Elmwood High School - Inscripta Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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The Stranger I walked slowly towards the lecture hall. Glancing down at my watch, I noticed that it was seven-thirty. The lecture would start at eight. Upon entering the huge auditorium, I decided to sit in a back- row seat. I picked up a program from the seat next to me and began to read it. Apparently this lecture was going to be about battles fought by Canadians, during the Second World War. People were beginning to enter the hall. After ten minutes the onslaught of men and women re¬ lented but a few sporadic groups rushed in at the last minute. The curtains were drawn back and in the middle of the stage stood the lecturer. A young man suddenly appeared from the wing of the platform and introduced the lecturer. Dr. Braicken, to the audience. In a loud and booming voice Dr. Braicken said: We Canadians can justly be proud of the soldiers who fought for our great nation dur¬ ing the Second World War. They have won glory and prestige for Canada. I listened intently to his speech and digested it eagerly. After half an hour has passed, I realized that I was being overfed. To make matters worse there was no dessert; humour was scarce but four- syllable words were abundant. While gazing about the auditorium I noticed a man standing in the doorway of the side exit. He seemed to be different from the other people there. In dress he was different. This man wore a dull dingy overcoat and shabby trousers. His face was weather-beaten; he had a parchment-like skin. His forehead was hideously wrinkled and it held a continual frown. The eyes of this man were deeply set in their sockets and the huge dark eye brows produced a horrifying effect. Beads of perspiration appeared on his face as stray rays of light pene¬ trated the dark corner of the exit. This man ' s face revealed the silent, subtle turmoil that possessed his mind. As his speech was drawing to a close. Dr. Braicken ' s eyes fell upon this desolate fellow, whom he instantly recognized as an old war¬ time buddy. The lecturer gestured to his old friend and the desolate man walked slowly to the stage. Dr. Braicken shouted proudly: Ladies and gentlemen, this is Bob Helton, one of the best fighter pilots the Canadian Air Force has ever had. During the Second World War this man shot down over twenty Nazi Fighter Planes! A deafening applause arose from the audience. As Bob Helton stood in the centre of the stage I knew that pride did not grip his mind, for shame and regret were too deeply rooted in his soul. Murray Trudell 10-28

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A Forest Fire Weary as I was from hunting on that autumn day, sleep fell upon everything but me. Endlessly my eyes searched the opposite banks of the lake. How could I rest, while knowing my companion might be alive and suffering within the devil-like fires which raged across the forests near the shores of the lake. The blaze grew, but the spark of hope within my heart weakened. The shrieking winds sent flames high into the heavens, to join the stars in their infernal dance across the skies. Huge trees swayed fiercely before toppling to the ground with a crash. The bushes along the ground crackled in reply. As the fire moved closer to the shore, it flung its hand out across the lake, not succeeding in reaching my side. The waters of the lake frothed fiercely upon meeting the scornful fire, and sent smoky mists into the sky. Slight breezes blew towards me carrying the scent of burnt meat. Could this tomb enclose the life of my faithful companion? Just then, a huge fiery creature dove into the lake. The water sizzled about it. I dashed forth shouting, Teddy! Teddy! He swam as though pursued by Death. I heard him yelp for help. Alive, the beast was--but, it was not Teddy. Out of the water had sprung his ever-lasting friend, his dog. Pat Kozoriz 10-28 Opening Night I walked stiffly down the centre aisle feeling uncomfortable in my stiff collar and new suit. My stomach was squashed against my ribs; my entire body was taut; my eyes were squinting into the glare of the roving spotlights, but mechanically I moved on. My first night! Mr. Benson whispered his final advice to me from the owner ' s box in the front row. Put your stuff across with pride, son, he said. With this thought fixed in my mind I turned and faced the crowd, feeling the hot glare from their stares. My tongue was balled against my tonsils; I could scarcely breathe, but I had to say my lines. I hesi¬ tated while the nausea shook my frame; then I opened my mouth, cleared my throat, and the words flowed out, Peanuts, Popcorn, get ' em before the show starts. Jim Baker 12-1