Buffalo Seminary - Seminaria Yearbook (Buffalo, NY)

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26 I-g SEMINARIA 1942 in the dense gray nothingness, looking for home. A loud Board sounded, and Janie tried hard to conceal the tears that just would come into her eyes. You will wait for me? he made her promise for the thirteenth time. The train was again filling with boisterous life. Just always. She was really crying now, an awful pain came over her. It wasn't like the one she had had after she had been riding on the handle bars of Tim's bike and they had hit a bump. It wasn't quite like the one she had had when her dog had died. It wasn't like anything she had ever experienced before. If it wasn't for you, I don't think I'd care if- Don't! she said. Great stinging tears streamed down her cheeks. But I do. He kissed her. For a while nothing else mattered, the pain had gone, she ceased thinking or feeling. Time was nothing. Board ! At that moment Janie changed. She knew in some intangible,intuitive way. She was no longer a little girl, a silly flighty child to be protected from sorrow and pain. E Whenever you come back, I'll be right here. Ten minutes early, too. And I'll write just every night. . The train, slowly leaving, looked like a huge black bug with waving arms sticking out crazily at all angles. Everything swam before her as she turned dully to go. She looked about at the other people on the platform, at the other grief- stricken faces, and she dried her eyes. There was the pain again. She wondered, not caring, if it would ever stop. He must come back, he must come back, he must come back. Her heart thumped violently as she walked slowly home. Home, she thought, with a question mark. He must come back, he must comeen Janie glanced up at the inky sky. The mist cleared for a second, and two tiny stars' were mirrored in her eyes. Star light, star bright- She stepped off .the curb into the swirling muddy water in the gutter. First star I see tonight- A shrill whistle rent the air. Wish I may, wish I might, have the w- There was a screeching and grinding of brakes. I PATRICIA HALLORAN '42

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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

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