Mitchell College - Thames Log Yearbook (New London, CT)

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,T aTTernoon was jusT a liTTle beTTer Than The one which preceded iT. Kip would do bizarre Things. SomeTimes he would run up and down and over The hills, screaming his head oTT. He spiT and swore a loT, buT iT was naTural Tor him. And Cara, Cara was loving. She would sneak up Trom be- hind and Throw her arms around my waisT. We would Tumble and roll and hug each oTher under The' brighT noon-day sun. She-never goT mad or ran away. SomeTimes she cried, Though, Tor no apparenT reason. BuT she always loved. ln The evening, aTTer dinner, Papa and I would siT ouT on The crooked wooden sTeps oT our home and waTch anoTher day .melT inTo The disTanT hills.iPapa wassold and wise. He would siT sTaunchly, his brown TelT haT squashed on his grayehead, and speak oT liTe, oT him, oT me, buT more so Tor himselT, l Think. Then he would ask me oT my day, wiTh eyes ThaT somehow Told me he already knew. lvlosT oTTen l would Tell him oT my experiences wiTh Kip and Cara. He lisTened To me wiTh a coy, apprehensive look ThaT someTimes made me Teel he didn'T believe. NeverTheless, I could be assured ThaT he would always ask and lisTen. And so each summer day ended wiTh The sunseT. ' A i . A l remember mosT vividly ThaT aTTernoon in laTe AugusT ThaT came so abrupTly. Papa decided To have aa man-To-man Talk wiTh me beTore l leTT Tor whaT was supposedly my home.. IT was diTTer- enT Trom allour oTher Talks. He looked sTern and somewhaT like my TaTher when he Told me ThaT Kip and Cara were dead. I ' , l 'lhey are dead and neverlived, Sonny. Ya have To Tace ThaT beTore you can grow up and be a man. They are noT real, They never were, They never can be. Ya don'T wanna go Through liTe making up Tibs do ya, Sonny? Huh Sonny? . . ' K There was a lumpin my ThroaT and a disease in my hearT as l buried my head in Papa's sTom- ach beTore geTTing on The Train. I haTed perTumed ladies and busy people. IT haTed deaTh. BUT one summer oT yesTerday pasT,There did live a boy named Kip anda girl named Cara. One summer, in The complusive TanTasy oT a shell-like child, lived me. I . g And so you see I have come To doubT I All ThaT I once held as True h l sTand alone wiThouT belieTs The only TruTh II know is you. i. conner nr

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