Hartland Academy - Ripple Yearbook (Hartland, ME)

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Be patient, I am coming, a voice said. The d-oor flew open and a small woman stood- in the doorway. Pablo's mouth opened and shock danced on the ends of his nerves. You cannot be Gina, he said. The woman stood in silence and spoke with amazement.. You are Dino? H'YeS.9! Pablo, come in and sit. Pablo slowly followed her in. It was a small thing that made us quarrel, Pablo, she said when they were in the room. Yes, it was, and my pride woul-d not allow me to return to you. But now you shall come home with me and- we will be happy once more, Gina. D. His wife smiled .up at him and said, We will be happy once more, mo. - SUSAN GRIFFITH '61 Lost Lofve Dearest X3 Please forgive me for the condition this letter is in. I am writing you from an air raid shelter. The Germans are bombing us again today. As I write you, I am sad in one way and happy in another. I am sad because this will have to be my last letter. These past two years by writing to you I have had an outlet for my emotions. Eiven though I have never seen you, I know from your own description what you look like. We have been the best of friends, but, alas, our letters to each other must cease. The reason is this: a couple of months ago I met a woman whom I liked very much. We fell in love and were married. This will come as a surprise to you because it is the first time I have mentioned anything about my social life. Please don't. write to me again because I will not answer you. You may have thought I was in love with yo.u. I am a little bit. Please forgive me. Au revoir, Ya Who are you writing to, Ammond? asked Clethia, his wife, out of the semi-darkness of the shelter. Just the insurance company, dear, he replied, knowing that it was a lie. The months flew by. Ammond and Clethia grew irritable toward each other and had frequent violent lights, arguments and quarrels. One night after a quarrel, Clethia, told Ammond that she was going to leave him. Ammond was so upset that he -stormed out of the house in a blind rage. He ret.urned and found Clethia gone. He began to drink and fell into a depression. One dreary evening while he was sitting in the kitchen of his apartment, he suddenly felt sick and passed out. His eyes opened slowly. He saw that he was in a small room with a few pieces of funiture. An elderly doctor came through the door and ex- plained where he was and how he got there. He had almost. been asphyxi- ated. He had turned on the stove burner, either on purpose or by accident. He could not remember. A few days later he was back in his own apartment. I must talk to someone, he thought. Who? I wonder if X3 would write me again. He took pen in hand, wrote a lengthy letter, mailed it, and waited for an answer. Three days passed, then four, and on the fifth day a letter came. He tore Sponsored by SNOWFLAKE CANNING CO.

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Gina A dark, heavy man sat alone in a tavern somewhere in Mexico. His black hair was mussed and shining with sweat, and he was reading an old, soiled letter. 'Gina'. She always signed her name that way. Not 'Love, Gina' or 'Yours, Gina,' just 'Gina'. The man was speaking to himself as though he were explaining the l'etter in detail to a child. . She never signed her true name and I never signed mine. It is strange that I should share my every thought with a person I do not even know. I wonder if she would remember the letters? It has been so long. Suddenly a cloud of anger crossed his mind. Ah, I should never have stopped writing to her when I married. But I must at least try. She was always so understanding in her letters. Francisco, F rancisco! Hearing his name, a small wiry waiter turned from the bar and walked quickly to the table. Francisco, a piece of paper and a pen for me, please. I have a letter to write , Pablo pleaded. You should see her, Pablo. No, Francisco, it would not do my pride good to go to her. No, please, the paper. Francisco returned to the bar and reached up to get a pen from a shelf. As he did, a glass fell and struck him on the head. There Pablo, do you see the trouble that you bring into my life? Now please do as I ask. Do not fear for my happiness, Pablo chuckled. I will leave you to your peace as.soon as I Hnishf' Concentration replaced the joy and he began. Dear Gina, It has been many years since I have written you. It may be that you do not remember me. Many things have happened. I married and it was bad. In your letters you were always so understanding. I would so much like to meet you. Please give me your answer soon. Pablo's face clouded and then cleared. I will sign it Dino as I always did. He then forced the letter into the envelope that Francisco had given him and left the tavern. For many weeks afterward Pablo haunted the post office. Each day he would ask, Is there no letter for me today ? And each day the postman would say, No, Pablo, are you expecting a rich uncle to die? Pablo would leave disappointed. It was raining. The kind of rain that comes and goes and leaves one with a dreadful feeling of melancholy. But Pablo went to the post oflice, for he possessed a strong faith in human beings. He was loved and trusted by many because of this faith. Is there no letter for me today? No . . . Well, there is a letter for Dino and it is your address. It is mine and many thanks to you, my friend, he said happily. Ho tore the letter open and read it with trembling hands. Dear Dino, It has been a long time. When I received your letter I did not know who this Dino was. Please do come to see me. Come to the address on the letter. He read the letter many times and started to Gina's address. The rain had passed, and the streets were shining with their new cleanliness. When he reached the right door, he knocked lightly, almost afraid of disturbing the person inside. Sponsored by SNOWFLAKE CANN IN G CO.

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oll' the envelope and read the contents. The letters continued to come. His only purpose in life now was to look forward to the letters. He occasionally thought of his wife, but he was gradually falling in love with Xt. It's funny, he thought, how much they looked alike. One Friday afternoon as he was walking up the stairs to his apart- ment, he thought he heard the faint drone of high flying aircraft. He stood stock still, waiting for the expected wail of sirens. No sound came. Baroooooommmminml The building swayed and creaked. Plaster sifted from the ceiling and cracks appeared in the walls. The movement. of the building jerked Ammond off his feet. He quickly sized up the situation, ran up the swaying stairs and burst through the shattered door. Through the window he glimpsed, to his horror, smoke-black thick smoke. He staggered quite dazed across the littered floor to the window and peered out of the gaping hole made by the blast. The scene confronting him was one of destruction. The whine of a blockbuster shook him from his shock. He looked up and saw the bomb looming closer and in an instant his whole life flashed before him. A minute later and he was huddled in a corner, unconscious and in a state of shock. He awoke in darkness. It was night and intensel'y hot. Fire curled around him. He was in agony for a few seconds then he slipped back into the blissful state of unconsciousness. Later, twenty-nine days to be exact, he returned to the shambles that was once his home. He had received from the bomb blast second degree burns and wounds from shrapnel. He rummaged, limping on his sore leg, through the ashes and twisted girders. He searched in vain. Dejected and sad, he started to leave. His eyes found an old, blackened metal box. Open- ing the lid, he unfolded some singed letters. As he read them, his face changed into one of joy and happiness. The letters were from Y3 himself, to Xt. Clethia must be XS, he thought. He scribbled a note and all it said was: Come home Xa! ' Love, Ammond JAMES BEER '62 What A Life! Don Jacobs was completely happy with his bachelor life, and he was determined to stay that way. He was a good looking man in his thirties, excellent in health and physical fitness. He would be a swell catch for any woman. One morning while lingering over his late morning cup of coffee, he glanced at the lonely hearts column in the local newspaper. There it was! Don Jacobs, age thirty-two, eligible, terribly lonely, will think of mar- riage and on it went, practically his life story for the public to read. Of all the tricks! he yelled, Wait until I see Jack. Jack was his best friend, and they had been through the war and everything else together. Practical joking was a common practice between them but this was going too far. He stormed to Jack's apartment, but he was no help to him, and feeling disgusted, he returned to his own residence. Several days later he received lots of mail. He read the letters out of curiosity and was amazed at the contents of a number of them. One woman, for example, asked him to marry her at once, and others longed to Sponsored by KEITH TAPLEY T .