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Page 109 text:
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47 . LITERARY I DID IT It was a cool spring morning. I was walking along the narrow rutted path by the top of the cliff and gazing below at the town in the valley. It had been severely bombed during World War two, as it was the location of one of Germany’s largest- munitions factories, and I marvelled at the completeness of its rebuilding and at its sleek modern architecture. • I sat down under a large tree and looked about me. I don ' t quite know how long I had been there before I got up to leave and walk the narrow winding path down the cliff to home. The sunlight glinting . off an object caught my eye. I turned, and there it was - a spherical object about fifteen feet in diameter sitting in the middle cf a grove of trees. It was made of metal, and had hinged to it what I took to be a door. Suddenly the door opened and a man emerged. He was tall and handsome, about fifty years of age with hair greying at the temples and the distinguished air of a statesman. I spoke to him and he answered me in a deep voice that spoke English of a unique quality which was indefinable. Being exceedingly-curious about his metal sphere, I asked him what its purpose was and what it would do. He replied in his unique English that it was a time machine, the most terrible weapon on earth, and that he was a being from the future travelling from that dimension into the past. I began now to be worried and in my head I tried to plan a route of ■ retreat for I thought him an escaped mental patient and had heard that these types were sometimes dangerous. Realizing that I couldn ' t escape him, I tried humouring him along and said jokingly that he must have a fine machine and wouldn ' t he please take me back with him to the past as I’d always wanted to meet my great grandfather twenty three generations removed. He seemed to see through my feeble attempts and became angry. He shouted he would take me with him but that if I went I must obey him to the letter. He motioned toward the machine. Thinking to humour him still further, I climbed in beside him and he closed the door. There were only two levers in sight. Although there must have been more machinery, it was covered with panels. He explained to me ' care- .fully the workings of the machine and told me to sit in the chair. As he slowly pulled back the lever I felt dizzy, and the stuffy closeness of the air was unbearable. I wished he would let me out and go back to his metal home. Suddenly he flung the door open and we were still in the grove of trees with the morning breeze rustling the leaves. I felt immense relief as the fresh air flooded in. I stepped out into the sunshine again. I could hear the birds singing, and I prepared to walk down the path, but he told me to stop. There was such a coldness in his voice that I halted immediately and looked around. He was walking over to me. He stopped walking and reminded me that I had promised to obey him if he would permit me to accompany him. As any idiot could see, we had not journeyed anywhere but were still in the same grove of. trees, I had not accompanied him anywhere, but I was afraid of his becoming violent if I did not play along wiun his game. I said very well, I would obey. He resumed his normal tone and gave me a few minor instructions, but once again the voice that had the cold ring of steel interceded and told me that under no circumstances must I harm in any way the inhabitants of the town in the valley, or the effects would be- disastrous. I promised him this, and proceeded down the slippery winding path with him close behind. I intended to take him to see a doctor friend of mine in the village the minute we were there. This man, I thought, was in the very advanced stages of schizophrenia. Continued on next page
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Page 110 text:
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48. LITERARY . t. ’ .. I DID IT - (Continued) As we approached the village I itaew that something was desperately wrong. The village was small and had no longer strong modern houses but just the run-down huts of the peasants of a medieval village. I looked, but could not believe my eyes. I knew I wasn ' t dreaming. The metal ball on the cliff had truly taken be back in time. I felt a wild desire to escape. I ran up the path to the edge of the cliff, with my friend of the time machine in hot pursuit, and following him were several villagers, I fell exhausted by a tree at the edge. My friend and one of the villagers helped pick me up. I stood, took a step and stumbled on a tree root, throwing myself against the villager. He fell with a piercing shriek off the cliff. The cold voice said to me, I told you not to harm the villagers. The man was falling, falling, until he was smashed on the rocks below, his body a bloody mass. Suddenly it was quiet, I was alme; there were no people. There was nothing at all. It was then I realized the significance of the words, do not harm the villagers, because by killing this one man I had changed the course of time. History would all be changed, and to change history in any way would be fatal. I had interrupted the pattern of TIME. No shrieking bombs had smashed the earth to ruins, no germ war had occurred. I had destroyed the earth by interrupting the course of time. I had killed and destroyed every living thing on the face of the earth. Sue North 9-3 THE SEASHORE . j . . ;. » . 1 . The ' seashore in the bright sun and early morning is just as beautiful as the rising of the sun in the mountains. It is the meeting of two great natural wonders, the unchanging sea lapping the land. After the incoming tide recedes the seashore is a maze of seashells, seaweed and other remnants of the underwater world. If you ' re ambitious the beach can give up delicious clams. The salty water is fresh and perfect for swimming, although you can get wet just by the rollers which come crashing in. The seashore is something anyone, young or old, can enjoy. Linda McDonald 9-3 September is the time for school, Now we must obey the rule, In the halls we quietly walk, Never, ever, ever talk. Get up early in the day, Don ' t you stop to fool or play Brush your teeth and comb your hair, Aren ' t you hungry as a bear? Wo - , all moriung, afternoon -coo, Keeps my poor head in a stew. Readin ' , ' Ritin ' , ' Rithmetic,- All this learnin makes me sick. Days have come and days have gone, Days- of worry, work not done, May is here, June ' s coming fast, Holidays. ' holidays. ' Here at last, - Twila Bertsch VII-15
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