Redwood Short Stories

As you walk down the streets of Arcadia, Nebraska, you look from side to side and see nothing more than a quiet little town. What you probably aren’t aware of is the history behind this “little town”. Arcadia is built off of determination, character, and distinctiveness. As you make your way down Main Street, you start to grasp a glimpse of the past. Arcadia, Nebraska is a village with quite a story to tell. Not many people know how Arcadia was founded or even how it came to be. Arcadia has dealt with struggles and overcome tragedies, whereas most towns simply would have died away. In addition to the charm of Arcadia’s perseverance, there are also many fun

“Hmm. What about these bottles of wine? It looks like they had a party—all by

1. “I’ll just tell you about this madman stuff that happened to me around last Christmas just before I got pretty run-down and had to come out here and take it easy.”

Violence and crime have a large influence on the short story, “The Disappeared” by Charles Baxter. Throughout the story Anders, the protagonist, is often affected by the crime in Detroit. He is unaware to how dangerous the city is because of his short time spent he has spent in the United States. “The Disappeared” does well in reflecting what Detroit was like in 1990, specifically in terms of violence and crime. The short story is shaped by how Anders and the other characters are affected by the violence and crime in the city.

"Aye, that'll do it, men." One of the men said, clapping another on the back. "What do you say to a restorative pint?"

It takes a lot to rip apart a town. It takes a lot to ravage a community, particularly one as tightly-knit as Ridgway, Pennsylvania. Nestled snugly at the southeastern edge of Allegheny National Forest, Ridgway’s population has dipped to just below four thousand in recent years, though in its 191 years of settlement, it’s never once been called home by more than roughly six thousand people at once. Its proximity to the forest attracts huntsmen and hikers alike, but unless one were actively looking for the town—the square mileage of which comes in at just over two and a half miles, total—it would be remarkably easy for Ridgway to not make a blip on someone’s radar at all. It’s small, out of the way, and most of all, quiet—a recipe for insignificance.

They've been thinking about sending money down here—to put up stores, build factories. It'd mean a lot to this town, an awful lot. But when they read about shooting and killing in the streets, what are they going to think then? I'll tell you. They'll think this is just another wide open town, that's what" (Foreman 315).

“Oh. That’s kind of what I did. I stole stuff.” It was getting dark by the second because Bob could see out the window.

Detroit, many call it the worst place in America, other detroiters like myself call it home. It takes a strong person to be able to withstand all the things going on around you. For those who know it, it’s a place that has many memories that can not be erased, things that most citizens have no recollection of, and secrets the government will never release to the public. Detroit’s truths are only comprehended by a few. The drugs, murder, rape, hospital abuse, and even corruption within the government. Many who are unfortunate enough to bear the weight of Detroit’s burdens have often told stories about their experiences. This, however, is not a review of all those stories but a personal terror.

Outside, a deep silence fell over the neighborhood. This silence crept into every household. Members of the community had a guise of anger and pain expressed on their faces. Everyone locked themselves inside, to lament such a tragedy that has brought sorrow to a twelve years old’s family. Parents fell on their knees with tears in their eyes. This last murder represented the final straw. So many of their own had been murdered by the malicious, metallic, monsters that were supposed to be the defenders of their community. They felt insecure, threatened by the

“I’m sure. The Saints were here. Menendez paid me a visit with two of his men while the others wired some type of bomb they put in the clubhouse.”

Violence and crime have a large influence on the short story, “The Disappeared” by Charles Baxter. Throughout the story Anders, the protagonist, is often affected by the crime in Detroit. He is unaware to how dangerous the city is because of the short time he has spent in the United States. “The Disappeared” reflects what Detroit was like in 1990, specifically in terms of violence and crime. The short story is shaped by how Anders and the other characters are affected by the violence and crime in the city.

“This can’t wait. There was a burglary. The KEG went missing and I think you have it because you were the only other person besides Maggie and me who knew of its existence and location. I don’t have it, nor does she, so that leaves you.”

No one had been murdered in Falls City for nearly half a decade until New Year’s Eve, 1993. Falls City stood about one hundred miles south of Lincoln and outside of Nebraskan commoners, the area was seldom mentioned or heard of. Moreover, the town’s lifelessness was a precise emulation of its residents, whom never deviated from their habitual routine: sleep, work, drink, smoke. There was not much for anyone in Falls City besides a local bar on the corner of Seward Place and the twenty-four hour liquor store adjacent to Dewey Avenue, but there was enough to make Brandon stay.

"I seen things out here. I wasn't drunk. I don't know if I was asleep.