Rabouin High School - Rab Jab Yearbook (New Orleans, LA)

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. . STURIIIES . . The Ball QI T be God! if Clst Prize-Short Story Contestj When the three heavy-coated figures en- tered the inn no one dreamed who the wounded man was. Some said that he was handsome enough and strong enough to be Prince Ivan himself. But Kasimir, the innkeeper, knew the truth. He put the wounded man in the finest room with his dearest Lubov to wait upon him. The other two men, soldiers, too, did not get so much attention. Kasimir's wife, Lubov, was a faithful nurse and soon the young man was trying his legs again. But there would be a fear- ful scar across his thigh-a sabre scar. However, he seemed impatient to be off again to the fighting. He stared nervous- ly out of the window at the snow-beaten landscape hearing for the first time a voice as lovely as a bell. It was a high voice but still sweet even though the song was about thwarted love. Startled he turned to Mia, Kasimir's daughter. Who is singing like that? Mia arched her sleek head and fiounced Does it bother you, Sir? The man at the window rubbed his lean, handsome features. No, I only want it nearer. And from that day on the young boy, Nadyadrei, came and played his guitar and sang for the convalescent. Seven whole days! At first they were very for- mal, Nadyadrei very shy except when he sang. Then they began to laugh and gos- sip about Mia and Vladimir and the oth- ers. But once they neither laughed nor spoke and the soldier asked the little musi- cian a question. A translation from the Russian language meaning death . Wlhen a person: dies his spirit goes to the Ball of the Gods. RAB-IAB Why is it, Nadyadrei, that you have a girl's name ? Nadyadrei shook his long golden-brown hair and wrinkled his attractive turned- up nose. It is very simple Sir. You see, I am a girl. At this remark the man turned as red as cranberry wine. Sing your last song to me Nadyadrei, as I am leaving early in the morning. So Nadyadrei sang her favorite song. It is a song that all the people of old Russia know, the Song of Nadyadrei Cor of Hope J. Hope was a poor peasant girl with dreams of beauty and splendor. She worked hard and dreamed her quiet dreams and longed for a beautiful gown that she had once seen a painting of- she even prayed for this lovely gown. And one day a handsome prince came to the small town and left the frock of her dreams for her to wear. However, Hope had no place to go to wear such a garment. But she cherished and kept it, and one day when she was still young and fresh, Hope wore it to the Ball of the Gods. So Hope or Nadyadrei of the song was buried in the dress of her dreams. Nadyadrei stopped playing and the two sat and looked at each other, their hearts beating together in silence. The soldier got up and paced about the room. Why do you love that song so? he asked Nadyadrei. Because it tells about a girl with your name? l That is one reason, Prince Ivan, the girl answered, and the bloom of cherries came upon her pretty cheeks. But all women love to be dressed becomingly, Your Majesty l She curtsied deeply to him, completely charming him in her boy- ish attire. A sigh shook his whole frame. You knew ? Seventeen

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v r E 2 2 E aw E s

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We all knew, Your Majesty. A Prince cannot hide himself in the daylight, even without his crest, Sir. Reluctantly she seemed as if to take leave, but Ivan said, Wait l She stood still and Prince Ivan kissed a strand of her bright hair. Good-bye, Nadyadrei, he said strangely. I'll not forget. You are going to fight again? the girl shuddered slightly. To fight Koshchei the Deathless- And kill him! Yes, Ivan turned to the window and Nadya- drei left the room haunted with lonely dreams. Kasimir and Lubov were neither unkind nor kind to her, merely cousins who considered her a useful bit of en- tertainment for a tavern. So the days went by. The cold left and warm days slipped in and out again until crystals froze in the trees. Nadyadrei, dressed in woman's clothes now, played for the people that came and went in the tiny town. She was thinner and a bit paler yet the men always noticed her. But to Kasimir's disgust she would have none of them. In sudden anger one night Kasimir sent her out to see about the live-stock. It was bitter cold and bluster- ing and Nadyadrei's apron Hew up around her head and showers of the snow fell on her. But somehow she liked it. It reminded her of the cloak that Prince Ivan had worn. And the snow sparkled like jewels on the dream gown. Then suddenly she realized that she had been veered away from the path. She was neither here nor there, and a blizzard was blinding out her eyes, whipping her white skin, hurting her funny little nose. Try- ing to Walk was useless. She stumbled, giving way to the swirling cold blasts of ice and snow. Her deep dark eyes closed and white frosty petals blew into her lashes. Nadyadrei sank into a weary numb sleep. ' Eighteen They found her body the next day smothered into a shining coverlet of snow. All in the searching party were stricken for all were fond of happy dreamy-eyed Nadyadrei and her lovely music. Kasimir could not bear to look at anyone, so big was his heart. A wide-eyed Lubov met them at the door. A strange light was in her eyes when she saw the men with the body of the beautiful girl. Kasimir, look! she whispered to her husband. And they all looked. There upon the foremost table in the tavern was a dress surely spun of spider's silk and diamonds and pearls. Its beauty made everything in the room hideous in comparison. Its whiteness was like snow. Mia sprang to her father's side an eager light in her eyes. It was sent to Nadyadrei-but now that she is-gone, may I have it, father ? Kasimir did not speak. His dark beard and brow were heavy. He looked as if he might kill his own Mia. He picked up the note that was pinned with a gold clasp to the dress. It read: To Nadyadrei of the dreams and songs. Prince Ivan. From Prince Ivan ! Mia exclaimed. Lubov went over to Kasimir who had his head in his hands. It was not your fault, Kasimirf' she consoled him. Kasimir looked up at her, a strange light in his eyes. No, he said slowly. It was meant to be. You remember, Lubov, that song little Nadyadrei loved to sing? Yes, Lubov nodded. She wanted a lovely frock, too. And she will wear her new frock, Lu- bov. Nadyadrei, more splendid than her dream, will go to the 'Ball of the Gods'! ' Betty Kemp RAB- 1,-11: