Analy High School - Azalea Yearbook (Sebastopol, CA)

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LONESOME By Eva Williamson Fifth Prize HE camp-fire flickered, blazed up, then the last log parted and dropped, trembling, to the edge of the coals. No one stirred. No one pieced together the dying embers. One thought was uppermost in the minds of all—that of the runaway boy. His disposition was puzzling, the mother admit¬ ted; his fiery temper burst into flame without any definite reason or previous warning. But these storms were soon over and then a period of calm seriousness would follow, a time when shame and pride were uppermost and he “just couldn’t” face anybody. At these times his mother reflected even her affection would only bring a shrug to his shoulders, especially if others besides the two were present at the time. And then this morning—the little woman shivered and drew her shawl more closely about her. Oh, the thought of that uncontrolable burst of temper, that dogged expression on his face as he said, yes he had really said, “Someday you’ll be sorry.” And that someday had come, this very day at noon. When they had blown the bugle for lunch all had eagerly responded to the summons, except Dick. He had not come; and when a search was made near the camp, no trace of him was found except his cap, where he had thrown it as he left them so hastily in the morning. Nobody, except the mother, was alarmed. It was a common occurrence for this unnatural child to wander over the hills with no companion but his dog. Dick was not a mixer, he was inclined to moroseness. At these times he wanted to be left alone to fight out his troubles with his dog as chief advisor. “He’ll come back tonight, remember he has never spent a night away from you in his life,” Dick’s father said, in an at¬ tempt to pacify the silent, troubled gaze of his wife. The family was at Iron Bluff camp for the annual hunt. Iron Bluff was a gigantic cliff, nearly two hundred feet high, whose huge face of slate-colored rock made it as stern and unre¬ lenting as iron. At the base of the cliff, in a small ravine, two 27

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her feet, she jerked the line and hooked the fish. When she saw it she almost gave a whoop of joy for it was a beauty and quite big, but she controlled her joy and very sedately baited again, although her heart was thumping wildly under her faded gingham gown. Surely the gods were in her favor, for it seemed that as fast as she could bait her hook and cast her line, she got a bite; nearly always she got them, and when at length she could tell it was approaching dinner time she had an even dozen, one especially large. This time she crossed the field as if she had wings on her feet, and although they ached, she cooled them in the cold water and went on until she came to the big gate which opened on to the hot road. Here she sat waiting for the boys; she saw them both approaching in a few minutes. “Oh, Mary Ann,” cried Bud, “I got four beauties and he only got two, and small at that; did you have any luck ?” “Oh, well, I only got twelve; I was so disappointed,” said Mary Ann, fanning herself and gazing calmly over their heads. Both boys gasped and crowded around her, eagerly asking where she had fished and praising their size. With new respect in their eyes they started out on their long journey home, telling how they had never had such bad luck before. Certainly victory was for Mary Ann. When they reached Tom’s house the smell of cookies was wafted out to them, and as of one accord they approached the kitchen door. They sat on the porch munching their cookies while Chubby begged for crumbs. “Say,” said Tom, “I think you’re a peach of a girl; you never even yelled nor hollered when the worms wriggled and you’re sure some fisher!” Bud nooded his approval of what was said, but Mary Ann only smiled, the world-wide smile, and took another cookie. 26

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protecting oaks served as shelter for the camp. The camp-fire was somewhat apart from the camp, near a swiftly running stream with the dark face of the cliff, clearly outlined against the sky, directly above it. “Some day you’ll be sorry”—that phrase still rang in the ears of the mother. Why couldn’t she forget it? How she wished now that she had given him the gun, just for an hour. It might not have been so bad as this—this suspense and worry. The children stirred. They did not realize how serious it was. To them it was only another of Dick’s moods, only another time when he wished to be alone. A light breeze sprang up. Then the mother thought of her other children. She hurried the younger ones off to their firry beds and tucked them in while the pine needles rattled cheerily under the dead weight of their weary little bodies. Then she crept back to the fire. Always a wistful little creature with deep brown eyes, she looked even more wistful and thoughtful as she again took her seat by the fire, beneath the giant cliff. Jip had not gone with the boy. Early in the morning he had skulked under the wagons and had not come out, even for his meals in spite of the tempting offerings and insistent coaxings of the children. If he had only been with Dick it would have been so much easier to bear it all. Something rubbed against the mother’s skirts. It was Jip, who had crept from his hiding place at last, when he realized that others, besides himself, were troubled and needed comfort¬ ing. While the mother, the father and the boon companion of this runaway boy sat in silence before the fire, something fell with a dull thud on the fading coals and they immediately burst into flame, crackling away with renewed life and vigor. Hope and expectancy shone in the eyes of the mother, perhaps caused by the cheerful blaze of the fire, but it is more probable that she saw what the moon saw—a small, shivering body flattened against the summit of the cliff, alone, frightened, with an ache in his heart to be “tucked in” by the hands that had tucked him in every night for ten years. Jip whined, then stretched his long body, tired from its cramped position. The mother urged her husband to leave her, saying that she would come soon. “He will want to find me alone when he comes,” she said. So she waited, under the stars, with 28