Moments of Magic by Ryan Malone

Echoes 2011
The Independent School 8017 E. Douglas Wichita, KS 67207 316.686.0152 www.theindependentschool.com i

Echoes Staff
FACULTY: EDITOR: ART STAFF: Amanda Evans Macy Amsden Jordan McEntaffer, Editor Ian Gebhart Chhaya Patel Leila Youssef, Editor Macy Amsden Priya Gangadhar

ESSAY STAFF: SHORT STORY STAFF: WEBMASTER:

Baylee Ladner, Editor Taylor Kolbeck Danielle Allen, Editor Caroline Lincoln Will Hukle

POETRY STAFF:

Awards and Recognition

ART: First Place: Kate Moss by Rachel Manning Runner-up: American Muscle by Glenn Cox Cover Art: Moments of Magic by Ryan Malone First Place: Save as God by Jessica Fisher Runner-up: A Force to Be Reckoned With by Jennifer Steere First Place: Petals by Allison Griffin Runner-up: Low Blows by Macy Amsden First Place: Devil Door by Danielle Allen Runner-up: Time to Go by Jennifer Steere Mrs. Cole-Art Ms. Patino-Poetry, Translations & Lyrics Mr. Huggins-Short Stories Mr. Cissell-Essays

ESSAYS: POETRY: SHORT STORIES: JUDGES:

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Neon Eye Dreams by Glenn Cox iii

Table of Contents
Short Stories:
A Force to be Reckoned With by Jennifer Steere.1 Time to Go by Jennifer Steere. ....5,6 Devil Door by Danielle Allen....18,19 Youd Think by Taylor Kolbeck.....22 Quarterback Sneak by Nicole Fox...... 24, 25 Scooter by Danielle Allen....33, 34

Essays:
Honor: More Than a Virtue by Casey Kolbeck. .....3, 4 Niccolo di Bernardo dei Machiavelli: Philosopher, Writer, and Prince by Casey Kolbeck ...12,13 Save As God by Jessica Fisher...15

Poetry & Translations:

All That I Know by Sam McCoy......2 Ode De Cassandre Translated by Taylor Kolbeck........8 Mirror, Mirror on the Wall by Jessica Fisher. ......9 She Walks in Beauty/She Runs Through Darkness by Amy Yeskie................................9 Just A Little Bit More by Macy Amsden ...11 What Is Done Is Done by Adam Pierson....17 Low Blows by Macy Amsden.....23 Fueled by Ignorance by Christine Roberts.....23 I Want to Sleep with You by Jackie Ross...28 Her Eyes by Sam McCoy.. 28 In My Cup of Coffee by Jessica Fisher. .29 Sweet Moon Beams by Jennifer Steere..........29 Cue the Rain by Sam McCoy.. ..31 Petals by Allison Griffin . ..35
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Table of Contents
Art:
Moments of Magic by Ryan Malone.. .....i Neon Eye Dreams by Glenn Cox.. ... iii Rapunzel by Rachel Manning.. ...2 Abandoned by Sam Carter.. 4 Last Flight by Emma Faus ..6 Bright Shadows by Glenn Cox .......... 7 Kate Moss by Rachel Manning.10 Bottled Up by Julianne Fisher...11 Reflections by Glenn Cox..13 Enigmatic by MacKenzie Cole..14 Beaming by MacKenzie Cole14 Connection by Christian Brown16 Contained Excitement by Mackenzie Cole ..17 Shapeless by Urvashi Patel....19 Web of Leaves by Julianne Fisher......21 Classic Beauty by Rachel Manning...27 The Looking Glass by Sam Carter..30 American Muscle by Glenn Cox32 Purple Bouquet by Cassie Heflin. .36

Lyrics:
White and Blue by Christian Porter...20

A Force to Be Reckoned With by Jennifer Steere This is what freedom feels like. This happiness, this detachment, this is what Im living for. I can feel the drops falling, slowly now, just brushing my skin with a gentle coolness that makes my flesh rise in tender bumps. But I can hear it, the roar of thunder announcing the coming of something greater, something far beyond my own power. Its this, the anticipation of something wonderful that is more satisfying than the thing itself. In this moment of waiting and yearning before the storm, I feel alive, more alive than Ive felt in a long time. All of the sudden its here and upon me. I lift my face to the sky and accept the fast falling drops. They hit my skin and make tracks all over my body, turning me into their own creation. Im drenched. My clothes cling to my body and my hair is plastered to my face. This is the way I like it. I am part of the storm. No longer intruding on this magnificence, but rather included in it. Insanity is what my mother calls this, running out into the rain in the dead of night like a fool. The neighbors look out their windows and point at that silly girl who is bound to catch a cold. But Ive long since taken offense at their words and their stares. Its pity I feel for them, hiding inside missing this brilliance. They dont know how it feels to be completely absorbed by something you cant control. The initial fear, the letting go, the losing yourself, the exhilaration is what makes the storm exceptional. Inside its easy to ignore, to forget how much power there is in a thunderstorm. But out here the storm is all there is. It takes over everything. Clouds block the stars and the moon. The rain keeps the vehicles off the road. Animals burrow away hiding from cold drops and earth shaking thunder. In the midst of the commotion, there is an unnatural stillness. I can hear my self begin to laugh as I spin around and around. Face lifted to the sky, arms extended to my sides, no sounds to be heard but the rain on pavement and the roar of thunder, this is bliss. Nothing can conquer a storm. Its natures message to the world that it will not bow down. We cut down trees, we throw old plastic into our oceans, but we cannot destroy it, never really. We cannot prevent the thunder, the rain, or the lightening. A storm will not be conquered. That is what I am a part of tonight, an unconquerable force that brings beauty with its destruction.

All That I Know by Sam McCoy Teach me the ways of the world. I want to learn how the bird calls, And the jail dog sings. I want to know the feeling of a broken heart, I want to lose the game, Let me mourn. Teach me to love. Teach me to care, Teach me to push the hair behind her ear. Teach me to fear, To embrace anxiety, To reject seclusion, To regret playing it safe, Teach me to worry, And fret the norm. Teach me to enjoy, Every decadence or inclination, Teach me the feeling of excitement. I want to know the touch of a friend, Or the thoughts of doubt. Teach me to question All that feels right. Teach me to teach you All that I know.

Rapunzel by Rachel Manning

Honor: More Than a Virtue by Casey Kolbeck According to the American Heritage dictionary, honor is, esteem; respect; reverence. One could accept the simple dictionary definition as an easy way out. However, overlooking honor as just a simple one-word definition is an ignorant error that most humans make. Therefore, one may ask the question, What is honor? Honor seems to be part of everyday life throughout the world, even though mankind looks at it with a very simple definition of a human virtue. Is honor present during the award ceremony or funeral of a fellow countryman or soldier? Is honor present in modern and ancient cultures? Why and how does honor affect us as human beings? The answers can only be discovered through further analysis of common and frequent appearances throughout life. Honor is not just a mark of such esteem or as a reward for services or merit, as explained by The Encyclopedia Britannica, but is a virtue that has greatly evolved in meaning and appearance over the course of time. Most noticeably in history, as well as modern day life, the military has shown exemplary amounts of honor. In the early Middle Ages, during the dawn of the knight, chivalry was an important aspect of high society. Chivalry was a code of conduct that all knights were subject to which meant bringing honor to ones family. Not only did it preach honor and nobility, but also the code was said to teach a knight to be fair, equal, proud and polite. Therefore, honor was a central feature of the old European society that was taught as a virtue nobles were to follow. On the other hand, modern day honor has a different meaning when it comes to the military. As of today, being honorable in the army, especially in the United States, means serving your country to promote freedom and liberty. Fighting for ones country is seen as honorable due to the independence and authority brought to the country in addition to the virtues bestowed on the individual, such as courage and valor. The Medal of Valor is presented to soldiers in the US military who perform an act conspicuously by gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his or her life above and beyond the call of duty while engaged in an action against an enemy of the United States (US Department of the Army). Thus honor in the modern sense means fighting for ones own country to be bestowed with virtues of bravery and independence. Honor has not only been present in the military throughout history, but also in certain ancient and modern cultures honor seems to be a virtue valued at great lengths. Ancient and contemporary China has shown commendable amounts of honor. In Chinese culture, the honoring of ones family was an essential feature of society. According to historians, The older members of the family had to be respected. The important decisions were taken by elder ones. In other words, the younger members of the family were not only committed to respecting the elders, but also to performing acts of honor outside the family such as in business, in the military and in every day social life. This tradition still exists in present day China. On the contrary, many other societies, including the United States, do not possess this family honor with as high rates due to the divorce, dissent, and deceit that these modern day cultures experience at high rates. Therefore, honor in some societies can be defined as committing acts of goodness or doing good deeds outside of the family as well as inside, in order to gain respect and reverence. As one could surmise from further analysis, What is honor? may need to be answered in more depth than just a simple word or phrase. The straightforward dictionary definition of honor is esteem and respect and this was supported from the examples of ancient and contempo3

rary Chinese family life. However, in the dictionary itself, there were no concrete examples of honor. Therefore, it makes sense that man would simply overlook the more in-depth definition of this virtue. Not only is honor present within the family, but also the military sections of, in fact, every country that has an armed force. In addition to being esteemed and respected, one who has honor brought upon them can be seen as brave, courageous and bold. Thus, honor can be seen as an extended definition, which contains an endless amount of virtuous features that makes up any given human.

Abandoned by Sam Carter

Time to Go by Jennifer Steere There was nowhere to go, no one to turn to, so she ran. The young beauty was only fifteen, and already this pretty baby had seen more pain than most see in a lifetime. She turned and looked back at the city limits, but there was nothing left for her in that little hometown. A mile out she slowed to a walk and stuck her hands into empty pockets. They were a hollow reminder that she owned nothing. The girl had a plan. She knew where she was going, but there was a place she had to visit first, someone she needed to say goodbye to. In the cover of darkness her feet carried her into the next town. The clock read four AM when she walked into the little old churchher Grandfathers church. Her parents werent religious, but this was the only holy place she had ever known. Her Grandfather had died when she was twelve, and she hadnt been back since. The place haunted her like a familiar place does in the dark. She held her breath as she walked up the crimson carpet to where the pastor usually stood. It was there, under the roof of the church, that she wept. After too many months of holding her secrets inside her heart and pretending to be okay, it felt like a gift to be able to let go. I have to go. I cant stay around here anymore, she spoke to the empty room, Ive been hurt too many times. Everywhere I look is a reminder of the people who hurt me, and the ones who should have been around. Except no one was there when I needed them. I just came to say goodbye. Im not sure youre really here or even care, not with the way you abandoned me. I still think you deserve to know that Im not angry, not anymore. Im just hurt and I cant walk these streets any longer. Maybe tomorrow well be together again, or maybe Ill be walking straight into hell. Either way, just in case, I want to say one more prayer, and so that sweet girl prayed with tears in her eyes. Our Father, If youre really there, Who art in heaven, Or nowhere at all, Hallowed be thy Name. Because I still hope you hear me. Thy kingdom come, Weve been waiting so long. Thy will be done, Did you will this for me? On Earth as it is in Heaven. Are the dead in this much pain? Give us this day our daily bread, Im withering away. And forgive us our trespasses, 5

Forgive me for where Im going, As we forgive those who trespass against us. Like I forgave you for leaving me. And lead us not into temptation, Are you going to let me go? But deliver us from evil. If you love, then please save me, Amen. Goodbye. She turned and left without another word. It was almost dawn outside, but no one was awake. No one would follow her and no one would know. Just a few blocks away she could see her destinationthe cliff above the water. It was clich and she knew it, but she wanted to feel herself fall. Just a few steps away, and she knew it was almost time to go. She took in the sunrise and prepared herself to go over the edge. She closed her eyes; she was ready. She was almost gone, but just before she let herself fall she felt a soft hand enclose hers and she heard someone say, No. It was the softest voice she had ever heard. It was soft, but confident. Did you come to save me after all? She prayed in her head. Is this your way of saving me, or is this a coincidence? Are you still indifferent to me? She turned and looked at the sweet face of a boy no more than five, with the eyes of someone much older. Who are you? she asked the child. My name is Gabriel, he whispered, I was told to come find you.

Last Flight by Emma Faus

Bright Shadows by Glenn Cox

Ode De Cassandre by Pierre de Ronsard Translated by Taylor Kolbeck

Mignonne, allons voir si la rose Qui ce matin avoit dclose Sa robe de pourpre au Soleil, A point perdu cette vespre Les plis de sa robe pourpre, Et son teint au vtre pareil. Las ! voyez comme en peu despace, Mignonne, elle a dessus la place Las ! las ses beauts laiss choir! vraiment martre Nature, Puis quune telle fleur ne dure Que du matin jusques au soir! Donc, si vous me croyez, mignonne, Tandis que votre ge fleuronne En sa plus verte nouveaut, Cueillez, cueillez vtre jeunesse: Comme cette fleur la vieillesse Fera ternir votre beaut.

Sweetheart, let us see if the rose, That this morning had opened Its crimson dress to the sun, Did not lose, this afternoon, The pleats of its crimson dress, And its complexion similar to yours. Alas, see how quickly, Sweetheart, it has right here Alas, alas, let its beauty wilt! O really cruel mother Nature, Since such a flower only lasts From the morning until the night. So, if you believe me sweetheart, While your age is blossoming In the prime of its age, Gather, gather your youth: Like this flower, old age Will tarnish your beauty.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall by Jessica Fisher I see you there, staring at me, capturing my every movement, trying to be me, when in reality you are only a reflection. Mimicking something I want to be; a perfect adjustment. The sad story of life that I long to avoid, is there plainly in front of me, a rejection in my eyes. In you, I see all of my flaws and what I try to hide, every day, each moment. You see my secrets, the ones I try to hide from myself, my one true objection against you. Because of you, I have to use your reflection to be confident. Stop trying to scare me with imperfection.

She Walks in Beauty / She Runs Through Darkness by Amy Yeskie She runs through darkness, eternal night, doomed to run in utter nothingness, longing for one hint of light, only to encounter pain and stress. No Prince Charming or shining knight could end this perpetual darkness. Her clothes are tattered, her hair unkempt. She sees a beacon of light ahead like some token of heaven sent. But alas, the light has fled, leaving her alone in her torment. Lost and confused, she stumbles on through the vast emptiness of time to a place where even shadows dont belong. With no rhyme or reason she carries on.

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Kate Moss by Rachel Manning

Just a Little Bit More by Macy Amsden Like an addict popping pills you cling to him. Losing insight, reeling you in, downing another, wearing you thin. Hiding your shame, easing your pain, needing him, playing his game. Swallowing some more, losing control, grasping for him, his Barbie doll. Paying again, ripping the seal, manipulation, forcing your feel. A whisper of your name, just one more pill, needing his meaning, a void to fill. Round and round you go on the merry go round, craving again, ceasing the sound. Deeper and deeper you fall, killing yourself, becoming his call. Letting the flame befall the fire, obeying him, defeated by desire. Sense of self, truth, lost and afar. For an addict is what you are.

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Bottled Up by Julianne Fisher

Niccol di Bernardo dei Machiavelli: Philosopher, Writer, and Prince by Casey Kolbeck Multiple years after the devastation of the Black Death in the late 14th century, Europe finally began to recover economically and politically. Rulers and kings began to prosper again from the trade and commerce throughout the continent of Europe. Not only was trade a booming industry, but scholastic pieces of literature begun to emerge in vast amounts. Niccolo Machiavelli, an Italian prince famous for his pieces of work written during the 15th and early 16th centuries, demonstrates his views and moral justifications of virtues in his book The Prince. His book, said to be distributed in the early 16th century, is a how-to on behavior and how to rule for all leaders and figures with positions of power. Although Machiavellis core principles for a leader were based off deception, dishonesty and trickery, these principles were, in my opinion, an effective and successful way to rule ones people. In addition to benefiting the leader, these morals and values benefited the ruled people as well. Late in his book Machiavelli discusses the effectiveness of meanness and generosity while ruling over the multitude. Machiavelli states that one must be parsimonious in order to gain the reputation of being generous. In other words, through being ungenerous a leader can gain the reputation of being generous for multiple reasons. While liberality brings despise and hatred, being ungenerous will lead to the same effect. However, by being ungenerous one can eventually be understood as a generous man. (If a ruler is constantly ungenerous and shows some sort of generosity at any given time, it can be regarded as a rare occasion.) Thus Machiavelli is telling leaders to not be afraid of being unfair to the people. He provides examples in history, like Julius Caesar, where rulers have been caught in the situation of too much generosity. Caesar was known for his generosity, but if he had survived after becoming so, and had not moderated his expenses, his empire would not have lasted. Therefore it is wiser to have a reputation for meanness, which brings reproach without hatred, than to be compelled through seeking a reputation for liberality to incur a name for rapacity which begets reproach with hatred. Machiavelli provides another justification for the virtue of clemency. He exclaims that this is an important feature that a ruler needs to learn to harness and use to his or her own advantage. The controversy Machiavelli discusses says that one should be compassionate yet cruel at the same time. While it is important to show compassion and love for the ruled people, a ruler must be seen as cruel in order to avoid the weakness of mercy. The disloyal subjects must be punished or an atmosphere of disorder and chaos is created. Cesare Borgia, for example, was considered cruel; notwithstanding, his cruelty reconciled the Romagna, unified it, and restored it to peace and loyalty. Thus the punishment, such as an execution, of one individual will not affect the majority of the people. Not only does Machiavelli say that cruelty is an important factor, but exciting the masses to fear, to love and to hate seems to be a major feature that a ruler must attain. Nevertheless a prince ought to inspire fear in such a way that, if he does not win love, he avoids hatred; because he can endure very well being feared whilst he is not hated Therefore, the fear a prince instigates in the public will benefit him in certain ways. The people must fear the rule of the prince in order to obtain certain amounts of justice and peace. When the time comes, (especially in times 12

of danger) the fear is used to strengthen the bond between the prince and the public. Whereas love, in times of danger, can easily be betrayed, fear of punishment can arise to be an effective and useful tactic. On the other hand, Machiavelli explains that too much fear must be avoided. Not only too much fear, but the means that the leader instigates his fear in the minds of the public. ungrateful, fickle, dissembling, anxious to flee danger, and covetous of gain. The author of The Prince uses this description of man to demonstrate how easily a ruler can be hated. If one is not careful while ruling and governing his empire, the masses could resort to hatred as a result of the oppressive actions of the ruler. Even though the ruler is trying to benefit him and the mass of population, one must be careful and vigilant while instigating emotions to the public. In addition to generosity and clemency, Machiavelli introduces a discussion on keeping ones word. He presents this argument by making an analogy between beast and man. You must know there are two ways of contesting, the one by the law, the other by force Later, the book says that the law is natural to man while force is natural to the beast. While being crafty and cunning a prince will be able to harness both ways of honesty. Thus a prince must be half human and half beast in order to please everyone. The author then argues that a ruler must be like a fox and a lion. One should be as cunning and sly as the fox, at the same time be as forceful and defensive as the lion. Maximilian I was known for his appearance as a good ruler, however he used these qualities to govern for his own benefit. Therefore, the public will believe in the virtuous and pious nature of the prince while the prince is using his appearance to employ evil to achieve an overall goal. The virtues and features that a prince or any other type of ruler should attain were clearly defended and argued in Niccolo Machiavellis The Prince. He exclaims that mercy and cruelty should be used together to create a balance of punishment and peace. Moreover, instigating fear into the masses should be regarded as a positive factor of ruling rather than a negative usage of power (as long as one uses it correctly). Generosity goes hand and hand with parsimony in order to accomplish an overall goal of the image of a successful reign. Lastly, trickery is used to create an illusion of trust, which the prince or ruler will use to his advantage. In conclusion, Niccolo Machiavellis how-to book, The Prince, can be seen as a piece of literary genius that can be used by a ruler in order to have a successful reign and be seen as an effective ruler who implements policies that benefit his people.

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Reflctions by Glenn Cox

Enigmatic by MacKenzie Cole

Beaming by MacKenzie Cole

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Save As God by Jessica Fisher For thousands of years, the human race has believed in a higher being whether it is multiple gods that rule different elements or one almighty god that cares for each individuals welfare in his or her life. The idea that there is something omnipotent in nature and the mysteries of the world rather than rationalizing using just technology and science is how human kind has functioned and answered the earliest of questions. But this design is contradicted in Margaret Atwoods Oryx and Crake where the world is built on science and the discovery of changing nature or splicing to benefit human society. Within this world, number-minded Crake is focused on the plan of making the best human possible which involves eradicating human religion with the belief that God is a cluster of neurons and therefore, with the use of technology, can be destroyed within the human brain (157). Crakes attempts to destroy the G-spot in the brain, however, have caused, like any science experiment, some adverse effects on his test subjects such as them turning into zombies or psychopaths. When he finally creates the ultimate human being, otherwise known as a Craker, by splicing together multiple animal traits, he believes he has deleted the need for God with his new floor model design. What Crake did not realize was that the idea of God is not some type of corrupt file on a computer, or a file that can be saved onto the hard drive and then easily forgotten, but rather a force that not only creates abstract thought but also spurns the imagination in human beings. It is ironic that the one aspect of the brain Crake wanted to eradicate by destroying himself and the human race rebounded and instead developed a religion where Crake was known as a God. I think that Margaret Atwoods book demonstrates the importance of religion in the average humans day to day life with the idea that God in the human brain spurns abstract thought and therefore creation. The story that the Crakers created is a rationalized idea that helps them understand what has happened to their once utopian life; it is a survival technique to make sure the Crakers can adapt to their new lives and continue to function effectively. The survival technique creates abstract thought, with that imagination soon follows which forms a story of creation. Therefore with a story of their own creation, a new insight is developed, the story of omnipotent beings that saved the Crakers from the chaos. The Crakers have learned from experience that their creators, Oryx and Crake, will save them in times of trouble. I believe that Margaret Atwood is trying to say that some ideas like the need for being saved are not only universal, but cannot be deleted. Unlike a computer, Supreme beings cannot be saved as a document or a pdf file in the brain. No, what Margaret Atwood is trying to say, and I agree, is that the purpose of Supreme beings, especially Oryx and Crake in this novel, is to save every person from themselves. Margaret Atwoods novel Oryx and Crake shows the importance of religion is a persons life due to the fact that everyone wants to be saved, although not necessarily to a computer hard drive. Atwood shows two sides of religion in her book, one from the science-savvy Crake who does not believe in God and the other from the nave Crakers who are looking for an answer to life. Both perspectives show that a Supreme Being is needed for misguided Crake and innocent Crakers who are both searching for someone who cares. 15

Connection by Christian Brown 16

What is Done is Done by Adam Pierson Why have you done this son? Why did you do this my little one? Ive taught you things all your life. Now youve gone and caused me strife. You went and bought a Kangaroo. Thats not right, even I knew. He jumps, eats, and poops all day, And youre wondering why he cannot stay? Why have you done this son? Why did you do this my little one? What have I done? Ill tell you what I have done. I went to the zoo and found a friend, And friends are really what matter in the end. Who cares if he breaks whatever is in his way? Unlike our friendship, those things will just wither away. You may not like him, but I like him so. Who says its your choice whether he stays, or goes? What have I done? I made a new friend today for one.

Contained Excitement by Mackenzie Cole 17

Devil Door by Danielle Allen I sat in the corner with my head down. There was nothing to raise my head about. I had just failed a test maybe two. I shoved my nose into my sweater. Out of all places in the school I could sit, I picked the bathroom. The stench hit me in the face repeatedly. I was almost to the point of tears. I got up to find a more secluded part of the school to mope in. I washed my hands to rid myself of the unknown bacteria that colonized on the floor. I turned back to one of the stalls. Well, since Im here. I walked into one of the fetid stalls. Oh my! I saw what was clogging it. I pushed myself back out of the stall. My back hit the door of the stall. I shuffled around to face the door. Howd you get locked? I pinched the knob between my fingers and pulled to the left. It didnt budge a millimeter. I took a deep breath in, but coughed it out instinctively. The smell was too much to bear. I wiped the tears from my eyes with my sweater and tried to relax. No biggie, its just locked. I leaned against the door and put all my weight on the lock and pushed on the lock. I stepped back and examined the door. Its just really locked. I cautiously took two steps back. It was a small area to try to get my momentum going, but I was going to try. They made it look easy on the television. All you had to do was kick. I kicked. My food ricocheted off the door- which did not budge- and fell to the ground. I tipped backwards and caught myself before gravity could seal my horrid fate. I reached down to rub my hamstring. I looked back up at the door. You. My tone was low and almost cold. I had spoken to the door as if he had just murdered my dog. I hate you. I realized that I had never said that to anyone before. I wasnt the hater type. This door was different though; this door was the devil. I growled at it and threw my shoulder into it. One shoulder was down. I tried the other side. Another shoulder was down. I had to be smart with my next move. I only had one good body part left- my left leg. I had an epiphany. I looked up and over the stalls to the light shining on the other side. This was the key. I cautiously stepped my right leg on the toilet rim, careful not to infect my boots with whatever foul specimens littered the bowl. I had to life my arms up slowly. I reached one at a time for the top of the stall- for the top to freedom. My shoulders were definitely going to bruise in the morning. As I climbed I could feel the accumulated dust on the top of the other stall. I had a solid grip, at least until I slipped. My left boot lodged itself into the soup that waited below. I could feel the tears banging at the gates to my eyes. I laughed instead. No, it was a laughing cry. I sat there with my boot in the mush soaking up as much of it as possible. I didnt know if I should take it out, or just leave it in. I thought that taking it out would just waft the smell around more. On top of that, I would be the one responsible to clean it up. The bell rang! I heard girls laughing and walking into the bathroom. Hello? I asked. Hey? I heard a voice reply. I breathed a slight breath of relief, this time making sure not to inhale as much. Hey, do you think you can help me? My doors jammed shut and I cant get out. 18

Did you try the lock? another voice asked. No, I just sat here idly. Yes, I tried the lock. I sounded sarcastic. A girl walked into the stall adjacent to me and locked the door. I heard the door unlock as she walked out. Did you try pushing it to the right? she asked. I pivoted around and reached out to the lock. I hesitated before I pushed it. I shook my head and shoved it to the right. Click. The door cracked open. The two girls peered into the stall. Their eyes widened as they covered their noses. Neither one wanted to ask the question. They stared in silence. I was going to go to the bathroom. I saw the stall looked like this so I turned around to find a new one. It was locked. I pushed to the left instead of the right. I tried to climb out and fell. You guys came and found me and here I am telling my story. I shifted my weight so I could sit on the toilet paper dispenser and give my right leg a rest. Could you go get the janitor? I asked to break their shock. The contents of the bowl had completely marinated my boots and were making their way up my jeans one thread at a time. Like today? I asked in a more authoritative tone. I could only imagine what egregious material was sloshing between my toes. Oh! By the way, we got both tests back and supposedly everyone aced it. The girls held up their index fingers simultaneously. Well be right back. I sat and looked down in the bowl. This is bull- I didnt finish my sentence. The current situation would not allow me to. It was tooironic. One of the girls returned with the janitor. Oh my, he said, those boots aint made for walking no more! The three of them laughed hysterically as I forced myself not to kick the contents in their direction. Instead, I smiled, Guess not.

Shapeless by Urvashi Patel 19

White and Blue by Christian Porter

(set to the music of Black and Yellow by Wiz Khalifa)

Yeah, Uh huh, You know what it is white and blue (Chorus) Yeah Uh huh, You know what it is in everything we do, all we do is win Yeah Uh huh, Screamin you, you dont want none fans gettin hype, (hype) adrenaline pumpin know I rep my team and Im rootin for Indy the white and blue step on the scene, suited up and lookin mean white and blue Panthers ballin, spaldin, play callin, opponents fallin n bawlin cause they lost it, were so appallin, shots we poppin in droppin in, aint no stoppin em, yeah you fallin, the fans rockin, we stay shockin, beatin the clock and ya players swappin, but its not them its us cause were a problem (coach puts subs in cause he thinks the players on the court are the playing badly but really its cause were so good), no problem solvin, losin aint an option, thats what we opt in so we loppin (cutting), yeah we croppin (other teams out of the picture), opponents gawkin, errybody talkin, attention brought in, other teams floppin, cause we moppin (pun cause wet floors their floppin around), cross overs, shot fake got you hoppin, then driven by ya n put the rock in, we at the top,n we get our props in cant be caught n we, unorthodox (Independent by being #1), number 1 spot, no matter what you thought, its not worth to sought, a chance theres not (dont try and reach our level, theres no chance), so I advise you stop ya plot like a dot, unless you wanna see what we got, and get taught, I jot ink blots to get the point across that no one team should have all these watts, (West (No one man should have all this power reference)) (Chorus) Panthers bringing the pain in, movin chains, its like you playin insane while its rainin (hardest mode in a game in the rain where its slick) hits like blitz (game blitz: the league) when we blitz we aint playin, leave you decayin, other teams hatin, were so amazin with our fakin, n play makin, when we evadin, leavin you jaded, rude awakenins, haters fadin, they aint fazin, us number 1 ratin, and we stayin renegadin, we narratin (we tell the story), cleanin our plates n (wipin them out), yall dont wanna snap it, game delayin, prayin you wont need first aidin, from the cascadin, raidin, invadin, got fans swayin, paradin, awaitin, and instigatin (Chorus) [Panther fans up in the stands yell go big blue (Go big blue)]3 (Go big blue)4 Yeah, Uh huh, You know what it is

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Web of Leaves by Julianne Fisher 21

Youd Think by Taylor Kolbeck The fire started about a week ago. Hundreds of homes have been destroyed. Everyday we have been flying up into the air in our helicopter trying to contain the flames, but so far, we have failed. Youd think we would have given up by now. This is a hard job: tiring, boring, next to impossible. I question my reason for continuing on with the job. Especially after everything else that has happened in my life. Im watching the flames burn all around me. The roar of the fire hurts my ears, and the flames grow so high that they lick the bottom of the helicopter. The helicopter jerks higher into the sky, and for a moment, the breeze of the wind cools down my skin. The heat of the fire is forgotten until we plunge down again towards the fire, trying to tame the flames. Youd think that after everything Id been through I would choose to be anywhere but watching the homes and the ground beneath me burning. The fire spreads with every second. I watch it consume a clump of treesthe crackling of the trees falling around me. Youd think that after what happened to my house and my belongings Id stop doing this so that the memory would stop popping up in my head. Normal people would run as far away as possible from the cause of their problemsnot me. It is almost time for us to drop the next load. Weve dropped so much water throughout the day, but so far nothing has stopped the monstrous flames. It is beginning to feel like this fire is uncontainable. My optimism disappears like all the memories and pictures burned to ashes in that fire. Im looking into the flames, and I realize I see something moving. Youd think everyone would have been smart enough to get out of there by now, especially since this area had been evacuated when the fire first started. This area we are flying over is a newly affected area. Now that I look closer, I breathe with a sigh of relief. It isnt a group of people, it is a herd of deer. The herd is sprinting gracefully away from the flames. As I watch their swift movement I begin to daydream. I begin to go back to that horrible day. It is the Fourth of July. Hamburgers and hotdogs are sizzling on the grill. My kids are splashing in the pool. There is juicy watermelon and crunchy corn. The table is cleared and the grill is put away. Hot coals are thrown into the trashcan, and we drive to watch the fireworks. It is an early night for my wife and my kids. Im sitting around with my friends, sipping beer, enjoying each others company. My phone rings; I get the call that ruined my life. My stupid mistake causes me horrible pain. Youd think that I would be scarred for life. Youd think that I would do everything in my power to stop something like this from happening again. Youd think right.

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Low Blows by Macy Amsden You and I remain like boxers. We stand in a ring, throwing punches. There we go with our low blows. Stopping at the bell, retreating back to our corners with our tears and our tears. Back again for more, to prove our point, to force our fight. Throwing our power and our pain. Punching our cower, making the stain. Waging the war, what we have become. Hurting each other, staring down the barrel of the gun. We lost our minds, we lost our words. We threw punches and lost control. It hit us hard, it hit us fast. Cutting me deep, magnitude of the impact. Watch while, together, we fall undone.

Fueled by Ignorance by Christine Roberts we are fueled by ignorance each action, breath momentary silence consumed destroys the foundation of life. the world is ending, let us accept fact, trust instinct, throw away the bonds of solitary confinement. the clock will continue to tick two years, one year, kaboom until the catastrophic effects of man made greed devastates. the truth is startling, heart breaking, creates the sickness in the stomach of lifes last enveloping breaths creates the fear of knowing, when? hush. sit back. enjoy the destruction relax. rely on religion. it could be painless.

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Quarterback Sneak by Nicole Fox It was the first day of school and I was already bored. That was not a good sign. My best friend Grace was bouncing up and down next to me, her red curly hair acting the same. Whats so exciting? I asked, really not seeing her point. We were walking outside after the clubs and extracurricular activities fair portion of the day. It was freshman orientation, which could have been interesting if my four older brothers hadnt gone to this same school. Yes, Im a girl with four older brothers, and a twin brother. So you can probably guess that Im a tomboy. All of my older brothersBrett, Peyton, Tom, and Donovanwent to college on full-ride football scholarships. Needless to say, the girly clubs werent interesting to me all that much. But, Grace was about my only friend here, so I resigned myself to the fact that I was going to be dragged around for the next few hours. Drew! Grace said, snapping me out of my daze. What do you think? Uh, I just dont think clubs are really my thing. I think Id rather do a sport. Okay, then! she said happily. I still didnt get why she was so excited about all of this. Lets go watch the scrimmages. Not seeing a better option, I agreed. Nothing particularly exciting happened, and I wasnt leaping off my feet to go join anything. Football was the last of the afternoon. A bunch of guys trotted out in their sharp uniforms, followed by the cheerleaders. They were really hyper. Much too excited for the first day of school, I thought, and was about to say. Then Grace turned to me, really excited and said, I know! I should be a cheerleader, and you can be one too! I had a good laugh at that one. Grace would make a good cheerleader, but me? I was an athletically built, five-nine freshman girl. My sides were hurting from laughing so hard. People were starting to stare, which we were used to. We had never been very popular. I finally recovered enough to pay attention to the scrimmage. It wasnt pretty. The team needed a lot of help. Why would you throw into triple coverage? I moaned at the quarterback. Eighty-three was wide open! If you know so much, hot shot, why dont you go out for the team, some guy sneered at me. Yeah, his buddy added, why dont you? And that was when I got the craziest idea of my already crazy, fourteen-year old life. ***** Who are you? an assistant coach asked me. I was the only kid at tryouts with my helmet on already, because I didnt want anyone to kick me out before I got a chance to talk with the head coach. Coach Gates had coached Donovan, so I hoped he would at least listen to me. Uh, Carson Johnston, I lied, deepening my voice a little and hoping I didnt sound like an idiot as I gave him my twin brothers name. Luckily, Carson had decided to be the rebel of the family and sign up for choir instead of football. I had chopped my dark brown hair to my shoulders to match Carsons length and hoped 24

no one would notice me. The assistant led me over to the coach, presumably to talk with me about what position I would play or something. Carson! he boomed as we walked over. Its good to see you. You too, Coach, I said, taking off my helmet. He gaped. Drew! What are you doing here? I want to try out... for quarterback. ***** Coach Gates was a little unsure at first, but I convinced him to at least give me a shot or tell any of the others who I was. I didnt want anyone going easy or hard on me because I was a girl. Okay, Coach said, looking at me, ready? I nodded. The center snapped me the ball. It was a little to the left and low, but I was used to Carson snapping, so it was easy for me to catch. I dropped back and threw the ball. For this drill, the coaches just wanted to see how we threw. There were two receivers to throw to. One was about twenty yards away, and the other was fifty. So far no one had attempted to go for the fifty yards, so I thought, what the heck? I might as well go for it. The ball soared through the air, and I have to admit, it was beautiful. It was a perfect spiral, and it landed right in the surprised receivers outstretched arms. Coach Gates blew the whistle after that and moved us on to other drills, but I could tell his eyes never really left me. ***** The roster was posted the next day. I made the team. Even better, I was second-string, the back-up quarterback. I was so excited that I actually enjoyed going to school that day and seeing everyone stare at me. Practice was great too. Coach Johnston introduced me just like he did every other player, and told off all the upperclassmen who complained about having a girl on the team. To make it even better, a senior was third-string, behind me. I was liking this. ***** You wanted to see me coach? I asked, two weeks later, in Coach Gates office. Yes Drew, come in. Sit down. I sat. Im going to make you the starter. What? I said. Youve been better than Shaun at practice, and honestly, I think he may have a stronger arm, but youre way more accurate and can move around in the pocket better. Plus you have more football knowledge. So Im going to start you on Friday. I was speechless, which was pretty rare for me. I didnt know how the team would take it. Almost all of them at least respected me, because I had made it through two weeks of intense practice, and was still doing all right, but I didnt know how many of them would be happy with me being their leader. I did have two friends on varsity, and both of them were waiting for me when I got out of the office. Jack was an offensive lineman, and Reggie was the receiver who had caught my fiftyyard pass at tryouts. Im starting on Friday, I said. 25

No way? Reggie said. Thats awesome dude! Are we going to go celebrate? Jack asked. Nah, I said, smiling, Were going to do something better. Were going to study their defense. ***** I was so nervous, I thought I was going to throw up. Reggie put his arm on my shoulder. Just chill, he said, youll be fine. I nodded and ran out onto the field with the rest of them. Introductions were done, and I got a pretty good cheer from our home crowd, although it was obvious a bunch of people didnt think a freshman girl should be starting over a junior guy. We failed to get a first down on the opening possession, and the next two after that. At least our defense had been playing well, so the score was only 14-0 at halftime. Coach Gates chewed us out, but we all left the locker room feeling a little more confident. We were about to find out that we played the underdog role well. I handed the ball off to our running back on the first play of the second half, and he ran down for a huge gain. Then, just a play later, I connected with Reggie on a thirty-eight yard pass that went for a touchdown. We hit him again on the next drive to tie the game, but we didnt score after that. This left the game tied with one minute left. Everyone in the crowd and the sidelines was anxious, but I had plenty of time. Two minute offense, lets go! I ordered, walking out onto the field. Arent we going to huddle? the running back asked. Nope. I walked straight to the line of scrimmage and snapped the ball, catching their defense off guard. Not many high schools in our division played the no-huddle offense yet. I dropped back and scanned the area with my eyes. I saw our tight end open up, and I threw the ball downfield for fifteen-yard gain. We hurried down and snapped the ball again. I made a few more short completions, but time was running out and we still werent in field goal range. We would have time for one last play. Again, I dropped back, looking for someone open. No one was. They were playing good defense. I scrambled around, avoiding tacklers and still no one was open. Then I saw an opening. I didnt have time to think twice. I tucked the ball under my arm and took off running. I dodged a few guys early on, but my line was doing a good job of blocking. I kept running, noticing that time expired as I did. This would be the last play. I had to score. Suddenly a defender fell in front of me. I hurdled him. It was pure instinct. Then there was no one between me and the end zone. I wish I could say I did some sort of cool dive or celebration, but honestly, I was too nervous to do anything other than sprint in and stand there with my arms still locked in a death grip around the ball. But then my teammates came and surrounded me and I realized I could let go. We had won. Yeah! We won! Jack cheered. Hey. Said Mason, one of our best senior receivers. Nice play out there. Youre pretty good after all. The rest of the team nodded, and that was when I knew they had finally accepted me. The rest of the year was going to be awesome. 26

27

Classic Beauty by Rachel Manning

I Want to Sleep with You by Jackie Ross These days, I hate sleeping alone. I hate feeling the empty space next to me when I lie awake in bed at night. I know what it feels like to have you with me holding me as I doze off into the unknown. If my head lies in just the right position, I can hear your heart beating. The tracing of your fingers along my forehead lulls me into unconsciousness. Theres no better place in the world than right there in your embrace. The softness of your t-shirt is far superior to any pillow I know, and your scent washes over me and protects me like a blanket. Our breathing finally comes into unison; you inhale lifting me up ever so slightly with the movement of your chest. The heat radiates from your body and warms my skin. Us. Together as one. On those nights when I crawl into my cold bed with nothing to hold but my knees to my chest, I crave nothing else than your peaceful body next to mine, shielding me from any harm.

Her Eyes by Sam McCoy Hearts race and trees dance Under the starlight sky Quiet acoustic guitars play in the background Her sundress soft and hair wavy I feel the grass bend underneath the blanket Smoke drifts up and swirls My denim jacket on her shoulders I feel her shoulder blade relax On my chest. The scent of her hair ensues my nose. Intoxication. Infatuation. I tilt my head just enough For my eyes to look at her. I see her eyes lift to see the stars Mine remain, stationary. Mine see the stars in hers.

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In My Cup of Coffee by Jessica Fisher In my cup of coffee, I see his glow. The sweet, swirling, steam is his unique soul. His bubbling laugh affects everyone I know; To be the subject is my only goal. From day to day his bitter love persists, The biting taste brings pleasure to my lips. With each sip, I want him more, but he resists. His warmth spreads through me; my love-sick heart skips. Love was the caffeine that kept me alive. The taste of his love was no unusual kind, full of foreign flavors that made me thrive. Maybe that is why he wont leave my mind. I stare in my cup, and recall the past, one single tears falls and it was the last.

Sweet Moon Beams by Jennifer Steere Undeniably beautiful. He dishes out wonder. Shining down on the world, Promising love, promising hope. King of the sky, soft and white. He embraces young lovers, Taking their hearts for a night. Entwining them to make one. What bliss, what sweet utopia. Beauty of all beauties, The moon. 29

30

The Looking Glass by Sam Carter

Cue the Rain by Sam McCoy His first time driving, She sits, hands on her chin, Thunderous roar of rain on the roof Perfect timing for a pit stop He pulls over to the side, Steps out and walks around, Opens her door slightly Hey I wanna try something She takes his hand and steps out, Unaware of the surprise that lies ahead She stands there, as the rain touches her cheek He pulls her in close They kiss in the rain on the side of the road Her sweatshirt cold with the precipitation, Both hearts warm in the sensation of young love Lips release, eyes closed, foreheads connected. Ive been waiting to do that for a long time. She is speechless, while shouting her utmost compassion Im so glad you did. Softly said, They climb in the car and continue on their journey, They do not dwell on the moment, Too great to reminisce, Cue the Rain.

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American Muscle by Glenn Cox

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Scooter by Danielle Allen Nana was okay. Mommy said we should pray to Jesus so we can find Nana a new house, because the fire took the old one. I saw her in the bed with nurses and doctors all around her. David said she was like a robot. She had wires in her arms to charge her up and she never talked. She beeped. Beep, two, three, four, beep, two three, four. I drew a picture of her as an angel because she was dressed in white. She was beautiful. I sat on my belly with my crayons on my side. I had to color Nanas angel dress blue because the white doesnt show up on the paper. My daddy walked in. Charlie? he walked a little closer and squatted next to me. The last time he squatted like this, he told me Sir Walter, my hamster, had died. I smiled so he wouldnt catch on to my new observationI think thats the right wordabout him squatting. You know how it was your idea to give Nana a puppy after grandpa died? I nodded and waited for him to go on. I think he was talking about Scooter. Thats the only puppy I know about, but Scooter is old and cranky now. Hes not a puppy anymore. Well, Nana told me that Scooter saved her. She said that he was the one that helped her out of the house. What? My Scooter saved Nana? He was fat and lazy! He only got up when Nana gave him chicken or meatballs. Oh, and apples. Scooter loves apples. How did he save her? I bet he was some type of secret agent spy. He always seemed to be smarter than our other dogs. I looked down at my picture of Nana. I picked up my brown and black crayons and started drawing Scooter in the corner. My dad had started talking again, but I wasnt paying attention. I tried to think of how somebody would go about drawing an eagle. I tapped on my dads shoulder. He was sitting next to Nana now. Daddy? How do you draw an eagle? I asked. An eagle? Are you drawing Scooter? I nodded again. Charlotte, Scooter was a beagle, not an eagle. I stroked my chin like they did in cartoons. That makes more sense. Scooter is not a bird. Especially not a skinny one. My daddy laughed. I sat back down by my crayons. I still didnt know how to draw a beagle though. I started anyway with what I knew best. The ears. They were long and brown and floppy. It seemed simple enough. Next was the belly. Scooters belly could touch the floor when he sat down. I made a few more adjustments to the picture when it was finally done. Nana was a little crooked, but I think it worked. Scooter was perfect. I finished just in time. Mommy had walked into the room with lunch. She carried two trays at once, too. I think my mommy was a secret agent spy too. She seemed very secret. I ran up to her to give her a hug when I noticed a book in between her arm and ribs. Whats that? I was tempted to tug at it but I thought that might make her drop the trays of food. She set the trays down and handed it to me. She didnt say anything after that though. Oh, I thought, a secret mission. I opened the book to find pictures of my entire family. I flipped through the pictures and laughed at the ones that had me doing something silly. I flipped through the entire book, and then went back to the beginning. Page one: me, Nana and Scooter. Scooter was still a puppy. He looked happy though. I think by page ten or so, Scooter started looking tired. His brown eyes were sad. Page eleven: me, Nana and Scooter. 33

I flipped to the next page. It had David, Nana and Scooter. I flipped back and forth from the pages. Scooter was sitting in the same exact position! I flipped to page thirteen. It was the same. I picked up the book to examine it closer. A white sheet of paper dropped to the ground. I unfolded it. I think my daddy keeps these in his wallet. A receipt is what he calls it. The top of it read: Scott & Sons Taxidermist. What the ham sandwich? My mom gave me a real brain whizzer. I thought about everything I knew about receipts. You have to pay for something first. Then they give you a receipt when you pay them. Next, my dad always talked about taxes. Those were bad. The last part of the word was dentist. Those were not good at all. What ever this receipt is, it was not a good one. I walked up to David in the corner. He was playing on his Nintendo. Psst! Whats a taxidentist? He shrugged. Well, youre a big help. Not! I sat back down and wondered how I would figure it out. Then it hit me. The dictionary! Id seen my brother use it all the time. They had to have had one in the hospital. I walked out the room and stopped the first nurse I saw. Excuse me, might you have a dictionary near by? If so, may I please use it? I asked her the politest way I knew how. Ha-ha! Arent you the cutest thing ever? What word do you need to know about missy? I think I can help you. The nurse patted my head like I was Scooter. Taxidentist. I said proudly. I showed the receipt just incase she needed to know how it was spelled. Oh wow. Thats an interesting word for a little girl to be looking up. Its pronounced tax-i-der-mist. Its a place people take their pets when they die. Its sort of like making them into stuffed animals. My eyes bolted open and my jaw dropped. They did that too all the time in cartoons when someone was shocked. I turned and ran back into Nanas room. I had to stop breathing so heavy or everyone would know about my secret mission. I opened the picture book again. One, two three five, six, seven eleven, twelve, thirteen. The evidence was right in front of me. Scooter was different in every picture except for the ones on the last three pages. I felt my eyes starting to tear as the truth hit me like an ice cream truck. Scooter was dead. I looked back down at the receipt through misty eyes. He had been a stuffed animal since November. I looked at my watch. It was February. How did Scooter save Nana if he was a puppet? I looked down at my drawing. A teardrop landed directly over his head. It made a perfect oval. I had gotten it all wrong. Nana wasnt the angel, Scooter was. I jumped up knocking my crayons over and ran over to my Nanas bedside. I tapped her shoulder. Nana? I tapped it again. My daddy didnt want me to wake her up but everybody in the room was already sleeping. She opened her eyes and looked at me. Scooter was an angel? How come you never told me? She smiled and all of her wrinkles danced on her face. Youre a smart girl. I knew you would figure it out. A tear trickled down her face and filled the cracks where the wrinkles were. He was the best gift you could ever have given me. 34

Petals by Allison Griffin She gazes out her back porch, soaking in the setting sun. Holding the dozen daises in her hand, wondering to herself if she should accept the truth. That their lives will continue on, their separate lives, She will go west, while he travels east. He will spend his nights painting the town red. She will spend her days embracing the colors of the earth. Perfect for each other, comfortable with each other, loving one another, Together they are as natural as the flowing water in a mountain stream, and the flowers blossoming in the spring. Yet, their dreams will keep them from one another, Separating them, alluring them, Until they reach the day when they have achieved them. So there she sits all alone, with her handful of daises. Pulling out petals one by one, believing that the last petal will turn out to be, he will come back to me.

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36

Purple Bouquet by Cassie Heflin

Index
Allen, Danielle........ 18, 19, 33, 34 Amsden, Macy.11, 23 Brown, Christian.16 Carter, Sam.....4, 30 Cole, Mackenzie..14, 17 Cox, Glenn. iii, 7, 13, 32 Faus, Emma..6 Fisher, Jessica.. 9, 15, 29 Fisher, Julianne.....11, 21 Fox, Nicole 24, 25, 26 Griffin, Allison.. 35 Heflin, Cassie ... 36 Kolbeck, Casey3, 4, 12, 13 Kolbeck, Taylor.8, 22 Malone, Ryan... i Manning, Rachel. 2, 10, 27 McCoy, Sam.... 2, 28, 31 Patel, Urvashi.19 Pierson, Adam17 Porter, Christian.20 Roberts, Christine. 23 Ross, Jackie28 Steere, Jennifer...1, 5, 6, 29 Yeskie, Amy.9

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to the 2010 Echoes staff for recieving a rating of from the National Council of Teachers of English in student literary magazines.

Congratulations Excellent

Submissions for the 2012 edition of Echoes can be emailed to: amanda.evens@theindependentschool.com. Visit our website at: http://echoesmagazine.weebly.com/

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The Independent School 8317 E. Douglas Wichita, KS 67207 316.686.0152 www.theindependentschool.com