Miss Halls School - Hallmark Yearbook (Pittsfield, MA)

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THE RED RING Billy had buck TeeTh and a crew cuT. His TeeT were Too long Tor The resT oT him. and he was shy. BuT aT The age oT seven he was one oT The sweeTesT boys I have ever known. IT was during The war and There were abouT Tour Tamilies living in a liT- Tle valley cuT oTT Trom The road. The houses were connecTecl by small lanes, and There were shady gardens and. aT The boTTom oT The valley. a huge ravine wiTh a wooden bridge over iT. IT was our world. and The war seemed very Tar away. Our bungalow was builT inTo a hill which had been Terraced inTo a garden of diTTerenT levels. InTo This garden you could walk Through The French doors on ThaT side oT The house. In The TirsT spring days we used To have lunch on The wisTeria Terrace. Trom which we could see all The liTTle houses below in The valley. The sun made pale, warm paTTerns on The old TlagsTones, and every day we waTched a Tamily oT cardinals in a nesT in The vines. In The evening we could see TireTlies in The silenT darkness and smell The rich cool loam in The garden. The TirsT Time I played wiTh Billy was in April. The crocuses were up and everyThing smelled damp and springlike. My broTher and I were hiding behind a bank waTching him play by his house wiTh The mosT beauTiTul liTTle blue sTove I had ever seen. We waTched his inTenT Tace wiTh a sorT of haTred, and The more we waTched The more we wanTed The sTove. My broTher picked up a rock and Threw iT aT him. WiTh The ThoughTless cruelTy oT children we conTinued To Throw sTones unTil Billy ran inTo The house weeping. Scrambling up The bank. we snaTched The liT- Tle sTove and Tlew back across The ravine. We hid The Treasure in our secreT hideouT and hoarded iT Tor days. BuT Then one morning when my TaTher was working in The garden. he called us To him and Told us reprovingly ThaT we musT reTurn The sTove ThaT we had Taken. How did he know? We looked aT him wiTh eyes round in amaze- menT. IT seemed illogical Tor us To have To reTurn iT, like a deTeaT oT our superior inTelligence. buT aTTer an hour of procrasTinaTion we wenT sheepishly back across The ravine wiTh our Treasure. Billy looked aT us wiTh grave, hazel eyes when we silenTly handed him his sTove. Then his Tace broke inTo a shy smile and he asked us inTo his house. I remember The liTTle blue and yellow Tlowers on The kiTchen oilcIoTh. and The Tizzy gingerale and buTTer cookies. When The cow bell sounded across The hill calling us home To dinner. Billy smiled aT me, his eyes crinkling aT The corners. and said. Here, This is Tor you. as he puT The liTTle blue sTove inTo my arms. From ThaT day Billy STuarT was our Triend. IT was The beginning oT a Triendship ThaT was parT oT one oT The mosT pre- cious years oT my childhood. In The winTer Billy and I used To go sledding on The Top oT an old Table. Holding each oTher very TighTly we would go spinning down The icy hill like a Top. One grey aTTernoon we seTTled down on an upside-down card-Table To Take a Trip To The Yukon. Billy Tucked me in wiTh blankeTs and comic books, and we sTarTed down The longesT rouTe we could Tind. BuT we TorgoT ThaT a card-Table could move so TasT on an icy crusT. and in no Time aT all we were Tangled up in a whiTe. Turry heap aT The boTTom oT The ravine. comic books and card-Table legs sTrewn everywhere. ATTer ThaT very shorT Trip we gave up The Yukon. I remember Billy's house. I can sTill see The TronT hall and The grandTaTher clock wiTh The blue-glazed halT-moons. I can sTill smell The hoT milk and The waxed Tloors. Because Mrs. STuarT was TerriTied oT illness, The house always had a hoT. op- pressive air abouT iT as if someone were very sick upsTairs. ThaT March Billy did be- come ill and They Took him away To The hospiTal. When he was gone, I used To play wiTh a liTTle girl named Flossy Morison-and almosT TorgoT Billy. BuT when spring came. They broughT him home. I remember when I saw his window open Tor The TirsT Time, ThaT I ran lickeTy-spliT down The hill wiTh Tears sTreaming down my Tace Page 3I

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Then ?here was Maxie ?he Taxi . This amazing specimen o? cab driverhood was on ?he verge o? suing Eddie Can?or. I was alone on ?his ?rip. which was ?i??y blocks long. I? seemed ?ha? ?he driver had once wri??en a book abou? ?he s?range experiences he had had wi?h various passengers he had driven. Eddie Can?or had s?olen his ma?erial ?o use ?or Maxie ?he Taxi , a s?ory which was ?old in children's books and on records. and which has ne??ed him ?housands o? dollars. For many blocks l heard abou? ?he speeches ?ha? my driver had made in ?ron? o? ?wo ?hou- sand people a? a big ho?el. abou? how he had a righ? ?o his royal?ies ?rom Mr. Can?or. and abou? his plans ?o sue ?ha? ac?or. Wi?h ?he money he planned ?o collec?, he was going ?o leave his na?ive habi?a? o? Brooklyn and go 'ro Europe on ?he QUEEN ELIZABETH. These are jus? ?hree examples o? cab drivers whom l remember. There was also ?he one who had recen?ly come wi?hin abou? ?our minu?es o? having a baby born in his cab, ?he ?a?herly one who convinced me ?ha? l should have a milkshake ra?her ?han a cigare??e. ?he ?ough ?emale driver wi?h dyed red hair. and-.?he so??ly-spoken man wi?h ?he big black mous?ache who ?old me abou? his you?h in Whi?e Russia before ?he Revolu?ion. Mos? drivers have a ?endency ?o seem shy. sullen. or rude. I have ?ound ?ha? in order ?o have a ?airly scin?illa?ing ride. one mus? draw ?he driver ou? o? his shell. And one may 'rhen discover ?ha? New York cabbies are o??en more in- ?eres?ing and amusing ?han ?he average person one meels every day! Alexandra Lukin. l955 THE BONFIRE Crackling brigh? on ?he s?ones O? ?he beach. S?re?ching ?endrils Of s?rong young ?lames. The ?ire ?reads air, aler?. People ?ading In and ou? o? range S?umble ?o arrange ?hemselves In ?he dark shadow O? ?he blaze. Bushes crouch and wai? Under ?rees. Whose valen?ine lace Ou?Iines Decora?e ?he solid sky. Sounds of 'T Plinking gui?ar And mellow voices. O? ?he secre? slap o? wa?er Massaging Rocks and hard sand. The swelling glow A Of ?he enchan?ed circle Reaches ou? To black in?ini?y. Jane Lowry, I 955 Page 30

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because I knew ThaT he was home. Every day ThaT April I used To go To see him and bring him odd Things from The ravine because he was lonely and could noT go ouT. And Then my parenTs Told me ThaT we were moving away. Somebody was go- ing To buy The house. I could noT cry. I could noT even speak. Didn'T They see ThaT They were Taking away my whole world? I wenT down To The ravine and saT for a long Time hunched up on a fIaT rock beneafh The bridge. I remember The fungus and The pale ferns along The bank, and The moss hanging from The eaves of The bridge. My face wavered in The rippling waTer. When I heard someone scrambling down The ravine. I knew iT was Billy. WiThouT a word he climbed onTo The rock opposiTe me. Alix. he said, I know ThaT you are going away. And I ThoughT-well. you know, I kind of wanfed-er-To give you This. Here! The lasT words came ouT wiTh a rush. And very carefully he puT a liTTle red plasTic chicken ring on my finger. and looking aT my dirTy hand. added. I wanT you To marry me. I So Billy and I were married. My aunT invifed us To her house in Rosemonf which was very grand and impressive. My moTher gave me a whiTe saTin slip and her own wedding veil. Bryan. my cousin. wiTh a flower in his buTTon-hole. gave me away. Flossy Morison and her liTTle sisTer were bridesmaids. Their moTher gave us a liTTle cake and a whole case of ginger-ale-for champagne. My broTher was The'minisTer in a cassock made of my cousin I'IaroId's black airplane Targef. A friend of Bryan's was supposed To play The organ Ian accordianl buT, because he wanfed To go To The movies. he was very uncooperaTive. and squeaked The organ loudly behind The cur- Tain. Finally infrigued by popping The corks in The boTTIes. he sprayed ginger-ale all over my aunT's rug. When everyone laughed. The service was Thrown inTo momenTary confusion. I was so angry ThaT I hiT The horrid boy wiTh my saTin slipper. Excepf for ThaT flaw iT was a beaufiful wedding. The nexT affernoon Billy and I wenT on a Two-hour honeymoon. We followed The ravine sfream unTiI we came ouT in a liTTle clearing by a spring. IT was one of Those genfle April days. The waTer looked dappled in The brighT sun. The grass was new and sofT. and sandy-smelling rocks proTecTed us from The wind. If you squinfed your eyes. you could see on The opposiTe bank yellow buTTer-cups and Queen Anne's lace riofing in The skipping wind. We leaned againsT The rock and aTe The delicious lunch which had been packed in my plasTic Tea seT. The IiT+le ring looked brighT on my finger-round and perfecf. Then we moved away and Billy and I grew up. And we puT away Those days of our childhood. One day in December abouT Ten years IaTer I ran inTo him on MarkeT STreeT in Philadelphia. He was handsome and Tall as he sTood There looking down aT me. IT seemed like a happening in a second-raTe novel excepf ThaT There was no excifed Tingle running down my back. iusf a whiff of surprise and a warm feeling. ThaT is all There was To iT. If he had been sfaying in Philadelphia longer. we mighT have meT again, buT he was on his way To Canada. As I wenT home ThaT day. I ThoughT abouT The Tall boy. The erecT figure. The ocld eyebrows ThaT meT over The bridge of his nose. and The deep voice. I wondered if I could ever again be aTTracTed To This sTranger who had been so much a parT of my childhood. A few weeks IaTer when I was clean- ing ouT my jewelry case, I came upon a small whiTe box Tucked away in The back. I opened iT and There was The liTTle red ring. Amused, I puT iT on my finger for a momenf. Then dropped iT inTo The wasTebaskeT. The following summer I read in a newspaper ThaT he had been one of Three persons killed in an aufomobile accidenf in Canada. The prinfed page blurred fuzzily. I saw The broad shoulders and The handsome face as he sTood looking clown aT me on The windy sTreeT. Then The sTreeT Turned To a field of yellow buTTer-cups. and The The ring on my finger was firsT a red plasTic ring and Then a diamond ring-and Then no ring aT all. I heard iT Tinkle as iT Tell. Alix Hegeler, I955 Page 32