https://caspercollege.cvlcollections.org/files/original/cb74cdad7a0b88d2eeaa8a43371be4b8.pdf c931d1267a3f33b5814a494046019ea7 PDF Text Text THE REQUIEM OF ELLIS Jerry Peterson Ellis smiled contentedly to himself. It was the perfect day to do it. He leaned back comfortably against a big cottonwood and gazed across the meadows towards the house. Curly, his old brown dog lay beside him and moved only now and then to snap half-heartedly at an occasional fly. Let’s see, Ellis thought and glanced at his old pocket watch. One o’clock, the folks should be getting home from town in two or three hours. Ellis almost laughed. Won’t they be surprised! All these years, Ellis thought, all these years ever since his mother had died and his old man had pawned him off onto his Aunt Minnie and Uncle George. Ellis let his mind wander back to his mother’s funeral. He could still see Aunt Minnie talking to his father. “Harper”, she had said, “Now that Dotty’s passed on, the boy will need more of a home than you can give him yourself. George and me have talked it over and if you want, we’ll take the boy to live with us. We’ll treat him right, see that he gets his schoolin’ goes to church, and besides he’ll have our Virgil and Sissie for company. “I don’t want to go with them, Pa!” Ellis said. “Take me with you Pa, I won’t be no trouble, honest Pa, let me go with you!” Ellis’s father looked down at his young son. “Your Aunt Minnie is right, boy. I can’t give you no home now. Not what with your Ma passin’ and all.” His father looked back up at his Aunt Minnie. “I’m obliged Minnie that you and George will consider takin’ the boy.” The first couple of years Ellis spent with his Aunt Winnie and Uncle George he never doubted that his father would one day come for him. Ellis gave up hope only after he learned a few years later that his father had married a widow woman who had four children of her own and had moved to Wisconsin with his new family. His father had even written him a letter in which he said he knew Ellis would be much happier living with Aunt Minnie and Uncle George on the farm than coming to live with him and his new family. “You stay and work on that farm boy,” his father had writ­ ten. “You’ll get plenty of good air and exercise there so you’ll grow into a big husky man. The city where were goin’ to live ain’t no place for a boy like you.” After the letter Ellis knew he would probably never see his father again. Ellis let his mind drift back to the present and gazed up at the sun filtering through the big branches of the cottonwood. Twelve years, had it been that long since his mother had died? Twelve —16— �lousy, stinking years on this God-forsaken South Dakota farm. Twelve years with Uncle George and Aunt Minnie and Virgil, the fat slob, and Sissie, the bitch. God how he hated them all. Ever since I been old enough to start doin’ a little work it’s been “Ellis, you do the chores this mornin”. Virgil ain’t feelin’ himself and says he thinks he’ll feel better if we let him rest an extra hour.” Or, “Ellis, you load the wagon up with posts and go up and fix that fence on the section line of the south pasture. Rest of us is goin’ to town and do some shoppin’ and mind you, Ellis, don’t go loppin’ around the house just cause we ain’t here. That fence don’t show improvement when we get home you’re gonna be sorely reckoned with.” After Ellis had finished the eighth grade. Uncle George had told him that was enough schooling for him. He said he wasn’t smart enough to go on anyway and might as well start learning to do a good full day’s work and making a hand. Of course Virgil and Sissie were to be sent on to high school but they were brighter than Ellis. Aunt Minnie would always say; “Just look at Virgil and Sissie’s report cards, George, almost straight “A’s.” Too bad Ellis can’t do as well, or at least a little better.” Of course it couldn’t be, Ellis would think to himself at times like this that if Virgil and Sissie would help with the chores he might get a bet­ card. Of course he never said anything to that effect out loud because Uncle George would have hided him for not being grateful to him and Aunt Minnie for putting him up all these years. Ellis let himself think of how they would react when they found out. Uncle George would probably be a little slow in grasping the situation; he usually was. Aunt Minnie would probably start quoting scripture and praying and wringing her hands like she did whenever she got excited. Virgil would probably faint. Ellis laughed outloud. That slob was the spine­ less worm of spineless worms. Ellis laughed again as he recalled the time he had put the little garden snake in Virgil’s bed covers and how, when he’d turned his bed down that night and saw the little snake, he lost control and wet himself. It had caused Ellis a beating but it had been worth every lick of it. He’ll probably just up and collapse into a big nervous mass of Jell-O when he sees what I’ve done this time, Ellis thought. Of, course, Sissie will figure I done it on account of her teasin’ me all the time. Swinging her little fanny around in them tight jeans of hers and always actin’ so cute. The bitch thinks she’s got every boy in the valley slobberin’ all over himself every time he thinks about her. If she only knew I wouldn’t touch her with a vaccinated crow bar unless it was to bash her stupid head in! A sparrow hawk screamed overhead and Ellis watched it for a moment as it lifted and fell on the easy summer breeze. —17— �I’ll be like that soon, Ellis thought, as he watched the hawk skip and bob in the pale, warm summer sky. No fences, no boundaries, no more Uncle George and Aunt Minnie, fat Virgil or bitch Sissie. Just freedom like the sparrow hawk. Ellis glanced at his watch again. Twenty minutes till two. Well, he thought, now is as good as time as any. He reached over and scratched the old brown dog beside him. “A couple more hours and we’re even with them Curly,” he said. “Even for the last twelve years we’ve spent on their rotten, stinkin’ farm. Then Ellis put the barrel of the gun against his temple and slowly squeezed the trigger. Overhead the sparrow hawk screamed. THE ELEGY Richard F. Miracle The town of Holton seemed to be in a trance tonight or so it would appear to a stranger. It was Friday which on a normal week would be very active, but tonight the populus stayed at home and waited. The people had known three months ago it would be like this. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it was supposed to be the last. On the second floor of the hotel a man could be seen looking out to­ wards the end of the town. In most respects he was the average man in every . His only difference was the peculiar smile on his face. Tonight was his night and his alone as far as he was concerned, but then he was not the only one concerned. Then there was a rap on the door and he new it was time to leave. With the moves of a cat he walked over and opened the door. “My escort for tonight, I suppose?” asked Chester. “Yes sir,” replied the guard. “I will get my coat and we can be off immediately, for I do not want to be late,” said Chester. Upon reaching the front of the hotel Chester looked up the street to see no more than a very quiet town. The glummest of feelings could be perceived in the light of a million stars and a full moon. “The town could pass for a ghost town tonight,” said Chester. “Yes, I believe it could,” replied the guard. “By the way, sir, is it al­ ways this quiet when you come here?” “Yes,” said Chester, “this will be my thirteenth trip in the last six years and it is always the same. Also between here and our destination you will find the same number of blocks. Tonight I will finish naming the blocks.” “What names do you give them?” asked the guard. “Well, as I have said, I started six years ago with my first task,” said Chester, “and each time I return I name another block. This first one is � Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Text Any textual data included in the document Print magazine story Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource "The Requiem of Ellis" Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <a href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-EDU/1.0/">http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC-EDU/1.0/</a> The Casper College Archives has archived this story to encourage the use of its Expression Literary Arts Magazines for digital humanities and other related educational uses. Date Created Date of creation of the resource. 1964 Description An account of the resource Story published by Jerry Peterson in the fall 1964 Casper College Expression magazine. Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Jerry Ellis Language A language of the resource ENG Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. 1964 Fall. Expression Literary and Arts Magazine, CCA 04.ii.c.2022.01 WyCaC US. Casper College Archives and Special Collections. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context CCA_04.ii.c.01_Expression1964_Fall_Peterson Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Extent The size or duration of the resource. 3 pages