Branksome Hall - Slogan Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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The Branksome Slogan 25 his coat. I know, now, that it was this sound which unnerved me. For the first time I felt fear. Who was this man? What was in the mysterious bundle he carried? But I knew nothing could happen in the crowded restaurant. The voice of the radio pierced the haze of my thoughts, . . . still at large. Please watch for this man; he will stop at nothing! Music again. I could feel the man looking at me. ' ' Afraid? he asked quietly. ' ' No, I answered. No, I tried to convince myself, I am not afraid; just uncertain, just uncertain . . . It said he was dangerous . The man across from me was breathing audibly. At last the waiter came. He handed me a menu and left. I Riding Enthusiasts stared at the cardboard, trying to concentrate. This was not normal. Nothing could happen, nothing. The print of the menu danced before my eyes. The radio — someone was turning the dial — the deep voice was heard again. Only snatches of it came through to me. I repeat, the man is tall, dark . . . about forty . . . dangerous killer ... I glanced at the stranger. He was staring at me. I started to hand him the menu. I had to stop his staring ... I had to! The voice of the announcer came back. . . . easily identified, having a large birthmark on the back of his right hand. The rnan across from me was staring at my hand on the menu now — at the huge birthmark on the back of my right hand . . . MARION WALLACE, Form II.

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24 The Branksome Slogan The Dinner I- still have no idea why I was there. It was ridiculous, con- sidering the time and circumstances. It was a stormy night, cold and wet. The thunder was deep and loud; the sky was full of lightning. I found a space and parked the car. Everything had gone well for me that day and I was feeling gay and spirited as I left the car. I entered the small, stuffy little restaurant at the end of the street. Through the veil of smoke I saw an empty table at the far end of the room and started towards it. After a few moments several mjore people entered. A solitary man, looking for a table, came over to where I sat and asked if he might sit with me. Glad to have the company, of course I agreed. As he sat down, I tried to draw him into conversation. ' Toul weather, isn ' t it? I remarked, for lack of anything better to say. There was really no need for me to worry about the originality of my remark, however, for the stranger muttered something under his breath which I could not even hear. I watched the man, as he placed the wet, rolled-up coat he had been carrying beside him, and for the first time I got a good look at him. He was about forty — an old forty, and was tall, though heavily built. He seemed afraid of something. He avoided my glance and looked quickly at the door each time it opened. Suddenly the radio on the counter, which had been playing loud music, was silent; then a deep resonant voice broke in. ' ' Attention! Your attention, please! You are being asked to co- operate with the Provincial Police in a search for a convict, who has escaped from prison just outside the Eastern city limits. This man is tall, weighs about one hundred and sixty pounds, and is forty years old. He is dangerous and may be armed. Please report any infoima- tion concerning this man to the station to which you are listening. The music resumed and the buzz of conversation was again heard. The man across from me was white, and his manner more guarded than ever. I took hold of miiyself ; this was protoably happening to everyone else in the room — this suspense, this suspicion, each man of his neighbour. Where was that waiter? I tried to think of something to say — something that would not sound forced or suspicious. ' ' Sounds as if one of the boys hopped the fence , I said. Pluh ? Oh, yeah, yeah ! He looked up, startled, as he said it. We were looking at each other now, as a cat watches a mouse. His nervous fingers wandered over his parcel, his nails scratching on

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26 The Branksome Slogan Number Seventeen ' ' Number Seventeen; Seventeen next! As the voice rang through the crowded cabin of the lines, a slight, blond man stepped eagerly up to the official ' s desk. He was one of the many Norwegian refugees who were coming over to Canada to start life anew. They were given numbers to make it easier for the officials to check their papers. When he reached the desk the usual questions were asked: ' ' Name. Carl Norburg. Birth place. Bergen, Norway. Destination. Alberta, Canada. May I see your papers, please? While the official looked through his papers. Number Seventeen, alias Car] Norburg, turned and looked out a porthole. The ship had just docked at Queibec. He looked with interest upon the quays bustling with activity and at the old buildings which rose above them. He thought how different it looked from the streets of Bergen, many of which were made impassable by piles of rubble still to be cleared away. He thought of the pictures he had seen of the acres and acres of grain which grew so abundantly on the prairies. Then he pictured the fields surrounding Bergen, bare and desolate, dotted here and there with the rusty remains of war machines — machines which had been used in the war in which he had fought, the war in which he had lost everything that was dear to him, his family and his home. The picture of that terrible day when the Germans came was still very clear in his mind. It had been a bright sunny day. Carl had gotten up as usual to do the chores around the farm. He had been pitching hay down to the cattle in the bam when suddenly his neigh- bour burst in. Carl, quickly! quickly! We must flee! he cried. The Germans are coming and taking all able-bodied men tO ' work in their factories. Get your wife and son, and hurry ! We are going to the mountains ! Carl did not need a second warning. He ran intoi the house and told his wife, Nora, and son, Olaf, what had happened. In ten minutes they had made a bundle of essentials and the three started off quickly across the fields towards the mountains. They were soon joined by other people from the farms near-by.