Short Fiction

OK, this is pretty macabre stuff, but … Larkin’s 6-word stories reminded me that I’ve written a few very short stories, myself. Not 6-words, but … short. They are, if you like, companion pieces to my novel An Agreement with Hell, which is set in California Hills University. I pulled them out of the now-Word-incompatible archives, blew the dust off of them, tweaked a word here and there and ….

… brace yourself. Here we go:

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California Hills University: FRESHMAN ORIENTATION

Katie Ericksson sighed as the small freshman class marched to the spirit rock overlooking campus.

She’d arrived two days ago, and she already knew she was never going to fit in. California Hills University was attached to the same synod she’d attended in Wisconsin, but Southern Californians were very different from Midwesterners. Katie felt like a stranger. She’d called home, crying from homesickness, but her parents had insisted she give the place a chance.

Coarse grass crunched underfoot and the dusy scents of sage and pinon filled the air. Stars glittered overhead. Katie knew she should be filled with awe at the ritual, but she just felt miserably out of place and alone.

When they reached the summit, they circled the boulder. Forty students were in the freshman class; Cal Hill’s small size was one of the reasons Katie had chosen it. Now she studied the spirit rock to avoid looking at her peers. The boulder was covered with faded, peeling paint from last year’s class. Student government officers in matching ASCHU t-shirts waited next to the rock, paintbrushes and cans at their feet.

“Each year the freshman class of California Hills University convenes here at midnight on the first day of classes to raise the school spirit,” intoned the student body president, stepping forward. “By painting this rock we make our mark on the university, a mark that will remain no matter how many more come after us, no matter where we go after graduation.”

The officers began handing out paintbrushes.

“Each year one freshman is elected by his or her peers to represent the class at this event. This year, Katie Ericksson has been selected for the honor.” The student body president turned to Katie and smiled. “Katie, come forward.”

Katie looked around, wide-eyed. Her roommates gave her wide smiles and encouraging nods, and the other freshmen all beamed at her.

“But, but nobody knows me,” she stammered.

“At a university this small, we all know each other.” The president reached out and clasped her hand, leading her to the rock. “Katie, school spirit is important at Cal Hills. Your classmates know you’ve been homesick, and they want to assure you that you have a place in their hearts.”

Katie smiled shyly as she sat down.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The ASCHU officers pried open the paint cans. One can, clean and empty, was passed forward and placed next to her.

“As the representative of this year’s freshman class, you embody its heart and soul,” the ASCHU president intoned, taking the long knife one of her fellow officers was holding. California Hills University was engraved in gold script along its blade. “Tonight, Katie, you become part of Cal Hills forever.”

Her peers applauded as Katie proudly lifted her chin.

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California Hills University: SPIRIT STICK

Every year some prankster always decides to steal California Hills University’s spirit stick.

“So, this is what all the dorms are competing for?” Greg cast a scornful look at the five-foot pole, covered with bands of hard, cracked rawhide. “What a crock.”

The leather spun away from the stick like tentacles.  Greg didn’t have time to scream before he became the newest layer.

The Student Life representative who finally found the spirit stick put it back into its glass display case with a resigned shake of her head. What could you do? All the students had been warned in Orientation that CHU valued a strong school spirit.

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California Hills University: CAPITAL CAMPAIGN

Vice President of Marketing Reginald Onesvald leaned forward. Arne Thorvald had been a significant donor to California Hills University for over twenty years.  He’d been awarded an honorary doctorate five years ago, when his health had begun to fade.  Now Thorvald was on his deathbed, and Onesvald had one last offer.

“How many have signed up for this campaign?” Thorvald asked, sounding uncertain.

“We already have twenty donors from your class, sir, and more are coming in. Next year we’ll open the Patron-in-Residence program to the rest of Cal Hill’s alumni, but your class, the very first in our school’s history, holds a special place of honor in our hearts.”

Thorvald smiled weakly.  “Where would I be?”

“Sir, in recognition of your many contributions over the years, we’ll put your marker right in front of the theater door, where everyone will see it every time they attend one of the student productions your endowments have made possible.”  Onesvald pulled out glossy photographs.  “As you can see, we offer three different marker shapes, all bearing the university seal.  In addition to your name and the relevant dates, you can include a personalized message of up to 10 words.”

Thorvald nodded, and Onesvald quickly slid the papework beneath his hand.

“What about the interment?” Thorvald asked, picking up a pen.

“The university has made special arrangements with the county to offer three options to prospective patrons-in-residence.  The first is the classic vault option, interring you in the university walls.  The second is what we call the alma mater option, using a biodegradable casket to make you part of our award-winning landscape. The third option is cremation, with a wider range of residence options.”

“Classic vault is fine.”  Thorvald began checking boxes, his hand trembling slightly from illness.  Onesvald looked over his shoulder. The university’s capital campaign had just reached its $40 million mark. He beamed.

“Thank you, sir. You will never regret becoming an eternal patron of California Hills University.”

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