Buffalo Seminary - Seminaria Yearbook (Buffalo, NY)

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LAY!-J-i hm SEMINARI-A 1942 Met in Bombay said, Oh, for gosh sakes, Janie, get up, and he gave her a little inquiring prod with his foot. Tim at that time hadn't quite reached the chivalrous age. And then he realized what had happened, and cried, Oh, hey, she's dead or something! What confusion had followed! The second event was the day Janie had begun to see that her engagement to Malcolm wasn't really what she wanted. She was standing on her porch, looking like a very small, bewildered, woebegone child, when she had heard a sputtering, tinny clatter behind her and had turned to see Tim's familiar Model T. He had come home from college unexpectedly. She had told him her problem. You see, I didn't want to do anything as drastic and complete as marrying. I just liked the feel of it. Engagement, I mean. For gosh sakes, he had said, I don't see what your family was thinking of when they let you get engaged. You can't cook or-well, anything. Malcolm knows it too, if he would only admit to himself-- Go0d! Then you tell him. That's settled, and I won't have anything to worry about any more. Something bright and blue and sparkling had kindled in her eyes and then disappeared. Except-except-Well, maybe I'd like to marry you- sort of- Oh, I've had that planned for a long time. But it won't happen till we're older. You've got lots more to learn about life and love and people. And me, well, I've got to finish college, and then there's the army and-by the way, there's going to be a house party at college next month. Do you want to go? And meet all those supermen you've been writing me about? I'd simply love to. I'll marry you later. Now,I guess I'll just have fun. Janie had laughed then as she laughed now at that foolish person she used to be and probably still was. No one really understood hertthat is, except Tim. He knew her adorable, scatterbrained chatter, careless manner, and childishness were only three-fourths of her whole self. Once in a while she showed a few grains of sense, and it was because of these that he had advised her to go to Art College. She really did have talent and he knew it, so while he went to Cornell, she studied fashion design. She was glad she had been busy, because otherwise she would have missed him more, missed his sense of humor, missed his wonderful personality, missed the long, semi-serious conversations, missed all the marvelous times they had had together. But she had never thought of him as anything except her best friend or a brother until, until-well maybe it was when he was drafted, but she wasn't sure. Maybe it wasn't until today, when his telegram came: Leaving for the

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5.EMlNA.R1A 19.42 has . - a has al neck, and an icy wetness had seeped down her back. She had turned indignantly to End Tim grinning at the other boys. Nope, he laughed, Nobody hits her but me! Tim was always around the house. His father and mother had been killed when he was a small baby, and he lived with his aunt and uncle. They were elderly, had no children, and seemed to make it rather evident to Tim that they had never wanted any. So he had shared her parents. Her mother and father had hoped for a son. And look what they drew, she smiled to herself, and bumped into a moving pyramid of packages, which she later found was being propelled through the crowd by a very irritable woman shopper. Yes, she thought, as she again resumed her walk to the station, her parents had wanted a son, and Tim seemed to suit them perfectly. Tim saw just enough of her home life to know what he was missing. Sometimes he would get awfully despondent and moody, and it would take all of Janie's humor and foolish antics to restore him to his happy self. And then they had grown up. They had left behind them the tempests and tears, the ecstasies and complete joys of their childhood. They left behind them the worrisome, gangly period of stringy pigtails and dirty faces and legs. They emerged into their teens, a whole life of complexities ahead, and they had had lots of fun. CAt this point in her reminiscence Janie dextrously avoided a blind man selling pencils.J They had had a busy time, going to school, learning their lessons, and perfecting their lines. Janie and Tim had fallen in and out of love many times, and each always depended upon the other's advice in serious matters of dates and things. Two memorable events stood out in her mind. The first was the time Tim took her to the movies last summer at Thousand Island Park. She had just reached the reducing stage, deciding that a liquid diet was just the smartest thing to try, and that day she had gone without food. The openfair theater, with its wooden benches and sawdust floor, was a primitive structure. During the picture, boys would go through the audience selling 'peanuts and popcorn. Janie had never been disturbed by this before, but then every call of food, every whiff of the heavenly stuff, every satisfied smack reached her with piercing plainness, sending a sharp pain through her stomach. Finally she could stand it no longer, for she felt rather faint. I'm going home, she had whispered to Tim in a strange, empty voice, but he had paid no attention, thinking she was in one of her nasty moods. After a few minutes, Goodbye, bring ,my shoes when you come, she had said in a trance, and got up, dragging Tim with her. When she came to the end of the aisle, some' one's feet got in her way and she fell headlong into the sawdust. It was the first time she had ever fainted. Tim, in a stage whisper heard above the guns of They

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SEMINARIA 1942 has 7. a. -.-mt Pacific and action at last. Stopping over an hour at Syracuse at 5:15. Meet me. I've got to find out something. Don't be late, as usual. Love. Tim. Paper-paper, miss! A grimy little boy stuck The 'Times into her face. The Japs have landed at Singapore Island! Paper! Paper! And Janie moved on. It was 5:12. She had to hurry, she had to hurry. Breathlessly she reached the sta' tion and raced down to the track just as a whole trainload of laughing, noisy young men in khaki uniforms was pulling to a stop. How will I ever find him? she thought, and shivered inside. Then she saw him through the window of the car and Tim spied her at the same time. She waved violently, knocking several hats askew. Finally he reached her after minutes of struggling through the unruly crowd. He put his arm around her, there was no room for anything else just then, and led her into the station. Once inside, there was plenty of space. Tim hadn't changed a bit, Janie thought, as she looked across at him in the booth of a funny little restaurant they had found near the station. There was no time to waste going to any of the usual places. No, he was still the same, still had the same glossy dark hair that just would wave ever so slightly despite him, still had the same roguish grin, and the same black, laughing eyes, which always gazed quizzically at the world. They sat and talked of silly, senseless things, the per' sonal things they had shared, of the time Tim had decided that her dog would look more like a thoroughbred with two tiny white spots at his neck and had mixed some peroxide, vinegar, and lemon juice together into a mysterious conf coction he had called a bleaching solution. It's perfectly painless, he had assured her, Oops, oh, well, a couple more spots! But, Janie, it'll grow out in two months. Hey, you're not mad, are you? After about a year, Janie had changed her dog's name to Spotty. They talked of the school's jitterbug contest they had entered and lost, of the tree house they had built, of the closing dance at the club house last summer when they had had an unusual cold spell. They had closed the doors, lighted a wood fire in the huge stone fireplace, turned off the lights, toasted marshmallows, and later had danced in the flickering, crackling light. They talked a bit about themselves, too, there was so terribly much to say, and yet so little. And then it was time to go. Janie wished fiercely that she could clutch the relentless hands of the horrid little clock on the greasy wall and pull them back an hour, a day, a year. They walked into the night. A heavy mist had taken the place of the rain. For a moment it was as if they were two little children again, lost, groping their way