Evander Childs High School - Oriole Yearbook (Bronx, NY)

Page 14 text:

CD ln lhe hold one bulb glows leebly, Under lhe ladder . . . Bul dim eleclric is no malch For lhe while hol coals . . . Under lhe bulb lhe slokers are pale, lleshless crealures, Planls wilh no sun, grey and drab . . . Bul lhe furnace, radialing sleady even heal, Draws sweal, like a magnel, Making lhem brealhing, wrilhing slolues ol copper, Red lighls and black shadows shilling and mingling On slraining bodies, bared lo waisl. Sweal mals lheir hair, Drips oll lheir chins, lheir noses . . . ll lhe molors were slilled, If God could crunch lhe perlecl, even, smoolh propeller Wilh one hand, and place a quiel hand over lheir wide cursing moulhs Then you could hear lhe sleady spang-spang Each drop made on lhe sleel floor. Bul God will nol come, He does nol know lhe Glory Hole. Nor care, believed Michael. He lhoughl God was smug in his Heaven, ln lhe green and cool shade, lhe rain lragranl wilh lhe smell ol pines . Coal dusl sellled in a black swarm on sweal-smoolh skin, Clung. Like bees, il ilched and slung, Wilh liny pricks lhal swelled inlo lorlure . . . He could imagine lhe dusl sucked in his noslrils Slucco-ing his windpipe and his wel, soll lungs Wilh a hard cryslalline surface, lill he lhoughl ll he would cough, his lungs would rasp and grind . . . He was sullocaling, sullocaling . . . The endless march ol days flared and glowed. Michael did nol hear lheir silenl lread- Time lo him was a blur in which he shoveled coal, ale, and slepl. Shoveled coal, ale, slepl . . . lill one day The lndian Ocean was sliding by lhe hull. Heal was so solid he had lo lorce air lhrough his flaring noslrils, His drying lungs gaping and heaving lor coolness. When he flung open lhe lurnace doors Heal leaped al his lace And licked up all lhe moislure, drying lhe skin, Till il fell fevered and llushed To lhe back ol his hand . . .

Page 13 text:

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Above, fhe sfeel decks melfed fhe rubber soles of fhe passenger's shoes: Drove fhem under fhe lazy whirling fans in fhe salon, Where rounded ice cubes finkled againsf frosf-silvered glass. lsn'f if ho+? fhey gasped. And drank. T And in fhe Glory Hole if was fhirfy degrees higher, wafer warm and flaf. He flung, shoulder muscles bunching in hardened knofs, Swiffly smoofhing as he flung wifh pracfised ease, fhe lumps arching ouf To spread evenly over fhe whife-hof glow and flicker away in gas. . . Tiny blue flames burned quiefly, licking fhe black coals fo ash . . . He clanged fhe door shui' and braced himself on his shovel, Legs ouf spread, fhe sweat running in fhe furrows of his face. Suddenly fhe ship lurched, once. Michael was fhrown off balance And sfumbled, arm oul' fhrusl' fo shield his body. For a second he did noi' feel if, fhen wave Upon wave of pain seared fhru his forearm. He sfood erecf and sfared af 'lhe red blofch. On fhe bridge 'lhe second mafe said, Derelicf, sir. No damage, sir. The capfain ordered fhe course held for fhe Red Sea, and wenl' fo luncheon The arm swelled. He lef fhe shovel clang .fo fhe floor, An fhen cursedhsfeadily. Then he furned, climbing up fhe ladder, And wenf fo sick bay. They kepf him fhere, v Moaning, as 'lhe sfeamer glided fhru 'lhe molfen glass of fhe Red Sea, The infense defermined blue of fhe Mediferranean. The docfor lel' him up al' Queensfown, and when she up anchored, He wenf fo fhe rail and sfood fhere-for hours, Till Ireland was dim in fhe disfance, - Her green hills misfing away like dream, - Melfing info fhe horizon. He sfood fhere for hours Till nighf came and fhe sea was shrouded in misf. He breafhed deep, hard,-fill he felf his lungs swelling, His chesf filled and sfraining. He fell' so clean inside, So cool . . . His was 'lheisea nighf, The cool reward of rain-washed air . . . Then he knew God was fhe rain, The misf fhaf pressed abouf 'lhe ship, And fhaf would never lef if go.