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

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It will be easy to make them think I'm still only stupid. Mom and Dad keep saying I'm just a slow leamer and that I'm as smart as anyone else. But thatis just because they're ashamed to admit they have a stupid daughter. They are smart, Mike is smart, so they want me to be smart. So all I have to do is make sure I don't act crazy. That way they wonit have to be any more ashamed of me than they already are. Mike's the one I have to be careful about. He was the first one to know I was stupid. If he finds out that I'm retarded, his big mouth will tell everyone. I'll have to stay away from Mike as much as possible. Cathy, are you going to swim or aren't you? Yeah, Mom. Right now? Cathy stood at the end of the diving board. She concentrated on the water ahead. At least I can dive better than anyone else. I may be a second-rate person, but I'm a first-rate diver. With carefully measured strides, she ran to the edge of the board, leaped off and entered the water head first in perfect formation. She plunged downward until she reached the bottom. Voodoo He bared to show his needle marks, I sipped another beer, And though the foam Soon filled my mind The marks were still too clear. Soft stuff, soft stuff. . . We need something To take away the pain, And cushion All the needles, Now stabbing at our veins. by Glenn R. Turgeon PENMANSHIP With every and each word scratched by his pointless pen man errr etches a dull despairing doodle: the err dictation of a thumb-sucking mouth. by Glenn R. Turgeon

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o One Will Ever Know by Ginny Brooks Her big toe encircled a small bug in the otherwise spotless pool. A tiny whirlpool appeared and when she lifted her toe out, the water sucked the bug down under the surface. Cathy, Cathy, aren't you going to swim anymore today? Mrs. Bishop was nice enough to invite us to swim and you sit on the diving board. What's the matter, honey?,' Oh, she has been swimming, janet, like a little fish. Haven't you, Cathy? She's just cold. But the sun will warm her upf' Yeah, Mom. I'm just cold. I'll dive back in as soon as I'm warm. Ok, honey, but don't sit there too long. We have to go by four. Cathy looked back down for the bug, but it had floated away. She suddenly realized that she had killed the bug when she could have saved it. Poor bug, maybe it had a family, Cathy thought. She tried to picture a bug family in her mind but had a total blank. Instead, Mike, her brother came through saying, You're stupid. Bugs don't have real families. They lay eggs and then go away. They don't take care of their babies like humans dof' The voice was so clear, Cathy looked around for Mike. But he wasn't there, of course. He was at Little League practice. That's why Cathy had to leave by four. I must be crazy. That made Cathy jump because she had said it out loud. Gee, she thought, I must really be crazy. I'm talking to myself! She looked over to her mother and Mrs. Bishop, wondering if they had heard her. But they were talking to each other and were too far away from her to hear. With a sigh of relief, Cathy looked back at the water. I know I'm stupid, but I didn't think I was crazy too. I have lots of proof that I'm stupid. Like the time I studied a whole hour for my arithmetic test and got a 40 on it. Mike doesnit even have to study and he gets a 100. He always gets stars on his papers. I never get any. And that puzzle Aunt Betty gave me. It says on the box that it's for ages 1013 and I'm 11. Mike figured it out in no time and he's only 9, but I still can't do it. And that psalm I have to know for next Sunday. I've said it lots of times now but I still need the book to remember some of the parts. Cathy jabbed at the water with both feet. Now on top of being stupid, I'm crazy, she considered. She tried to think of other times when she acted crazy. Up until now she had not done anything out of the ordinary. This dawned in her mind the true answer. I'm retarded. That's it. Retarded people are stupid and sometimes they do crazy things. Her feet stopped kicking the water. She looked over to her mother. Mom and Dad would be mad if they knew I was retarded, she reasoned. They don't like that I'm stupid. Being retarded is a lot worse than being stupid. She stared back at the water. The crystal clear bottom blurred and Cathy realized that she was crying. Quickly she wiped away the tears. I can't let Mom see me crying. She'll ask me what the matter is. Mom and Dad must never know that I'm retarded. They'll never talk to me again. They already talk to Mike more than me 'cause I'm stupid.

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The Gray Man by Kathy Waltz A gray man sits in a soft cushioned chair, leaning his elbows on the window sill. As he gazes out his window on the second floor, you're sitting in the sun across the street. You watch as he turns his head from one direction to the other. Then he notices you. He stands up and leaves his watching post. You see the curtain, shaken by a breeze. Then you ask yourself, Why am I here? Here standing on the soot-cov- ered steps. Here to live? Here to grow old and wait for my death, or here to enjoy every minute of my short life? You think of all the many sights the old man has seen, and all he has learned. All the hearts he has broken, and all the love he has earned. But the gray old man comes back to his window and rests his back softly against the chair. He takes notice of your gaze again. He remembers his days of life and vigor. The time he was the star on the basketball team and every girl swooned at his sight. He remembers growing up. All the things done: alone and with friends. Then he recalls the day of his marriageg and the day of his wife's death. His head falls back, and you think he's fallen asleep. A sudden breeze shakes the window closed, and the curtains are left silent. You turn your head and see the kids at the park. Then your mother callsg and you turn around and go upstairs for dinner. THE PARADOX OF DREAMS Through life, men weep, as dreams come crashing to their feet, And then they wonder why they cry. I sometimes think men reach too high. And all men know that pies in skies And castles in air disappear. They vanish in the atmosphere of memories. And yet, the dreams of men ring through the halls of conquests and fulfillment. They are loud and clear for men who didn't have to cry Because they didn't let dreams die. While we scar ourselves with hope- lessness and cunning schemes Stars shine upon the dreaming man Who stumbles as he goes his way. His dream will be his life someday. Doraine Riley