Simple rules, potentially complex writing: Write a confrontation between two or more people. Sounds easy? Remember, if you start off too strong, it may look cartoonish. If you don't add to the emotion as it goes on, it will sound like a philosophical debate. And you need to make the different personalities come across. What causes the conflict, whether or not it is resolved, how tense it gets, etc., is all up to you. I just want to see the confrontation build - blood and guts isn't a requirement. ;-) Please post your entries here. The thread is locked at the end of the day on 24 March. (I'll try for 11:59pm, but no guarantees. It's a bit past my bedtime on workdays.) Voting will start 25 March, with the winner announced on 1 April. Have fun!

Hey, Cres, what is the word length parameter (and any other ones)?

 **ABRIDGE**, *v.t.,* To Shorten.

• Ambrose Bierce ("The Devil's Dictionary")

Here's a sample of a confrontation. Hollywood aside, not all confrontations end in a shower of bullets. ;-)

"Dolls are dumb. Only dumb girls like dumb dolls." Jorge put another Lego on his super-sonic, lightspeed rocket.

Lupe smacked his Legos with "Princess Margarita" - her ugly, old Barbie doll. His rocket ship broke apart. "Only poopie boys think dolls are dumb." She smoothed the doll's hair back down. "Right, Princess Margarita?"

He glared at his sister and started putting his blocks back in place. No one could destroy his ultra-secret rocket - it was made to look like it could be broken, but he knew better. "Dolls don't do nothing. Even Mom doesn't have a doll."

"Dad doesn't have Legos." She crossed her arms across her body in triumph. Older sisters always thought they were so smart but they weren't and he knew it.

"Well, well, when Dad got me them, he said he wished he had some just like these and Mom didn't say that when she got your stupid doll 'cause I was there when she got it." He stuck out his tongue at her. "So there."

Lupe stared at him for several seconds. She knew he was right and she was just a dumb girl but she didn't want to admit it. Suddenly she popped the head of her doll and threw it across the room. "Mom!" she wailed.

Mom walked into the room, hands on her hips. "Jorge, I've told you to stop picking on your sister. Now you go to your room until you're ready to play nice with her."

"But, Mom - "

"The only butt here is going to be your spanked one if you don't go right now." She pointed to his room.

As Jorge trudged down the hall, he heard his Mom say to Lupe, "It's okay. The head pops back on. See? Don't let Jorge get to you - boys like to pick on girls sometimes, that's all. You just stand up to them and they'll stop. Hey, now that Princess Margarita is feeling better, do you two want to have a tea party with me?"

He slammed his door shut. Dumb girls!

Length is whatever you think is appropriate. Something below "War and Peace" would be my suggestion. ;-) No parameters, no pentameters, just a good scene. Cheers!

She could tell that the parade was over, as the dispersing crowd began filtering back up the street, coming back from the parade route. Mr. And Mrs. Feldon passed behind her, and she returned their nod politely. Then Ross came rushing up the street, holding his shirt like a basket. He spotted her, and veered over to where she sat. He sat down on the curb beside her, and dumped the contents of his improvised basket onto the green verge between them. It was a great parade, Maggie, he puffed, still catching his breath. Too bad you couldn't come. He looked at the candy and nodded. I got candy for both of us. Even steven. No kidding? She sat up with brighter spirits. Sure. It's my fault you got grounded. Well sort of. He had lured her away from her chores on Saturday, after all. They split up the candy 50/50 each taking a turn at picking what they wanted. It was mostly unbranded bulk stuff, but there were a few bite sized candy bars, which got picked rather quickly. They were in the midst the divvying up process when they became aware of someone standing in front of them. Brian McMartin stood just off the curb in the street, at their feet. He sneered down at them, with a smug smile on his face. Giving your girl friend some candy, Ross? he taunted. Shut up, Brian. Ross growled. Why don't you kiss her? Brian gibed. Just go away! Maggie urged, shaking her head in disgust. Brain took a step closer, looming threateningly over Ross. Who's going to make me? Ross jumped to his feet, spilling his candy on the curb. But Brian gave him a little shove before he had steadied himself, and he fell over in a sprawl. Ross scrambled to his feet again, but not before Maggie was standing in front of Brian, fists clenched and ready to fight. Oh, so your girl friend does your fighting for you, huh? Brain cackled. Before Ross could shove Maggie aside Mr. Walton stepped out of the front door and began to fiddle with the garden hose. He casually looked over to the kids. Morning Ross. Brian. How was the parade? Brian suddenly needed to check his shoe laces and muttered some inaudible reply as Mr. Walton lined the sprinkler up so that it would reach the garden under the bay window as well as most of the lawn. When he looked up again Brian was gone, wandering off down the street. He looked up at the clear sky. Fine day, isn't it?

message for jstro I wish I'd written that. Shanna :-)

Thanks. I do wish I had seen the typo before posting. :-p I seem to have a thing with typos. I wonder if Brain would ever consider wearing a bar? :-) Oh well. jon

Crescent, are we still allowed to have more than one go? Shanna :-) who wants more than one go (who'd have guessed)

Yep, enter as many times as you want. The idea is to practice writing and looking at different aspects of writing. It's easier sometimes to perfect a new technique if you're working on a throw-away, instead of a beloved novel-in-progress. Cheers!

   Tossing and turning around two in the morning, he sat up unable to take it any longer. They had been the best of friends. When she suddenly went on the night shift, it was as if she dissappeared off the face of the Earth. There was no more chats over coffee, no more just being silly at the club. She moved in to an apartment close by but would never answer the phone. Was it something he did? That was it for sleep, the rest of the night he pondered what to do.

   The next morning, as he was driving into the hospital, he passed by her apartment complex and saw her car parked in its usual spot. He pulled into the lot and scribbled a hasty note tucking it under a windshield blade before hurrying off, so as not to be late.

   That night he had to stay late. He was up to his neck in patients. They just kept coming and there was no end in sight, and he sat down.

   Suddenly a strange feeling caused him to look up. There she was, and immediately his heart reached out. "I meant what I said."

   "That was kind of a strange way to tell me."

   Perhaps he was just tired, but at that very moment, that critical time-stopping moment, her face suddenly took on the appearance of a girl he knew in college. It was unexpected and threw him back. The young girl was someone else's girlfriend, and he hadn't given her a second thought, but face over face at that critical moment.

   She must have felt his sudden revulsion and turned walking away quickly.

   His boss working on the next bench had seen everything. "Go to her", he said like a father to a son.

   But the vision had shaken him. He fell into a chair unerved by what had happened.

   The next day for some reason he bought a paper. He never bought a paper, Why today?

   A small article caught his eye. The article was about a fatal car accident. The girl he had seen the night before in the face of a girl he was trying to say he loved had been killed seven hundred miles away.

I'm sure you won't see the connection, but I got the idea for this from a line in a Suzanne Vega song. I know, it still needs some work, but I'd be interested to see what you think of it. Do you love any, do you love none? "So you see why I called you Janet." he finished apologetically, returning the last item to the shelf and closing the wardrobe, " I need your help, we've got to make her see that this is not normal." The old woman sighed, then patted his hand gently. "I'm sorry Alan, I just don't know what to say. I never realised when..." her words were cut short as they heard a car pull into the driveway. "You wait here," Alan told her, "I'll bring her up. Best to get it over with right away." He left the room as she nodded, leaving her to sit gingerly on the edge of their double bed, smoothing her smart skirt over aching knees. Her eyes kept returning to the shocking cupboard. It looked so ordinary from the outside. Claires mother shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware that she could feel something suspiciously furry against her ankle. There were no pets in this house. She leant forward to look under the bed. Straightening quickly, she lost the urge to look in any other drawers or cupboards in the house. Claire must have got this from her fathers side of the family, Janet decided, there were none of these kind of goings on in the Smith family history. Claire was startled to find her husband home before her, she tried to unobtrusively tuck the small gift box she carried behind her handbag as she smiled at him , wondering why he should be standing in the hall with such a serious look on his face. She reached out with her free hand to touch the side of his face, intending to kiss him, but to her surprise he drew back from her touch. She faced him, worried now. Something awful must have happened. Had someone died? "What is it Alan? Has someone been hurt?" he shook his head. " I need to show you something. It's important." He led her upstairs, his expression grim. "Is it a surprise?" Claire asked anxiously glancing at her husbands face, he couldn't have found them, she always made sure she put them all away. "Just come with me." he replied, seeming more strained than angry. She revised her opinion, not that bad then.She clutched her handbag tightly to her side, treasuring the fact that her little secret purchase was definitely still safe. he'd never go into her handbag. Claire stopped dead in the threshold. Her mother was sitting on her bed. She rushed forward, throwing handbag and box on the dressing table to fold herself down at her mothers feet. "Are you all right?" she asked "Is it dad?" then, before she could help herself the words sprang out "Did you finally leave him?" Her mother jumped "What? Why would I leave?" she struggled to find words for a moment. "Claire Feiney! How could you ask me such a thing!" before pulling her mind back to the task in hand. "It's you, young lady, that has some explaining to do." Claire looked at her blankly, Mrs Deane gestured towards the wardrobe with her chin "I've seen inside there, though I can't believe my eyes." She watched as only daughter looked from one forbidding face to the other, before glancing at her wardrobe and dissolving into tears."Those are my private things" she sniffed "How could you?" "Private things?" her husband burst out angrily "You can stand there and call those," he spluttered, seeking the right words, "those damned TOYS private things?" "You've got to face up to it Claire" her mother said sternly "You've got a problem, and you need to deal with it. Nobody in their right mind would have a cupboard full of Gonks" Claire stood up shakily "They are called Trolls, not Gonks and you are not taking them away from me. They are the only friends I've got, when you are always working away." she announced, moving towards the wardrobe and leaning protectively against the door.With an embarrassed glance at his mother in law, Alan held his hands out to his wife. She took them cautiously, her body tensed in case he tried to pull her away. "Look, " he entreated her softly "When you got the first couple of those things, I'll admit, I kind of liked it, but that was a long time ago. You never mentioned them again and I forgot all about them. But honey, there must be a couple of thousand in there! Why on earth would anyone want to keep a cupboard full of gonks?" Janet looked hesitantly at Alan. "I think you might want to look under the bed dear." she lifted the valance sheet to reveal a heap of the cheerily smiling little creatures. "You betrayer!" Claire shook with rage. "You're the one who bought me my first troll." "And what may I ask, is in the box you brought in with you this evening?" Alan asked before shaking his head. He had a horrible feeling he already knew "It's the prize of my collection" she replied, rushing over to retrieve it from the dressing table. "A rare white elephant troll." It was going to be a long evening. Shanna :-) It's bad, but I promise you, it could get much worse.

I thought it was pretty funny, actually. My mother is collecting addictive. Believe me when I say I wish she only collected trolls, uh, gonks. I like your sense of humor, Shanna. :)

Thank you Dialyn, you've got me wondering what your mother collects now. I think I collect receipts from supermarkets, & bills, they are certainly the only things I ever seem to have in my handbag. tjames, I forgot to say, your story made me shiver. Sigh...now that I've posted it, I can't see more than twenty bits I want to change. I really wish I'd carried the confrontation on long enough to give poor Alan the opportunity to offer his wife a choice between him and her gonks. It's not a line I get much chance to use. Shanna :-) now planning to revise this on her homepage at a later date.

You could delete and repost...I don't think it is cemented to this thread. :)

I hope this falls under the "confrontation". ___________________________________ " Susanna opened the suitcase. A quick glance around the room, to see what she can take as a souvenir without feeling like a thief. ... " - It doesn't work, you know. I won't leave. - You must leave, you are packing... - I'm packing because YOU are making me to do so, but you know it as well as me: it cannot work. - Susanna, dear... - I got it! You can make me wait a little, so that I can say him goodbye... It wouldn't seem so unnatural... - You cannot wait: if you meet him once more a dialogue will follow, and he'll force you to stay. You must leave now, before he's back. - But it is not a natural thing for me to go this way... I won't leave. - Susanna! This is my story, the plot requires you to leave! - Of course I'll do whatever you write, but you know as well as me that my leaving won't fit to the Susanna character YOU created... and you are going for realism, coherency and so on, aren't you? - But this means I have to change the plot, and the final scene, and the whole thing! ... Okay, let's go back to the writing... " Susanna opened the suitcase. A quick glance around the room, to see what she can take as a souvenir without feeling like a thief. Her eyes stopped on the little photograph on the closet. She took a deep breath, closed the empty suitcase and put it back under the bed. ..." ________________________________________ As usual any correction is more than welcome... (as a non English speaker I'm only willing to learn how not to ill-treat too much the English language)

Keep the entries coming! There's still a week left before the vote!

"Where are my keys?" Miranda was fruitlessly digging about in her purse. "There on the table." "Those aren't mine. My key ring is red. That one is green." "It is? Oh." He folded his newspaper and pushed back from the table. "This is just typical. I'm late and I can't find my keys, and you're no help at all." "Maybe they're in the kitchen. I'll look for you." Adam stood up. "No, I don't think I left them there. Where was I last? I was in the bedroom and then I came downtairs. I must have had them last night. it was so late when I came in. I was so tired I was half asleep. Why does this always happen?" He moved toward the kitchen. "I can tell you how tired I was. I thought the light was on in the bedroom upstairs when I pulled in the driveway but that's silly. You were fast asleep by the time I got upstairs." He was nearly at the door. "I didn't put them on the hall table. They weren't on the dresser this morning." Miranda paused. "Adam..." He started to push open the door. "Adam, wait a second." He stopped. He didn't turn. "Yes?" "Whose keys are those?" "I guess they must be mine." "Look at me." "I'm going to check the kitchen. I'll be right back." "Adam, look at me." He slowly faced her. His face was flushed with color. "Those aren't your keys. You have silver key ring. Whose are those?" "Somebody must have left them." "Who, Adam? Who could have left them?" "Maybe a salesperson. I don't know. People come in. People come out." Miranda picked up the keys between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand as if she were picking up something spoiled. "And you don't remember who?" "I didn't think about it. I thought they were yours. You know how color blind I am. Red. Green. It's hard for me to distinguish." She threw the keys at him. Her aim was bad. The keys arched high and wide. He automatically reached out to catch them. He squeezed his hand into a fist around them without looking at what he held. "Whose are they, Adam? Who was here? Who was she?" "Why do you think a woman left them?" "So a man was here and left his keys?" "I don't know. I don't remember." "There are so many people running through our house that you don't remember? Who was she, Adam?" "Nobody. I mean, I don't remember anybody." He shook his head. "Somebody was here last night." "If you say so." "No, you tell me. Was someone here last night? Someone who left their keys? Someone...someone with you in our bedroom last night?" "Miranda, don't let your imagination get the best of you." "Don't you dare get condescending with me. Who is she?" "I don't want to have this conversation." "Of course you don't. That spoils your fun. So, are you're going to return them to her?" He took a deep breath and released it in a sigh. "Answer me, Adam. Are you going to return the keys to her? You know who they belong to, don't you? Don't you?" "Yes." She took a step. "Who?" "It doesn't matter. You don't know them." "Oh, it doesn't matter because I don't know her? Damn it, Adam. You know her...that makes it matter. I can't believe it." He shook his head. "Wait a second. If her keys are still here...is she still here? She's in my house somewhere?" Adam looked to a spot beyond her. But who or what he was looking at, Miranda never saw.

I was thinking of the days back in the seventies when for some reason all the grown ups made a massive panic rush on the supermarkets, buying up everything in sight. There were some interesting confrontations at the checkouts, accusations of lack of patriotism being shown by the purchase of goods other people wanted & etc... I never did find out what was going on, as a child, the news from the world at large was never so important as where the next sweet was coming from.
Anyway, not quite a supermarket confrontation, but another go at writing for the challenge. I love these things, they set my mind wandering into very dusty memories in search of inspiration, and send it spiralling outwards in hope of new experiences to draw on.
Shanna :-)

"There stands the shameless man who bought the last loaf of bread!" cried Mrs Mopp, one enormous finger shakily pointing at the hapless Scrubber Boil.
"You?" Potman Mopp shouted "Give it here you scoundrel in sheeps clothing. I've a longing for a bacon sandwich, and I'll not have you stand in my way"
Without removing his hand from his youngest daughters trusting grip, Scrubber Boil turned to face a mob of accusing Mopps.
"I bought the bread, why shouldn't I? We need bread too."
"You had bread yesterday Scrubsy" called out young spotty Mopp "I saw you all pigging it on the way home with my very own eyes"
Sneering, Daughter Boil replied "Whose elses eyes would you see it with you big dumb Mopp" she crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at the furious boy as her father gently cuffed her into unrepentant silence.
"Give us that loaf" came the cry from the Mopps
"Get your own!" the Boils bellowed
Fuming Mrs Mopp screeched "You got the last one you greedy whatsits"
"Get out of bed earlier next time then" Scrubber Boil turned to go, his little family following, the younger ones swaggering slightly, it was not often they got to triumph over the Mopps, who suddenly rushed forward to surround the Boils.
Granpa Mopp tugged on the carrier, Daughter Boils hands turned red then white with the death grip she had on the loaf of bread inside it, Potman Mopp shoved his angry shoulder into Scrubber Boils chest, nose to nose they ground out between clenched teeth nonsensical threats and hard to fulfil promises as the struggle for the loaf went on below them.
Young Mopp (he of the overly spotty complexion) darted in through the tangle of legs and grasped the bottom of the carrier, he tried to run, holding on for dear life but was sent flying as the bag suddenly ceased to resist his greedy tug.
The carrier had burst open, in amongst the feet of Mopps and Boils alike, loose slices of bread tumbled to the ground and were crushed by the unheeding grown ups.
The children slunk away, under Granpa Mopps furious glare, leaving Scrubber Boil and Potman Mopp to tussle, as they had so many times before.
Bread forgotten, they were arguing old playground grudges, and imagined pub slights.
Boil and Mopp children alike just wanted a good head start before their fathers noticed the fate of the bread, already the birds were gathering for the feast they could see scattered all over the street.
Mrs Mopp & Granpa Mopp looked at each other, the departing children and the angry men. Silently they drifted away, grinding the now useless crumbs beneath their feet.
Finally Scrubber Boil realised that they were alone. He looked for the bread. Potman Mopp stared too. They backed away from each other, red faced and panting, eyes flicking from the mess of pulped bread under workboot clad feet to each others startled expressions.
"Are they gone?" Potman whispered, hardly turning his head as he tried to scan the area
Scrubber Boil nodded that the coast was clear.
The two men strolled off arm in arm, it was nearly opening time.
"You know Potman," Scrubber observed to his friend as the headed into the pub "There just has to be an easier way to get you out for a beer. That was a waste of bread!"

ps sorry about the names, I was doing the washing up whilst trying to think of some. Shanna :-)

I just reread your entry again. Am I right in thinking that it is a confrontation between the character in the story and the author of the story? What a fascinating way of dealing with the challenge. Well done Shanna :-)

Yes, you are right... Does it ever happen to you? to realize that a character you created cannot do the things you planned in the plot?

Yes it does. No matter how I tear my hair out, sometimes I just have to give in, either chopping out bits of thier personality at an earlier point to drive them back in line, or sometimes letting the story go a little differently to my original plan in order to let them carry on as they are. Shanna :-)

I think that's when the fun starts...when the characters get enough life of their own that they push into their own direction. If a character is too predictable, I lose interest. In one dramatic turn of events (this was back in my fan fiction days), a romantic interest turned into a serial killer...she was so happy with her murderous ways that I couldn't stand to bring her back into a sappy love story.

I don't know how successful I have been, but I wanted to try and write a somewhat more subtle confrontation than my previous efforts, one without words or names. I was trying to make it quite a wistful/intense piece, not about the characters so much as the 'action' Hope you like it.
Shanna :-)
At heart, but secretly of course, a desperate romantic.

ps Crescent, after the challenge is over, I would really appreciate it if you could critique my entries for the challenge. Same goes for everyone, all input very very gratefully accepted.

Goodbye for Now.

When she got home, she knew the phone call had finally come.
She was suddenly full of words that it would serve no purpose to say. His dull green kit bag sat at the bottom of the freshly waxed wooden stairs, beneath his uniform neatly hung beside the door, where until this sparkling frost edged morning his winter coat had resided. She found herself remembering every second of the day he had put up the mismatched coat pegs.
Her now pale face, usually so vivid with expression, and the bloom of new pregnancy, grew still and closed. She yearned to turn time away from the hour so soon to come. She took a deep breath, thinking of how many times she had tried to prepare herself for this day. It had been so different then, it had not been real.
Silence filled their tiny house, as husband and wife sat waiting for the cab that would take him away.
There had been so few opportunities for silence, in the scant months they had been married. This was not the comfortable feeling of home they had expected to indulge in when they had redecorated the nursery just a few weeks before.
He tried to store up memories, studying the tilt of her chin, the curve of her freckled nose, treasuring every loose strand of unruly hair as she sat, enclosed in a world of hurt, hungrily capturing for herself this possibly last look at her brave love, her warrior husband, on the eve of his departure.
So many terrifying words stood between them, darkly momentous and threating, but they could only define the young couples fears, that he might not return, or might not return whole. Of the barely conceived child who might never come to know it's father, the endless years they thought they had to come, the luxuries of time together now cast in doubt nothing was said.
It had come, yet with no words exchanged, the refusal he had never dreamed would be so hard had to be firmly stamped on their relationship. He could not put her first.
Her too focused gaze above a firmly closed mouth betrayed her. She would not beg, would never say those words, would never try to weaken him so. But her traitorous blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears, each withheld diamond drop a desperate plea for him to live, to love, to stay. He looked away, in swift rejection of all her eyes longed for. If he came home, he would never deny her again.
She trembled as she capitulated, moving into his arms, every inch of her body betraying her fear that each shift of coarse cloth against chilled skin, each faceted second in time he felt his warm breath against her honey scented hair might be the last one.
The clock ticked, so very loud in the silence that surrounded them. He had never noticed it before, yet now, it intruded into the heavy atmosphere, each jarring tick a lead footstep on the road away from home. He tried to think of words, to fill the gap between now and goodbye, but was afraid to spoil this last gift she could give him, to shatter her restraint and spill the dam leashed for his sake, he retreated back to silence before he broke the spell.
From outside a sound invaded the tense space, a cab had pulled up in the driveway. It was time to go.
At last she made a noise, so quiet, the choked off beginning of a red raw sob as she disentangled herself reluctantly from their embrace that he almost missed it, He reached out to brush his hand down one softly saddened cheek, their fingers still entwined, but slipping now, with heartbreaking tenderness from his grasp. At any other time he knew she would have turned her back, stormed off to wait for him to gentle her back to happiness, but this time she stiffened her too easily riled temper and came to the door.
One last heartbreakingly sweet kiss, touched with an urgent regret, passion rising too sudden and too late, then he let her go and climbed into the waiting car.
Everything seemed overlaid with a golden glow, the early sunset of his home life capturing at last the image he would take with him into war as he looked back over his shoulder, a forlorn figure waving goodbye from the street. As the car turned the corner, she was lost from view.
He looked forward, noticing only now the tinge of salt upon his lips, a taste of the crying to come.

".....one without words or names." I'll grant the names, but you certainly did use words and beautifully so. Perhaps you meant, without dialogue???

lol yes, I did mean without the characters getting to say any words! Shanna :-) duh

The Legend of White Dove By A. Wayne Heusel We have all read or heard of different heros throughout history. These stories have been passed down through the years from one person to the next. This one was told to me by my mother. Legends may come and legends may go. But no legend ever told can compare to the legend of White Dove. The legacy she left behind has probably saved more lives than any other legend in the world. White Dove was born with a destiny. This destiny would make her and the men she loved famous throughout history. Even her parents names are still revered in todays society. She was the daughter of Big Chief and her mother Little Woman. Her father was the King of the largest tribes in the world. (Because it was so long ago, the name of that tribe is no longer known.) Big Chief was a proud and honorable man. He stood about six feet tall and must have weighed about two hundred and ten pounds. His eyes spoke wisdom in just a glance. It was just such a glance that made Little Woman fall in love and marry Big Chief. Little Woman was more than five feet tall and proportionately built to suit her man. She worked from sunup to sundown keeping the teepee clean and meals prepared. Often were the times she would surprise Big chief with love notes in his brown leather lunch bag. Big Chief would always find love and comfort in the arms of Little Woman. The love they shared between each other was unlike any the world would ever know. The day came when Little Woman gave birth to their first born child. Big Chief and Little Woman were so proud of their beautiful daughter. She truly was the most beautiful baby girl ever born. Big Chief could hardly wait to show everyone his beautiful new baby girl. He took her in his arms and gently cuddled and hugged her, as he talked to her, the way most new fathers talk to their new born children. After they had a few intimate moments between mother, father and new born daughter. It was time to give her a name and as was their custom the father would carry the new born child outside to show to the world. The first thing he sees is to be the guiding spirit that the child is to be named after. As he stepped through the leather flap of his teepee, a bird flew right into him falling to the ground, unharmed but dazed. This was the first thing he saw and so it was declared that his daughters name would be White Dove. The proud father sent for his head scout whose name was Spread Eagle. Spread Eagle was the best tracker and hunter in the tribe. He was in charge of all the scouts in the village. Big Chief told Spread Eagle to send all the scouts out to all the other villages and tell them he has a daughter. When this was done, all of the other villages sent back congratulations and gifts for the new Princess. Growing up White Dove grew up in a village where everyone worked together. The firewood was gathered for the village wood pile. All the women and children worked together. They would gather herbs, fruits, nuts, and roots every day. A lot of these would be dried to last them through the winter months, that come every year. The evening meal was prepared, like a smorgasbord, for everyone in the tribe. The men would take care of the heavier work like building tepees, hunting and trapping. Breaking new ponies for riding. So, anyway, back to the story. Love Happens White Dove was like a tomboy when she was growing up. She had her favorite friends to play with and their names were, Falling Rocks and Running Deer. These boys were favored amongst all the children in the tribe. Maybe, it was because they were White Doves playmates. But more than likely it was because they were respectful, well-mannered boys. As the years passed and the children were growing into young adults. They remained best friends. And like a lot of young teenagers, they would sneak out at night to talk and play. It was one of those nights that Running Deer proclaimed his love for White Dove. And White Dove told Running Deer how much she loved him. Of course, Falling Rocks was not there at that time. Neither of them wanted to hurt the feelings of their friend, Falling Rocks. Because, he was loved by them as a friend. They believed he might not understand. Together White Dove and Running Deer decided not to tell Falling Rocks, until the time was right. It would be a secret, just between White Dove and Running Deer. It was not allowed to ask for the hand of a maiden in marriage until the boy was a man. Boys were not considered a man until they went through a ceremony and passed the test to be a man. This test was coming up soon for Falling Rocks and Running Deer. They had already begun training under the guidance of Spread Eagle. The boys from the tribe would be sent out to face the wilderness and live on their instincts and training for one full moon or one month to you me. That was the test. Two months passed and the next full moon was the night of the ceremony. The next night after the ceremony, the boys from the tribe were sent out in different directions. White Dove was confident that her one true love and her good friend would be all right. One full month went by and all the boys who were sent out as boys came back as men. Running Deer came back into to the village with two extra ponies and an elk. When Falling Rocks came into the village, he had brought back three buffalo hides and some of the meat that he had smoked to preserve it. There was a large celebration for all the brave young men. When the celebration was starting to come to an end. White Dove and Running Deer was seen sneaking out of the village by Falling Rocks. He snuck up behind them and over heard what they were talking about. Running Deer told White Dove that he was going to her father to ask for her hand in marriage. When Falling Rocks heard this, he was very jealous and hurt. He felt like he had been betrayed. He began to realize how much he loved White Dove and wished that he had told her. He thought about the years of friendship they had between them and about how foolish he felt. Anger took hold of him and tears started to flow down his cheeks. Falling Rocks quietly sobbed as he went back to his teepee. He dropped to his knees and beat the ground with his fist. His emotions were running rampant as he thought about what he had overheard. Finally he fell into a tormented sleep. When he awoke, he decided he was not going to give up that easily. So, very early that morning Falling Rocks went to have a talk with Big Chief. He told Big Chief about his love for White Dove. He assured him that his daughter would be well provided for. He told him that White Dove would always be the center of his world and he asked for the hand of White Dove in marriage. Big Chief was very proud that Falling Rocks wanted to be the husband of his daughter. Big Chief knew how close the friendship was between the two. He told Falling Rocks that he would be honored to have him as a son and he said he would go and tell his decision to White Dove. ( In those days it was the father who chose the husbands for their daughters.) When Big Chief Told White Dove that he had given her to be married to Falling Rocks. She broke down into tears and screamed how could you do this to me. She ran out of the teepee. Frantic and hurt, she searched for Running Deer all through the village. Finally she found him down by the river. He was washing up to be presentable when he goes to see the chief. He had no idea what was going on when he saw White Dove running down the hill to him. She ran into his arms, nearly knocking him down. Her tears and sobs were choking her voice to the point of not being understood by Running Deer. Burying her face in his chest, she clutched and hugged him very tight, as if someone were trying to tear her from him. Running Deer did not understand one word she was saying. Nor could he even begin to know what it is that upset her. All he could do is stroke her hair and hold her. He began to calm her by telling her to take some deep breaths and try to tell him what it is that she is crying about. She tried a couple of times to tell him, but would break into tears and sobs again. Finally, he got her to calm down enough to tell him. And when she told him, oh!!, you could see the color of rage build in his countenance. He immediately storms off, up the hill, to the village. He is searching for Falling Rocks. He finds him about to make a fire for breakfast or coffee or something. (That does not matter.) Running Deer said not one word when he jumped on Falling Rocks. As he was pummeling Falling Rocks into an unconscious state, other men from the tribe came running over and pulled him off. They held him back as they helped Falling Rocks to his feet and then they had to hold Falling Rocks back away from Running Deer. The men of the villiage dragged the two young men to Big Chiefs teepee, for a decision on what was to be done. Big Chief already knew what was going on, because White Dove was inside the teepee being comforted by her mother. But that did not matter to Big Chief. What did matter to Big Chief was to not look like a fool in front of the whole tribe. He had already given his word to Falling Rocks. Big Chief ordered that each of the young men would be given a chance to be heard at the council meeting that evening. And the councils decision would be final. Until then, both Falling Rocks and Running Deer would be confined to their tepees. ( sort of a teepee arrest ) That evening after dinner the men of the council were settling down with a drink. A peace pipe was being passed around as they talked to each other. They had all heard rumors from their wives and friends all day long. ( You know how that goes. White Dove tells her mother. Little Woman and Little Woman tells a few friends and a few friends tell their husbands what they think. And of course that is the way their husband should vote on the final outcome.) The meeting would not start until Big Chief gets there and calls the meeting to order. Big chief and Spread Eagle were talking to Falling Rocks and Running Deer. They assured the two young men that their arguments would be heard separately and fairly. They were each given a chance to back out and apologize. But neither one of them would hear of it. They agreed to abide by the decision of the council, no matter what that decision would be. Big Chief and Spread Eagle go to call the meeting to order. When they were through discussing and voting on other matters concerning the village.Spread Eagle is sent to get Falling Rocks. Falling Rocks comes to the meeting with a fattened lip and a black eye. It is really hard to look at him without some kind of pity. He tells how he had gone to see Big Chief and asked for White Dove to be his wife. He told the council how Big Chief had agreed to the union. He told them how much he loved White Dove and what a good provider he could be for her and her parents. Big Chief stood up and asked the question. That question, the one that Falling Rocks did not want to be asked. Did my daughter know you were going to ask me to marry her? Falling Rocks answered, that does not matter. Marriages are arranged all the time in this day and age. Many men here would be proud to have their daughters married to me. Just as you told me, you would be proud to have me as your son. Many of the council had to agree. What Falling Rocks said was true. But there was another consideration to be considered. Whoever married White Dove would one day be chief of the whole tribe, not just the village. Falling Rocks would make a good chief but then, so would Running Deer. Spread Eagle escorted Falling Rocks back to his teepee and told him to wait for the decision. It is time for Running Deer to be heard by the council. So, Spread Eagle goes to get Running Deer and takes him to the council meeting. Running Deer begins to tell the council how he was done wrongly by Falling Rocks. And how he and White Dove had been seeing each other and had been discussing marriage for quite some time. He told them about their plans to ask her father. When that very morning Falling Rocks had gone and beat him to it. In his final appeal he said, White Dove loves me and there could not be a man other than him for her happiness. The same question was asked of him that was asked of Falling Rocks. Big Chief stood up and asked, did my daughter know you were going to ask me for her hand in marriage. Running Deer answers proudly, yes she did. Spread Eagle escorts Running Deer back to his teepee and tells him to wait for the councils decision. After an hour of debating and arguing among the council members. There were some that said one of the two had to be cast out of the village. Others said there should be a competition between the two. And that was the first thing the council voted on. It was decided by vote. There would be a competition between the two suitors. The council began to discuss what kind of competition that the two would have equal chances at. As such an equal competition would not be on their conscience. It would be decided by whoever the Great Spirit favored the best. Some of the council members said, the competition should be hand to hand combat to the death. But others said it should be whoever goes out and brings back the most meat for the village. After the vote, both Running Deer and Falling Rocks were brought before the council at the same time to hear the decision. As they stood there glaring at each other. Big Chief stood up and told them both, the council has come to a decision. It has been decided that you both have three days to prepare for a hunt. Whichever of you brings back the most meat for the tribe will be the one to marry White Dove. This meeting is over. In the next three days both Running Deer and Falling Rocks prepared for the hunt of their lives. They sharpen knives and put together arrows. They put together provisions and things they might need. On the third day they were brought together with the whole tribe. Everyone was there to wish them a good hunt and to come back safely. White Dove was not aloud to see either of them. But she sent a brown leather lunch bag full of food and a love note, by way of her mother, to Running Deer. ( And of course you know, her father sooner or later would miss his lunch bag. ) Running Deer and Falling Rocks were sent off in different directions. With part of the villagers running along with them to the edge of the village, to see them off. White Dove was praying every day all day long for the safe return of her love, Running Deer. A week goes by and neither of the two men has returned. Two weeks go by and still not a sign of either of them. White Dove is so wrought with anxiety she begins to fast and pray. Eating hardly anything at all. A month goes by and one of the scouts comes running into the village, shouting Falling Rocks is coming, Falling Rocks is coming. Everyone runs out to meet him and see what he has brought with him. Everyone except White Dove. Falling Rocks had caught three more ponies and they were piled high with all kinds of meat for the village to feast on. Falling Rocks went directly to Big Chief and said, I have brought back the most meat anyone could ever bring. I have won the competition. Now, can I have White Doves hand in marriage, as you promised? Big Chief, very calmly told him, Running Deer has not returned. When he returns then we will see who will marry my daughter. Another month goes by and still Running Deer has not come back. White Dove has lost weight and is looking sickly and pale. She cries and prays continually every day and night. While Falling Rocks is daily demanding of her father to live up to his promise. Big Chief not knowing what to do, asks the council. At the council meeting it was decided to send out the best scouts to find Running Deer. The next day Spread Eagle got his best scouts together and sent them off in different directions. They were to go out and find and bring back Running Deer. After two weeks, all of the scout that had been sent out, returned. None of them had found Running Deer. That night at the council meeting, Falling Rocks was adamantly demanding the hand of White Dove in marriage. The council made a decision and told Falling rocks they were going to try one more time to find Running Deer. And if the search did not come back successful, then they would honor him. White Dove had heard of the decision made by the council. She went to see Falling Rocks with tears flowing down her cheeks and she made a desperate plea for help. She explained, that she loved Running Deer with all of her heart. She told him that she had always loved him too. But her love for him was as a brother which she never had. She told him that she would marry him if she had to, but she would always love Running Deer. She went on to tell Falling Rocks that if she were forced into marriage with him, her love for him as a friend would die. She began to recount times when the three of them were growing up together. How they used to play together and some of the things they learned about life as teenagers. As she talked to him, he started to recount some of the good times also. And as she talked to him, he began to cry. He started to explain his jealousy, but White Dove put her finger to his lips saying, shhh, I know you love me. Falling Rocks wiped the tears from their eyes, because they were both crying, and told her, That the love they both felt for each other would not die. And her happiness was more important to him than anything else in the world. If she wanted Running Deer for her husband then he would go find him and bring him home to her. The next morning, Spread Eagle called his scouts together and sent them out again to try and find and bring back Running Deer. Falling Rocks was among them. Because he meant what he said, to White Dove. He too, would go and search for Running Deer. White Dove was there to see him off and wish him a safe and successful return. Weeks go by and all of the scouts have returned without any good news. They all said, Falling Rocks has not returned yet. Surely, if anyone can, he will find and bring back Running Deer. But weeks go by and six months pass. Still, no sign of either Running Deer or Falling Rocks. White Dove is pining away and getting weaker by the day. So, Big Chief, fearing for the health of his daughter and the future of the tribe, calls for Spread Eagle and tells him to gather all of the scouts from all of the tribes in all of the villages. When they were all assembled for the meeting. Big Chief told them all, they were to go out in all different directions as far as they could. They were to ask everyone they met and talk to people for information that might lead them to find the two that were lost. And as they went in their search they were to put up signs along all of the paths and roads that they traveled. Many months later the scouts all returned without ever finding either Running Deer or Falling Rocks. The scouts had all did as they were told. They all put up signs everywhere they went and still to this very day. You can see those signs along the highway and byways of this great nation of ours. Those signs still read, look out for Running Deer and watch out for Falling Rocks.

lol awayne2, I liked your story, although I'm not so sure about the comments in brackets, but which bit is the confrontation? (read 1st post in this thread for what the challenge is for this month) Shanna :-) Yes, the ending made me laugh.

The confrontation is between Running deer and Falling Rocks for White dove. Did you notice that every name is still used today, even Spread Eagle became The Iconic symbol for America.

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