Central Collegiate Institute - Ye Flame Yearbook (Regina, Saskatchewan Canada)

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SENIOR PRIZE SHORT STORY By DOROTHY BROOK, 3A ULTIMA THULE The soft rose rays of the sunset crept cautiously in the window and streamed across the pure white coverlet of the bed, lighting with their last glory the even whiter face. that showed above. An efficient, spotlessly clad nurse hovered above the patient, while at the foot of the bed two doctors conversed earnestly, scraps of their conversation reaching a sad-faced women and her fine-featured son. Little hope . . crisis by midnight, . . relapse . . a little better . . . double pneumonia now, and so the voices droned on ceaselessly. The eyes of the sick man opened, great black eyes, fever- ish and sunken deep in their sockets, but seeming unnaturally large in contrast to the bloodless face and purple lips. They passed restlessly from face to face, stilling the doctors by their intenseness, rooting the nurse to the place where she stood, forcing a little cry from the woman, but seeming to search through and through them and far beyond. Then listlessly the lids dropped shutting the burning orbs from the rapidly falling dusk. Silence. Vtlhite-clad, efiicient, hospital silence. The sick man wonderingly felt a great load lift from him. No longer his brow burned hotly, his hands were strong, his legs like limbs again rather than useless lumps. Then suddenly he found himself looking down at a still white body that was heg but no! he was up here! Then straightway he banished the thought from his mind and gazed upward as he fioated. Far in the distance something beckoned and called him by name, something he coud not defineg a glorious radiance of light that almost dazzled him. Then suddenly he found himsef in a garden. Beautiful, exquisite, what could describe it? It was something of Heaven itself, that had felt no desecrating influence, that only angel footsteps could have wandered over. Little paths led here and there and for a time lie wandered about, revel- ling in the magic of the garden's appeal, marvelling at its delicate charm. Lovely harmonies filled the air and yet he could not define them as music in tae earthly sense-for they were infinitely more melodious than aught he had heard in his own world. Rivulets of crystal clear, sparkling waters trilled about rainbow-colored pebbles. Little bits of sun-rays joined together to make curving moving arches or to twist into fantastical, but, withal, lovely shapes, the purple-grey of the early morn, the dazzling gold of noon rays, and the crimson, mauve, and jade shades of sunset. Above him was a curving sky, blue-abut a deep, sapphire blue, as bright as the brightest gold yet soothing to the eyes. 14

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Reluctantly the man moved on, past arboreal nooks, through woods of marvelous rustling trees, and so on to a broad way that led to a far-off wall that, contrary to all else about him, was a dull, soft grey. Somehow he felt this wall was to decide a great issue, to lead to something wonderful, but he felt a sudden shrinking although he had no desire to turn back. As he drew closer he saw that it was high, whilst steps led up from the end of the road to the very top. Vlihen he reached them he moved slowly up his steps lagging, yet not from weariness for he had felt no fatigue in all his wandering. He looked down and back often, turning his eyes forward almost unwillingly when he came to the top. Then slowly his eyes passed over a vast panoramic scene. He stood trans- fixed. The other garden, what was it? Beside the beautiful scene before him it was as nothing. Angels moved about, some playing, some reclining but all with gentle, kind faces, which were usually lit up with smilesg and far ahead that wondrous radiance beckoned and called to him, seeming to have no shape to his dazzled eyes but known to his mind to be the one great God. Slowly he put a foot upon the first step of the stairway that led down to this vision, but he looked back. Far in the distance behind him a sad-faced woman was sobbing and a fine-featuied boy was holding her protectingly. Wiith wistful heart he drew his foot up, and turning his back to the wondrous country he moved on. Then a voice called from the radiance of light, Thou hast chosen well, for some day thou wilt journey here with her. Go in peace! Then he passed back from this lovely place,to his poor white body. The doctors were plainly puzzled. It was a miracle, they declared, that this dying man had passed the crisis safely, and then hushed their voices as a pair of burning, but tenderly triumphant eyes were fixed on them. The sad- faced woman was weeping for joy, now, and her lad had his arms about his father's neck. The nurse quietly left the room. The sick man smiled and tenderly stroked his son's dark hair. Somehow he was far removed from them, for had he not been to Utima Thule and beyond? Cannibal chief: Did you say you were editor? Edna Yule: No, just assistant editor. Cannibal chief: XX'ell cheer up, in a minute you are going to be editor-in-chief. Mr. Oliver: Yes, at one time I had hair like snow. Dan MacIntosh: VVho shoveled it off? 15