Churchill High School - Victory Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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THROUGH THESE HALLOWED HALLS And the Iff thumb is lemon flavoured. ' The rendezvous. My car can pass everything on the highway except the gas stations. PAGE 92

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THE BANJO CASE by Donna Crawley Ritchie looked disdainfully at the old man who was settling himself in the adjoining seat. This took consider¬ able time, for the man had hobbled aboard the train, footing two suitcases, an ancient carpet-bag, and a large peculiarily shaped container which the boy assumed housed some sort of banjo. Too add to his difficulties, the old gentleman had only one foot and moved with the aid of crutches. Finally, with his belongings arranged to his satisfaction, the man leaned back in his seat and went instantly to sleep. Ritchie was glad his neighbor had not chosen to talk to him. He was not interested in conversation with a boring old man, nor was he interested in watching the spectacular scenery racing past his win¬ dow. Burying his head in a comic book, the boy was soon lost in the story. Suddenly, Ritchie was startled back to realism by the thump of a crutch on the floor. Looking up, he saw the old man rising with much difficulty to join the other passengers who were headed for the train cafeteria. Sullenly Ritchie watched the poor crippled man get shakily to his one foot. It never occurred to the boy to help him. Instead, he wasirritated by the man ' s slowness which caused them to be the last to leave the coach. All the edible food would probably be gone and worse still, he would likely be forced to sit with the old man as every¬ one else would already be settled. This latter fear proved true. During the meal the two remained silent, eyeing each other with suspicion and dislike. At last the old man broke the quiet and in an i rritated tone demanded, What ails ye sonny? Ye been sittin there lookin sulky¬ like ever since I boarded a few hours back. Why don’t ye try lookin a little happy? The boy replied, Don ' t have anything to be happy about!” The man shrugged, and once again silence reigned. As soon as he had eaten, Ritchie rose impolitely with¬ out a word to his companion and returned to his comic book. When the old man followed sometime later, the boy did not even look up or in any way acknowledge his return. The iartte pattern followed during the entire evening. Each ignored the other. Gradually passengers begain preparing for bed. When the first of these had left, Ritchie noticed his seat mate begin the complex process of rising again. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched him enter the dressing room. Several hours later the old man came back in his night attine. Much later Ritchie decided to go to sleep. His preparation for this consisted of pulling a blanket over his shoulders and closing his eyes. It occurred to him that his companion had certainly taken a long time to do what he did in a matter of seconds. It was odd, ever considering his handi¬ cap, that he should take so long. When Ritchie awoke in the morning he noticed that the old man was gone. He wondered if he had reached his destination during the night, although he really did not care. A few hours later when all the passengers were awake, the old man appeared. Ritchie could not help but be curious about his neighbors repeated long absence The second day passed as uneventfully as had the first The two travellers made no attempt at conversation. Tht man slept most of the time, while the boy read innumer able comic books. As night approached, the old mar again left. This time, Ritchie was on the alert. His curiosity completely overcame his indifference. His eyes were in tent on the door of the dressing room. As he watched many of the people left the room. All had a peculia expression on their faces. Some appeared irritated, others uncomfortable and others just mystified. He had been watching for a long time when he noticed that many of the passiengers, although apparently ready to retire, were rummaging through one suitcase after another. The Ritchie of earlier in the day would have assumed they were all out of their minds but now he was interested and intent on what was going on. At last the old, lame man returned. In one hand he carried the battered banjo case. A peculiar thing to take to the dressing room! The third morning of the trip, Ritchie arose early with one purpose in mind. He walked stealthily to the dressing room and waited. After a long time, passengers began to come in to freshen up for the days journey. Ritchie waited and waited. Still there was no sign of the mysterious cripple. Perhaps he was not as mysterious as Ritchie had thought. Perhaps he had imagined it all. Feeling disappointed and a little foolish, Ritchie opened the door and headed for his seat. He could see the old man moving about in his seat. As he neared he saw that the man was checking through a suitcase. This seemed to be a contagious habit on this train. Suddenly Ritchie stopped, his eyes widened, his mouth fell open. The suitcase the old man was searching through so intently was not his own, but Ritchie ' s! The boy began to shout, Thief! What are you doing in my suitcase? Thief! Help! Thief!” Everyone stared. The old man was so startled he let the case fall to the floor. Summoned by the boy ' s shouting, a porter rushed in and grabbed the terrified man by the wrists. Both the porter and Ritchie fired questions and made accusations so rapidly, that it was hopeless for the captive to attempt a defence. Seeing that they were getting nowhere, Ritchie suggested the porter search the old man ' s banjo case. At this time, the old man looked so horrified that the porter immediately began to do so. All the passengers gathered around awe¬ stricken, as the porter fumbled with the catch. Dramatically, he opened the lid. A silence. A cry of joy. Then laughter. The passengers roared uncontrolably as they surveyed the immense case filled entirely with nothing but tooth¬ brushes! Hundreds of toothbrushes! The Old man had managed to steal the toothbrush of every one of the passengers—everyone but Ritchie, that was. His had never left his suitcase! Betty Muldrew JUST TOO MUCH I was beginning to tire. It was long after dusk and the snow flakes were sparkling from the moon and the corner street light. I had only a few feet left to go. I would finish, I could not turn back. The snow seemed heavier; my breath came in short gasps, the shovel was more awkward. — I quit. PAGE 94