New Utrecht High School - Comet Yearbook (Brooklyn, NY)

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The Criminal By Sam Barru A tall young man stood by the window of the dingy little room on the second floor of the Mason-Arms Apts., smoking a cigarette. A tie dangled loosely from his neck. He pressed the butt of the cigarette against a tray with nervous fingers, adding another to the pile of stubs. A peroxide blonde with a heavy smear of lipstick, stuck her head through the doorway of the kitchenette. l'Ready for another cup of coffee, she asked. The young man swung around. I didn't want any more coffee, he snapped, And turn off that radio! 'iRelaX, honey, the girl returned. He took another cigarette from his case. 'lYeah, relax. Youlre not in on this jobf, By the window, Sandy stiffened suddenly. He went for the door, sail- ing back, 'iBe back in a minute. A guy just walked to the end of the W I hall, he glanced down the stairway to the door of the managerls room. A big man in an overcoat and hat was talking to the manager. They looked up the stairs. Sandy jumped back to the wall, as they turned to look in his direction. The words of the manager, Second door to the right, came floating to his ears. For cripels sake, I got to get out of here with this ice, he barked at the girl, rushing back into the room. Lock that door, quickly! You stay here and stall 'em off. They donlt know you. Here, you'll need some dough, if I got any! He fingered his pockets feverishly for his wallet. Must of misplaced it, he muttered. 'Tm Hat busted anyway. So long. He started for the fire escape. There were sounds on the carpet outside. A dull knock sounded on the door. Sandy! the girl was crying. You said you would never leave me like this again! Another knock on the door stabbed through the room. Sandy jumped for the fire escape. Go open the door. All right, Sandy. The girl wasn't crying any more. 'This time it's for good. Don't bother to come back because I won't be here! Sandy half heard the words as he sprang to the street. He broke into a run on hitting the sidewalk. Suddenly he checked himself. He glanced at the apartment. The girl was coming down the iire-escape with her grip. Twenty-three

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Sandy cursed softly as he bounded for the yards. The West Bound Express was backing up for a start when he sighted it. Sandy stood panting on the tracks. He scanned the yards and made for a grain car. Hey, off the tracksl' a voice came to him from behind. A burly brakeman was standing a couple of cars down. Sandy moved down a ways. There was a lurch in the cars beside him, and the train started to roll. Sandy sped up as he headed for the grain car. The brakeman ran up behind him: I said get off the tracks. Sandy smacked the brakeman again the moving car and let him bounce off on the ground. Two others started after him as he raced down the tracks. He was breathing hard. A policeman joined the other two. Sandy jumped for the railing. His hands gripped the bars. He pulled himself up and toppled into the car. The West Bound Express was moving fast now. Sandy rolled over in the corner on his stomach, breathing convulsively. Pk Pls Dk In the dingy foyer of the Mason-Arms Apts. a big man in an overcoat and hat walked up to the managerls door and rang the bell. The door open- edg Yes? I guess no one is in, he said. When Mr. McKay comes in, will you give him this wallet. I found it in the telephone booth at the corner drug- store. He must have misplaced it. Good day. I Am Young I am very young My life is very unimportant now. Everybody is talking about grave matters, important things- I am too young to be included in the conversation. My life has been made of small things- Recl shoes and ballet tlancers and small white flowers are all mixerl up in my life. Organtly curtains are important to me. I sway to music that no one hears. Let them discuss their grave matters. I will make a wish on the first star Anil smile at the first white flower. Twenty-four