The Wayward Wizard with Critical Introduction by Sonny C. Lawr A project submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of MASTER OF ARTS IN ENGLISH WEBER STATE UNIVERSITY Ogden, Utah 12/2024 Approved Dr. Sian Griffiths Name of Committee Chair 'Signatu/of Cl ttl Signatrm Committee Member Dr. Sally Shigley Name of Committee Member Dr. Daniel Paul Name of Committee Member The Wayward Wizards Critical Introduction Once upon a time in land far, far away, in a castle on the hillside lived a just king. This is an example of how many fairy tales started as they were told to me when I was a child. Even as a child, I understood what I was being told. Mostly because almost all the fairy tales I remember started this way. I knew that this story happened an exceptionally long time ago. I knew by saying far, far away that it was impossible to visit because far was too great of a distance, and far away meant this place had all sorts of magic. The castle couldn’t be considered a castle as I knew it, but instead was lavish and full of good people because the king was just. Looking at this opening with all the knowledge I have acquired changes the way I view how this sentence is working for me. I have struggled quite a bit to get my beginning in a way that pushes my story in the direction that I want it to go. Having to tackle world building, character development, where to start the story, and how things work in this world is like flipping through a combination lock without knowing the combination. In the first draft of my novel, I built off an experience that I have been through and cut and paste my main protagonist into my role. I thought that by doing this it would make the way it was read more profound: They say that when you pass the event horizon of a black hole that it is inescapable. Vicio Kykim found himself in that very situation without ever stepping off the planet. Twelve years of methamphetamine addiction had made him look like a skeleton wearing borrowed skin. His jet-black hair was just long enough to cover his sunken eyes. His Sonny Lawr cheek bones protruded out due to the lack of water weight. Only one thing was on his mind, the same thing that invaded his every waking moment…his next score. As first lines go, I thought this was a zinger. I was able to create tension with his need to get his fix. After Vic gets high, his story moved into Walmart, where he had a bad trip, and ambulance ride later he was with Ralphie. The first chapter didn’t make sense for the novel because it was an autobiography. As for the Walmart scene, it was a poorly written transition into another chapter. I now understand that Vic needed to walk his own path, and that I need to find him a place I had never been, and at the same time a place I could understand. Upon reading Writing Fantasy & Science Fiction, by Orson Scott Card, Philip Athans, and Jay Lake, I discovered a solution that I had not really been in search of. In chapter two, Card discusses the process of world building he took with his novel Hart’s Hope. He started by drawing a map, and then used a news story about conjoined twins to come up with some of the characters in his book (Card 30). I had never thought about using something happening in real life as a jumping point for a fictional story. A few months prior, I was scrolling through YouTube, when I discovered some stories about the mole people living in the tunnels of Vegas. Those addicted to drugs and the homeless lived in these tunnels. I saw myself when I was in the depth of my addiction easily being able to make the same choice. The drug was the only choice that mattered, and as long as I could get high, it didn’t matter where I was, even a deep dark tunnel. In the opening chapter of J.R.R. Tolkien’s novel, The Hobbit, he doesn’t describe his character right away. Instead, he describes the place where he wants us to begin, the hobbit-hole. He doesn’t talk about the two large maps before the first page of the book, but a place just off of 3 Sonny Lawr the map. I believe this was intentional to allow his words, instead of an image, to create the hobbit-hole in the reader’s mind. That image was one of cleanliness and comfort. He wrote, “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry bare sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort” (Tolkien 1). For me, this not only sets up Bilbo’s character but also Golem because everything that a hobbit-hole isn’t, Golem’s hole is. Then it hit me that not everyone would be able to relate to an addict using drugs, but everyone would be able to relate to seeing someone suffer from addiction. I decided that I would use the dark tunnels for a few purposes. One, since most of the tunnel is shrouded in darkness it becomes a character generating machine. This is what Tolkien did in the unexpected party of chapter one. Instead of having the dwarves show up all at the same time, he had them trickle into the scene. Giving him not only time to introduce each character but also to start to take the comfort away that Bilbo was accustomed to. Second, they can be used to show character suffering. Just as we were shown the love and the respect that the dwarves had for each other as they enjoyed Bilbo’s hobbit-hole. I decided that I had to research the tunnels. I needed the who, what, why, and where of these tunnels systems. I did quite a bit of research on the matter, and in the end three of them affected my work. Jessica Tucker authored an article called, “What's Going on in the Tunnels Under Las Vegas?” From this article, I learned there are 1500 people living in over 600 miles of tunnels. In the same article, I learned that this is an organized community. Tucker writes, “Just because people want to live in the tunnels under Las Vegas does not mean that they are automatically allowed to do so. This is because there is a hierarchy that exists in the tunnels.” 4 Sonny Lawr Tucker hints that those who don’t follow protocol meet with harsh punishments. In the YouTube video titled, “I Met the Mole People Who Live Below Las Vegas Tunnels,” filmed by Dohaa the Explorer, I learned that most of these mole people carry knives and guns. As he was gathering information about the tunnels, a police officer told him about these weapons, and also included to be wary as they approached some of them because they were not mentally stable. It seems simple enough to understand that it is there world, and if you don’t follow the rules, it could cost you your life. The last online video that helped me was, “Life in the tunnels beneath Las Vegas: ‘I came down here to be forgotten’” posted by The Guardian. “Living down here is the illusion is, is that there's nothing else around you, you forget that there’s an outside world, you forget that you're underground, it becomes your own world.” This video showed hypodermics on the ground, the fact that a man made his house by a ladder with a maintenance hole above, and he talked about his heroin addiction that led him to the tunnels to be forgotten. Also, I would like to note that each video was filled with graffiti, but at this time I didn’t know it would become pertinent. I built the world for Vic using these three videos. A tunnel system that was run and protected by its inhabitants. Everyone has a weapon of sorts. The inhabitants included the homeless, addicts, and the mentally unstable. I had the constant threat of floods, and a way to escape if necessary. Hypodermic needles scattered about the rest of the tunnel trash, and the ability to choose to be forgotten within the tunnels. I now can start my character at rock bottom. In the tunnels, I can put any character I want to use later, and just leave them there. I know they are there, and so does my reader. When these characters reenter the story, a brief what happened to them is all I need to make them step into the spotlight. I decided to create characters in the tunnel that had no information about them, or just enough information about them to get a 5 Sonny Lawr sense of what might be coming. Pam and Russ are married. Both are guardians of the tunnel entrance. Teena is an exceptional artist that works in the dark. Skillz has no attributes. Scatz defends himself by covering himself in fecal matter. After magic is introduced, Vic will encounter them again and their attributes will define their magic. As I applied the influences from both Tolkien and Card to the tunnels and realized that apart from my main protagonist, I could include a number of other characters inhabiting this place. Vic is not going anywhere without outside influence. If there is no Tim, Russ, Pam, Teena, or even Scatz then Vic will just climb back into his hole and continue wallowing in his addiction. Card was correct, the world had changed and now Vic had to as well. Now that I had more of my world’s influence, I started over with Vic’s journey. Orson Scott Card talks about the ripening idea: In my experience one thing is constant: Good stories don’t come from trying to write a story the moment I think of the first Idea. All but a handful of my stories have come from combining two completely unrelated ideas that have been following their own tracks through my imagination. And all the stories I was still proud of six months after writing them have come from ideas that ripened for many months—usually years—between the time I first thought of them and the time they were ready to put into a story. (33) The basic idea is to let the story mull over into your mind in order to develop it. In essence, daydreaming is acceptable and, in the end, will help build your world. When I threw in the tunnels the story ripened pretty quickly. I liked the way it turned out. I had borrowed from real life and could now take my reader out of the darkness and into the 6 Sonny Lawr magic. However, there was still something missing. I felt like I had the place I needed but nothing was pushing the story the way I wanted. I stared at the screen for a day or so before I decided to pop down with one of my favorite books and examine what was working for him. The novel was, Wizard’s First Rule by Terry Goodkind. I have not read this book in over twenty years, but I can remember the story line by heart, but this time when I started reading the story I learned a valuable lesson. The first line of the story, “It was an ODD-LOOKING vine.” Within pages I realized this simple sentence was pushing his story forward. I read about 100 pages and the vine was still lingering about. It pushed his protagonist, Richard, to seek the aid of his grandfather, which led him to finding a female from a different land, which led him to killing four men, and finally at the end of this chain he found out he was the seeker of truth. This is what I needed for my story, something simple that could linger and with a slight push move my story in the direction I wanted. In my first draft, I wrote, “The rules were simple in the tunnels of Las Vegas. Mind your own business, find your own spot, and most importantly if you hear thunder…get out. In the tunnels nothing was as scary or dangerous as rain. Thunder traveled the length of the tunnel system, and when you heard it, Vic knew getting out could mean life or death.” As I reread this, I thought why not call the tunnel Thunder Run? If they have to run every time they hear thunder, it makes sense. I immediately thought to myself, “Thunder Run is a stupid name for a tunnel.” I wrote the line down, and the world opened up for me. Instead of giving my reader a heads up that a storm was coming I needed to make that threat slightly vaguer. This thought led me into the graffiti plastered on the tunnel walls. 7 Sonny Lawr Instead of going through the rules in Vic’s mind that led to the knowledge that a storm was coming, I could make this foreshadowing something to be overlooked or ignored. By naming the tunnel, I could express Vic’s distaste for the name, and not something he feared. I thought if he didn’t like the name, it is feasible he would hate the color. Most importantly, I talked about the graffiti disappearing as you went deeper into the tunnel. He will have to use a flashlight to navigate. I believe this will show Vics’ comfortability in the darkness as long as he can control his own light source. I wanted to further this by his interaction with Teena and her artwork. He has to use a flashlight to see it. The act of turning off the light for her benefit and turning it on to admire her artwork shows that he has some semblance of respect left in him. The rest of the page is his internal thoughts. The rules of the tunnel and introduction to other characters that will come into the story later. In my experience, meth addicts can be on both sides of the fence when it comes to certain situations, so I used nicknames to make him a bit unreliable. Thunder Run and the mole people are nicknames that he hates, but when we go through character nicknames, we get nothing from him. I will be using this character attribute throughout the book. The nicknames one chooses is vastly different the ones given as a way to shame others. This will be the start of his rise from the bottom. Like Goodkind’s odd-looking vine, I used something simple to branch out into many facets of the story and characters. It is a simple piece of graffiti, and it is doing a lot of work. That work includes foreshadowing for the main action in chapter one, character traits for future chapters, to connect graffiti to Teena as she will be Vic’s first hurdle, and I can add more as this story progresses. It will also be used to bring Vic back to the tunnel system when he gets out of the mental ward. 8 Sonny Lawr In chapter three of Writing Fantasy & Science Fiction, Card discusses story creation. I have formed a love-hate relationship with this process. I need to give you a summary of what I originally had intended for this book idea. I thought about writing about two worlds, ours, and a world of magic. Both worlds use to be one, but they were separated for a specific reason that I had not invented yet. Wizards with the use of magic thought they could come back to earth by possessing the soulless, drug addicts, of our world. Their spell didn’t work out the way they intended, and addicts were able to access their magic. The story was to become a quest to stop both worlds from being restored into one planet. Vic was inhabited by a wizard named Grath, who was guiding Vic from Vegas to the Ozark Mountains in order to stop this restoration of a single planet from happening…or so he thought. I did this through the process of having a magical entity speaking to him in his mind, not unlike the film adaptation of Stephanie Meyers’s The Host. In The Host, an alien named Wanda inhabits the body of Melanie Stryder. Wanda is able to control everything but Melanie’s thoughts. To have conversations between them knowing Melanie’s freewill was gone created tension. There was an intense sense of time passing because of Melanies’ claustrophobic situation. This was not the case with Vic and Garth. The back-and-forth conversation between Vic and Garth would often stall. At first, I thought that time was failing because Garth put himself in this situation making it less of a claustrophobic conversation and more of a serve you right viewpoint. Vic accepted this voice without questioning what was going on was another reason this tactic failed. In Hunter S. Thompson’s, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, we follow Thompson and his attorney through a drug-fueled journey. Throughout the book there is a lot of back-and-forth 9 Sonny Lawr conversation between the two. The reason I bring this up is the nature of using drugs. If you use alone, the probability of getting arrested, hurt, or killed enhances dramatically. There is a scene where Thompson’s attorney no longer wants to live. He is asking Thompson to throw a radio into the tub because he is a bit suicidal. Thompson wrote, “I let the song build while I sorted thought the pile of fat ripe grapefruit next to the basin; I got a good Vida Blue fastball grip on the fucker—and just as “White Rabbit” peaked I lashed it into the tub like a cannonball.” Imagine for a moment if Thompson was a voice in the attorney’s head. Dear God, after writing this I realized with Thompson’s life this was a real possibility. Anyways, the attorney could have been seriously hurt or killed. Vic never belonged in a world where there was an extra voice in his head. He has to much going on up there already. He never belonged standing in front of his dealer’s house. His actions told me he was a man who has lost everything but his need for meth. He did belong in a tunnel filled with shit and insanity. Bringing Skillz and Skatz allowed me to bring the crazy away from being an affliction into something Vic experiences. Most importantly, this is Vic’s story. He has to be alone on this journey. The reason that this is important to time is that it made it hard to pay attention to time because of the constant back and forth in Vic’s mind. In fact, paying attention to anything but that conversation was impossible. After eliminating the voices in his head, quite a few choices for time came to mind. I could start in the midst of the action; the flood inbound causing the time to fly rapidly. I could slow the whole thing down by starting with a drip that turns to trickle that turns to flood. I could even do both fast and slow, using Vic’s inebriation to change the pacing. 10 Sonny Lawr It came to me while reading J.K. Rowlings’s Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. In the opening chapter, she uses Privet Drive as place, and the action was the wizarding worlds excitement at the apparent death of Voldemort. Her time was the length of a day, and that was for Mr. Dursley to go to work and come home. Albus Dumbledore showing up, turning out the lights and delivering Harry to the Dursleys’ doorstep. Where I received my inspiration was from the cat/Professor McGonagall. Through out the day the cat was noticed but never really in sync with time until Dumbledore showed up. The cat sat observing, unaffected by any outside influences including the passing time. The cat stayed frozen in place. I started to think that I could somehow make the effects of time stop at the tunnels’ entrance, but I think the residents would notice if there was a difference in time. In a mixed thought came my solution. Time flowed around Professor McGonagall when she was a cat, but she still experiencing the normal flow of time, then followed by my personal experience of incarceration. When you can’t see outside the building, the speed of time could be affected either way. With that I knew that I could ignore time altogether. We may see Vic checking the sky, but we have no way of knowing how much time has passed when Tim tells him to run. This lets the reader experience the speed of the event at their own pace. Card says, “The process of world creation should have changed many aspects of your main character, just as character development changes the world. At some point you begin to wonder why your main character ever came to this place” (64). After each revision of the story this quote became one of my main tools. Have you ever read one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books? Your choices in the story either furthers the adventure or ends it. 11 Sonny Lawr If I had kept Vic at his dealer’s house instead of changing locations and developing characters, the story ends. Without finding the action within something as simple as a piece of graffiti, the story either ends or finds a less effective path. Having no sense of time in the tunnels allows the reader not only to experience how cut off the tunnels feel but also gives me room to play with the tunnel in future revisions. I want to wrap this introduction up with a bit of truth. I wrote the first draft of this story about three years ago. Since then, all I have done is talk about it. I get excited talking about it, yet I have not even once sat down and added to it. I couldn’t see the next step. I went to class, I listened to the lessons, I did the homework, but I never really sat down and tried to fine-tune a story. I honestly had my goal set at getting my M.A., and then finding a job. I have never thought for a second that I was good enough to tell a story let alone draft a book. Until now. 12 Sonny Lawr Works Cited Card, Orson Scott, et al. Writing Fantasy & Science Fiction: How to Create out-of-This-World Novels and Short Stories. Cincinnati, OH, Writer’s Digest Books, 2013. Goodkind, Terry. Wizard’s First Rule. New York City, Tor, 1995. Dohaa the Explorer. “I Met the Mole People Who Live Below Las Vegas Tunnels.” YouTube, 21 May 2024, www.youtube.com/watch?v=wmIYF3pLkc8. “Life in the Tunnels beneath Las Vegas: ‘I Came down Here to Be Forgotten.’” YouTube, The Guardian, 22 Nov. 2017, youtu.be/LYvThk5kY5I?si=Gts46FWz8zTNWhU0. The Host. Directed by Niccol, Andrew, performances by Saoirse Ronan, Jake Abel, Max Irons, Frances Fisher, Chandler Canterbury, Diane Kruger, and William Hurt, Eagle Pictures, 2013. Rowling, J. K.. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. New York, Scholastic, 1999. Thompson, Hunter S. Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream. New York, Vintage Books, 2010. Tolkien, J. R. R. The Hobbit, or There and Back Again. New York, Del Rey, 2020. Tucker, Jessica. “What’s Going on in the Tunnels under Las Vegas?” The Travel, 21 July 2024, www.thetravel.com/las-vegas-tunnels/. 13 Sonny Lawr One Thunder Run was a stupid name for a tunnel. The tunnels in Vegas were plagued with graffiti. Most of it was faded or poorly done, but Thunder Run, even though it was painted in a god awful green, never faded. Of all the names graffitied on the wall, this is the one that stuck. Vic didn’t have to wonder why the artist chose this name because he knew that world was full of cruel people that looked down their noses at those who had nothing. Thunder Run was part of a massive system of storm drains that protected Las Vegas from flash flooding. A large number of the homeless population called these tunnels home. A few years back, there was a heavy rain storm that flooded the tunnel, killing six people. Most of the time, when the tunnels flooded, it was only ankle deep. If you had legs on your bed, you could sit and wait the storm out, but depending on how deep in the tunnel you lived, that decision to stay could cost you your life. A trickle of water could easily become a raging river. The mole people was a nickname for tunnel dwellers in Las Vegas. Another nickname that Vic hated that was given out by the citizens of Vegas. Still down here there was only a few absolute rules amongst the mole people. First, announce yourself, up top if someone were to 14 Sonny Lawr walk through the middle of your house uninvited you would protect your home. It was no different down in the dark of the tunnels. Most people down in the tunnels had weapons for selfdefense, and deaths in the tunnels were rarely investigated. Second, mind your own business. You walk through someone’s spot, and you don’t know them, keep walking. A wandering eye could be a justifiable reason for self-defense in the tunnel. Third, find your own spot. Fights over who owned what spot in the tunnel almost immediately became violent. Fourth, if you saw or heard water flowing on the ground, it was time to leave. Getting out could mean life or death. It was common sense to figure out where all the exits were. Vic did not care about the danger because it meant he was free. Free from a life where having an addiction was dangerous. Well, at least his kind of addiction. Up in the millions of flashing lights that was Las Vegas, most addictions were legal. Gambling, prostitution, and drinking yourself stupid were all legal. Yet in Sin City public swearing, drugs, and being a vagrant was against the law. This fact pushed addicts and the homeless underground in order to avoid being arrested. Vic had come to the tunnel’s edge to check the sky. You couldn’t check the weather once you headed into the tunnel as there was no cellular service. The sky was crystal clear, and it was warm enough outside if Vic wanted to, he could sleep under the stars. Vic looked down into the darkness of the tunnel. “I best get back. Maybe Tim has made it home,” muttered Vic. Vic had been living in the tunnels for two years. He had come to Vegas as a way of escaping his past. Then someone at the casino had offered him pure joy lined out on a mirror. Vic thought, “It’s funny how people talk about how good Methamphetamine makes you feel, but they 15 Sonny Lawr don’t talk about how much of yourself you have to give away just to maintain that feeling.” Vic shook his head. He couldn’t remember what he was trying to escape from anymore. He remembered that he used to live in the Ozark Mountains, but that was about it. He couldn’t remember the town he was from. Also, he couldn’t remember if he had parents, friends, loved ones that were left behind. They say that if you stare into the abyss for too long, something might stare back, but those who live in the abyss will just tell you that the darkness eats your memories. The lack of light is what Vic loved about this place. Within the shadows, he found a type of anonymity he had always wanted. Within the shadows, all your problems faded away like an echo in the abyss. Vic had not left the tunnels in over a year. Except for a day or two due to heavy rain, but he never strayed far. He had not seen himself in so long that he had forgotten what he looked like. Vic flipped his head lamp on and headed back into the tunnel. It was about a two-mile journey to get to his spot. It was not an easy journey, and it would be impossible without light. The tunnel was littered with piles of garbage that had been washed in by floodwater. Shopping carts, clothing, trash, televisions, and all sorts of stuff were left where the water had decided not to carry them anymore. Vic had even heard that there was a car in one of the tunnels. There were also hypodermic needles everywhere. Certain spots were dubbed the restroom. You could smell those before you saw them, and they were almost always in a side tunnel. These things scared him more than the tunnels flooding. He had nightmares about a river full of needles and shit rolling over him. “Hello, is anyone there?” asked Vic. He had come upon a claimed spot. “Yup. That you Vic?” 16 Sonny Lawr This was Russ and Pam’s spot. Out of all the people in Thunder Run, they had been here the longest. They had been living down here for ten years, and they sort of enforced the rules. More like it, if you were no longer welcome in this tunnel, you wouldn’t make it past their home. Russ and Pam were always carrying a gun, and both of them have been known to use it. They were an odd couple. While Russ was a whisp of a tall man with blonde disheveled hair, Pam was short and overweight and constantly died her eyebrows, yet she always wore a beanie that made it impossible to guess her hair color. They seemed very meek and humble, unless they had to draw their weapons. They also had the uncanny ability to know everyone’s location at any given time. “Sure is, Russ. Just passing through on the way home.” “Well go on then. You may pass. By the way, you won’t run into many moles. Most are top side. Teena is at home. Skillz is passed out on a junk pile couch. You probably can walk right by on that one. Scatz is off his medication, and down in restroom three. Sneak by if you can. He is ranting about something or another.” “Thanks Russ. I’ll be on my way.” From behind a curtain came the voice of Pam, “Ask him about the shitter.” “Vic, before you go. Do you know who is shitting in the main?” “I couldn’t tell you.” “Keep an eye out. Hey, if I see Tim, do you want me to tell him you went home already?” “No matter to me, Russ.” Vic gave a wave and started back down the tunnel. 17 Sonny Lawr Teena was the resident artist. She painted in complete darkness, but somehow when a light was cast on the wall, there was a beautiful painting. Teena never spoke, or at least he had never heard her voice. Her art work was voice enough. Skillz was a heroin addict. He would betray any information about anyone just so he wouldn’t feel sick. Scatz was insane. He was sure that everyone wanted to kill him. To protect himself he would rub feces all over his body. It had the desired effect, no one got near him. Occasionally he would attack someone with his knife for no reason at all. If he cut you, hepatitis was a real danger. Vic approached Teena’s spot and called out, “Anyone there?” Then he turned out his light. Immediately he could hear the sound of a spray paint bottle. He was ok to pass. He turned on his light and covered it just enough to see the way forward. Fifty yards later he uncovered the light. He immediately spotted Skillz passed out on the couch, and quietly slipped by. Vic was a few hundred feet from his spot when he heard Scatz in the side tunnel. He was speaking to himself. “Scatz skit scat keeps away the dangerous rat.” Silence followed. After a few more steps, Vic heard, “Scatz skit scat look at Vic. He don’t know where he’s at. Run little man and that ends that.” Not wanting to tussle with Scatz, Vic increased his pace. He heard Scatz start screaming like a wild animal as he rounded the bend that told him he was almost home. When he reached his spot, he turned on a few lights to make sure Scatz was not following him. 18 Sonny Lawr He wondered how long it would take Tim to return. Tim was the only true friend Vic ever had. When Vic first came to the tunnels, Tim had taught him the ways of living under the city of Vegas. Tim was blue eyed with blonde hair. His average build and kind voice made people feel at ease around him. The last time there was a river in the tunnel, Vic had saved Tim’s life. Tim had been knocked on the head by a passing dresser just as they made the entrance to the tunnel. Vic jumped in the water and pulled him to the shore. Since then, they had considered each other brothers. Vic was fortunate to have a friend in the tunnels. Vic hated going up top for any reason. He had given up on people, and Tim would leave daily to make money in order to get them drugs and supplies. Vic had never had a better friend. Tim would tell Vic stories about his life. Why he started using drugs, how he lost his family, and other obscure reasons that made Tim come into the tunnel. Vic told Tim he had no stories he could remember. In fact, the only story Vic could remember was the one thing he refused to talk about. In this memory, there was a girl lying on the ground with dead eyes. She was missing part of her head from what Vic thought was a gunshot. She looked at him accusingly as if to say “This is your fault,” but he could not remember if it was. This singular memory was the main reason he chose to live in the darkness. If it was his fault, then the punishment would be his own. Sitting on his bed, Vic began to cry quietly until he fell asleep. --Vic woke up disoriented and called out, “Tim?” Vic waited a few minutes but heard no reply. Vic looked around. Two of the light’s batteries had died making the tunnel barely visible. Vic suddenly remembered Tim had left to 19 Sonny Lawr meet his dealer. Vic was coming down and did not feel too good, but luckily, he kept an emergency stash. Even in the low light, he knew what to do. As he gathered his kit, he wondered it this was the same as Teena’s painting abilities. His ritual was just as addictive as the high. It was sacred and he never missed a step. He cleared a spot on his makeshift table. Th pulled out his little black shaving kit that held what he needed. He unzipped it and pulled out his spoon. He sterilized the spoon with an alcohol wipe. He then retrieved a Q-tip from the kit and pulled off a bit of cotton that he rolled into a ball about half the size of a pea. He then reached for the kit and pulled out a one-ounce container that carried purified water and set it next to the spoon. Only after these steps would he open a new needle and set it on the other side of the spoon. He always used a new needle. He didn’t understand why anyone would do so otherwise. To him this process was like waking up as the completion of each step made his heat beat faster and faster with anticipation. Vic froze when he heard the shuffle of someone walking. He peered of into the dim light and asked, “Hello?” “Tim, is that you?” Vic sat there listening for a while and decided he was alone. Vic picked up a bag gently and opened it. Instantly he could smell the dope. At that moment, his mouth began to water with excitement. He reached into his kit and pulled out a scooper which he used to transfer the dope into the spoon. He picked up his syringe and drew water into it then squirted it in the spoon. Hands trembling, he mixed up the dope, put the cotton in the spoon, and pulled it up into the syringe. Sticking the needle into his vein he plunge his liquid pleasure into his blood stream and pulled the needle out. It did not take long. He was just 20 Sonny Lawr setting the needle down when the drug hit him like a heavyweight boxer. He sat in the dark as wave after wave of euphoria washed over him. Vic could hear the roar of his heartbeat in his ears. Each beat like a drum of thunder that shook the darkness around him. He squirmed on his blanket feeling the texture against his skin. Every sensation contributed to the joy that coursed through him. In the first ten minutes after shooting up was the only time he felt like this. It was all he ever wanted, and being in the tunnels was a fair price to pay. “Are you ok?” Vic screamed as he was startled at the sound. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you ok?” Vic stammered, “Where the hell have you been? I had to use my emergency stash.” The blood still pumped loudly in his ears. Vic peered intensely but could only make a basic outline in the dim lit tunnel. “I have been with you for a while. I was watching.” “Why the fuck would you be watching…” Vic trailed off. This was not Tim. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my spot?” asked Vic. The man seemed to move around just out of sight. “Change is coming.” “What the fuck? Leave before I kill you,” screamed Vic. 21 Sonny Lawr Adrenaline started coursing through Vic’s body amplifying the sound in his ears. Vic grabbed his flashlight and stood up. He flicked it on, and the light peeled back the darkness. He searched for the speaker, but nothing was there. He froze and was confused. There was nowhere the speaker could have hidden. Further down the tunnel, Vic saw a flashlight bobbing rapidly. “Coward,” thought Vic. It was normal for people to mess with the homeless in the tunnel but not this far in. Let him run. Vic turned off his light and sat back on to the bed. Vic realized after he sat down that the bobbing flashlight was coming towards him. After a minute he realized the holder of the flashlight was yelling. At first is sounded like a disembodied voice because of the tunnel’s acoustics. As the light got closer, Vic started to make out what they were saying. “Vic, you need to have fun!” “What?” yelled Vic. “I was having fun until that man started talking to me.” Vic flipped back on his flashlight and looked around for the man. “Vic, you need fun!” “What do you mean fun?” Vic yelled back. With the blood still roaring through Vic’s ears, he could not hear much. If this man was so intent on fucking with him, it was time to beat his ass. He went to his bag and pulled out a set of brass knuckles. He stood up and squared off. When the bobbing flashlight finally reached him, he realized it was Tim. Tim was trying to catch his breath. “Vic, we need to run.” “What? Why? Is it the man that was talking to me?” Tim nearly yelled, “What man? Vic, did you not hear the thunder?” Tim continued, “You know what thunder means. We probably don’t have a lot of time.” 22 Sonny Lawr “Wait!” Vic said annoyed, “I went and checked the sky. It is clear as day.” Tim answered, “It came out of nowhere. The storm wasn’t there and then it just was, but we have to go right now!” Vic saw Tim’s fear, and it was enough. “Do we have time to go back the way you came?” Tim shook his head. “No, we have to go deeper.” Tim put his hand on Vic’s shoulder and said, “Run!” “What a stupid name for a tunnel,” thought Vic as they started running. The next exit was a ladder to the street by the Bellagio Casino. It wasn’t long before the water reached them. It was only about an inch deep, but Vic knew that would soon change. They made it another hundres yards when there was a knee-high surge of water that knocked them to the ground. As they stood up and start surging forward, Vic saw hundreds of floating needles rushing by. Vic thought, “This is disgusting. This is unreal.” He stopped running. His mind started racing. “This isn’t real. I checked the sky. It was clear. This is nothing but a bad trip,” thought Vic. Vic said it out loud, “I am tripping. This is a hallucination.” At that moment a rusted-out bicycle frame slammed into Vic, knocking him into the water. The current carried him ten feet before Tim pulled him to his feet and yelled, “This is real. Get moving.” Vic laughed sadly. “Then were dead!” 23 Sonny Lawr As if on cue another surge of water slammed through the tunnel, sweeping both Vic and Tim away. They clung to each other as they tried to avoid the debris. Shopping carts, clothes, and even Pam’s dresser slammed into them as they tried to stay afloat. All of a sudden, Tim yelled, “The ladder!” Tim reached out with one hand and caught a rung of the ladder, and with the other hand he caught Vic’s wrist. Vic could see that Tim was struggling with all his might as he pulled Vic to the ladder and yelled, “Climb!” Vic started to climb the ladder. Each rung took its toll on him. When he reached the top, as a reward a heavy grate stood in his way. He pushed with all of his might, until the grate opened and crashed into the cement. He climbed out and turned to help Tim climb out, sticking his hand down the hole, but there was no one there. Just a raging river of water that drowned out his scream as exhaustion over took him. His hand was still in the hole when Vic lost consciousness. 24 Sonny Lawr Two Something was chasing Vic through the city. It was always just out of sight, but he knew it was there. He was afraid to encounter this beast, this evil. He had been running for what seemed like an eternity. He only saw the eyes as they looked right into his soul. Full of hate and rage. What scared him the most was what he could not see, but the eyes were enough to turn his blood cold. He heard a loud crash a few hundred feet away. It had caught up to him. He turned to run and realized that he was cut off. There was no escape. He saw the whisp like arm round the corner. The arm looked like a thick fog with no solid form, and it was moving towards him. He knew the eyes were next, but the arm kept stretching towards him. Vic scrambled for a door when the arm suddenly moved like lightning and pinned him to the ground. The mist as solid as iron crawled up his body, making Vic start to pray to a god he didn’t believe in. The arm stopped at his mouth and cut off his oxygen. He accepted the fact that he was going to die. He opened his mouth to scream, and the arm moved in tasting of death. He started to gag on the evil that poured in. Vic started to fade… 25 Sonny Lawr Vic awoke from his nightmare to find a man standing over him. Vic was gagging as the man drew away to the other side of the room. The man started to talk to Vic, but his voice was drowned out by the confusion in Vic’s mind. “Did you just have your fucking finger in my throat?” screamed Vic. The man’s eyes beamed. “No, not my fingers.” He held up a pencil. “Where is Tim, and who are you?” Vic asked. Looking around the room, Vic realized he was in a psyche ward. He had been in one a year or so ago. He hated these places. Doctors often confused addiction with mental disorders. It had been one of the many reasons he never left Thunder Run. “Who is Tim?” the man asked. “He is a friend. They would have brought him in with—” Vic suddenly remembered the flooding tunnel “—me.” Vic remembered that Tim had vanished in the water. Vic started to tear up, hoping beyond hope that Tim was alive. “Oh! Oh! Oh! You asked who I am,” stated the strange man. “I am Ralphie.” Ralphie looked to the ceiling for a moment then said, “Ok, I will ask.” He looked back to Vic and asked, “Why do you look like a skeleton? Do you know what I am supposed to do? Who’s Tim? Wait I already asked that. Do you know why the sky is not blue anymore?’ “Umm, ya know what, Ralphie? I don’t know.” Vic had met people like Ralphie before in the tunnels. Skatz was the same, always talking to someone that no one else could see. He knew if he answered any of his questions this conversation would never end, and Vic just wanted to be left alone. 26 Sonny Lawr Daring to ask another question, Vic asked, “Where am I?” “That’s easy. You are on the bed.” “No Ralphie, what is the place called?” “Ohhhhhhhhhhh,” Ralphie pointed first to the M then the U that was written on his clothes, “Mental…Unit.” “Ok, Ralphie, how long have I been here, and when can I see a doctor?” The man started rocking. “Three days, you came on Wednesday, which is pudding night. You will probably see the doctor on Monday. There is no therapy on the weekends.” “Fuck,” Vic said, “I need to know why I am here.” “Me too,” said Ralphie, “but no one knows what I am supposed to do. Maybe you do?” Vic ignored Ralphie for the moment and laid back down on the bed. He wondered how long it would be this time. He had been in this situation before on a few occasions, a methinduced psychosis is what they will call it. The only thing left to do was wait for the doc to show. Ralphie looked anxiously at Vic. “Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me.” Ralphie started chanting, “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.” “Tell you what, Ralphie?’ “What I am supposed to do to change the world? I have been waiting for a long time to find out,” said Ralphie. Vic stared at him for a bit, confused by the question then said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 27 Sonny Lawr Ralphie looked defeated as he sat down on his bed. Vic knew what Ralphie was, and a paranoid schizophrenic could be quite dangerous. The tunnels were full of them. Vic was not going to pussyfoot around Ralphie and his problems. All of a sudden Ralphie sung out, “Then Ralphie will do something no one else had ever done before. They will see when I change the world” said Ralphie as he rocked back and forth, “I will catch that memory, and they will see.” All of a sudden, Ralphie balled up his fist and started punching himself in the head. With lips quivering and tears welling up in his eyes he angrily started talking. “Think, think, think,” he said in cadence with his punches. “Then Ralphie will do something no one else had ever done before.” Vic watched the anguish that watched over Ralphie. When Ralphie suddenly sobbed, “Ralphie cannot figure it out by himself.” In an instant, Ralphie gained his composure and looked straight at Vic. There was burning hatred in Ralphie’s eyes. Vic thought, “Maybe, I could use a little restraint.” “Hey Ralph, my boy, when do they let us out of our room?” asked Vic. Suddenly Ralphie charged Vic from across the room while swinging his arms violently. Vic kicked Ralphie in the stomach. Ralphie doubled over and fell to his side clenching his gut. Ralphie turned his head to look at Vic and spoke, but in a voice that clearly wasn’t his. “If you call me Ralph again, I will wait until you fall asleep and then show you one small change I can make in the world, and no amount of fireflies will save you.” 28 Sonny Lawr Almost instantly Ralphie’s innocent demeanor returned. “Ralphie is the name and changing is the game.” Ralphie walked back to his bed and sat down. Vic watched as Ralphie acted as if nothing had just happened. A few moments later the door to the room was opened. A man walked in and after spotting Vic said, “Great, you’re awake! I’m Grant, the ward nurse. You have been out cold for about three days now. When you are ready, dinner is served, and the rec room is open. I do not think the doctor has left for the weekend yet. I will let him know you’re up.” Grant looked at Ralphie, “Go on now.” And with that Ralphie scuttled right past the man and out the door. “Do you know what happened to my friend Tim?” Vic asked. “I wouldn’t know. Maybe Doctor Merv knows something. Let’s go find him for you,” Grant said as he walked out the door. # Vic walked out into the hall. It smelled like meatloaf and antiseptic. He looked down the hall and spotted the nurse’s desk. Grant was talking to another man. Vic walked to the desk and listened to the conversation. “Can’t we just call his cell?” asked Grant. “No, he left it here when he was clocking out,” said a bald man. “Well, if he calls, tell him the new patient in room 267 is awake.” “Will do.” 29 Sonny Lawr Grant looked to Vic, “We barely missed the doctor, but he may come back. By the way, when you came in you had no identification. Once you have eaten and had time to acclimate, why don’t you come find me, so I can get your information?” Grant pointed and said, “That’s the dinner hall, and over there is the rec room. We have television, foosball, and ping pong. Keep your hands to yourself, don’t throw tantrums, and we will get along just fine. I have to do rounds, and I will see you in a bit.” With that Grant turned and walked away while swinging his keys like a cowboy in a western. Vic walked into the dining hall. He laughed when he opened the door. Places like this gave rooms names that didn’t fit. The dining hall was nothing but a couple fold-up picnic tables with attached benches, a station with plastic cutlery, and a box that had paper salt and pepper packets. A rack held trays of food that had been wrapped tightly in saran wrap. As Vic grabbed a tray, he laughed again. It was meatloaf. After he had finished his food, he went to the rec room. He didn’t have television in the tunnels. In fact, he hadn’t watched television since the last time he had been in a place like this. As he walked into the room, he noticed a man chewing on the foosball ball, and Ralphie was playing ping pong with the wall. Vic went to the couch to watch television. The Muppet Show was on, but he wanted to watch the news. There were no knobs or buttons on the television. Vic asked Ralphie, “How do I change the channel?” “Residents aren’t allowed to touch the T.V. at all,” answered Ralphie. Vic went to find Grant, but the bald man told him Grant had gone on break. Vic went back to his room and laid down. He was thinking about the tunnel. He wondered about Russ, Pam, Teena, Skillz, and Scatz. Had they gotten out of the tunnel? Were they in a place like this? 30 Sonny Lawr What had happened to Tim? Vic was sure he was right behind him on the way up the ladder. Why hadn’t he called out? They were brothers. Vic would have died for him. He needed to leave this place to find answers, but all he could do was hurry up and wait. # The eyes burned red threating to envelope his soul. It moved closer as Vic tried to make his feet to move, but they felt like bags of cement, and they wouldn’t budge. Vic screamed, “What do you want?” A reply came, “Revenge.” Vic sat up screaming. Another nightmare—he must have dozed off. Ralphie was on his bed staring at him. He noticed the door was shut. Ralphie went to his desk and started drawing. “We’re in for the night,” Ralphie stated without turning around. Vic laid back down and watched Ralphie draw. When he first encountered Ralphie, Vic thought a slight breeze would knock him over. When he had become angry his stature had changed. His shoulders had squared as fire raged in his eyes. He seemed to grow taller, and Vic could swear his black hair moved like fire. However, it was the eyes that had scared him the most. They reminded him of his nightmare. Not even the scariest of dopeheads had eyes that dead. His ability to switch his personality was nothing new to Vic. This man was obviously dangerous. Why would they house him with this man? He was clearly insane. He had dealt with insanity before, but that came with the territory when staying up for multiple days on end under the streets of Vegas. Whether it was Vic, Tim, or another mole person who had lost touch with 31 Sonny Lawr reality, it was always temporary, except for Scatz. Ralphie on the other hand had scared the shit out of him. When Ralphie had lost his temper, he had completely changed his physical form, and Vic had never seen that before. Vic decided to sit on his bed with his back to the wall so he could keep an eye on Ralphie. He was a little relieved that Ralphie had not spoken since his outburst, but he knew it would not last. As he looked around the room, he noticed that Ralphie had pictures on the wall. They were obviously hand drawn. Vic decided he would be the one to break the silence in order to gain favor with Ralphie. A compliment might make it less likely that Ralphie would do anything malicious. “Hey, Ralphie. I have a question for you.” Ralphie looked up at him but said nothing. Vic gestured towards the drawings. “Did you draw those? They are incredibly good.” Ralphie nodded but did not reply. Knowing he needed to get him to talk, Vic asked him a question he would have to answer. “I have never seen a bug like that. What are they?” Ralphie shot off of his bed excited. “Those are Fireflies. They are the keepers.” “I would keep them too. They are very well drawn.” Ralphie looked annoyed at his statement. “No, No, No! The pictures are not keepers…well they are but that’s not what I meant. The Fireflies ARE the keepers.” “Keepers of what?” asked Vic. 32 Sonny Lawr “I don’t remember,” said Ralphie. “I know it is important.” Ralphie started to rock back and forth again. Vic decided to back off, thinking any conversation with Ralphie could become unstable, but Ralphie snapped out of it and started talking. “Everything that I cannot remember is the same thing! Well, they are different things but somehow, they are all connected. I just cannot remember.” Vic understood not remembering. He could remember fleeing through the tunnel with Tim, but what happened to him seemed just out of reach. He could remember Tim on the ladder, and reaching down to help Tim up, and seeing that Tim wasn’t there. What bothered Vic was that from the start of the climb to him reaching down for Tim happened in less than a minute. Sure, the water could have swept him away, but Tim was strong. He could have held on to that ladder for a long time. It was like he just vanished. “If you want, I can tell you what I do remember, but it is scary,” Ralphie said interrupting his thought. “I can handle scary,” said Vic. “I am all ears.” “I remember the pain of being burned by ten thousand fireflies.” “Fireflies don’t have the ability to burn anyone, Ralphie.” “You don’t want to listen, so Ralphie won’t tell you.” Ralphie suddenly turned around and started laughing. He went and laid down on his bed and faced the wall, saying nothing more. Vic was irritated. He had nothing to do but watch Ralphie lie there. ### 33 Sonny Lawr In the morning breakfast consisted of biscuits and gravy with scrambled eggs made from powdered eggs. Grant sat down at the table and took Vic’s information while he ate. After Grant left, Vic sat at the table thinking about home. He longed to see the graffiti; he longed for the crazy he was used to. He was feeling the effects of being off of his drug for so long. All he wanted to do was find Tim and get high. Vic knew he was about to cry. He decided to go to his room and take a shower. It’s the best way to hide tears. As he passed the rec room, he glanced in, and he froze as his gaze passed over the window. The sky was purple. He didn’t dare ask anyone if they were seeing what he was seeing. It would just confirm to them that he was crazy. All of a sudden, he remembered a question Ralphie had asked him about the sky not being blue anymore. After a short search, he found Ralphie in the room. “Ralphie, what color is the sky?” he asked. “Blue,” answered Ralphie. Vic let out a sigh of relief. “Well,” said Ralphie, “at least until last week when the storm hit. Some of the doctors thought they were going crazy as me. I told them that was just not possible.” Vic shook his head. “I don’t believe it.” Ralphie laughed. “Yeah, no one is crazier than me…except maybe you. I may be crazy, but I would never kill a friend.” Vic looked at Ralphie, confused. 34 Sonny Lawr “You’re so talkative when you sleep, Vic. That’s why I love watching you sleep. You keep asking about your friend Tim. But when you’re asleep you keep apologizing for killing him.” A flood of memories invaded Vic’s mind. He remembered that he was climbing the ladder when a sharp searing pain had traveled up his leg causing him to scream. He looked down to see Tim grabbing his leg. Tim’s hands were lit up like the color of the moon, and Vic’s leg felt like it was on fire. He had screamed at Tim to let his leg go. When Tim had not released his leg, Vic kicked him repeatedly in the face to escape the pain in his leg. The last kick sent Tim into the water, and he was swept away. Vic struck Ralphie across the face. “You son of a bitch. Why did you make me remember that? Why?” Vic moved away from Ralphie and sat on his bed crying. Ralphie sat on his bed and looked at the wall as if he could see through it. He sat this way for some time before looking up at Vic. His eyes had changed again to his vacant look. Only this time there was no rage in them. My memories are always burning. At the beginning they burn. To give a memory is a gift. Vic was a little leery because the voice coming from Ralphie was completely different. Dealing with different personalities was one thing but this seemed like a completely different person. Vic still needed to get through this conversation. He decided that to be safe he would have to pretend not to notice the change in Ralphie. Vic was still in shock, “This memory was no gift.” 35 Sonny Lawr All memories are a gift, Vic. They give you purpose. “Oh! Fuck you, Ralphie, fuck you. You remember that you killed someone that was your brother, and then call it a gift. Oh, wait, you can’t remember shit.” I just keep the memories away from Ralphie. I remember everything. “That makes no sense because you are Ralphie.” I have seen the unseen world. I know it to be real. You will bring death to both the unseen world and this one. Ralphie’s innocent demeanor returned as he suddenly stood. He started dancing and singing, “Vic, Vic, you might be him. He said you’re lying and we’re near the end. Up and in, down and out, the world will change without a doubt.” All of a sudden Ralphie froze in his tracks and looked directly at Vic. Vic shuddered because there were two people staring at him through one set of eyes. # Vic heard it crashing around while it went from room to room looking for him. Luckily, he had found a hiding place in the attic. Still, he sat there trembling. How did it always know where he was? It was always chasing him. He had no idea where it came from, but he sure wished it would move on. All of a sudden, the noise ceased. After what seemed like an eternity Vic crept down from the attic. There was destruction everywhere he looked. He walked lightly through the debris while trying not to make any sound. Then he felt it. A shudder went up his spine and he knew he 36 Sonny Lawr was not alone. He turned and saw those burning red eyes right behind him. Moving lightning quick the monster wrapped its wispy arms around Vic’s throat and started to choke him… The first thing that Vic realized was that he couldn’t breathe. Something was choking him. As he cracked his eyes, he realized Ralphie was on top of him with his hands wrapped around his throat. Vic tried to fight him off, but his hands were pinned under his blanket. Without looking, Vic knew they were glowing the heat that came off them burned his sides. Ralphie was chanting, “My name is Ralphie, and you’re the one.” Vic tried bucking Ralphie off but to no avail. He started to see colors in the air. At first, he thought the cause was the lack of oxygen due to the choking. Then he realized the colors were illuminating Ralphie’s face. His hands shone so bright the light pierced the blanket. Suddenly he could breathe again, yet Ralphie had not moved. Vic stared in horror as Ralphie started to disappear. Trying to catch his breath, Vic launched a punch at his roommate, but his hand passed right through him. Ralphie smiled all of a sudden and said, “I know how I am going to change the world. See you soon.” Pain began to pulse through Vic’s body. He convulsed on the bed. Purple light emanated from every limb as the pain amplified with every new wave of light. He went to scream, but no sound left his mouth. As quickly as it had begun the pain left him. He crashed into his bed and began sobbing. Before he lost consciousness, he heard a clear voice in his head that he knew wasn’t his. We are trapped. I told you. Unpredictable magic yields unpredictable results. He is in control and there is nothing we can do about it. 37