of green paint applied to the front of the building.

Written in blocky, drooling black letters was "Sammich Machine".

She was conversing with a police officer about what might have happened.

"Way I see it" said the officer "was some kid, looking for trouble. If I find 'im, I'll make sure he has it! Now you kids keep your eyes open!" I assured him we'd inform him of anything suspicious. "Remember, see something-"

"-Say something!" Mar finished.

After the commotion had cleared, we came inside the library. Ms. Stoate, one of the librarians, was chatting with a reporter from The Prism, our local newspaper.

"Looks like some gladiators already came through here" I said to Ms. Stoate.

A bearded man with black hair walks into the library. A woman follows closely behind. Both are wearing sharp formal clothes. Ms. Stoat walked up to them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Knoll, how lovely to meet you!" "The pleasure is all mine" said the bearded man. Marcella introduced herself to the couple, and I followed suit.

The woman stretched. "I was in such a rush this morning, and now look what happened! Maybe it's a sign." The man giggled a little. "Yeah, but we had no hot water this morning! Now that was a kicker!" the man laughed. I was glad to see somebody was still able. "Such a pity about what happened to the library" said the woman.

"Do you mean to cancel?" Marcella asked. Her voice faltered a bit.

"Goodness, no!" Mr. Knoll belted. "Although" started his wife "maybe rescheduling is in order?"

Mr. Knoll laughed a little. "Let's not something stupid as little graffiti get us down!"

"Whooaah, Dad!" A teenager appeared, almost out of nowhere behind Mr. Knoll.

"Everybody, I'd like you to meet my son" said Mrs. Knoll. "Dorian".

Dorian was about fourteen, with straight black hair that covered both eyes. He was wearing beaten looking faded jeans, a grey hoodie, and white sneakers splattered with black.

"Honey" said Mr. Knoll "Could you fetch the sword from the car? Thanks." Mrs. Knoll dashed off for the weapon. "Well I suppose we should get started." said Mrs. Stoate. "I'll move some of the things from the foyer, and Mar? Could you take care of..." My mind drifted away, outside the library. Why did somebody, why would somebody give this poor building such a beating? Perhaps there was some meaning to the graffiti. Sammich Machine. What's a Sammich Machine? I walked outside for some air (even though it was already streaming in through shattered windows) and found Mrs. Knoll struggling with a long box. I dashed over and asked if she'd like some help, which she promptly accepted. The thing was immensely heavy, and I really do wonder how she managed it into the car in the first place. We put it down to take a breather right outside the library door.

"You know" she started, gasping "I'm not sure why he wants this one." "Isn't this what the gladiators used?" I asked. "No. This is a Scottish broadsword." "Well that is pretty odd!" We leaned on the wall a couple minutes more. "So you met my son, Dorian?" "Oh yes, he seems like a very nice boy." "Thanks" she sighed. "I just wish..." her voice faded off. She was just gazing into the distance. "Wish what?" I asked, bringing her back. "Wished that Dorian had more time with his father" she choked out. "They're barely ever together, and I'm worried about him. I don't want him going down... The wrong path." "I understand" I replied. Lately I've seen lots of kids raising themselves. The results are seldom pretty.

"Well" she said "I suppose we should get this thing in" she yawned.

Upon re-entering the library, something felt different. The atmosphere was thick with tension. Mr. Knoll was being introduced by Dorian to a teen about three years his senior. Mr. Knoll's "Pleasure to meet you" felt strained and irate.

This teen was taller than Dorian by about a head, and had dark brown hair covering one of his eyes. "Nice to meet you too" he said. His voice was low, almost gravelly. He dressed similarly to Dorian. On his sneakers were the same black marks.

"Dorian" he said "I'm checking out a copy of Gladiator." Behind his hair, Dorian's eyes flicked to life. "I'm coming with you!" The teen smiled a smug smile and the two headed towards the DVD section of the library. The threads of tension strangulating conversation slowly vanished as the two left the room, though now Mr. Knoll seemed somewhat scared. He sat down and put his forehead in his hand. That seemed to communicate everything he was thinking. Mar went over to comfort him. "Mr. Knoll-" she began when he said, with a sniffle "Don't, please. Thank you but I know just where he's going. He'll find his path, at least... I hope." Mr. Knoll let out a big sigh and continued. "But" he said firmly "I mustn't interfere." The man was now looking off into the distance (as far as he could, anyhow) as if he were being photographed for some sort of film poster. He erred, however, in that by failing to keep his eyes on a steadily reddening Marcella. I hate seeing her so furious, but it's really a sight to behold. "Knoll" she growled. I decided to head over to the DVD section, seeing as things were about to get ugly. On my way out of the back room I saw Mrs. Knoll asleep on a chair. I had the feeling she was in for a particularly rude awakening.

"So will you do it?" was the first thing I overheard. I behind the shelves standing opposite Dorian and his friend. "I'm not sure" Dorian replied. "I have some doubts and... Fears." "C'mon." the older kid came back with. "What's the worst scenario, honestly? You pull it off, and poof" he signed. "You're free." 'When you put it that way, than I suppose there's really a point." He grabbed the other kids hand. and hugged hum. "Thanks, man." "Good choice, dude" he said in his gravelly voice. The front door opened and in came the same police officer from earlier.

"Hello again, sir" I said. "Hey there" he replied. "So have there been any big discoveries in the case?" "Not at all, young man, nothing at all." He sighed. "I just wish I could get this over with. Would you happen to have any sort of information?" I thought for a second, and looked down at my shoes, as I usually would. "Sir?" I said. "Please follow me, quietly." I led him to the shelves near the DVDs. "Look" I half whispered "At their shoes." He dashed around the corner to face them. "Hey, you two!" he barked. "Have you seen the outside of the library? Do you think vandalism is funny? Do you?" The two boys wore odd looks, unsure of if they ought laugh or appear frightened. "Well I don't!" The officer was extending some of his words for emphasis that only made him seem all the more comical, but somehow frightening nonetheless. "You're coming with me!" he said, and with one swift move he had turned around and handcuffed the older boy. Dorian appeared shocked. "What did we do?" he asked. The officer snorted. "Look at your shoes" he said pompously. "You think we vandalized the library?" the older boy asked. "What's going on here?!" came a stern voice from behind. Mr. Knoll was behind the officer. "These punks tried to destroy our library!" "Hey!" Mr. Knoll snapped "That's my son you're talking about! He'd never do anything like that!" "Well explain his shoes." "He's, em..." Mr. Knoll began fumbling over words. "He's very artistic!" "Of course! It all makes total sense!' the officer replied sardonically. "Well now he can express himself and clean up the mess, thank you for your input sir!" The police officer was really starting to get on Mr. Knoll's nerves. "Well" said the officer in a less mocking tone "Perhaps we don't have to take this so far, hmm? Courts are so tough on kids." He almost sounded sympathetic. "Perhaps simple repayment for the damages is in order." Mr. Knoll seemed to relax. "Perhaps you're right, officer. But-" Mr. Knoll came back around, realizing what the officer was trying. He clenched his teeth as a vein in his head became so visible, one could see it twitching. My son" he roared "is innocent, unless you can prove him otherwise!" "Well he's under arrest" came back the officer "until you have better alibis."

Knoll's yelling evidently reached the ends of the library, as now all eyes were on that small group. I looked up at the faces staring. I looked back down as I saw which one was approaching.

"What's going on?" Marcella asked. "These punks" said the officer "vandalized our library. And this fellow" said the officer, pointing towards a panting Mr. Knoll "disagrees."

"We're innocent!" the older boy burst out. I looked up at Marcella. I could tell what she was thinking. I was about to pull her aside to say 'Marcella, don't get involved, you know what happens when', but, as fate would have it, my nerves failed to respond in time.

"He's telling the truth" she said. "What? replied the officer. "How could you possibly tell?" She looked up at the handcuffed boys (the officer didn't waste his time just talking, evidently, and made sure Dorian was bound as well) and back to the officer. "They didn't do it." The officer harrumphed. "Than who would?" "Somebody else, but not them." The officer was about to drag the two off when it seemed that some Marcella told him just clicked. "You know what? I'll give them a chance to a fair trial." he said. "But they have half an hour to prove themselves innocent. If they fail to do that, they're coming with me. Downtown". he removed the handcuffs and said he couldn't wait to 'see them later'. Dorian shuddered a little at that. "Where's my wife?" asked Knoll after the officer left. "I think she's asleep in the-" "Still sleeping? Ugh, why isn't she doing something?" He muttered off to the back room to himself.

Marcella asked how the officer came to arresting the two of them. I explained the whole thing with the sneakers. She sighed, as if tired of my antics. When would I learn? "Mar" I took her aside "We have a problem. How will we prove those two innocent? I even" I paused "think they did it" I said in whisper. Marcella inhaled to sigh, then simply told me to follow her. We wound up going back to the back room of the library where Mr. Knoll was. Mrs. Knoll was still asleep in the chair. "There's your perp" said Mar quietly. "That's insane!" I whispered harshly. How could it be Mrs. Knoll?

"Well" said Mar "wouldn't that sabotage the presentation?" Mar could tell by my reaction that I wasn't getting anything out of this. "Look" she said "When I talked to her husband, he totally came down. Like an elephant standing on a house of cards. He explained that his wife kept nagging him about his kid, as if she didn't want to deal with him." I still couldn't see where she was taking this. "She said she was in a rush this morning. Perhaps it's because she went to bed late- very late, maybe?" "Mar, this is lunacy!" She gave me a look and I shut up. Regular logic was not at work here. "It's also obvious" she said "that she's sick of him, or at least his behaviour. He's made her a lackey, can't you see? Grab this, get me that, she hates it! That's all she is to him!" I realized that there was a good- insane, but good- chance that she was right. "Alright" I said. "Where do we take this?" Mar smiled. "We take it home."

We approached Dorian and asked him if he could take us to his house. He gladly co-operated and began taking us out of the library when we were interrupted. "Where do you punks think you're headed?" The officer from earlier was leaning against the library wall. "To get our evidence!" snapped Mar.

"Well" replied the officer in mock shock "just excuse me! Enjoy your twenty minutes." Dorian led us to his house. It was five minutes away from my own. "Hang on" he said, shoving a hand into his pocket. "I don't have my key!" "Well this is potentially troublesome." "Wait" he said with a flick of hope as we got nearer the door "there's a spare under the rug!" Without thinking I dashed to the welcome mat and felt the key. As I pulled it out, I also felt something crawling on my hand. It was a large, irritated centipede. As I recoiled in terror, the key flew from my hand into an unfortunately neglected, overgrown lawn. and I fell over backwards onto a potted plant. "Well this is just brilliant!" yelled Dorian, stomping. He was really quite infuriated now, and ran up to his house, and kicked the door frame so hard the shutters shuddered. I looked at Mar as if to say 'I told you so', but she was looking at something else, transfixed on some item that lay beside me in the grass. "Jack" she said, as if I'd uncovered a lost empire. "Jack, you did it!" Before I could ask what i did, Mar had grabbed the item and was dashing for the library. I pursued her with Dorian following close behind. I caught up to her at the intersection. She always seemed to halt whenever she came to them. 'what" I asked, gasping "have I done?" "You've solved the case, Jack!" "I did? Care to show me how?" "Alright" she said, before dashing off again. I had to chase her, again, all the way back to the library. Dorian was on the verge of collapse. We found the officer where we left him.

"Right on time" he said. "Care to explain how this kid's innocent, or should I pull my handcuffs out?" "Pull them out" said Mar. "I know the real perp, and it's not this kid, or the other." Mar had the officer follow her into the library, and told him to wait, listening, at the back room.

"Mrs. Knoll!" She awoke the woman and explained the situation. The old situation. "So my son vandalized the library? Ohh..." She put her hand to her forehead in the most melodramatic way possible, and exclaimed loudly "If only he had more attention!" "Well ma'am, if only" said Mar coldly. "But he's going to have fix this. And you're going to have to pay hefty fines on his behalf." Mar seemed like an authority in this area. She also seemed quite statuesque and imposing, despite Mrs. Knoll having a good head and a half on her. "He may even spend some time in a detention center." The woman shifted uncomfortably, and bit her lip. Mar stood up and headed for the door.

"Wait" said the woman. Mar smiled slyly for a fraction of a second and whirled to face Mrs. Knoll.

"Yes?" "I have a confession to make. My son isn't responsible for the vandalism. It was-" "I'm aware of who it was, Mrs. Knoll." "You know I did it?" "Yes. Now would you care to inform the police?" With that, the officer stepped into the room.

"Thank you, young lady" he said "But there's a problem. How do we know she isn't covering up for her son?" At that, I stepped into the room with the bag Marcella had me hold earlier. It was a transparent plastic bag, and inside were clearly sweat-clothes. Stained with black. "I think this is evidence enough."

"Circumstantial, young lady," said the officer. "Anybody can put black paint on sweat-clothes. Where did you get those?" "Directly outside the door of the accused, sir." "In that case, I think we have... A case!" The officer laughed to himself. "Just one question for you, Mrs. Knoll." She looked up at him. "Why did I write 'Sammich Machine, right?" He nodded. "It's because that's how I feel, and I-" "You wanted to express yourself" the officer mocked. "Well you have. Now you'll be cleaning machine. Please come with me, to my care. You're coming-" "Down-Town, I know." the woman mocked back, rolling her eyes.

Mr. Knoll decided to reschedule the event that day. On my way out, I saw him holding Dorian's shoulder. I couldn't help smiling. Maybe they'd be brought closer together thanks to this trial. Whatever the case, though, something inside me suddenly churned. As I came out, mulling the possibility of mistrial, I heard a gravelly "Hey you". I turned and saw the older kid. He walked up to me and shook my hand, thanking me for the help. He turned and then spoke to Dorian. "So are you ready?" he asked. I suddenly remembered why I was suspicious in the first place. My nerves reacted too slowly, however, as Mr. Knoll was the first to ask 'for what?'. "For Linux" said the older kid. "Is that some sort of drug?" asked Mr. Knoll, aghast. The older kid looked into his eyes very, very intently, and severely, before he burst out laughing.

"No, sir.It's an operating system." "A what?" "Dad!" piped Dorian "For our computer! This is an upgrade, Dad." "Oh" replied Mr. Knoll. "Carry on, then."

I found Mar at my home. She left the library roughly two minutes before I did, yet how she managed to be settled on my couch explaining just what occurred that day to my parents is far beyond my understanding. She had me sit down and left me to fill in a couple blanks she had missed out on.

In all, I'm grateful she dragged me into this. That night, as I went to bed, I tried thinking of what Mar had in store for me tomorrow. I found myself too exhausted, however, to attempt.

 

 Here are the winners of that contest:

http://nmplteenblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/winners-announced-mystery-mania-writing.html

A big congratulations to all who won!