Balmoral Hall School - Optima Anni Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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ll been a day just like any other. Dave was leaving the station for home when he received a call from a woman who had found the bodies of two girls. These two girls were Joan Gray and Sandra Watson. They had been coming home from school in Sandra's car, and now they were dead. A few hours later, Dave was told that the Devon National Bank had been robbed just a little while after the murder. These two incidents fitted together. Late that night the car was found abandoned. The next day the car was tested for finger- prints and the ones they found belonged to Johnny Horton, a recent arrival in town. No one knew much about him and no one wanted to, except Dave. A few days later, he was found hiding in an old cabin by the lake. He was put on trial and sentenced to life imprisonment. Dave kept asking himself how Johnny could have escaped. How'? Dave just sat in his chair too stunned to speak. Mary brought him a drink to calm his nerves, and she finished pre- paring dinner. During dinner, neither Dave nor Mary spoke, but they were both talking silently to themselves about the same thing. Had Johnny broken out to get revenge on Dave? Would he strike at home or on Dave's way to work? Dave wondered, if Johnny tried to get him at home, whether he would kill Mary also. He hoped not, but he was not sure. He was not sure of anything that night. After dinner they sat in the living room read' ing the paper. After fifteen minutes Dave stood up, looking very restless. He decided to be cautious. He went upstairs and locked the windows, and downstairs he locked both windows and doors. By this time Mary was pacing the floor, too. Dave turned on the television and Mary picked up her knitting. About ten o'clock they decided to go to bed. Mary went upstairs while Dave turned out the lights. He knew it was foolish, but he was scared. As he was walking up the stairs, he heard a crash. Thoughts quickly flashed through his head. What should he do? Was it Johnny? Dave took his gun out of its case and carefully and quietly went downstairs. When he reached the living room, he switched on the lights. Sitting on the floor was their little French poodle who had just knocked over a vase. Dave continued to go to bed, still feeling nervous after the last episode. He and Mary got into bed, but they could not sleep. About midnight there came a loud knocking at the door. They both jumped. Dave put on his dressing-gown and got his gun. He crept down the dark stairs very slowly. He hesitated, then swiftly opened the door. Surprise, Dad! said Donald with a smile. SIGNY HANSEN-Grade XI Seasons Springing crocus Mournful dove Gleeful child in a muddy pool Dusty sunset Waking bough- SPRING is a growing time. Sparkling white-caps Pungent pine Orange sun in a dazzling sky Sunburnt faces Laughing loons- SUMMER's a lazy time. Raucous blue jay Goldenrod Rich reward of the farmer's toil Plopping raindrop Dying leaves- AUTUMN's a busy time. Coal- eyed snowman Holly wreath Rabbit prints in a snowy field Freezing fingers Friendly fire- WINTER,S a resting time. Nona BAKER-Grade X Courage The Laurentians in Quebec are renowned as a skiers' paradise, and the white slopes were definitely being enjoyed on this January evening. The tiny fiakes of powdered snow seemed to dance as they sparkled in the dim light of dusk. Fifteen-year-old Carol Austin hurtled down the snake-like path on the black and niveous mountain side. Her graceful form indicated that she skied often and loved it. She joined her smiling friend, Sheila Curtis, at the termination of the run. Then both set off down a second slope, whipping up clouds with each twist. Finally, they veered toward the soft light of two buildings nestled in a valley. This was Eagle Mount School for Girls. They were greeted at the door by their plump, kind-hearted house-mother, Mrs. Lewis, who in- formed them that a girl had just arrived from Switzerland and was to share their room. Her name is Greta Helvitia, and she is extremely shyg so be kind to her, cautioned Mrs. Lewis. Her father owns . . . , she began

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10 pounding on its shore. Around the bend the sail boat was waiting, and soon she and Graham would be climbing into it and moving out onto the waves. They were going to the big city along the coast where they would be married. It had seemed a wonderfully exciting plan that after- noon, but now Catriona wondered as she sat alone. Nervouslv she thumbed through a book, and soon she heard her father and mother turn out their lights. Hearing a low whistle Outside, she jumped to the window. Now she was on the porch roof, looking dubiously down at Graham's upturned face. A few moments of panic as her feet wavered in the air, and then she was on the ground beside him. The darkness surrounded them as they made their way down the lonely cliff path. Catriona's heart began to thump wildly as she watched Graham prepare the boat. Come on, Cat, Graham called. Coming, she answered and the huskiness of her voice echoed against the cliffs. Looking out to sea, she saw no encouragement. Ahead was a blank wall of fog which had been quietly creeping toward the shore, and soon the thick wet blanket would surround them. Graham pushed the boat onto the waves and slipped in. The wind tugged at the sails and the further out they got, the fiercer the wind became. The only sounds heard were the eerie lapping of the waves against the boat, and the wild flapping of the sails as the wind tore at them from all directions. Enclosed by the veil of fog, they were alone in this wet world. Catriona sat wrapped in a heavy blanket and the wind whipped her long dark curls against her face. She looked at Graham. His face was pale but determined, as his eyes strained to see through the fog. HO-O-O-NK, loud and clear a fog horn resounded through the silence. Catriona could bear it no longer. Let's go back, Graham, please, she cried, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silence. Graham started and he looked into Catriona's wild pleading eyes. But . . . Please, Graham, Catriona interrupted. Graham realized now why Catriona had been so quiet. At eighteen she was too young to leave her home. They would have to wait. Catriona sat in a trance on the edge of the seat, and Graham silently steered the boat towards shore. The waves rose higher and higher until they seemed to lose their power and tossed themselves on the beach, as a tired wanderer might fling himself on the ground. Graham helped Catriona out of the boat, pulled the boat onto the shore, and they made their way back up the path which they had come down only a few hours before. Catriona turned to Graham and, Graham, I'm sorry, she said, but her voice broke. It's all right, Catriona, he said. It'll seem like a bad dream in the morning. Then things will go on as before. Don't worry. Catriona nodded and gave a wan smile, the first attempt at cheerfulness that evening. Graham helped her back onto the porch roof and she stepped into her room unnoticed. The next morning Catrionafs mother noticed how pale her daughter was, and told her she should stay in bed. You must have had a nightmare last night, she said. Catriona smiled to herself and looked out towards the sea. The opaque film which had frightened her last night had been blown away and the sea shimmered gloriously in the bright sunlight. The nightmare was finished. DORA DEMPSTER-Grade X rl g A Rpm, .gi 4' ,miillliisiliifuvf ' Q ' i e i an-ncmi. WATCHING THE NEW BUILDING BETTY NIC!-IOL and JUDITH KNIGHT A Knock at Midnight March eighteenth, the day started in the same way for I.ieutenant Dave Macdonald as it had for the last twenty-five years. Dave got up at seven, dressed, went downstairs, and had break- fast. He left for the station at a quarter to eight. It took him fifteen minutes to walk to the station and he was there at eight o'clock. Dave, the head of the Devon Police Force for the last tw enty-five years, was in his early fifties, but was as healthy as his nineteen-year-old son, Donald, who was away at University. Dave worked as usual until five. He cleared his desk, put on his coat and hat, and left the station. When he arrived home, Mary, his wife, was waiting at the door for him. Her face was as white as a sheet for she had just heard on the radio that Johnny Horton had escaped from jail. Johnny was a young killer whom Dave had caught and put in prison three years earlier. Before he went to jail, Johnny had sworn that he would kill Dave. Dave came in and sat down. He was too bewildered to say anything. He remembered all too clearly what had happened that day. It had

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12 again, but was interrupted by the flustered little school nurse who bustled into the room muttering, Oh dear! What a time for Sandra to sprain her ankle! She will never be able to ski at Lake Placid next weekend! Oh dear! Carol and Sheila groaned and slowly returned to their room. There, they were joined by Dale Phillips, the fourth member of their ski team, and they began to discuss Sandra's accident. No one gave a thought to delicate, blue-eyed Greta Helvitia who listened attentively and soon dis- covered that a ski team must be composed of four girls in order to be eligible for the Slalom Race at Lake Placid. Greta was almost completely ignored by Dale, Carol, and Sheila during the next three days as they tried to find a fourth skier. The slalom run behind the school was excellent but it appeared cruelly steep and treacherously bumpy, and not many girls would even attempt it. Although she was a brilliant student and laboured continuously to please everyone, there was something lacking in Greta's life at Eagle Mount. She did not converse with the other girls because her slight Swiss accent seemed to embarrass her. She did not partake in any school activities, but one evening when the girls had almost given up hope of skiing at Lake Placid, Greta approached Carol. I would like to help you, she stuttered. I could be the fourth member of your team, if you would let me. My father is sending my skis, and they should arrive tomorrow. The quiet simplicity of the girl made an impression on the bold Carol Austin, but she could not understand why such a shy, self- conscious creature could ever hint that she was worthy of being on the ski-team. We shall be practising on the slope tomorrow. Bring your skis over and we'll time you, she replied harshly. Greta could not help hearing Dale and Sheila tittering behind her back, or seeing Carol's wink which seemed to say, It will be comical to watch her anyway. Greta's skis arrived just before the appointed time. The ski team was standing at the base of the slope and the red fiags of the slalom course fiapped in the breeze. Mrs. Lewis, standing with the girls, was the first to sight Greta at the summit of the hill. Carol signalled her to begin and started the timer. Zigzagging between the poles, the Swiss girl made the slalom look easy. The snow flew up about her on all sides making her look like a spectre flying through the air. Each manoeuvre came naturally to her, and she soon passed the girls, her skis whirring merrily across the glistening powder. The ski team looked wide-eyed at the clock which proved that her time surpassed Sandrafs best by fourteen seconds. Sheila, Dale, and Carol ran to congratulate her. Mrs. Lewis smiled and felt glad that she had not told them that Greta's father owned a ski resort in Zermatt, Switzerland, and that Greta had had expert teaching in skiing all her life. It was better for Greta to overcome her shyness, and better for the other girls to learn that, just be- cause a person does not boast does not mean she is not talented. SUSAN RILEY-Grade IX Prize- winning Story- Intermediate Literary Competition Pastimes Climbing rocky cliff-sides, Running home to tea, Walking over warm sands, Swimming in the sea, Swinging in the back yard, Sitting in a tree, Lying in the long grass- These appeal to me. DORA Dmrrsrmn-Grade X The Fugitive We interrupt this programme to give a special announcement. Joe Martin, an armed robber, escaped from Lyndale Penitentiary at five o'clock this morning. The man is twenty-one years of age 5 weight one hundred and Hfty pounds g height five feet, nine inches, brown hair, gray eyes, and a scar on his right cheek. He was seen in a stolen car, racing toward the Muskoka resort country. Anyone having information . . . Joe snapped the car radio off angrily. This was getting on his nerves. Every car that followed behind him seemed suspicious. Finally all the cars but one turned off on different roads. This car was an old station wagon. No cop would drive an old crate like that, Joe told himself. After a while Joe reached the outskirt of the village of Bala. Here he passed a few cottages and motels scattered amongst the trees along the strolled along warm summer shores of Long Lake. Tourists toward the village, enjoying the day. As he approached the centre of the village, he noticed the Provincial Police car. Were they watching for him? There was no time to find out. He turned sharply along a side road, and raced across the railroad tracks just in time to miss a long, slow, freight train. Well, that takes care of the police for a. while, Joe muttered. Only then did he notice the beauty around him. All colours of wild flowers carpeted the side of the road. Huge trees formed an arch overhead. Through the trees he saw the blue water of Moon River sparkling in the sunlight,