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Darlene P. Campos earned her MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Texas at El Paso. She also graduated from the University of Houston with a BA in English-Creative Writing and a minor in medicine and Social Studies. She is from Guayaquil, Ecuador, but currently lives in Houston, TX with her husband David and an adorable pet rabbit named Jake. Her website is www.darlenepcampos.com. You can support her work here.
Charlie Hill as Jay Eagle Thunderclap
Unfortunately, Mr. Hill passed away in 2013. He was a fantastic Native American stand-up comedian and actor. In fact, he appears in the Roseanne episode “The Last Thursday in November” as D.J. Conner’s teacher. He was also a guest on The Richard Pryor Show as well as The Tonight Show with both Johnny Carson and Jay Leno and Late Night with David Letterman. His humor definitely fits the bill for Jay Eagle’s character.
Irene Bedard as Josephine Thunderclap
Ms. Bedard was phenomenal in the movie Smoke Signals. There is a scene in the movie when she tells Victor the real story of a house fire his father was involved in. Her delivery is spot-on and most of all, her acting makes you feel like you’re in the movie with her. She is outstanding on the big screen! I can’t imagine anyone else playing Josephine other than Irene Bedard.
Graham Greene as Mr. Wayne Graywolf
I’m a huge fan of Graham Greene. He plays Mogie in the movie Skins which is based on the novel of the same name by Adrian C. Louis. If you’ve read Skins, it’s impossible to imagine another actor playing Mogie. He’s charming, funny, and can adapt easily to any role he’s given. If anyone should play Mr. Graywolf, it’s him.
Sacheen Littlefeather as Sequoia Red Cloud
If you’ve heard of Marlon Brando, chances are you’ve heard of the time he refused to accept an Academy Award for Best Actor in The Godfather. Brando sent Littlefeather in his place to decline the award as a form of protest for the unjust misrepresentation of Native Americans in the film and television industry. I admire Littlefeather for her bravery in speaking up. If you look up her speech on YouTube, she was met with some applause, but also a lot of booing. Despite this, she kept on speaking. While Sequoia might not be the most likeable character among people, she holds her beliefs true to her heart, no matter what anyone thinks. Littlefeather would be perfect for this role.
Geri Keams as Yolanda Running Bear
Keams is an incredible storyteller, though she has appeared on several television movies and shows. I love how engaging she is when she tells a story. You can find her telling stories on YouTube if you just search her name. Ms. Running Bear is known for being a quirky science teacher, so I believe Geri Keams would fit this role just right.
Gary Farmer as Ray Firebird
This role is a big role. Gary Farmer stars alongside with Graham Greene in Skins as Mogie’s friend, Weasel Tail, which is where I first discovered his acting. He’s been in Smoke Signals and Powwow Highway where he is just as mesmerizing. Ray Firebird is a major character in Behind Mount Rushmore and only a major guy can play him. Gary Farmer is that major guy!
Eric Schweig as Gray Mountain Thunderclap
Like with Graham Greene, I’m a big fan of Mr. Schweig. He usually plays a tough guy, but a tough guy with a big heart. He plays Graham Greene’s brother in Skins and he does a fantastic job at this role. He’s flawed, but honestly, he’s an excellent brother in this film. He’s best known for being Uncas in The Last of the Mohicans, but this movie does him no justice. He is seriously underrated in the industry. He’s a perfect match for Gray Mountain Thunderclap.
Michael Peña as John David Gutierrez
Who knows where Nimo would be without John David? This role requires an outspoken nature, strength, friendship, and most of all, a smart mouth. John David doesn’t hold back and for this reason, I’d pick Michael Peña to take on this role. Peña played Cesar Chavez in the film of the same name and he was Sal Castro in Walkout. In these roles, Peña gave his all to stand up for what he believed in and never backed down. Peña has just what it takes to be John David.
Elaine Miles as Mrs. Rebecca Graywolf
Elaine Miles is probably best known for her work in the television series, Northern Exposure. She also starred in Smoke Signals and Skins as well. However, I first stumbled upon her acting in the mini-series The Rez in which she plays Mad Etta in the second season. She’s hilarious and unique not only as an actress but as a person, too. Mrs. Graywolf is a role she could master right away.
Last, but not least – who would play Nimo Thunderclap?
This is kind of a funny story. About a year ago, I went to my favorite Chinese restaurant here in Houston with my boyfriend. After dinner, we needed to get a few things from the grocery store down the road from the restaurant. Once we were inside, I noticed a young man, an employee specifically, who was the EXACT description of Nimo. I mean exact as in if I could make Nimo come alive from the novel, he’d look exactly like that employee. For privacy purposes, I won’t tell you the employee’s name, but I did ask him for helping locating an item I needed. He spoke just like Nimo and had his gestures. If there’s ever a movie or TV series based on Behind Mount Rushmore, I want to find this employee and ask him he’d like another job!
You can purchase Behind Mount Rushmore by clicking here.
Darlene P. Campos earned her MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Texas at El Paso. She also graduated from the University of Houston with a BA in English-Creative Writing and a minor in medicine and Social Studies. She is from Guayaquil, Ecuador, but currently lives in Houston, TX with her husband David and an adorable pet rabbit named Jake. Her website is www.darlenepcampos.com. You can support her work here.
We love Houston the way a mother loves her child,
more than the mother who stuffed
her dead daughter in the fridge to keep
collecting the girl’s social security check.
In Hermann Park, Sam Houston’s statue stands high
above everyone else. He faces children playing Frisbee
and sick people lingering to the Texas Medical Center.
At Buffalo Bayou, a man lies by the water
with a sack for a blanket while Joel Osteen
preaches prosperity.
We love Houston the way a car loves to speed,
more than the man who raced past a house
with his gun, splitting the
skulls of two kid brothers.
Jensen Drive is where sleazy men go
for a good time. If caught, they go
downtown to the jail on Bagby Street
where they can see the Aquarium from their cells.
The sharks wiggle around in their too small tank
as a child points up at their jaws. His mother pulls
him close, closer than Andrea Yates who drowned
her five kids in a bathtub.
Yet we love Houston the way mosquitoes
love sucking on our skin, the way the big oil
tycoons love their mansions in River Oaks.
Southwest is the place where it can be scary
to sleep at night and even drive through during
the day, but if you keep going, you will
end up in the Museum District where
Mr. Sam Houston will greet you again.
We love Houston the way a con artist
loves counting money.
We love Houston the way a wife loves her husband
that she’s been married to for over twenty years.
She looks at him with squinted eyes, remembering
a time when he was younger, thinner, and stronger.
She loves him just the same today as she will tomorrow.
She loves him the way a Houstonian loves Houston.
Darlene P. Campos earned her MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Texas at El Paso. She also graduated from the University of Houston with a BA in English-Creative Writing and a minor in medicine and Social Studies. She is from Guayaquil, Ecuador, but currently lives in Houston, TX with her husband David and an adorable pet rabbit named Jake. Her website is www.darlenepcampos.com. You can support her work here.
These feet aren't mine
I didn't craft them
Nor do I pay rent for them
They were borrowed
Used
Blisters
Corns
And all
Irregularly shaped toes
Overgrown nails
Crackling skin
But they carry me
As far as my anxiety will allow
I listen to "Wet Sand"
To drown out the sounds
Of my own self-doubt
I hate wallowing in pity
I'd rather suffocate
Smother myself in the
Smoldering remains
The embers of my fiery passion
Flicker and fizzle out
I found that this took a dark turn
As I look around
And forget where I am
Time to turn back
I'm black in a foreign suburban land
And we all know what that entails
I hesitate
The end of summer air
Dares me to continue
But despite barely existing
I do enjoy having an existence
To whine about
I prefer my chest,
As heavy and nervous as it is,
To remain hole-free
I have enough lead in my blood, officer
I won't be needing anymore
Thank you though
Cars are skating past me now
Little lives in transit
En route
I wonder where they're off to
And I begin to feel offended
Because I wasn't invited
I was never cool enough
Sometimes I was too cool
Too morose
Too intelligent
Too standoffish
To become someone's next regret
I'm at a point in my life
Where my thoughts no longer
Bear repeating
So I'm hoping this breeze
Caught all that
I was singing
Barely audibly
Before I paused my lips
Kids are on the court
With their grandfather
Playing basketball at 10:30
Always thought the park
Closed at 10
White privilege
Wish I was white enough for a game
I immediately see myself
Crossing grandpa while
The spawn of his spawn watch
I would abuse those replaced knees
I would spot him ten
Then give him eleven straight
Maybe push it sixteen
Depends on my cardio
I fell all the way off
And full court is no longer
An option
Nah, son.
Can't do it
Cops have a sixth sense
And this is Minority Report
And I'm a minority
And I pose a minor threat
As a former English Major
So I pass
Grandpa
And his manhood
And his knees
Are spared
The house is no longer
Out of sight
Out of mind
What was once a mirage
Is now a green garage
Whatever I'm feeling
Needs to be dislodged
Tucked away
Appearances must be kept
Deadlines must be met
Fabricated smiles
Muted minds
I must remain professional
And smile
Genetically modified lips
Pursed into processed curves
My headphones are now off
I enter the door
The dogs assault me
My girl questions my sanity
In the shape of
"Feeling better?"
Nah, son.
But it's showtime
My public awaits
She is the vaccination
Required reading for
Science-fiction fascination
She is a figment of my imagination
Living in her pigment
Is living proof that we can survive anything
If magic made it
Because she is prestidigitation
She is a breath of fresh living wages
She is an antique library with sticking pages
And I sit encapsulated
In the worlds her words have created
She is the free activation
The free nighttime minutes
I don't have to wait till after 8
No longer afraid of past mistakes
I consulted with God to see
What He had to say
He said "Homie, she's the real deal
No fabrication
When I made her,
I threw the batch away
Because she was so immaculate
Even I had to step back and be like
'Damn I'm great'"
And after that, we sat our craft beers down
Of course I had to pay
I thanked Him immensely
As He took the cab away
She is the magistrate
Judge
Jury
Executioner
Every night a mattress slain
Don't mind me y'all
But she's my technicolor future
When the past was gray
I had to starve my fears
They start their fast today
She is my skeleton twin
Our melanin wins the master race
I mean, shit was a light jog
What more do I have to say?
It's no secret that books are often turned into movies. Keeping that in mind, we asked D.A. Alston who she'd select to be a part of the cast if given the opportunity to turn her book into a feature film.
Skai Jackson as Janais Wright
Skai Jackson starred as the adorable "Zuri Ross" on the Disney Channel sitcoms Jessie (2011) and Bunk'd (2015). Before that, she featured in small roles on Boardwalk Empire (2010), Royal Pains (2009) and The Smurfs (2011).
Syeda Mahpara as Adeema Hatem
Syeda Mahpara Shahid Bukhari, known as Syeda Mahpara or Mahpara Shahid is an international footballer from Pakistan and the current goalkeeper for the national team.
Emma Kenney as Libby Gray Dawson
Emma Kenney is known for her roles in Shameless (2011), Epic (2013) and Bittersweet (2008).
Kayla Maisonet as Kenzie Vega
Kayla Maisonet has been featured on Dog With A Blog, Haunted Hathaways and made a guest appearance in the NBC comedy sitcom Mulaney.
The Unlikely Tale Of The Royal Elite Squad is available now on Amazon, Kindle, B&N and Vital Narrative.
Beautiful onyx goddess
Who convinced you that your
Bronzed lips weren't hypnotic?
Intoxicating sun-kissed skin
Wasn't melodic?
Symphonic
In its infinite composition
Magnum opus
Hair like magic
No hocus-pocus
Just a crown that most peasants say won't fit
But you are a descendant of
Every ebony thing that comprises
The skies and the sun that rises
You are the embodiment of
A mother's cries through
Labor pains
As she presses out another diamond
To be mined by undeserving eyes
They'll try and tell you that you are wholesale
No real value
Costume jewelry
When truthfully
You are crystallization of civilization
No appraisal can ever convey your true value
Thick thighs and hips incapable of lies
Your shape they emulate
Through engineered attempts
But can never multiply
So they try to euthanize you
With European myths of beauty
When you transcend standards
You ARE the standard
The flag bearer
The mast on the ship
That they need to sink for their own validation
But goddess
You
Are
Unsinkable
Those jeans you can't quite pull up easily
That blouse you pour out of
Every broken bra strap
Every shown curve
Dips in hips
Are overtures
The religion of your thickness
Dipped in holy words
Embrace every nap and snag
That your coarse hair brings
Because they are parables
Fables for the gilded throne
From which your blackness swings
I loved you without knowing you
I bow in your invisible presence
I exalt you
I speak your name in hushed tones
So as not to besmirch it
But none of that matters
If the reflection in the mirror doesn't
Remind you that "she's worth it"
She deserves this pedestal
The gates of heaven all envy you
No mere mortal title
Can espouse how immortal your body is
My chocolate goddess is
As much god as God is
Because He made you in His likeness
So how can you NOT win?
I've grown to detest the stench of menthol
The fumes rising from my chest and neck
Invoke memories of mentholated cigarettes
And medical final resting places
Where the elderly exist in the exiting throes
Of their numbered days—
I smell very sanitary right now.
Even with my nose knowing no surcease
From perpetual blockage
I have reason to believe that it is 5:01
And I am dead.
I've always hated being ill
Even in complimentary street form
Where brothers on the block would hear
A hot sixteen
And fiend for a beat with my lyrics permeating
The track
They'd rub my words on their gums
Attach their tongue to every single syllable
But once the masquerade of mass-consumed
Hip-hop hit its stop
So too did the belief in me
Therefore,
I have reason to believe that it is now 5:04
And I died.
Head cold
Coughing, sneezing
Koffing
Weezing
Nothing showing up on my Pokemon Go radar
Sitting in this lawn chair with no lawn
Pondering the sounds of early morning
Wilderness
And how much I hate crickets—
(Both the insect and the phone company)
Contemplating the quickest distance
Between sleep heaven
And anxiety hell
Wanting to clock out from this cold and
Go grab lunch
Stay way past the designated time punch
Maybe head home
Who needs to be ungainfully employed anyway?
Many thanks to the red underline
Undermining my verbal authority and
Informing me that "ungainfully" isn't actually
A real word
Android apparently doesn't believe in it
And I have reason to believe
That it is now 5:09
And my phone
Is
Dead.
I was shot by a black police officer
I wanted to see what would cross the road first
The tint of his skin
Or the dye in his uniform
I saw past the gilded badge
Scratched the painted surface off and
Saw that the badge was in fact
White
On my dying breath,
I asked him if his parents were proud
He responded that he was raised by Lady Liberty
And Uncle Sam
He said he wanted to make a difference
I said you don't subtract black youths
Take away their lives
Minus their existences
And call the result a difference
What kind of math involves a bloodbath
Who are you to bathe in the skin
Of gods and empresses
Only to represent the new true blue supremacists
Who would rather see you dead with us
Than standing with them?
How many innocent microaggressive jokes did you clench your teeth at around the water cooler when your brothers-in-arms bragged about harming your kind?
We live in a post-racial society
Where racism goes viral in each and every single post
And cops like you shoot guns to shoot videos and watermark Worldstar on the bottom of the screen
There is no applause for my destruction
But when you killed yourself to become this badge
You were met with
Uproarious praise and swore to love, honor and obey your master
As you traded your black for blue
You bruise brothers
And accuse mothers of not raising their children right
As you play judge jury and executionHER
Name stained with the grand larceny of the life you've stolen
Standard-issue bullets riddle frames and autopsy photos with your imprinted fingerprints tattooed permanent ink on holsters
You who are the prime suspect
Protected by the civil servant veneer
Sterling silver reputation among your peers
Because when Alton Sterling was murdered, you cheered
One day
Your duty will call to the house you grew up in
How the neighborhhood has changed
There's a Starbucks where the corner store used to be
You'll receive a report that said the suspect is black whose hue looks just like you
And is impersonating an officer
And is considered armed and dangerous
And you'll shoot to kill
You won't ask questions
You'll just fire
And let the red tape bury the context
And then you'll be buried next to me
Because you
Were the prime suspect
Recently, I was asked a question I couldn’t answer. Not for lack of trying; I did everything I could to try and push myself toward resolution, but every step I took felt rushed and wrong. An hours-long Google search eventually brought me to a website that sold these little bundles of herbs and gemstones that promised to realign my energies and “clarify my mind.” It was cheap, so I was suspicious—but I was also desperate.
When the package got to my house, it was too heavy to bring inside. I opened it on my porch and found out why: instead of a mixture of stones, there was a chunk of white quartz nearly as big as the box itself and a pound of uncut sage. The only other thing in the box was a note: To find the answer to your questions, you must take raw material and raw energy and combine them until they create something new.
I was at a loss—I can barely cut cake, let alone a gemstone. Going at it with a hacksaw didn’t work. Whacking it with sledgehammer didn’t dent it. I even dropped it off the roof of a four-story building a few times. It was also hit by a car (and I learned the hard way that insurance doesn’t cover quartz damage).
Still, even though I hadn’t an epiphany or an answer—and I now had two problems instead of one—I couldn’t give up. The sage and stone stayed on my doorstep while the question remained unanswered, no matter how many methods I revisited.
One night, I got so frustrated that I set the sage in a pile on top of the stone, lit it on fire...
And watched the whole thing melt into my porch.
It wasn’t quartz at all. In fact, I have no idea what it was, but it left a wide, translucent puddle over the red brick of my front porch. When the sun strikes it, it looks like a shimmering sheet of ice; in the moonlight, it looks more like a patch of algae. It’s slick to the touch, almost like marble, and it will not move. Except when it gets bigger. I feel a tremor when I’m near it, and I don’t step on it unless I have to. It seems to be vibrating gently and constantly in its place on the porch. (Or maybe it’s speaking.)
Whatever it’s doing—whatever it is—it still hasn’t helped me answer the question. And after all this, I wasn’t sure I could give a good answer.
So I came back to the question and wrote a story instead.
