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    A Derivation of Love
    A Derivation of Love
    A Derivation of Love
    Ebook144 pages1 hour

    A Derivation of Love

    By Sterling Lynch

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A unique and distinctively Canadian story about boys and girls and the problems between them. Warning: Explicit Sexual Content.

    On Twitter, tag comments with #DofL

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSterling Lynch
    Release dateOct 31, 2011
    ISBN9780986544316
    A Derivation of Love
    Author

    Sterling Lynch

    Sterling authors a blog, plays, poetry, songs, philosophical essays, performances, theatrical productions, and community. He wears his cap with suspicion. Social Media Set The Stage, a book he edited, is available on Amazon. It documents the story of how he and Mare Biddle met and collaborated thanks to social media. It includes two one act plays and the playwrights' reflections on social media. Home In Time won The Ottawa Little Theatre's 69th National One Act Competition. The Root of All Squares (co-written with Sam Varteniuk) won the 2001 Toronto Fringe Festival's "Best New Play" award and has been produced sixteen times, by four different companies. It premiered in New York at the 2007 Frigid Festival. He has a MA. in Religion and Culture (Wilfrid Laurier University), a MA. in Philosophy (University of Calgary), and a Ph.D. in Philosophy (Auckland University). He lives in Ottawa, Canada. Become a part of his story at www.sterlinglynch.com.

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      Book preview

      A Derivation of Love - Sterling Lynch

      A Derivation of Love

      A very short novel

      Sterling Lynch

      Copyright Sterling Lynch 2011

      Published by Tangelico Publishing at Smashwords

      No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means — graphic, electronic or mechanical — without the prior written permission of the publisher, excluding brief excerpts in a review.

      ISBN: 978-0-9865443-1-6

      Cover Art and Design by Jay Lutes Designs (jaylutesdesigns.yolasite.com)

      Ebook design by Evan Thornton, PODCO New Media @evanthornton

      For Jason Fleming

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Title Page

      Copyright Epigram

      Chapter 1 - Monday, April 28th, 1980

      Chapter 2 - Wednesday, April 30th, 1993

      Chapter 3 - Wednesday, September 5th, 1984

      Chapter 4 - Saturday, May 14th, 1994

      Chapter 5 - Sunday, January 17th, 1988

      Chapter 6 - Thursday, February 15, 1996

      Chapter 7 - Tuesday, August 15th, 2000

      Chapter 8 - Sunday, September 9th, 2001

      Chapter 9 - Friday, September 14th, 2001.

      About Sterling Lynch

      He accepted everything. The past was alterable. The past never had been altered. Oceania was at war with Eastasia. Oceania had always been at war with Eastasia.

      1984 – George Orwell

      ~~~~

      CHAPTER 1 - MONDAY, APRIL 28TH, 1980

      
Across the street from the subdivision in which they lived, the children waited for the school bus. The unfinished subdivision had opened recently and, without roads, sidewalks, or lawns, the almost identical townhouses were marooned in mud and connected by wooden-planks. The clearing, where the children gathered, was uneven and muddy and, like the subdivision itself, had only recently been carved out of the farmer’s fields and light woodlands surrounding Ottawa. A large sign erected by the developers announced in neat black letters that the land would soon be developed. White but for its letters, the sign was wet with dew. A boy threw a rock at it for no other reason, it seemed, than to break the monotony.

      Desmond stood near a group of boys, sucking on a cherry Lifesaver, waiting for the candy to be thin enough to break with a push of his tongue through its centre hole. His chin was low and his gaze was fixed across the street on a one-way sign. To his left, there was a large pile of sod that had been left a week ago. Between its high stacks, a narrow cavern emanated an earthy stench. A scruffy-haired boy moved toward it and passed through Desmond’s gaze. The candy broke and its cracked sharp edges made a tangy sweet pain on his tongue. Desmond smiled, enjoying the pinch.

      A tall boy stepped from the group and pointed a finger at the scruffy-haired boy. I dare you to go in.

      No way. It smells gross. The scruffy-haired boy scrunched up his nose. I dare you to go in.

      I dared you first.

      So what, I dared you second. The scruffy-haired boy leaned forward over his right leg towards the tall boy. With his left hand, he pulled hair out of his eyes and pushed it behind his ear. If you love grass so much, why don’t you go in?

      I don’t love grass. The tall boy leaned forward from his waist, with his hands on his hips and his chin out towards the other. You’re the one who loves grass.

      Do not.

      Do, too.

      An older boy, the same age as the tall one, punched Desmond on the shoulder. Give me a Lifesaver, Des.

      Desmond’s right hand went into his pocket and he looked up to the older boy’s eyes. Not a red one, though.

      Why not?

      Red’s my favorite.

      I gave you a red yesterday.

      You didn’t say it was a trade. Desmond’s hand remained in his pocket. If you said it was a trade, I’d have to give you a red one today but you didn’t make it a trade so I don’t have to.

      That’s stupid.

      Doesn’t matter, even if it is.

      The older boy shifted his weight to his right foot, which was a little behind the left. His neck, head, and eyes rolled in the direction of his shifted weight. He put out his left hand and wiggled his fingers, looking away at nothing in particular. Just give me the pack. His left toe raised and then dropped to the ground. I’ll take whatever’s on top.

      No way. Desmond stepped back, turned his body away, and looked over his shoulder at the older boy.

      Only if you promise not to take a red one.

      Sure.

      Promise.

      I promise, I won’t take one.

      A red one. Desmond turned more of his back towards the older boy. Promise you won’t take a red one.

      Okay. A red one.

      Say it all.

      The older boy pushed his right shoulder up so it touched where his chin and ear met. He shook his head a little and sighed loudly. Okay. Okay. I promise I won’t take a red one.

      Desmond faced the older boy and stepped towards him, removing his hand from his pocket. Remember, you promised. He placed the little rainbow coloured package in the palm of the older boy’s outstretched hand. The older boy picked at the bunched-up paper at one end and revealed a red candy.

      It’s the first one.

      Doesn’t matter. You promised.

      The older boy looked at Desmond, shrugged his shoulders, and pulled out the red candy. He took the next candy -- a yellow one -- and put it into his mouth. The red went back into the space where the yellow had been and the excess packaging was slowly and deliberately folded over. When he was finished, he held the candy out in the palm of his hand. He looked at it, at Desmond, and again at the candy.

      Desmond lunged. Give it back. The older boy pulled his hand away, closed the candy into a fist, and raised it above his head. With his other hand, he held Desmond back, pushing into the base of his collarbone.

      I promised not to take a red one. The older boy backed away and Desmond stumbled forward. I didn’t promise to give them back.

      Desmond lunged again at the older boy’s raised fist. You have to give it back. His eyes locked on the hand with the candy. They’re mine.

      Sure, they’re yours. With a sudden movement, the older boy was past Desmond and next to the sod cavern. I’m not taking them. He made a quick underhanded motion. Only I’m not giving them right back to you is all. He turned, smiled, and made an after-you motion towards the darkness.

      Desmond stood still and looked where the older boy had motioned. The back of his eyes began to burn. His shoulders rolled forward and his chin fell. You have to give things back. He looked up at the older boy. You don’t have to say so.

      You didn’t make me promise to give it back. The older boy smiled and gave his shoulders a short deliberate shrug. All I promised was not to take a red one.

      Give them back, please. Desmond motioned, without looking, at the sod. You have to.

      I might get them back for you. The older boy’s hands were on his hips, his face turned away, and he watched Desmond out of the corner of his left eye. If you promise to give me the red one.

      No way. Desmond’s eyes hardened and he raised his chin. You’re only trying to break your promise.

      So what? The older boy shrugged his shoulders. He moved away from the sod and came close to Desmond.

      You’re not getting your Lifesavers back unless you promise to give me a red one.

      No. Desmond stepped back with his right foot and transferred his weight to it. He rubbed the small of his back with the top of his wrist and forearm. No way.

      You better go get them then. The older boy smiled over Desmond towards the tall boy. If someone else goes in there and finds them, it’s finders, keepers.

      No, it’s not. No, it’s not. Desmond turned around to face the others and pointed at the sod. It’s not finders, keepers. They’re my Lifesavers. Everyone saw.

      The tall boy in front of the group cleared his throat dramatically. I didn’t see anything and I might go in now. He looked over his left shoulder and smiled at the boys behind him. If someone dared me.

      No. They’re mine.

      Mine what? The tall boy turned into Desmond’s eyes and took a step towards him. What am I going to find? He put a confused look on his face and twisted his head at the end of his neck. All I’m saying is if I got dared, I’d go in. He looked up, past Desmond, to the older boy who had taken the candy. But, if I did find anything, it’d be mine.

      See Des. Desmond turned around. The older boy’s face and smile were very close. "If

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