November 17th-18th, 2020: Gay, Autistic college student Matt Slater starts up the Cascades Stories website, with the first post, “Introduction,” Being posted at 9:59 PM on the 17th. HOWEVER, the website is officially registered on the 18th.
December 9th-11th, 2020: The Social Media Pages for Cascades Stories are created on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube.
December 24th, 2020: Matt submits “The Aviary of Henry Weston,” a short story, to the Reedsy weekly Prompts contest.
January 3rd, 2021: “The Aviary of Henry Weston” also marks the beginning of the Wattpad/Tapas collection “Short Stories by Matt Slater,” featuring short stories and poems from SLS too small for their own book. After a few months of being unposted during the judging for the Writer’s Digest Short Story Competition, “The Aviary of Henry Weston” has been re-added to the collection.
February 2nd, 2021: “The Friend Lock,” also a Reedsy story, is posted on CS.
March 28th, 2021: “Carousel, Carousel” is posted. This is the first poem posted on CS, as well as the first writing by Matt Slater to not have come out of a prompt.
July 11th, 2021: “The Curious Store (AKA Tracing Patterns)” is posted on CS. While originally written for a Creative Writing assignment at Matt’s college, there was no prompt for this story, either. Rather, Matt wanted to write a story from the perspective of a gay, autistic man, and better explain what “stimming” is.
July 13th, 2021: Cascades Stories becomes Six Lakes Studios, as a tribute to his hometown, Lakewood, Washington (neither he nor his family live there anymore), and to his grandmother.
July 30th, 2021: Matt mistakenly publishes the first chapter of The Waterfall two days early. He later unpublished the post, and rescheduled it for the planned premiere on August 1st, 2021.
August 1st, 2021: Matt’s first multi-part story, The Waterfall, gets its first chapter published here, on Wattpad, and on Tapas.However, further chapters are only posted on Tapas and Wattpad.
September 20th, 2021: Matt turns 20 years old.
September 20th, 2021: The Vikings of Vancouver, Matt’s first comic,premieres here, on Webtoon, and on Tapas.
September 10th and 25th, 2021: Turning into darker works, Matt writes “The Runaways” for the Reedsy Weekly Prompts Contest for September 10th, 2021. Posted on SLS on the 25th of the same month, the Runaways did not win that contest, similar to the other stories submitted to past contests. However, “The Runaways,” as of November 18th, 2021, turned out to be Matt‘s most popular story on Reedsy, with 13 likes. “The Aviary of Henry Weston” is in second place, at nine likes, while “The Friend Lock” has five, and the original version of “The Waterfall,” which was disqualified, has one.
October 25th, 2021: The First Chapter of Blurred Lines #1: The Choir is published, and, sticking to his personal rule, Matt only published the first chapter here, while further chapters will arrive on Wattpad and Tapas.
November 18th, 2021: Six Lakes Studios turns one!!!!
November 18th, 2021: Matt Slater posts SLS’s anniversary video, thanking everyone who has supported SLS in its growth. This is the first video from SLS.
December 2021: Mason and Eric, the 2021 Christmas Special, will premiere. [Postponed, but not canceled]
December 31st, 2021: After this day, The Vikings of Vancouver, will only update on Tapas and Webtoon.
January 1st, 2022: Parker and Luca, Matt’s second comic, will premiere.
January 1st, 2022: “Formerly Cascades Stories” will be dropped from the site title.
February 14th, 2022: Matt, Matt’s third comic, will premiere.
February 2022: Max Fields #1 will premire.
April 15th, 2022: After this day, Parker and Luca will only update on Webtoon and Tapas.
May 2022: Tales of human Nature: Serial Killer will premiere.
May 31st, 2022: After this day, Matt will only update on Webtoon and Tapas.
October 2022: The Nightman of Bellingham Bay will premiere.
2022: SLS will be on Patreon!
2022: Matt will begin drafting the full-length version of “The Aviary of Henry Weston.”
2022: Matt will begin drafting the full-length Graphic Novel (yup, Graphic!) adaption of “The Runaways.” He will not illustrate it, however.
Evan Samuels drove his truck up the mountain. His breath was shaky, and he remained focused on the road ahead despite the fact that his brain was processing 2,000 thoughts per second.
He was dressed rather slovenly: torn jeans, one gray sock, one blue sock, five-year-old tennis shoes that were showing their age, a camo t-shirt, a flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off, a beige double-breasted coat, and titanium tunnels stretching his earlobes to a centimeter.
His hands kept moving from the steering wheel to adjust his glasses, or change the radio, or brush his pink hair. He had no idea where he was going, but he didn’t care. He just needed to keep driving until he found a good place to stay for the night. But, of course, that might have to be the truck: it was snowing, it was eleven, and this was the middle of nowhere.
Suddenly, the truck started sputtering.
“No. Please not now.”
Luckily, there was a diner with a parking lot to pull into. The restaurant looked sketchy, though.
No way in hell in I’m going in there.
He steered into the parking, put on his gloves, got out of his truck, and fetched the toolbox out of the flatbed.
Popping open the hood, he set the toolbox down on the bumper and put his hands on his hips as he surveyed all the gizmos inside the truck.
“Oh, who am I kidding?” he said to himself. “I don’t know cars.”
“Apparently not,” someone said, “Because that’s a truck.”
Despite the cold, snowy weather around him, Evan started to sweat.
“G-God?” he eeked out.
“Nope. But I have been called an angel and a demon by numerous people.”
Evan slowly turned towards the man the voice belonged to.
He saw a very attractive man in front of him: golden hair, short stubble, a thick down jacket, worn jeans, steel-toed boots on snowshoes, and a small gold hoop in each ear.
“Just come into the diner, I’ll have someone look at it in the morning.”
Evan blinked. “Um… no?”
The man chuckled. “I guess that sounded a little creepy given the circumstances.”
“Yep.”
The man stuck out his hand.
“Jim. Jim Crumb.”
“Evan.”
“Evan what?”
“Nice try.”
The man laughed.
“What do you take me for, son? A backwoods gun nut? Just grab your tool box, and come into the diner.”
Evan realized that unless he wanted to freeze to death, he had no other choice. So he grabbed the toolbox and followed Jim into the diner. Before he went in, though, he finally read the sign: “Jim’s Diner.”
“This is your diner?” Evan asked.
“Yup. Has been since 1988.”
~*~
Inside the diner, Evan froze and blushed a deep red as five men and four women sitting at the tables looked at him.
“Who’s the fresh meat?” a large, beefy man grunted.
Evan yelped and tried to run out the door, but Jim caught him.
“Joe,” Jim hollered. “Shut up and eat your steak.”
Joe shook his head and turned back to his steak.
Joe had black hair and a thick black beard. He wore blue jeans, a flannel shirt, black work boots, and had some tattoos poking out onto his neck.
“Sit down, let me get you a menu,” said Jim before disappearing into the kitchen.
Evan gulped. He had no idea who any of these people were, and there was no place in this small, roadside diner where he wouldn’t be less than a yard away from one of them.
“What are you afraid of, boy? Sit!” a short-haired brunette woman rumbled.
Evan took a deep breath, sliding into the nearest booth.
After what felt like hours, Jim finally came out with a menu for Evan: four pages of assorted breakfast foods and hearty burgers.
Another man came out of the kitchen.
“All right Jim,” the man said. “Where did you find this one?”
“His pickup broke down outside the diner.”
The man looked at Evan with a serious glare, scanning him up and down. Evan blushed even more now. Where the hell was he?!
“All right, Aaron,” said Jim. “You’ll have time to grill him after introductions.”
“Fine,” said Aaron. “I’m Aaron Stevenson, Jim’s husband.”
Evan’s eyes widened. “H-Husband?”
“You got a problem with that, punk?”
“No! Please don’t hurt me!” Evan yelped as he put his arms in front as a defense.
“Aaron!” Jim snapped.
Jim turned back to Evan. “Sorry about that, he’s a bit hot-headed. And anyway, we’re not legally married, but we have a son together. We’ve been together, oh… what has it been, 19 years now?”
“Yep,” Aaron said, softening a little. “If that’s not common-law, I don’t know what is.”
Aaron was tall- probably 6’3”- and well-built. His short, red hair smoothly connected to his short beard, which rested above a heavily tattooed body wearing a grease-soaked red apron and white t-shirt, work boots, white socks, half-inch tunnels in each ear, and, sure enough, jeans, as well. In fact, everyone was wearing jeans, except for the woman who told Evan to sit down, who had on ski pants, and the teenage boy in the corner, who wore torn khakis.
“Actually,” said Evan, “knowing you guys are a couple makes me feel a little better. I’m gay, too.”
Jim smiled. “I had my suspicions, I’ll be honest.”
The other patrons started smiling, as well.
“Damn it, son,” the brunette from earlier said. “What are the odds you’d end up here?”
“He’s one of us,” her companion, a skinny redheaded woman, said.
“All right,” said Aaron. “What’s your name, new guy?”
“Evan Samuels.”
The teenager got up from his chair and slid into Evan’s booth. He held his hand out, giving Evan a flirty stare.
“Zeke Crumb-Stevenson,” he said.
“Hello,” said Evan, taking Zeke’s hand.
“This our son,” said Jim.
“Who always acts like he’s smarter than us,” said Aaron.
“He is smarter than you,” said the brunette woman.
“Well, he sure as hell doesn’t need to act like it!”
Zeke leaned in closer to Evan. “I graduated high school at 16,” he said.
“And you’re…” started Evan.
“Nineteen. Currently at the university for Meteorology.”
“That’s pretty cool. I got my bachelor’s in Geography.”
“Nice. How old are you?”
“22.”
“And he won’t buy beer for you,” Joe joked.
Zeke blushed. “Gross, no. I hate beer.”
“And just how do you know that?” Aaron questioned.
“All right, all right, maybe we should let Evan order already,” said Jim.
Everyone looked to Evan.
“I’ll need another minute,” he said.
Jim and Aaron walked back into the kitchen. Evan gazed over the menu. However, he felt eyes still on him. He looked up, and Zeke was still there.
Zeke was raven-haired, except for some green stripes, with a pink t-shirt, a white hoodie wrapped around his waist, red tennis shoes, and a lime green solitaire stud in each ear, as well as an industrial in his right.
“Hey,” said Zeke, grabbing Evan’s hand again. “Is that a tattoo I see?”
Zeke pushed Evan’s coat sleeve up to reveal part of an ivy-leaf vine tattoo going up his right arm.
“It’s pretty cool,” Zeke continued.
“Here,” said Evan, “I have some other ones too.”
Evan slid his coat off and rolled his shirt sleeves up to reveal numerous other examples of skin art.
“Impressive,” said the brunette woman, “but you should see Jill’s.”
The redheaded woman rolled her eyes before rolling up her jeans, showing off a blue viper going up her left leg.
“That’s pretty cool, Jill,” said Evan.
Jill was wearing a parka with snow boots, small gauges, and a backward ball cap.
“I’m sorry,” Evan said to the brunette woman, “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Maggie,” she responded.
Unlike Jill, Maggie kept her hair pretty short. She wore a blue fleece coat, snow boots, and small silver hoops. She also wore glasses with thick black rims, much like Evan’s.
Aaron and Jim came back out.
“Alright, kid,” said Jim. “See anything on the menu yet?”
Evan handed him the menu. “I’ll take the chicken fried steak and some orange juice.”
Aaron swiped the menu. “Good choice.”
He went back through the kitchen door, and Evan saw him through the service window as he took his place in front of the stove.
“So, kid…” said Joe. “What’s your story?”
“Well, I’m originally from Montana, just outside Missoula. My family’s very traditional, but I decided that I would come out to them before the millennium. Well, my dad’s brother had gotten him this beautiful truck for Christmas. I thought he would be in a good mood after that, but I was wrong. He kicked me out.”
“Wow. That’s rough, Evan,” said Zeke.
“Wait…” said Jim. “Didn’t you come here in a pickup truck?”
Everyone turned to Evan, whose face turned red with embarrassment.
“Well…” He started, “I’m not proud of this- I almost never do anything like this, and I don’t even have a record. But the way he reacted- I- I…” he picked the keys and twirled them on his finger. “I guess I just snapped.”
Jim sighed, putting his hand on Evan’s shoulder.
“Look, Evan,” he said. “We all do stuff we’re not proud of. I had a record back before I met Aaron. Believe me, if I hadn’t met him, I’d be in a very bad place right now.”
“Tell him how you met, dad,” said Zeke, using his foot to drag a chair over to the booth.
“All right,” Jim said, taking that seat. “It was 1980. I was at this gas station in Tukwila, filling my car, when this tall twig of an 18-year-old in church clothes jumped in my car. I yelled at him to get out, but he insisted that I drive him away. Turns out, he had just escaped from conversion therapy. I still wanted him out of my car, but he kept insisting, even offering to pay me. After a while, I finally broke down, and drove us both out of there. I was headed to Spokane, and he just wanted to get away from the ‘camp.’ But by the time we got to Leavenworth, we had grown on each other. So we stopped here-“
“And managed to rub off on each other,” said Aaron, placing Evan’s dinner on the table. “I got him to clean up his act, and he got me to loosen mine up. I mean, look at me,” he continued, gesturing to his ear gauges and tattoos, “do I look like a church kid anymore?”
“Evan,” said Joe, “stealing that truck was not a good decision, but you’re not alone. We all have stories. We’re all running away from something, whether it be trouble or homophobia.”
“Welcome to the Runaways, kid,” said Jill.
~*~
11:59 PM
While everyone else was inside awaiting the advent of the 3rd Millenium, Evan joined Zeke outside on the porch of Jim and Aaron’s upstairs apartment.
“Hey,” Evan said. “What are you doing out here?”
“I just needed a break from the party.”
Evan nodded, looking back at the party.
“10! 9! 8!” everyone inside chanted.
Evan turned back to Zeke, who was acting rather shy right now.
“Hey,” said Evan taking a surprised Zeke’s hand.
They leaned closer.
Midnight, Saturday, January 1st, 2000
They gave each other a kiss as the people inside cheered.
“Happy New Millenium, Zeke,” said Evan.
“Happy Y2K, car thief.”
Evan gave Zeke a playful punch on the shoulder.
“Hey, now, I just gave you a kiss.”
They chuckled as they reopened the sliding door, rejoining the party.
Evan never thought he would find a group like the Runaways. But these people, with their similarities and differences, managed to create a family for themselves. After Evan had been getting to know them for a while, he became of member of this family as well. And that’s what everyone needs, whether they be chosen or not: a family you can lean on.
Set your story in a roadside diner. (Prompt #1, Sept.10th, 2021, Reedsy Weekly Prompts Contest)
Patty Newman sat in her grandfather’s attic, sorting through all the items he had left with the help of her wife, Tess.
“Grandpa lived a full life,” Patty remarked. “I just know he’s up in the sky with grandma now.”
“Murray was a good man,” said Tess. “This town won’t be the same without him.”
Patty pulled a boxed of unsorted photographs off the bottom shelf of the bookcase.
“Photos,” she read. “March 1957-October 1958.”
“Yeesh. Didn’t your grandparents have photo albums?”
“Yes, but the Newmans take so many pictures, there’s not enough photo albums in the world.”
Patty opened the box and saw a big pile of photos of her grandpa’s family. He looked so young in the pictures.
“Just take that home, Patty,” said Tess. “We need to finish the house by Friday.”
But Patty saw a curious-looking photo resting on top of the pile. It was a photo of Murray and a boy she recognized from other photos as his childhood best friend, Fred. However, in this photo, Fred held Murray how one would carry a newlywed over the threshold. It looked like they were at a party.
“Whatcha’ got there?” asked Tess.
Patty flipped over the photo and found some writing on the back.
South Clatsop Homophile Association, February ‘58 Meeting.
Patty then read the inscription below that, written in different ink.
Patty, I knew this photo would get your attention. You see, I am bisexual. This isn’t something I shared with many people. People in my generation rarely discussed sexuality in public or with family, outside of activists. There’s more information in the diary under the baseboard behind the parlor TV.
Patty found the diary and brought it into the kitchen, where she and Tess were taking a lunch break.
“This is surprising,” said Tess. “I knew he was accepting, but I didn’t know he was bi.”
“Neither did he, apparently,” said Patty, “But Fred helped open his eyes.”
Patty read the diary out loud to Tess over their lunch.
Location: The forest outside France, Oregon
Time: 3:18 PM, Monday, July 15th, 1946
Ten-year-old Murray Newman sat on the bank of the France River, near the base of Berberry Falls. He watched as the wooden sailboat his uncle gifted to him during his Fourth-of-July visit. It was peaceful to watch as the boat floated gracefully down the river.
Suddenly, the boat started going faster. And then over a tiny drop.
“Uh oh,” he said to himself. He needed to catch the boat before it got too far away.
He ran towards the bend, hoping he’d get to the boat before it got to the fast part of the river.
But someone pulled the boat out. Murray ran up to the boy who had rescued the tiny vessel.
“Looks like your Navy went AWOL,” the boy said.
“Thank you so much,” said Murray.
“Name’s Fred Stavridis. I’m new in town. I’m starting sixth grade at the Public School next month.”
He held out his hand, which Murray shook.
“Murray Newman. I’m starting fifth grade there, but I turn eleven on September 2nd.
“What do you know?” Fred remarked. “That’s when I turn twelve.”
“Well ain’t that on the beam?”
“Listen, if you want, maybe we could race boats sometime. I have a great one my grandpa got for me a while back.”
“Sounds fun.”
The boys walked back towards town, chatting away with each other.
France, Oregon
3:23 PM, Friday, April 14th, 1950
Fred and Murray became fast friends and were almost inseparable over the next few years. But still, Murray was a year younger than Fred, so he wasn’t part of the same social circles at school.
Meanwhile, the France High School Varsity Baseball Team did not have a great track record, so they were searching hard for a hitter who could get them ahead. But the team had some… “concerns” when their pitcher, Fred, suggested his eggheaded younger friend, Murray.
“The hell are thinking, trying to bring that twig onto the team?” said Coach Dilbert. “He’ll put us further back! Worse than last place!”
“Yeah, Fred,” said Jimmy, the catcher. “He’s an egghead. The other teams will eat him up.”
But Fred was adamant.
“Murray and I played baseball all the time with my family. He’s plenty capable. You jerks have just never seen him play.”
“Guys?” said Murray.
Everyone looked over at Murray.
“As much as I’m enjoying this conversation,” he continued, “just let me show you what I’ve got.”
The team begrudgingly walked out onto Beach Street Field. Fred was about to walk onto the pitching mound, but coach Dilbert stopped him.
“Absolutely not,” he told Fred. “You’ll pitch to his advantage. I’ll do it.”
“Fine,” Fred replied. “If that’s the only way you’ll give him a chance.”
Coach Dilbert took the mound. Murray stepped up to the plate. As the coach wound up to throw a whopper at Murray, the other teammates looked at Fred, who firmly held a confident glare at the diamond.
Coach Dilbert threw a curveball at the young, skinny, left-handed batter. He then watched in awe as the ball flew high over the fence, landing far into the beach.
Coach Dilbert turned back to Murray, smugly smiling at the coach.
“Beginner’s luck,” the coach dismissed.
Except it wasn’t. After the coach and three different pitchers, Murray’s tryout ended with him batting .325.
Needless to say, he made the team.
6:39 PM, Friday, June 2nd, 1950
The France High Swordfish were finally free of their dismal record. They finished the 1950 season with a final score of 75-70, third in the league. The team decided to throw a party after their last game of the season at Fred’s family’s restaurant.
Fred smiled at Murray, who sat across from him, eating spanakopita.
“What?!” asked Murray, blushing.
“I’m just so proud of you,” said Fred.
“Oh, this little thing?” Murray humbly bragged as he caressed the Team MVP award given to him by Coach Dilbert.
“Knock it off,” said Kevin, the right-fielder. “Don’t let this get to your head, but you are the best damn player this team has ever had on its roster.”
“Three cheers for Murray!” someone shouted.
Three hours later, Murray was in Fred’s bathroom, getting his pajamas on for the sleepover he was having with Fred.
“Hey Fred?” he called to his friend through the door.
“Yeah?” Fred asked while looking through his baseball cards.
“What do you think of Hannah Graber?”
“That girl from your English class? She’s alright, I guess. I don’t know her that well. Why?”
“I think she’s sweet on me.”
Fred froze in the middle of turning the page. He couldn’t figure out why, but he was somewhat bothered by this revelation. Was he jealous because he liked Hannah, too? Nah, that couldn’t be it. He barely knew her. He maybe talked to her all of two times.
Murray came out of the bathroom.
“What do you think?” Murray continued.
“About what?”
“Fred! Do you think she likes me?”
Fred thought for a moment. He knew he didn’t like Hannah, but he still felt jealous. Was it because he wanted a girl to like him?
“No,’ Fred answered. “I wouldn’t go for it unless you know for certain. Plus, I may not know her that well, but my sister does, and I overheard her tell one of her friends that she likes Jimmy Elkins.”
“Damn!” Murray exclaimed. “Of course she likes him. All the girls like him! It’s so unfair.”
Murray sighed. He was definitely disappointed.
Except Fred lied. He couldn’t figure out why, but this was making him incredibly jealous.
Another three hours passed, and Murray was dead asleep on the bottom bunk of Fred’s bed.
Fred, however, was wide awake. He couldn’t fall asleep. He kept trying to figure out why he was jealous that Murray was interested in Hannah.
Fred climbed off the top bunk and headed into the bathroom.
While washing his hands, Fred’s mind started to wander.
So what if Murray likes Hannah? Fred thought. That shouldn’t make me jealous. I don’t like her that way. And so what if she likes Murray? I don’t know if she does. My sister might.
What’s wrong with me?! Fred wondered as he turned off the sink. Do I wish someone would like me? Do I want to feel this way about someone? Of course, I do? But who? I tried dating that girl Lisa last year, but it just didn’t feel right. Who the hell do I want to have feelings for me? Who do I like?
Fred exited the bathroom and saw Murray’s face illuminated in the moonlight shining through the window. He snuggled his pillow against his face and laid with his right knee pulled up to his chest. Fred smiled when he saw this.
Maybe Hannah does like Murray, Fred thought to himself. Why wouldn’t she? Look at him. He’s probably the cutest kid at sch-
That’s when it hit him. Fred had finally realized why he was jealous. He didn’t want Murray to date Hannah…
…because he wanted to date Murray.
Thank you for reading the WordPress preview of The Waterfall. This is the only chapter that will be published here. For future chapters please check the Six Lakes Studios Wattpad and Tapas Pages on Sundays.
Based on the prompt “Start your story with someone discovering a photograph that has something written on the back.” Reedsy Prompts, week of July 23rd, 2021.
If you are subscribed to SLS on WordPress, you may have gotten an email showing you the first chapter of my new story, The Waterfall.
However, that was not supposed to be seen by ANYONE until August 1st at 4:30 PM PST. It was accidentally published due to an error on my part. Please do not share the story!
The Waterfall Ch. 1, now that the scheduling is fixed, should premiere on the above date, like planned, on Tapas, Wattpad, and here. The following chapters will be uploaded on Sundays on Wattpad and Tapas, but not here. Sorry about that, but I don’t want to crowd the homepage with all the chapters of my longer stories.
Sorry about the mixup!
If you are not yet subscribed to this blog, please do, but also, please read the first chapter of The Waterfall on Sunday!
If you are subscribed, and received the email with the first chapter, then please, again, don’t share it! Let it be our little temporary secret 😉.
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