Quincy High School - Goldenrod Yearbook (Quincy, MA)

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REPAIR WORK By Wi-nona Mutch QANCY, stop acting like a child! Has it come to the point where I must com- mand you to go into that ballroom?” Nancy, eyes blazing, faced her mother defiantly. “I can’t help it! I refuse to force myself on people! Can’t you under- stand that I’m not—! “No, I can’t! Stop balking! A girl as lovely as you should be as unconscious with these people as you are with working men. You could be, if you wished!” “Mother, don’t you suppose I want to be popular? Why should I come to a ball like this just to sit, and feel silly all evening? I won't go in there! You forced me here, but you cant (jet me past this threshold! Just be- cause Ronald Barnaby—!” “Keep quiet! Here he comes!” Clutching Nancy’s reluctant arm and radiating cordiality, she stepped forward to greet the young man who was passing. Smiling sweetly, one fluttering hand on Nancy’s arm, the other pat- ting her hair, she asked: “Nancy, you remember Ronald, do you not? I have the cunningest snap- shot of you as babies playing to- gether on our lawn.” Then, through the haze of her em- barrassment jabbing her program card against the wall, dropping it. twisting her lacy handkerchief. Nancy saw a tall man with shiny dark hair and delicate looking hands, certainly not the hands of the explorer he was supposed to be, and heard herself saying in a choked voice, “Of course, how do you do?” Excusing himself, Ronald soon left them with a request for a dance later on. Then, the partners. Old men. fat men, bald men, uncles, fathers, a scattering of dutiful young men. And through it all, her mother’s watchful, sharp eyes and the acute consciousness of that sleek, black, self-confident head continually sur- rounded by perfect marcels and fluffy dresses. Then, suddenly, a deep voice. “You promised me a dance, Nancy. May I have this one?” “Certainly;” she gasped. It was painfully long. Vainly she searched her mind for something to say. She felt her mother’s eyes bor- ing into her back constantly. The music seemed as if it would go on forever. Then, it ended. A failure! A bleak, bare failure, as usual. Oh, to get away from it all: some place away from mocking explorers with perfectly groomed ham's and sleek black hair! Then she saw her mother sweep- ing rapidly, eagerlv, upon her. “Well—?” Nancy cringed. “Of course, lie’s taking you home? That was the last dance.” “Oh, mother, keep still! Why can’t you leave me alone for a change?” Her mother stiffened perceptibly. “Very well! Let’s go home.” Silence. Dense silence all the way home. A curt good night at her bed- room door, and at last—alone! She tossed and turned. Finally she dozed only to be wakened by nightmares of eyes staring at her out of the darkness. Mocking, charming eyes. She awoke again. Why must she be thrown at men who didn’t want her? Men she didn’t want. The night dragged on. Then, at last dawn! She heard the clock strike seven and her mother stir heavily. “I can’t, can’t see her this morn- ing.” she choked, and hurriedly dressed and went out unseen. Her car was still in the driveway. She climbed in and drove at a breakneck speed down the road.

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16 THE GOLDEN-ROD away from her before she could fin- ish. Petruchio had invited scores of dressmakers and milliners to the house from whose stocks his wife was to choose clothes. Katherina was pleased by the stunning array of dresses and stood before the mir- ror trying them on. Petruchio eyed a trim, black hat with dissatisfaction. “Take it off, Kate; it looks lousey!” Katherina said, “I think I’ll buy it, I like it.” “It’s worse than a washerwoman’s derby. Take it off.” “I certainly will not!” Petruchio approached her and snatched it from her head, mussing her black curls and starting the tears again. Then he dismissed all the tradesmen without a single pur- chase. “Brute, I hate you!” “Keep still, you give me the head- ache.” “You can’t talk to me like that!” “Oh, no?” “You’re a wretch!” “Your language is sadly unrefined. Kate.” “I never want to see you again! You worm, I hate you!” Petruchio gave her a smart cuff on the back of the head and left her raging furiously. They made a journey the next day to Katherina’s home to obtain her wardrobe of clothes. This time they rode in Petruchio’s low-slung roadster of gleaming black and sil- ver and Petruchio wore white flan- nels and a dark blue jacket. Kath- erina was so thankful that she could have wept again. It was a bright afternoon and the wind was warm and sweet. Petruchio said, “How bright the moon is.” “What do you mean, the moon!” scoffed Katherina, “that’s the sun!” “I said it was the moon!” cried Petruchio. “And what I say goes!” Katherina set her lips and was silent. “And furthermore,” continued Pe- truchio, “unless you agree it’s the moon we turn back.” “All right,” sighed Katherina wearily, “it’s the moon.” At Baptista's they found a double wedding in process. Bianca and Lu- centio with two friends were taking the vows. Petruchio’s men friends hinted within their joking conversation that they sympathized with him for having obtained such an ill-tempered girl for a wife. “Gee, Marie is so easy to get along with,” said one. “We never argue.” “Boy, you should taste the lemon pies my dame slings across the sup- per table!” boasted another. “Well, boys,” grinned Petruchio, “1 11 bet five bucks that Katherina is more obedient than any of your worthy spouses.” “I could use five bucks,” said Lu- centio, digging into his pocket. Laughingly the others took up the bet. They sent a servant to Bianca first, telling her that her husband wanted her at once. The servant, looking pleasantly bored, returned saying that the young lady was too busy to come. The other young wives were also “busy.” “Now,” said Petruchio, “watch Katherina sprint.” Katherina appeared almost imme- diately and asked what her husband wished. “What,” asked Petruchio, “are the other girls doing?” “We were only sitting in my room talking,” answered Katherina. Several young men looked sheep- ish and Petruchio was twenty dol- lars richer. The evening wore on filled with merriment, noise and music. Mel- ody was hot and sweet and laughter was light. Petruchio stood on top of the piano and executed a tap dance, and to her own surprise Ka- therina found herself applauding with the others. When the evening ended Kather- ine appeared wearing a hat that Pe- (Continued on Pape ii)

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18 THE GOLDEN-ROD At a stoplight she skidded halfway across the road and stopped. The unsuccessful stop was like fresh fuel to her dying temper, but the car refused to start, and she climbed out and went into a garage around the corner. An exceedingly greasy young man stuck his head out from under a car. “My car’s around the corner. Go get it. I’ll be in tomorrow,” Nancy snapped. Arriving at home, she squared her shoulders and prepared herself for a scene. Boldly opening the door she walked into the living room. “Nancy, you’re here at last! Oh, I have the most wonderful news! Ronald is coming for tea tomorrow! I called him this morning.” “Really? What fun! He’s rather a snob, don’t you think?” “Nancy, can’t you choose a more delicate word? ‘Snob’ sounds so vulgar!” “Sorry, mother, ‘snob’ fits him so much better than any other word. I’ll be down for lunch as soon as I change.” The next day found Nancy again in the garage perched on the box. Jerry Sear, as the garage man’s name proved to be, was sharing his sandwiches with her. “You stripped the gears on that car. Beside it hasn’t been used right. You can’t treat a car like that!” “Oh. can’t I? It’s my car!” she grinned. “Well, it can’t be finished today. It’ll take quite a while to fix that car up right.” “Are you trying to get rid of me, by any chance?” “If I was I’d tell you to go. What do you do in the evenings?” “Nothing.” “Want to go to the movies Friday night?” “I’d love to. Oh, gee! I forgot. Mother’s having company and I must hurry home. I suppose I’ve got to go.” Rushing into the living room, she was surprised to see Ronald talking to her mother. “Oh! Hello there! Aren’t you early?” Horror of horrors! She had for- gotten to be embarrassed. Clenching her teeth she muttered, “Keep it up, Nancy! You’ll learn yet!” She giggled as she slipped her aft- ernoon dress over her head. She had at least surprised him out of his snobbishness for one minute! The next three weeks passed quickly. Movies with Jerry. Long days at the garage with Jerry. Lunches with Jerry. Dances and teas with Ron- nie, invitations received and accept- ed by Mrs.- Leton. Then, matters got worse. Ronnie was always under- foot. One day in the garage Jerry came over suddenly and sat down beside her. “Nancy, I’ve got a confession to make. You see, it’s this way—” Fifteen minutes later, Nancy, seated on her box, eyes sparkling, raptly listening, was startled by a fa- miliar figure in the doorway. Slowly raising her eyes she met the shocked, incredible gaze of Ronnie! Regaining his usual unshakable poise he spoke coldly to Jerry. “Will you please overhaul my car? I'll be in for it later.” Nancy rose. “Ronnie, will you tell mother something for me?” “Most assuredly,” Ronnie said haughtily. “I’ve got some news that will tickle her to death. Jerry and I are going to be married. Tell her not to worry, that Jerry’s father is Charles Sear, the automobile manufacturer. Jerry’s just been trying to learn something about automobiles, so he’d be able to take over his father’s business.” EDITOR’S NOTE: “Word Signs and Love Songs” published in the last issue of the “Golden Rod” was written by Mary Connors. Through an oversight on the part of the staff, the name of the author was omitted.