crack in the sky (1995/2012) · · 2018-04-09feel free to annotate or take notes, ... of cow poop...

Mr. Hazeltine English / Writing Lab

The Truman Show (1998): Director: Peter Weir

Writer: Andrew Niccol Truman Burbank: Jim Carrey

Meryl Burbank/Hannah Gill: Laura Linney Marlon: Noah Emmerich

Christof: Ed Harris

This document contains sensitive, confidential, and trade secret information and may not be disclosed to third parties without the prior written consent of Christopher Lawrence Hazeltine

Crack in the Sky (1995/2012) Author: Deb Houdek Rule

NAME: ____________________________________________ Instructions: You will be reading and watching two versions of a similar story. Begin by reading the story and using the graphic organizers to analyze the story for its concept, character, setting, and literary devices. Then, watch the film and compare and contrast the two stories. Feel free to annotate or take notes, because you’ll need to keep track of a lot of information to accomplish this task.

Crack In the Sky

by Deb Houdek Rule

©2012 Deb Houdek Rule Publishing on Smashwords

Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9849558-3-1 Crack In the Sky ©1995 D. A. Houdek (Deb Houdek Rule)

Open Enrollment ©1993 D. A. Houdek (Deb Houdek Rule) Originally published in InterdiMENSionAl Journal, reprinted in Galactic Citizen Winter 1995 issue, reprinted in Jackhammer July 1998

Walking the Edge ©1989 D. A. Houdek (Deb Houdek Rule) Originally published in Jackhammer, April 1998

Ghosts ©1990 D. A. Houdek (Deb Houdek Rule) Originally published in Wellspring literary magazine, summer issue 1991 (in a shorter form). Reprinted in full length in Galactic Citizen, summer issue 1995

The Eternal City ©1993 D. A. Houdek (Deb Houdek Rule) Those We Left Behind ©1995 D. A. Houdek/Deb Houdek Rule

Originally published in Millennium, Best of Millennium, and Private Galaxy Viking-Trojan War ©1994 D. A. Houdek Rule (Deb Houdek Rule)

Crack In the Sky

“Crack In the Sky” was written a few years before the movie The Truman Show was made. Alas, the similarities of the movie to my story and scenario kept Crack In the Sky from being

published. The world of the Time Preserves returns in the story “Starman Joshua,” in the collection Call of the Stars. –DAHR

Bobby kicked at the car seat and decided to change his name to “Skylark”. Dad had vetoed “Spock” as his new name, but Skylark wasn’t a TV name, so it had to be okay. Bobby was tired of having the same name as a Brady Bunch kid, especially a dorky one, not like the cool older kid, Greg. Maybe Dad would go for “Greg” as a new name...

“You stop kicking that seat or I’m turning this car around right now,” Dad’s voice came sharply over the back of the station wagon’s blue plastic seat. The car swayed like a motor boat as Dad turned to shake his finger at Bobby.

Bobby quit kicking the seat, slouching down with a sullen pout on his face. Abandoning his name- change line of thought, he turned toward his sister Laura, deciding to mimic everything she did. In a minute or so she’d be yelling for Mom to make him stop.

Matching Laura’s squint-eyed glare to the millimeter, Bobby worked on prying the buckle of the seatbelt out from the crack in the seat. He used it to store important things. Might be some gum, or a piece of candy stashed in there. Maybe, if he was lucky, that old spider he’d put in there would still be alive and he could drop it down Laura’s top. It was tough to do while staring at Laura and matching her ever- more-annoyed movements, but Bobby was a grand master.

Nothing, just a piece of already chewed gum too dry and dirty to revive. “Stop it,” Laura cried. “Stop it,” Bobby repeated. “Both of you, stop it,” Mom injected from the front seat. The metal buckle snapped as Bobby considered the entertainment possibilities of

the dry gum. Maybe he could get Laura to eat it. “Bobby,” sounded the warning gun from Mom in the front seat. “I hear what

you’re doing. You put that seatbelt back under the seat where it belongs.” “You’re asking for a spanking, young man,” Dad added. Surrendering, Bobby turned toward the window, watching the blur of scenery slide

by. It looked kinda like the stars that streaked past the Enterprise in warp drive, only the blur was in green smears as they went to grandma’s house out in the country. The smell of cow poop filled the car. Laura grabbed her nose to hold it closed.

“Laura let one,” Bobby announced. “Mom!” “Bobby,” the warning tone sounded again. “Just smell that fresh country air,” Mom said happily. Mom always said that. Next Dad would say, “Yup, smells like home.” Dad inhaled deeply. “Yup, smells like home.”

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It struck Bobby, not for the first time, that Mom and Dad were doing a rerun, like the umpteenth showing of a Star Trek episode, where Bobby and Laura would sit and chant the lines along with the show. There were other things like that, he realized, things they said and did the same way every time. It was the first Saturday of the month so they went to Grandma’s farm. They left at exactly the same time, drove exactly the same way, made exactly the same comments about the scenery. The only variations came from Bobby and Laura, and those were minor.

The car hit a bump and Dad made his perpetual comment about the potholes and weren’t they ever going to be fixed. Mom invoked her death-taxes-and-potholes lament.

Bobby sat up straighter in the seat, forgetting his campaign of harassment and intimidation against Laura. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the Ford’s high seatback, peering intently through the windshield. They’d be smelling fresh cut hay in a moment. If anything was inevitable, that was it. It was just the next thing coming up that Bobby was unsure of.

Staring hard, he concentrated on the sky above them. It was a deep blue, richer than the sky over their suburban home with its faint haze of smog. Crisp, fat clouds drifted in the blue, casting wandering shadows over the fields and pastures.

“Gosh darn it,” Bobby whispered, while thinking stronger, forbidden words to himself. It was there. It was the same cloud as six months ago. It wasn’t just that they were both big, puffy clouds of the same type. No sirree. This was exactly the same cloud. Right now it had a sort of dragon face on it. In a moment it would melt into a more bunny rabbit looking thing. The instant the bunny started to give a mushy sort of twitch of its nose Dad would announce “We’re here,” and they’d turn onto Grandma’s long driveway.

“We’re here.” The wagon slowed, turning onto the crunching gravel driveway that led up to the big, white farmhouse. Let’s see... the Saturday during August haying time Grandma would have a pitcher of lemonade waiting, and a plate of oatmeal cookies, no, those were the October cookies, a plate of molasses cookies. After that Bobby and Laura would be told to go play in the hay mow, later to be chastised for tracking hay into the house on their clothes. That’s what it would be, Bobby would bet his bb gun on it.

He sat back in the car seat, chewing thoughtfully on his lip. It was the clouds that had first struck him, but it had taken a long time for him to be sure. The first time he’d noticed the dragon/bunny cloud was at least six months ago. But then he’d seen it two months in a row. He thought maybe he was nuts. Until today.

The day progressed true to form. It was a good day, Bobby had to admit. There were new kittens in the hay loft and Grandma made a big pork roast with lots of potatoes and gravy. As always she encouraged him to take seconds and even thirds then tsk-tsked over how much a growing boy could eat. Then Grandma sat in her rocker on the porch and crocheted while Grandpa smoked a pipe and talked about “the good ole days.”

As the sun set over the fields, everyone kissed everyone else then they piled in the station wagon. Grandma hugged Bobby and called him her special boy. Grandpa huffed at that, saying, “he’ll do,” in that way that made Bobby feel he’d been given the best compliment ever. While Grandma and Grandpa waved at them they pulled away. Bobby didn’t look at them waving, though. He was staring at the sky.

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Laura fell asleep before they were halfway home. Bobby sat quietly, staring out the window at the darkness. Tinny music came from the radio while Mom and Dad talked.

Abruptly Bobby asked, “Dad. Can you stop for a minute?” “Stop what?” “The car, Dad. I want to get out for a minute.” Dad seemed as startled as Kirk would have been if Sulu told him to drop dead

when given an order. “Out?” he echoed. Bobby suppressed a grin. This wasn’t in the script. “Yeah. I gotta, you know,” he leaned forward and whispered, “take a leak.” “Oh, Bobby,” Mom mourned. “You should have thought of that before we left.” “Well, I didn’t and now I really gotta go.” To emphasize the point Bobby crossed

his legs and bounced up and down. “Puh-leeese,” he implored. “It will be all right,” he heard Mom whisper to Dad, “if he stays right by the car.” Bobby knew this stretch of road, despite the blurring as they drove by. It was flat

on either side of it, no deep ditches or fences. Just fields. Dad slowed the car and stopped. The headlights showed the road ahead. Everything else was black.

The back door didn’t turn on the dome light so there was only the dazzle of the headlights to be seen and the dull green glow of the instrument panel.

“Stay right by the car,” Mom called anxiously. Bobby dashed for the open field. Something hit him. Hard.

~~~ Bobby woke in his own bed. He had his pajamas on, the ones with the cowboys

and Indians on them. He couldn’t remember putting them on. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten into bed. Twisting, he sat up. It was dark outside. The door to his room was open a crack and he could hear the TV from the living room. “Heeeere’s Johnny!” a muted voice called and he heard Mom say, “I’m going to check on Bobby.”

A moment later Mom peeked in his door, then opened it wide, calling back to Dad, “He’s awake.” Turning on the lamp by his bedside, Mom sat down on the edge of the bed, ruffling his hair.

“How are you feeling?” she asked in that mom voice that immediately made him feel better, warmer, cozier.

“What happened?” he asked. His throat was dry and talking made his head hurt. “You hit an electric fence,” Dad’s low voice came from the doorway. “I don’t

know what you were thinking, running off like that.” “I just didn’t want to go by the car,” Bobby muttered, not looking at Dad’s stern

face. Mom ruffled his hair again and laid her smooth hand against his forehead. “Well,

you’re all right now. You go to sleep.” They crept away, closing his door behind them. Bobby lay for a long time, staring

at the shadows, thinking of clouds and electric fences. Absently, he hummed the Twilight Zone theme.

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After church the next morning Bobby changed out of his polyester bellbottoms with the matching shirt and vest and put on shorts and a T-shirt. Though Mom and Dad didn’t say anything he’d felt their eyes on him all morning. Now as he dashed toward the door Dad’s voice called him back.

“Where are you going, Bobby?” “Nowhere,” he answered defensively. He was going somewhere but he had the

funny feeling that he must not tell Dad. “Don’t go far,” Dad called as the screen door slammed. It was what Dad always

said. Today Bobby noticed it, realized he never had gone far. As Bobby raced across the astroturf yard (just like the Brady’s had) through the

hole in the hedge to the vacant lot next door he thought for the first time about the boundaries of his life. The hill behind the house climbed to a high concrete block sound wall that separated their neighborhood from the freeway. Along the next side were the train tracks with a deep ditch and wall forming an impenetrable barrier. The neighborhood kids had this vacant lot to play in and off to the third side a small park backed by a swampy pond. Looking at his home from a new perspective Bobby realized just how small the neighborhood was. There were two cul de sacs off the short street that connected to the highway. There was a little grocery store run by Pop Johnson that sold candy to the neighborhood kids and that was about it. It was too far to walk anywhere else. The school bus picked them up and took them in a blur to the school – they were the last to be picked up, the first to be let off.

Bobby stopped stock still and breathed hard. The kids in this neighborhood. There were boys and girls but they were all just three ages, four if you counted the babies. His age, Laura’s and bunch that were just a couple years older than he was. They were in the third, fifth, and seventh grades now. The kids in this little neighborhood made up about half of each class in school. Their classes had lunch at the same times, shared recesses and sports times. The other grades were there. He was sure they were but he couldn’t think of one single person he’d ever spoken to who was in one of them. They were like ghosts in the school, seen but never felt.

Bobby hunched down beneath a bush in his private little fort. His breath came hard and his heart pounded. Holy cow. Maybe they were all space aliens but him. Well, and Laura, though the little squirt could be alien enough at times. But what about Mom and Dad. He’d always just thought they were as dumb as most grownups but now he wondered. Maybe they were in on it... Whatever it was.

Cautiously, mindful that They might be watching (whoever They were), Bobby spent the afternoon prowling the borders of his world. He discovered that he could hear the freeway on the other side of the sound wall, but if he put his hands on the concrete blocks he couldn’t feel any vibrations. Surely big cars and trucks barreling down the road ought to shake things a bit. He couldn’t find any way to climb the wall and see over the top.

He crept down the embankment toward the railroad tracks. Just before the ditch was the fence, a chainlink one, that he was sure he could climb, except for the barbed wire top and the sheer drop-off to the ditch below. Again, he could see no way across.

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The swamp, well, he knew what the swamp looked like. They played along the edges but it turned into an impossible sucking muck further out. From the park they could see that it opened out to a pond further out, past the mud and cattails. Maybe he could make a raft, but how could he get past that sticky mud?

Maybe he was just being too clever. Hurrying back home, he ran in the side door to the garage and got his bike. It was a neat one with high-rise handlebars and a banana seat covered with smiley faces. Down the driveway and into the street he rode as fast as he could.

It was dusky out, not quite dark. Everyone was in for supper, so that pesky Mrs. Anderson at the end of the block wouldn’t be out front in her flowers to intercept any kids who dared near the highway. Bending low over the handlebars, Bobby stood up on the pedals and pumped as hard as he could. The street started its gentle climb up to the highway. How many houses on this street? Twenty? Surely there were more houses in the world. If he turned right on the highway and pedaled for a little ways he’d go over the freeway and there’d be another whole big subdivision where all the ghost kids at school lived. And they’d be just as real as he was.

He turned the corner. No cars were coming. The road climbed more steeply. He could hear the freeway.

And their parents would be just as uncool as his and they’d have brothers and sisters and grandparents who lived on farms.

He neared the top of the rise and could see the lights of the suburbs spread out before him.

And they’d think all clouds looked alike. And... Something hit him. Hard.

~~~ Bobby woke in a hospital room. The Partridge Family sang cheerfully from a little

black and white TV. His arm felt heavy. “He’s awake,” he heard Mom’s voice say. Turning he saw both Mom and Dad

coming toward him with worried looks on their faces. “What happened?” Bobby asked, feeling like he was the one in the rerun this

time. “Oh, Bobby,” his mother sniffled. Dad ruffled his hair gently, then said sternly, “You had us worried there, young

man. What were you thinking going off on the highway like that? You know you’re forbidden to do that.”

Bobby muttered something in his unintelligible apologetic tone. It never seemed to bother Mom or Dad that he didn’t really make words when he did this.

“That truck could have killed you,” Mom said. “Don’t ever, ever run off like that again.”

A truck? Bobby screwed his face up, trying to remember. He hadn’t seen no darned truck. Bobby sighed and tried to lift his arm. It didn’t cooperate.

“You came out of it with just a broken arm and a bump on the head. The doctor

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wants to check you out once more, then we can take you home.” Bobby didn’t answer. He was looking at the window, wondering what he’d see if

he pulled the curtains open. And if it was real. ~~~

There were only a couple weeks left before school started. For Bobby it felt like a deadline he had to beat. The first day Mom let him out of her sight he went out to the garage. His bike was there, smashed just like a truck had run it over. There were even black tire tracks on the banana seat. He leaned down close, running his hand against the bent metal. There’d been a place he’d been working at with his fingernail for a long time. He’d made a notch in the paint. It didn’t show, not unless you knew to look, but Bobby knew it was there, knew that it was his bike when he rubbed his finger over the spot.

This wasn’t his bike. Cradling the cast on his right arm, Bobby wondered what could have happened to

his bike that they couldn’t let him see it, couldn’t have just run it over with a truck. Bobby wandered outside. The neighbor kids weren’t in the vacant lot and he didn’t

see anyone playing basketball in the driveways that had hoops. He cut across lots toward the park.

Most of the older boys and a couple of the girls were there, goofing around. One boy had a cool new radio that got FM, ‘cept the only thing on FM was dull talk shows and old people’s music. So they switched back to one of the AM stations and sang along with Three Dog Night. “Jeremiah was a bullfrog” they bellowed in every imaginable key.

“No,” Bobby overheard Scott say to Mark, “I can’t come over tomorrow. It’s the third Sunday of the month. We always go to Grandma and Grandpa’s farm. Gotta go, you know.” Scott made a face. “But it’s kinda okay. Grandma always makes molasses cookies. And we get to play in the hay.”

Mark answered, “Yeah. I know what you mean. We were to our grandparent’s farm last Saturday. They had a new batch of kittens.”

A sudden wave of nausea swept over Bobby and he felt cold all through. He sat for a moment composing his thoughts. Moving to the radio, he turned it up louder.

“So, Kevin... when do you go to visit your grandma and grandpa?” “So, Marcia... when do you...?” “Keith...?” “Jody...?” One by one Bobby went around the group, asking when they went to visit their

grandparents. With a stick he drew a chart in the mud by the swamp, marking down what each said. About half the kids went to visit grandparents on a farm with a white house, molasses cookies in August, stories of the good ole days, and a grandma who crocheted. The other half went to grandparents who lived in a big old house in a small town. They had cinnamon rolls and played croquet in the back yard. A few kids had no grandparents, and the grandparents of a few lived far away.

As the others wandered off, the radio going with them, Bobby sat in the quietness by the swamp. The rumble of the freeway came faintly, mixed with the normal sounds of voices, televisions, and lawn mowers. From the pond came the splashing of frogs and the

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occasional chirp of a bird. Bobby heeded none of it, staring hard at the scratches he’d made in the mud. There were only two sets of grandparents for the whole neighborhood. The realization hit him with a sickening knot in his middle. The Grandma and Grandpa who said they loved him and who kissed him and slipped him a dollar when Mom and Dad weren’t looking also did the same thing for the kids from seven other families. He wondered if Mom and Dad knew.

Of course they knew. They were Them. All the grownups were. Bobby felt the world shrinking in around him, its walls and barriers more palatable and real than they’d ever been. He had to know what was beyond the walls; had to know what they didn’t want him to see.

Rubbing out his mud chart, Bobby trudged back toward the house. On the way he whispered tonight’s script to himself. Dinner would be meatloaf. Mom would make some offhand comment about women’s lib and Dad would make Bobby do the dishes as a result. Third Saturday of the month... He’d never thought about any of this on a monthly schedule but now the elements came clearly to mind. After dinner they’d watch Happy Days, with Mom and Dad commenting about how nice it would be to live back then. Then they’d play canasta. The only random thing would be the cards that were dealt. Heck, maybe even they were scripted.

Bobby played his role woodenly, escaping to bed as soon as he could. In his room he shut the door, wishing it had a lock, then bunched up some clothes and put them under the blankets to make it look like he was in bed. Opening the window he pushed at the screen. It wouldn’t budge. Feeling around in the dark he found his pocketknife and used it to cut around the edges of the screen. The wire mesh pushed back out of the way and Bobby climbed through, clumsy because of the cast on his arm, and dropped to the ground. He put the knife in his pocket and reached to smooth down the screen.

The side door to the garage was locked but Bobby could reach up through the dog’s flap to the knob. It took some doing, especially doing it left handed, but he got it open. Feeling around in the dark garage he took a flashlight, a hacksaw, and — this was harder to find — a limp air mattress from last summer’s camping trip.

It wasn’t too dark outside. The moon was up and about half full. Bobby stuck to back ways and concealed routes to the swamp. On the dry edge he stopped. This was the big test. Propping his cast on a big rock he gingerly began sawing at the plaster with the hacksaw. Caution flew away and he sawed more and more vigorously until one good whack against the rock sent the plaster cast flying. Bobby held up his still-wrapped arm, flexing the fingers and bending his elbow. He probed the entire length with the fingers of his other hand, first gently, then hard.

It wasn’t broken. It never had been. Blowing up the air mattress took a long time and a lot of breath. He rested after he

was done. No one had come yet. Maybe They didn’t know to watch out here. He walked into the swamp until it was too goopy to support him and he had

trouble pulling his feet free of the mud. He lost one of his shoes so he kicked off the other. Then he put the air mattress down in the mud, laying face down on it. He cut a cattail off with his knife and put it beneath him so it stuck out in front of the mattress as a

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probe. Propelling himself with his toes, Bobby and the air mattress inched toward open water. He didn’t know how long it took but eventually he felt the mattress lift and float free.

Bobby paddled the air mattress out into open water, aiming for the far edge of the pond. He went slowly this time, watching the bobbing cattail. There were a few bad moments in the middle of the pond when he nearly fell off the mattress, and another moment of panic when he thought it was leaking air. But after steadying down he was able to continue onward.

Shortly before reaching the pond’s far edge he saw the cattail bend and felt it push against him. An electric tingle came through the wet reed. Quickly, Bobby stroked backward until the tingle stopped and the reed quit bending.

Paddling sideways, he moved toward the invisible wall again. Over and over Bobby probed the barrier’s length. There had to be a hole in it somewhere. Dawn neared, and he fervently wished he was home, dry, and in bed, and that he’d wake up to find that everyone had their own grandparents and the world didn’t have walls. Then his ever limper cattail probe passed through the invisible line he’d marked in his mind as the barrier.

Bobby paddled the air mattress sideways a bit more then forward again. The cattail didn’t hit anything more solid than air. The air mattress did, though. Bobby was jarred off by the impact. Scrambling to keep hold of the mattress as he splashed into the cold water. He flailed to catch the flashlight before it sunk. He missed.

Clutching the air mattress, which decided to start hissing threateningly, he watched the flashlight sink into the water, then stop only inches below the surface. The light from it dimmed, flickered, then went out. The air mattress sagged, trying to sink. In the graying light Bobby saw that the plastic plug had been knocked out of its hole. Kicking with all his strength, Bobby swam toward the dead flashlight.

A moment later he pulled himself up onto the very solid, square-edged shelf that lay invisibly just below the water’s surface. Without his weight on it, the mattress quit hissing and floated pathetically away, half-submerged in the water. With a stretching grasp, Bobby managed to snag the soggy cattail. For a time he sat still, resting. The growing light of dawn urged him to his feet.

He was standing on the pond. Tentatively, he felt his way along the hidden pathway. First he backtracked a short ways. It seemed that the path went back toward the suburb in a fairly straight line. Setting his mouth in a firm scowl, Bobby wondered how often They used this route in and out of his tiny world.

Turning back toward the barrier, Bobby reached the place where the world’s wall had been. With the cattail held before him like a sword, a limp, trembling sword he started forward. There was an opening here. There was. Inch by inch, Bobby moved forward until he passed through the crack in the sky.

It was like passing through the beam of a slide projector, only more so. A wall of sky surrounded him like a solid thing, but one with no real substance. Fighting the urge to close his eyes against the unnatural effect, Bobby continued forward. The water grew shallower, then disappeared leaving him on dry floor. On the floor — or imbedded in it

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— was a row of lights. Above the narrow corridor arched an illuminated ceiling. In here the sounds of the outside world, the freeway, the birds, the frogs, were subdued. It was like listening to the radio with a pillow over your ears, Bobby decided.

He stopped and forced himself to turn around. The world he knew shone through the arched doorway, a distant, unreal thing. It was like a dream image of the home he knew. For a long time Bobby stood staring at that fragment of his universe. His life was back there, all he knew was there; Mom, Dad, his friends, neighbors, even Laura. And Grandma and Grandpa... the Grandma and Grandpa who hugged him and exclaimed over how much he’d grown, then the next day told the same thing to Peter Franklin down the street.

Swallowing hard, Bobby swiped angrily at his eyes. He didn’t need to go on, he told himself. He’d proven his world was a fraud. Glancing at his never-broken arm he realized he’d proven that Mom and Dad were frauds too. With his throat tight and his eyes blurry, Bobby turned around and continued down the corridor.

The passageway ended with a door. Bobby pulled, then pushed and it opened with a click and soft sigh of air. He stepped into a long, well-lit hallway. Before he let the door close he examined it for locks. It had none he could see, not even a latch, so he let it slowly close. As soon as it clicked shut he jerked on the handle. The door refused to budge. Sweat stood out on his forehead as he leaned all his weight on the handle. It wouldn’t open. Pulling his pocketknife out Bobby opened out the heavier blade, using it to pry at the door. The blade snapped. The door stayed closed. Closing the stub of the blade he put it back in his pocket.

Bobby stepped back away from the door, staring hard at it, searching for locks or latches but the surface was bare save for a plainly lettered sign: American Midwest, suburbs, 1973.

He stared at the sign for a long time. When he turned away he saw that the hallway stretched away in both directions in a long, gentle curve that kept him from seeing what lay at either end. Barefoot and still dripping pond water, Bobby started off down the hallway, randomly choosing to go to the left.

After a while another door appeared in the wall, on the other side of the hall. The sign on its door read American Midwestern farm, 1950s, with a smaller notation adding Grandparents I. Grandma and Grandpa?, he wondered bitterly as he jerked futilely on the door handle.

Bobby didn’t know how far he walked, nor how many doorways he passed. Exhaustion battled sleepiness for claim on him. Yet he kept on, past doors announcing places and eras throughout time; Philadelphia in 1775, Dakota Territory in the 1880s, London in the 1500s... as well as others closer to his time and home. Below the sign that said it was America in the 1950s someone had written “Happy Days.” Bobby wondered if they meant the TV show he and Laura always watched.

His clothes had long since dried on him when he reached a door that caused him to stop for a long moment. New York, 2087, it said. Not only wasn’t his home — his world — not real, his time wasn’t even real. Whatever was going on here, it was far, far beyond anything that 1973 could produce. Heck, it was beyond anything on Star Trek, even. How

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far in the future was he? It was actually a relief when Bobby finally came to a split in the curving corridor.

Down one branch he could see another of the too-familiar door handles. Down the other he heard voices.

“Oh, my [unintelligible guttural sound]!” a man (or woman, Bobby couldn’t tell for sure) in a white tunic exclaimed when he, she, or it saw Bobby. About half a dozen more people gathered around him. One grabbed him by the arm. Bobby shook him/her/it off, stepping back. He jerked his knife out of his pocket, snapping the remaining blade open. Waving it in front of him he was gratified to see Them give way. Oh, yes. It was Them. It had to be.

“Where come you from?” one of Them asked in a stilted way. Bobby’s mouth twitched. “1973.” A gasping sigh passed around the group. They talked rapidly among themselves. It

was English but different somehow. Bobby could only catch words and phrases. One word he heard several times was “Adjusters.”

“Just what the hell is going on here?” Bobby demanded in a harsh, adult voice. More of Them came. Higher up Them, he gathered, not intimidated by a kid with a

broken pocket knife, nor anything else from 1973. His knife was taken away. They took his clothes too when they washed him, dressing him again in some of their strange clothes. He was fed tasteless slop and given a bed.

Days, weeks, Bobby didn’t know how long it was. They came, asked questions and went away again. He told Them everything; about the dragon/bunny cloud, about the grandparents, the ghost kids... He told Them everything over and over until he felt like making up new, weird things to say. Then a new one came, one called only “Adjuster” and somehow he knew he/she/it would know he was lying and wouldn’t stand for any nonsense.

After he begged Them for television the Adjuster showed him how to run the viewer in his little room (cage, he called it in his mind). On it he found he could call up views of all the worlds and times from the doors he’d seen, and countless more. By fiddling with the controls he could see into their homes, their schools, their bathrooms, into the tiniest details of their lives.

He called up his home. There it was on the screen, his street, his yard, kids playing basketball in the

neighbor’s driveway. The pond was there but a high fence ran around its edge now. Danger signs hung from the fence. A bouquet of wilted flowers lay beneath the danger sign.

Finally he punched into his own house. They were in the living room, Mom, Dad, Laura. They were watching Happy Days and they were laughing though he thought he saw Mom glance sadly at Bobby’s last school picture. Loneliness and homesickness filled Bobby so strongly he thought he might die.

~~~ Sometimes he watched them on the screen. Other times he just stood at the Barrier

watching the whole neighborhood from the viewports in the Center along where the non-

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existent freeway should have been. Sometimes he was surrounded by groups of school kids gawking at his home. Other times it was college students, researchers, or just slack-jawed tourists. Sometimes he was alone.

“Your absence has been adjusted for,” the tall one said behind him. “I want to go home,” Bobby whispered. The Adjuster sighed. “You can’t. You drowned in the pond. Your parents found

the air mattress. When they dredged the pond they found a body. No one looked at it too closely.”

Bobby swallowed hard. “Mom and Dad know it’s not real. They know I’m alive. They’ll come for me. I know they will.”

A strong hand closed on his shoulder. It was the closest one of Them had ever come to comforting him.

“Yes, they know,” the Adjuster said softly. “They know and chose to stay in the Preserve.”

Bobby turned around and pounded his fists against the Adjuster’s chest. “No, no, no,” he cried, tears blinding him. The Adjuster caught his hands, held him in a tight hug.

With a voice choked, the Adjuster repeated in his ear, “They know. They chose.” The Adjuster pushed him out to arm’s length, her eyes (he knew now it was a her) glistened moistly. “Your mother is expecting a new baby. They wanted to raise it in 1973.”

The Adjuster continued. “You may have been raised in 1973 but you were born of this world, this time. It’s part of you and you of it. We’re your people.” She pulled him back into her embrace. “Don’t worry, young one. I’ll take care of you.”

Bobby watched as Mom and Dad smiled at each other and turned his room into a nursery. He watched everything, studying the Preserve with grim intensity. But with the Adjuster he smiled and acted happy until she relaxed and quit watching him so closely. When a chance came, Bobby crept away. He’d found the crack in the sky once before, he could find it again.

Moving around the Barrier, Bobby moved to the place he’d selected, creeping cautiously.

Then something hit him. Hard.

The End Now that you’ve finished reading the short story, fill in the following blanks on the next page. Remember to use complete sentences. The information you use will help you when it comes time to watch the

film.


11.

Short Story Analysis Fill in the following blanks with complete sentences and examples:

A. The Basics: 1. Story Title: ____________________________________________________________. 2. Author: _______________________________________________________________.

B. CHARACTERIZATION: The method a writer uses to communicate information about characters to readers.

3. Who is the PROTAGONIST? List three character traits of this character._______________ ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________. 4. Who is the ANTAGONIST? List three characters traits of this character._______________ ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

C. SETTING: The environment (time & space) in which the story takes place.

5. What is the SETTING of this story? Why is it important? __________________________ ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

D. POINT OF VIEW (POV): The perspective from which a story is told: First-Person, Third-person, Third-person Omniscient, or Third-person Limited.

6. From which POINT OF VIEW (POV) (see above) is this story told? _________________ ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.


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E. CONFLICT: The central source of tension and drama in the story. It’s the dramatic problem: Man v. Man; Man v. Self; Man v. Nature; Man v. Technology; Man v. The System

7. What is the major CONFLICT in this story? In addition to specifying the TYPE of conflict (see above), be sure to be SPECIFIC in explaining the conflict. _________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

F. RESOLUTION: The conclusion of the story. The resolution includes the story’s action after the climax until the end of the story.

8. How is the CONFLICT above RESOLVED in the story? (It is VERY important that your resolution match your conflict) __________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

G. FORESHADOWING: A technique that gives readers clues about events that will happen later in the story.

9. Is there any FORESHADOWING in this story? Please cite specific examples from the story and explain what is being foreshadowed. ______________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

H. FLASHBACK: A technique that takes readers back in the past in the life of a character.

10. Is there any FLASHBACK in this story? Please cite specific examples from the story. __ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.


13.

I. ALLUSION: A brief and indirect reference to a person, place, thing, or idea of historical, cultural, literary, or political significance.

11. Are there any ALLUSIONS in the story? Please cite specific examples from the story. __ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

J. SIMILE: A comparison of two unlike things using the words “like,” “as,” “as if,” and “than.”

12. Are there any SIMILES in the story? Quote each example directly: _________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

K. METAPHOR: A comparison of two unlike things that does NOT use words “like,” “as,” “as if,” and “than.”

13. Are there any METAPHORS in the story? Quote each example directly: ____________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

L. PERSONIFICATION: Writing that gives inanimate objects or abstract ideas human qualities.

14. Is there any PERSONIFICATION in the story? Quote each example directly: ________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.


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M. HYPERBOLE: An exaggerated statement used to make a strong effect.

15. Is there HYPERBOLE in this story? Quote each example directly and explain the point the author is trying to make. _____________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

N. SENSORY IMAGERY: A word or phrase that incorporates the senses of TOUCH, TASTE, SMELL, SIGHT and/or SOUND.

16. Are there examples of TOUCH in this story? Quote each example directly:____________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________. 17. Are there examples of TASTE in this story? Quote each example directly:_____________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________. 18. Are there examples of SMELL in this story? Quote each example directly:____________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________. 19. Are there examples of SIGHT in this story? Quote each example directly:_____________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________. 20. Are there examples of SOUND in this story? Quote each example directly:____________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.


15.

O. SYMBOL: An image, object, character, or action that stands for an idea (or ideas) beyond its literal meaning.

21. Is there any SYMBOLISM in this story? Explain the symbol and what it stands for. ____ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

P. TONE: The way that the writer feels about the story; it’s the writer’s attitude about the story.

22. What is the TONE of this story? ______________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________.

Q. MOOD: The way a story makes the reader feel.

23. What is the MOOD of this story? _____________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

R. THEME: The “universal truth” that the author is trying to communicate.

24. Pick (circle) a THEME for this story.

Good Things Come In Small Packages Friendships are Invaluable Poverty V. Wealth The Big Trick What Goes Around Comes Around The Big Mystery Crime Does Not Pay The Myth Of The American Dream Overcoming Adversity Love Conquers All Friendship Is Dependent On Sacrifice Cheaters Never Prosper The Importance Of Family It Is Better To Give Than Receive Sacrifice Brings Rewards Being Different Human Beings All Have The Same Needs Triumph Of The Human Spirit Death Is A Part Of Life The Difference One Individual Can Make Struggles Against Societal Pressure The Dangerous Ease Of Denial Struggles Against Nature The Limits Of Fellowship

The Beauty Of Nature The Unreliability Of Memory Thirst For Power Location As Identity Loss Of Innocence The Necessity Of Love The Great Battle Tragedies Of War The Noble Sacrifice The Inescapable Past The Great Journey Order In Society V. Freedom Of Choice The Fall From Grace Home Is Where The Heart Is Different Worlds Of Men And Women Fate V. Free Will Conformity As A Threat To Freedom Transforming Power Of Faith Power Corrupts The Power Of Words And Names The Blurred Line Between Good & Evil Nature Over Technology Destiny Over Self-directed Fate The Power of Skill over Strength

Compassion as Heroic The Mystery of Death The Struggle for Self-Definition The Pitfalls of Temptation The Power of Storytelling The Danger of Isolation Civilization vs. Savagery The Danger of Knowledge The Problem of Immigrant Identity The Effects of Guilt on One’s Conscience Society’s Treatment of the Powerless The Value and Purpose of Dreams Inhumanity towards other Humans The Need to Fight Racial Discrimination Upper Class vs. Lower Class The Willingness to Ignore the Truth The Power of the Dead over the Living The Burden of Secrets There are No Random Acts in Life Things are not always as they Appear Revenge Love is the Worthiest of Pursuits The Balance of Life Death as a New Beginning

The Fading Bonds of Love The Ethics of Killing for Duty The Inner Struggle of Faith Finding Hope after Tragedy The Balance between Justice and Judgment War is Tragic Peace is Fleeting You Can’t Go Home, Again The Fluid Nature of Time The Blurred Line Between Reality and Illusion Ambition and Self- Improvement The Psychology of Crime and Punishment The Importance of Companionship The Transience of Human Life The Use of Technology to Control Society The Danger of Knowledge

16.

25. Explain the THEME: How do you justify this as the THEMATIC CHOICE? Give three text examples that support your justification. ________________________________________ __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.


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S. ADVANCED SETTING:

26. Explain the SETTING: How does setting influence or determine BOBBY’S behavior? Give three text examples that support your justification. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________.

18.


Over the course of a story, characters face various challenges that cause them to change. Think about the main character in this short story. Use the graphic organizer below to trace how the character changed from the beginning to the end of the story.

How the character felt in the beginning… Evidence from the story:

Example 1: ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Example 2: ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Example 1: ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Example 2: ___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Example 1: ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Example 2: ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ________________________________________________________________________________________________

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

How the character felt in the middle…

How the character felt in the end…

Evidence from the story:

Evidence from the story:


19.

Notes on the movie: The Truman Show

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20.


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21.


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22.

Short Story Concept

Film Concept

How Alike?

How Different?

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

With Regards To…

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Compare and Contrast the Story Concept of these two versions of the same story.


23.

How Alike?

How Different?

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

With Regards To…

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Compare and Contrast the Main Character of these two versions of the same story.


Short Story Main Character

Film Main Character

24.

How Alike?

How Different?

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

With Regards To…

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Compare and Contrast the Setting of these two versions of the same story.


Short Story Setting

Film Setting

25.

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7.

8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14.

15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21.

Extra 2. Extra 1.

USE ONLY THE FILM HERE: Plot Outline Analyze the plot for the film in a group. Here is your challenge. You will receive the entire plot for The Truman Show in jumbled order. As a group, your job is to put the plot into correct order. You must pay serious attention to the context clues in the plot paragraphs. Just to make it that much more difficult, there are two plot points (deleted scenes) that DID NOT occur in the film. Write the correct letter in each box that demonstrates THE CORRECT order of the plot. There is only one correct order. Then, write the two letters of the plot that did not occur in the film. THE CORRECT PLOT ORDER:

THE TWO EXTRA SCENES:


26.

READER / WATCHER RESPONSE QUESTIONS: On a separate sheet of paper (in SEXY Paragraph form), answer ONE of following questions in a type-written response: 1. What benefit, if any, would there be of living in a “false” world as opposed to the real world. 2. As each character begins to piece together the falsity of the worlds that surround them, their views of reality begin to alter. They start to question and analyze all that they encounter. Can you think of a parallel example in your life that has changed the way you view and understand the world? Describe your example. 3. Consider yourself in Truman or Bobby’s position. If presented with the choice to remain in a prescribed world, a place where you have been promised that “you have nothing to fear,” or to enter into another world that you know little or nothing about, which would you choose and why? 4. In what ways does Truman and Bobby’s relationship with their perceived worlds differ from that of a normal human being? READER / WATCHER RESPONSE QUESTION: On a separate sheet of paper (in SEXY Paragraph form), everyone MUST answer the following question in a type-written response: **To what extent are human beings controlled by their environments? Use evidence from the short story text, the film text, and your personal experiences to support your answer.


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crack in the sky (1995/2012) · · 2018-04-09feel free to annotate or take notes, ... of cow poop...

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