conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a story about It&#x92;s, Keith, Beschi with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Poetry?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this story could be 'Heart of the Beast'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this story.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Heart of the Beast
  Our plane gleamed, painted red and white like an ambulance. The sides of it read in bold black letters: THE UNITED TRIBES. Below, a silhouette of an Indian chief in full headdress stared nobly out, an auralike circle emanating from him. The tail marking was R74727.
  Henry removed blocks from the wheels. He flipped the cowling up over the engines, and strained fuel. It dripped out a light blue.Climbing up on the wings, he checked the gauge to determine if they were full, and tested the ailerons, the flaps located there. Henry was thorough; he walked around the plane making sure the cables were connected and the movement worked free and clear. Ike had never been so attentive. Then Henry dragged the plane out by its front wheel, watching that the wings weren't clipped by the doors.
  He buttoned up the flaps, climbed into the cockpit, flipped the master-switch on, and said, "Get in."
  I heard the gyros winding up on the turn coordinator. I couldn't stand that sound, like a live wire in my head. It was not of this earth. It reminded me of Ike, the coyotes, and the last cattle drive when everything blew apart.
  Henry turned the yoke, pulling it out and in. My copilot yoke mirrored Henry's movement as if a ghost sat in my seat.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: I watched my father working like a maniac, harder and harder each day. I wondered why he even bothered to sleep anymore. I sized up the LVT because I knew the task of driving it would eventually fall to me. It did look like a tank, boxy with trapezoid-shaped tracks that went up at splayed angles.
  A treaded ramp at the back worked up and down with a crank. The hold where the troops stood was partially covered. Up in the front, by the ignition and gears, a turret swiveled out of the roof for a gunner.
  Army-navy surplus wasn't new to me; we had the Monster, the Auto Car, and the water tanker for fire season. Every single one of them was a bitch to drive: the gears ground, the steering slopped out, and the brakes worked only if you had legs of steel. All were colored Marine Corps dark green, a white star prominently placed on the side. In the case of the LVT, it glowed smack in the middle of the tracks.
  I had to admit it was perfect for cattle, just like a stock truck that floated. "There anything the matter with it?" I asked, watching him work deliriously on the tracks. There was always something wrongwith the things Ike came home with. "The armor?" I continued, pointing to his ratchet.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: "The armor?" I continued, pointing to his ratchet.. There was always something wrongwith the things Ike came home with. "There anything the matter with it?" I asked, watching him work deliriously on the tracks.
  I had to admit it was perfect for cattle, just like a stock truck that floated. In the case of the LVT, it glowed smack in the middle of the tracks. All were colored Marine Corps dark green, a white star prominently placed on the side. Every single one of them was a bitch to drive: the gears ground, the steering slopped out, and the brakes worked only if you had legs of steel.
  Army-navy surplus wasn't new to me; we had the Monster, the Auto Car, and the water tanker for fire season. Up in the front, by the ignition and gears, a turret swiveled out of the roof for a gunner. The hold where the troops stood was partially covered.
  A treaded ramp at the back worked up and down with a crank. It did look like a tank, boxy with trapezoid-shaped tracks that went up at splayed angles. I sized up the LVT because I knew the task of driving it would eventually fall to me. I wondered why he even bothered to sleep anymore.I watched my father working like a maniac, harder and harder each day
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The house felt full when we walked in. It was always full now that the heads had come home. They didn't jump out at me anymore. Muted and quiet, they blended into the walls as if they were part of my house. I went in and looked at the bronzes in the green room: John Winter, as ugly as he ever was; next to him, his son, complicit in their swindles, the horse trader, the bon vivant; Dagmar, with the truly dark Norwegian look, the skin that was transparent, and the mood that was toxic; the barrister and chronicler, Mark; and his lifeless wife, Emma, whom he hung around my father's neck. They all looked the same.
  It was only when I looked at Ike and Elise that I noticed a change. They had become mine; it didn't make me uncomfortable to be in the same room with them anymore. It wasn't that their appearance was any more handsome, beautiful, ugly, or ruthless. They had softened, like rain on our dry land. I saw bits of myself in their faces, and theirs in mine. Finally, I was able to see the best parts of them.
  I walked up to my mother and father. Henry stopped behind me; he just stood there, holding me. I knew what he was doing, trying to see what I saw. I don't think Henry noticed that my mother finally acknowledged me. I stood in front of her, there on her pedestal in front of the window that led out to the Columbia River, and she looked at me.
  Henry and I waited for the depth of the storm. The rain finally came down. The sound of it covered the house with a floating peacefulness. It wasn't the tone of a grieving rain; it was the timbre of forgiveness. I glanced back at my mother and thought of her words. It's rare when it happens, but it is possible that water will rise. I gazed back down to the river over the freshly seeded land, dark brown and rich. I looked down there with all the hope in the world for the harvest.