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

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AN IDLE” DAY By MARILYN GODEY When the girls set out that morning the sky had been bright and clear. They had no idea that just beyond the horizon a storm was brewing. Carrying their canoes across the portage the girls had begun their journey. They paddled slowly down the meandering river, listening to the loons laughing insanely from the banks and watching the many waterfowl float silently among the reeds. Lazy thoughts drifted through their minds and several were singing softly to them¬ selves. At noon however they had left the main river and branched off into a small tributary. Now the current was against them and they had to work to gain any headway. There was no time for idle dreaming. Storm clouds were gathering rapidly on the eastern horizon and the sky was grow¬ ing increasingly dark. Seeing that they were approaching a rainstorm the girls led their canoes into the reeds and made themselves fast upon the mud. Just as they were getting the tarps out the storm struck. Clutching the plastic tarpaulin over themselves for dear life the girls were now sitting huddled in the bottom of the canoes listening to the rain thundering down overhead. A good half hour went by before the rain began to slow down and then the storm passed away as quickly as it had come, leaving behind a turbulent lake. As the girls discovered when they ventured forth from under the tarps they were on the outskirts of Lone Island Lake, their desin- ation. Just across the lake was the beach where they were going to land and spend the night. Seeing their objective so close at hand, the girls reefed their crafts together and set out. As the lake was far too rough to go directly across they edged their way around the rim by haul¬ ing themselves hand over hand through the reeds. An hour of strenuous labor was spent at this task before reaching the opposite shore. Now there was just a clear patch of water edgd by rocks to get through. The breakers were pounding against the rocky shore as the tiny canoes set out once more. The white-capped waves drove mercilessly against the puny crafts as they forged their way valiantly forward. Paddles flashed in time as the canoes crept inch by inch onward. The girls muscles were strained to their utmost, pull, pull, fighting an uneven battle against the waves that threatened to toss them upon the cruel rocks. Slowly, ever so slowly they edged their way forward until at length the blessed haven of the reeds was gained. The first canoe scraped against the bottom and the girls piled out to pull it triumphantly onto the beach and then they flopped down exhausted on the sand. WHO WILL HELP THEM? By KAREN DOHERTY Hungry faces, large sad eyes Swollen stomaches, painful cries Homeless children, meal-less days Will for them, you people pray? You at home after a hearty meal, Turn to bed, while the hungry steal. Dark long nights : n open spaces, There you ' ll find these lonely faces. PAGE 101

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FEAR by Cathy Hughes The waves were pounding out the surf, Destroying life with reckless mirth. The ships were tossed about at sea, While people for their lives did flee. The wrath of Neptune shown that night Filled one small boy with eerie fright; For trapped upon a narrow ledge, And grasping tightly to the edge, He watched the waters rising high, And felt the cold of death draw night. The waves were beating at the shore, But one small boy felt fear no more. HOW TO LIVE WITH A SISTER by Barbara Stogryn Living with a younger sister is a very difficult and widespread problem. My mother says that when I was an innocent child of four, I actually longer for a sister. I find this increasingly difficult to believe. Just taking today ' s events into consideration, I find myself praying I could be in that blissful state of being an only child again. However, enough of this hopeless, wishful thinking. We elder, molested brothers and sisters must learn to face facts. Psychologists tell us that this is just a restless stage which the poor dears are experiencing, and ten years hence, we will be longing to hear the patter of little feet again, even if they ' re pattering on a meticulously laid-out dress pattern. Therefore, the question is how to steel ourselves against total mental and physical collapse during this period. We shall begin by analysing the problem. A sister is the lovable little bundle you tuck into bed at night, kissing her tousled curls and handing her your comforting old teddy bear. Then, precisely six hours later, she awakens you by playing a lively game of tug-of-war with the cat ' s tail. One minute you are soaking up her praise and worship as she says that she wishes she could be as grown-up as you, and the next, you ' re bribing her to tell you where she hid your lipstick. She saves up for half a year to buy you some special oil pastels for your birthday, and, just to make sure they work, she draws a colorful hopscotch on the driveway. Thus we are back to where we started, the only conclusion we have made being that sisters are undefinable. However, from this fruitless attempt of understanding, we discover that sisters do have a few healthy ideas, and possibly, with a little encouragement and a lot of patience, they may amount to something, someday! PAGE 100

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GREED COMES FIRST, DEATH SECOND by DON PAULUS He ' s three days late, grumbled a short bald man as he glanced through the cabin window towards the sky. Suddenly, he heard a low droning in the distance. Rushing out of the cabin he peered through the pine trees to catch a glimpse of a plane against the shadow of the mountains. It circled and finally landed on the sparkling surface of the glacial lake. It glided to a stop almost touching a second plane. A huge man bounced onto the dock. He slowly tied up the plane and began to unpack his gear. Tony, yelled the angry man from the shadow of the trees, What took you so long? I ' ve been freezing here three days waiting for you. Startled, Tony answered, Mr. Tosser, well, I don ' t know. I guess I just clean forgot the exact day. ' Knowing you I guess you would. Well, dummy, don ' t just stand there, start unpacking, griped Tosser. Turning towards the plane, Tony muttered to himself, After ten years, the first day he sees me he bawls me out He ' d better watch himself! Finally around dusk, after lugging the last of the supplies and equipment up to the cabin ' s porch, he tumbled onto a cot near the rough wooden door. Sleepily, Tony lay there admiring the golden reddish glare of the sun as it fell be¬ tween the snow-tipped mountains. At last, he finally fell into a troubled sleep. The sun rose early the next morning with Tony standing on the shore catching trout for Tosser ' s breakfast. After cleaning and filleting his catch, he jogged up to the cabin. The door slammed as Tosser yelled from his bed, Hurry up, we have to get started early. We ' ve only got three days left to lug those gold bricks out of that mountain cave and onto the planes. Where are we going to find buyers? questioned Tony. Red China, idiot, can t you- even use that blockhead of yours?” stormed Tosser. After quickly eating, Tosser piled the shovels and other equipment on Tony ' s back. At last Tosser ordered, Let ' s go! Hurry! Picking up the lunch, Tosser quickly started towards the rushing mountain stream. Turning at the stream, Tosser looked back to see Tony stumbling towards him. Hurry up! You ' re slowing me down, idiot.” Swearing to himself, Tony listened quietly and caught up. Stumbling and tripping, Tony followed Tosser ' s anxious footsteps up the steep rocky mountain path along the rushing stream. Soon Tosser stopped as the stream roared out of the mountain at that point Idiot, help me up onto that ledge. Dropping his tremendous load, Tony pushed Tosser up onto the ledge. Exhausted, poor Tony dropped to the ground watching Tosser run along the ledge to a group of pine trees and began scratching near a rock. Crawling onto the ledge Tony heard a scream from Tosser. Dig there, Tosser pointed as Tony trudged towards him. You ' re not going to order me anymore, stormed Tony. You ' ve been getting under my skin for a long time and I ' ve been waiting for this chance. Pulling out his gun he shot the startled Tosser. The sound of the gun echoed resounding throughout the mountains. Tosser dropped to the ground swearing at Tony. Laughing to himself Tony picked up his shovel and started digging at the marked spot. After uncovering a cement slab he used his fantastic strength to pull it out and throw it aside. Kneeling he pulled a lever. Instantaneously part of the mountain slid open leaving a small cave. Lighting a lantern he joyously jumped on the ground and crawled inside the tiny passage with the light before him. In the distance he could hear the rushing of a river. The roar increased as the tunnel opened into a large cavern. Cautiously he shone the lantern inside the cavern to see a thin wooden bridge crossing roaring rapids in a gorge. Through the darkness he could see the dull bricks of gold bullion After some time in a dream world, he got up and packed a box with the king of metals. He began to lug the tremendous weight across the creaking bridge when suddenly in the gloom of the dimly lit cave, he noticed a strange figure crawling from the tunnel. But you ' re dead . . . , dead! screamed the terrified, shivering form of Tony above the roar of the rapids. The bridge swayed as the bloody figure of Tosser stumbled toward him. You dirty double crossing idiot, gasped the body. Please don ' t, don ' t come on the bridge it ' ll break! begged Tony. In that second of never ending time, the bridge crashed, carrying Tony, screaming hysterically with the body to their final doom leaving the gold to the natural elements and the world. PAGE 102