Ashbury College - Ashburian Yearbook (Ottawa, Ontario Canada)

Page 14 text:

Dammit Jules, look at this report card. How many times have your mother and I had to talk to you about your marks. You just don ' t seem to care about anything, do you Jules? Your room is covered with these crazy posters and, as usual, it ' s messy. All you do is listen to that stupid loud music! Jules was still staring up at the ceiling when his father finally ordered him to look at him. Jules ' head slowly turned towards his father and he said Yeah, what d ' ya want? Mr. Harris cursed at his son and told him that he was impossible to handle and that he was selfish and so on. Jules looked at his father, not listening. Finally his father ' s long oration ended and he left the room. Then Jules resumed staring at the ceiling, silently. Jim Harris shut off his alarm clock and rubbed his eyes. The clock- face showed 7:30 — time to get up and go to work. Beside him lay the slow breathing body of his wife Mary, deep in sleep. He cast a loving glance toward her and heaved himself out of bed. In his mind he surveyed the day he had planned. First he must dress, then eat breakfast. Then he would drop Jules off at his High School, and then on to the office. Jim Harris intensely disliked taking his son to school. Jules always asked him why he couldn ' t have a car. Jim always said it was because Jules was not responsible enough to own a car. This was partly true, yet the real reason was that he couldn ' t afford it. He thought Jules sensed that too. Mr. Harris came back to the present and dressed quickly. As usual, Jules had neglected to respond to the urgent call of his alarm clock and lay asleep when his father came into the room. Jim awoke Jules and told him that he had a mere fifteen minutes to be dressed and breakfasted. Mr. Harris left the room and descended to the kitchen where he began preparing his usual breakfast — a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. Jules dressed in his favorite clothes. He put on his tattered, bell- bottomed blue jeans, a white T-shirt with the words ' Cape Cod ' printed on it and his scruffy half-wellingtons. Jules grabbed his official school jacket and went down the stairs to the kitchen. Jules had much better clothes but he liked these best. When Jules entered the kitchen his father was just finishing his coffee. Come on Jules, we ' ve only a few minutes left — hurry! were his father ' s words. Jules grabbed a glass of frozen orange juice and swallowed it with one gulp. He had his books under his arm although he had not done his homework. Jules followed behind his father to the car. 10

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JULES The sun was shining brightly — it was a beautiful summer day. Jules was running happily across the clean-cut grass of his summer cottage. He was playing with his shiny new ball; he had just received it for his seventh birthday. For some reason Jules placed a strange significance on this one ball; he had played with it all afternoon. From the large kitchen window of their quaint cottage Mrs. Harris could see her son playing. While she washed the dishes, she dreamed of her youth, a habit women have. Her thoughts wandered till she came to the birth of Jules. She thought of how much she loved him and how she spent all her time with him. Mrs. Harris was startled back to the present as she heard her husband ' s car noisily coming up the gravel roadway. Jules stopped running with his ball and looked towards the car. His father had parked the car and was getting out. Mr. Harris slammed the car door behind him and strutted vigorously up to the screen door of the cottage, entering quickly. Jules heard the crash of a dish and the raised voices of his parents. They were arguing again. Jules shrugged his shoulders and began playing with his ball. He ran by his sandbox filled with small shovels and pails, turned quickly and with one motion threw his ball at the sandbox. It hit a shovel and bounced off into the grass beside the box. Jules smiled and sat down. He lay in the grass looking up at the sun . . . his friend. I don ' t care if it is Jules ' birthday! I ' m not going to take that damned kid out to some fancy restaurant where he can eat all my money away! These were the cutting words of Jim Harris in reply to Mary, his wife. She had just suggested that they take Jules to the ' Diamond Restaurant ' in the small town of Kirby. Her husband, however, flatly refused. Mary began crying and Jim left the kitchen fuming and cursing. It ' s all Jules ' fault, he mumbled, that kid is ruining my marriage and that I won ' t let happen . Jules ate his dinner under the setting sun. It was a peanut butter sandwich. He had had a nice birthday, he thought, ' Not great, but nice . He could hear the crickets calling and he saw the first stars coming out. He turned around and walked along the gravel path toward the beckoning lights of the cottage. That evening, Jules thought hard about his parents — he was worried. Jules, now seventeen, lay on his bed staring blankly at the white stucco of his ceiling. The door to Jules ' room suddenly burst open. Standing in the doorway was his father, red-faced.

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Mr. Harris dropped his son off at the school. They had said nothing to each other all the way. Jim thought that quite unusual, like many things about Jules lately. No, I ' m sorry, Mr. Harris. We haven ' t seen Jules all day was the reply of the principal. The form teacher said he had been looking pale lately and looked sick . Well, thanks anyway, Mike. Now if you hear anything call me right away! Sure, Jim, I will; I hope you find your boy. Mr. Harris hung up the phone — he had an anxious look on his face. Mary, his wife, stood behind him and sensed that the call proved negative. Where could Jules be? It ' s already 7:30 and he ' s still not home, she said. Oh, he ' ll be alright, he ' s probably just with a friend lied Mr. Harris. Jim was very worried about Jules. He had instructed Jules always to phone home to tell his parents where he was. Jules seemed always to do that, yet tonight he had forgotten or was unable to. It was now 12 midnight and Jim Harris could hear the wail of a police siren approaching. He knew where its destination was — it was his house. Mr. Harris had called the police 15 minutes ago and informed them about the disappearance of Jules. Jim opened the front door as the patrol car pulled up. Two plain- clothesmen quickly got out and ascended the few steps to the front door. Mr. Harris let them in. My name is Constable Peters and my partner is Constable Kingsley. We ' d like to ask you a few questions in connection with your son ' s disappearance . Mr. Harris listened to the patented lines and with a shaky hand directed the two to sit down in the living room. Mr. Harris had his top shirt button open and his tie dangling sloppily. The three of them had talked for ten minutes when Mrs. Harris entered the room. She had just awakened from a nap. She walked sleepy-eyed over to her husband and whispered in his ear Have they found Jules? Jim replied, No, they haven ' t but we ' re arranging a search for him. Don ' t worry darling, we ' ll find him.