Toi Valentine

Sean King

Sam Becker

Ben Syverson

Rietje Becker

Zoe Becker

We make our own fate. We go around blaming others, or God, for our mistakes, but that’s because we can’t admit that everything happens to us because of consequences of our decisions. Until that day I cracked open that unfortunate fortune cookie and read what my fate had in store.

“The greatest danger could be your own stupidity”, read the fortune cookie. Enraged, I stood up and yelled at the waiter, “I didn’t come in here to be insulted!” I stormed out of the restaurant blinded by rage, and strode right into the busy street.

I was so upset that I didn't realize how vigorously I was swinging by bag of Chinese leftovers as I paced down the sidewalk. I was about to cross the street when I accidentally hit a child in the head with two full boxes of fried rice.

“Ow,” said the kid, and as I looked down, I saw my father’s eyes looking back at me. In a flash, he was lost in the crowd. That’s impossible, right? It should be. But I couldn’t shake the feeling. Suddenly I lost my appetite, and dropped the carry out.

I thought back to the last time those eyes had looked up at me. My father had been a troubled man, but more than that, a scary man, who even in the throes of death had stared at me with disapproving eyes. The little boy ran off. I picked up my take out. I had a mystery to solve.

Just then it occurred to me. The man. In the cloak. He’d been lurking outside the room when my father was on his deathbed. He must have heard my pleas to turn my dad into a little boy so that he could act in my production of Newsies. Miracles did, indeed, exist. I tipped my hat.

The Mystery of the Weetle Dad

“You Will Run a Successful Sporting Goods Store in Tulsa.” It hit me like a country song at 2am. How could it be so specific? But there was no running from this. I immediately booked a flight to Florida.

I was asleep when we touched down in Orlando. I tried my best to forget but the moment I opened my eyes it all came flooding back. I took the card out of my shirt pocket and read it again to make sure I wasn't dreaming. By the time I got up I was the last one on the plane.

...Or was I? It started with a subtle hiss, you could easily confuse with grumblings of the A/C. As I got up to get off, the noise became deafening as I was being surrounded by a cacophony of rattling and hissing. It wasn't just me...there were 1000s of snakes on that plane.

“Think!” I thought, “How did Sam Jackson get those m’f’n snakes off the m’f’n plane?” But try as I might, I couldn’t remember any relevant plot details. I slapped myself in the face and said “Look alive!” I checked under my seat, and sure enough, there was an emergency parachute.

I grabbed the bright orange pack and bolted toward the cockpit. Facing down two cobras, each guarding one side of the aisle, I yanked the cord, sending even more snakes into the air. With my last bit of strength I tumbled out the side exit and into the arms of Orlando’s finest.

The Flight to Tulsa, FL

Sheila Sheedy

It was the first warm spring day in Paris. Marie threw open her window, and caught the scent of fresh baguettes from the bakery down the street. Marie had a sudden wave of happiness, and a feeling that summer 1923 was going to be fun. Little did she know,

that simple smell of bread was her last moment of happiness. If she had known, she may have noticed the crow sitting opposite her window. One beady eye kept steady on a figure just out of view.

The hospital curtain swung open and a tall, distinguished man in a top hat rushed in with a look of concern and a baguette under his arm. The bedridden patient, who only moments ago couldn’t lift her head, jumped out of bed and gracefully made an army salute.

“I brought word from the team”, the top hat man said. She stood down and her happy expression diminished. The baguette was placed on the bed. An alarm sounded in the next room, she turned to face it, but when she turned again, the man was gone. A note stuck out of the bread.

“Get on the flight,” it read in its ominous tone. She knew she’d have to get on there eventually, even though she hated what waited for her on the other side.

She sat down and did her breathing. Eyes closed, 4 seconds in, 4 seconds out. An old Marine trick—or so she was told. “Excuse me,” said a thick accent, “But I believe we’re flying together.” She opened her eyes. No. Couldn’t be. How did they find her here?

The Russian. How had he found her here? On this charter flight to Tijuana? She finished her drink and looked Boris right between the eyes. "Might as well get this over with," she said. But he just gave her a confused glance and sat down. Perhaps the doctors were right after all.

No pain, no gain

Nat Steinsultz

“Scalpel, stat!” shouted Dreardra. She had never operated on a minotaur—no one had—but now the fate of the world was literally in her hands.

Dreardra clutched her scalpel and glared at the figure across the operating theater. She'd never practiced medicine with a veterinarian before but then again she'd never operated on a specimen like this. The vet indicated placement of the first incision and Dreardra went to work.

She placed her hand on the creatures chest. Her fingers left deep indents in the soft flesh, its skin was warm and sticky, like a fruit roll up that had been left out in sun. As she cut down the creatures side, she caught a strange reflection in the scalpel's blade.

She quickly averted her eyes. Someone had come to observe her strange surgery. A person from the past. Someone who knew she couldn't legally practice medicine in the state of Kentucky. She paused her dissection of this strange creature and faced her own demon.

“Dad?” She asked cautiously. As if jolted by her own fear, the creature on the table stirred. “Honey, you know you are not licensed in Kentucky”. She dropped the scalpel and ran out of the room. Leaving her father behind to explain her issues with delusional behavior.

"She thinks she's a vet one day, and a scientist the next, and a surgeon the next day. I don't know how she found you or talked you into this, but I imagine you were pretty desperate to even listen to her at all. And your situation is nothing if not desperate right now."

It makes me wonder, honestly. What's the point? What do you think you'll gain from all this? Desperate or not. Is it worth it?

“Is it worth it?! Are you asking me if doing this one tiny thing is worth a lifetime supply of those tiny freeze dried marshmallows you get in SwissMiss?! I don’t even know you anymore.” And then I realized he was right. 

...Those things were delicious.

Toi Valentine
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Toi Valentine@toivalentine

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Toi's Stories

Toi Valentine
@toivalentine

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