Saltus Grammar School - Yearbook (Hamilton, Bermuda)

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On the Surface of the Moon Damon ' s lead soles echoed dully on the ladder; again, and a third time, until he halted momentarily on the bottom-most rung of the seemingly frail construction. His eyes rolled sluggishly from left to right across the bleak landscape scrawled carelessly before him, and mixed emotions jolted his mind. He was indeed the first man ever to set foot on the moon, and this thrilled him immensely, but the scene laid across his vision was truly depressing. Razor-peaks jutted like warts from the crepe skin, and coUosal crevices ran like giant wrinkles on an ancient face. With a hard swallow and a reflexive upward glance, Damon slid his left foot awkwardly off the ladder, followed nimbly by his right. Both feet hit simultaneously, creating a powdery cloud of light dust, which hung like a curtain about his ankles. He stepped clumsily forward to reveal a pin-point accurate footprint in the silt. Damon admired his historic masterpiece with a warm glow of satisfaction and pride. In a series of comical, clown-like steps, Damon moved slowly away from the module, then turned to admire it, in it ' s mighty technical glory, glowing with an eerie lunar sparkle. His view dropped to one of the four spindley stilts which acted as legs . A cloud of concern misted his eyes, as he noticed a minor buckle about four inches above the inverted dome-shaped foot, nestled lop- sidedly in the earth. Realizing that there was nothing he could do with the infraction, Damon bounced lightly on towards a massive crater. The awesome feature engulfed the remains of the midnight and swallowed approximately fourteen miles of the lunar surface. Far off to the east, albino cliffs, illuminated by the sun as it crept over the western horizon, climbed heavenward against the raven sky and fringed a massive plain of undulating pebbles, smoothed and sculpted through thousands of years of gentle lunar breezes. Tilting his head back on his muscular shoulders, Damon scanned the Zodiacal Corona and stars through his foggy glass face-plate, and turned to observe: Wraiths of luminous gas were rising from a fissure running laterally through an oblong boulder. Indeed, a most barren scene , resounded in his mind. Gary Brangman S3H Surrealistic ' Hey, Ma, Can I keep him? ' — THAN BUTTERFIELD 5F lar dscape — RICHARD AMOS, 5F Tarzan of the Oleanders Kreegahaah! I shrieked, as I sailed through the air, without a rope. It was Saturday morning, and my favourite comic show had just finished. I had only watched one of them: Tarzan of the Apes. ' He had been swinging through the jungle trees with such ease that I thought I would copy him. I didn ' t have vines, but I didn ' t need them; the branches were closer together than his trees were. I got dressed, and left the house at 10.00 a.m. and I ran to the ' jungle ' , bare foot, with a European ' skimpy ' bathing suit on, which I imagined was made of jaguar skin. Into the depths of the trees I climbed like a cat, and I did not stop until I was at the top, overlooking the vast, spread out jungle and plains before me. Then, with a blood curdling yell, that was meant to call Tantor, Barba, and other such animals, I plunged from the tree, meaning to gracefully land on the other branch, but found myself in a different position. I was diving for the ground, at a speed, faster than Tarzan. Thump! The next thing I knew, my mother was bending over me. Tarzan had vanished, and has never appeared again. Robert Jones S2P

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The Deserted House Glory for the Mother Land, the Red Army, and the great Russian people , the commissar had exhorted. Vladimir Vyshinsky had learned to disregard the commissar ' s speeches and to remember instead the Red Army soldier ' s Golden Rule; Fight, and fight bravely. Indeed, if he didn ' t, he had two options, be captured and be worked to death by the Germans, or be shot by the political police if he retreated. However, you cannot fight an invisible enemy, and this was what faced Vladimir ' s platoon as they searched for stragglers from the retreating Wehrmacht in Vladimir ' s home town of Kursh The platoon, already depleted by sniper fire, was cautiously advancing through an open field toward a deserted looking house. There was a sudden din of machinegun fire, and before Vladimir ' s grenade had removed the gun, ten of the eleven Russians had drowned under the waves of lead. Vladimir waited for nightfall to approach the house, lying amongst his dead comrades to escape German bullets. When the blanket of darkness had descended upon the landscape, the house ' s silhouette showed Vladimir that the house was indeed his own. Vladimir crawled across the grass between his comrades and the house, happy to be on such familiar ground. He slipped noiselessly through a window into the bathroom, the fallen plaster reminding him that a major battle had just ended here. Rifle at the ready, he slithered out of the bathroom door into the hallway. He warily entered the living-room, made sure it was deserted, and swept the room with his flashlight beam. He was saddened to see that shrapnel was embedded above the mantel, where he used to keep the family portrait. Then he remembered that German planes had strafed the refugee column from Kursh, killing his wife Anna, and his baby boy. Saddened by the memory of all that he had lot, and of his future which some trigger happy German pilot had destroyed, Vladimir wandered from room to room forgetting that there was a war on, and that he was a part of it. Vladimir remembered all the good times they had enjoyed in the house, when friends and family made the hard life bearable, even made it happy. But that was all in the past, before his world had been shattered. A past which seemed all the more Utopian and far-away, in this miserable, deserted shell of a house. He wandered on in a stupor of grief, until, too exhausted to dwell on his misfortunes any more, he halted at his bedroom. He opened the door and took a step over the threshold. A sudden movement in the dark brought him back to reality, but, before he could react, he felt something explode in his chest, before slipping into a final darkness. The house was not deserted after all. R. L. Scares S4K ' Daniel in the Lion ' s Den ' — ELWOOD FOX, Senior Year I) 1 c r Record Album design — GREG SCAFF, 4K Sweeney Talks to Vladimir for R.J.G. Death and the Rauen drift above and Sweeney; guards the horned gate. The lonely smoke of cigarettes Is wandering in the air. Each hand around the table holds A cocktail glass with drunken care. 5r The game of cards is over now. But no one can recall who ' s won. The cards upon the table scattered; An unseen image on each one. Our friend, with great good humor, Picks up the cards to do a trick. The hand is quicker than the eye But the tortured mind is twice as quick. I turn and see you smiling up. Upon your eyes a distant stare. Self -Portrait by ELWOOD FOX, Senior Year. Across your face a veil of smoke Is wandering in the air. Exactly where your thoughts have gone I have no way to tell. Such are the terms of our confinement In this our air-conditioned helL And yet our minds go stumbling on Like dmnkards groping in the dark. Do you not see it Vladimir. ' ' That tree behind you. rising stark. It rises up with twisted limb To touch a long extinguished sun. The game of cards is over now But no one can recall who ' s won. John Mnlderig S.Y.

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The Fight The Law of the Wild: eat or be eaten. This was the law which prevailed over all animals in the frozen Northlands, especially the vwotves. It was quite a large pack, twenty to thirty wolves, that pulled down a large buck, and ate every scrap. It was the very same pack that staled to dwindle in size as pairs sheered off for the mating season. We had only about ten left in our pack soon, and there were three males constvtfly fighting for the companionship of a certain female. It all started when the youngest male, the three-year-old, nudged up against the gaunt, battle-scarred old elder and received a snarl in return. He then decided that he had taken enough of this kind of response, and lashed out at the old wolf. He then proceeded to attack him, clashing his ear to ribbons. Then it became a one-sided battle, as a newcomer joined the scene and set upon the ambitious three-year -old with the eider, and proceeded to destroy him. Meanwhile, the female looked on, and was pleased, for this was the law of the wild, and forgotten were the days they had hunted, fought and howled together. The business of love was at hand; a much sterner and crueller business than any other. Thus the young wolf yielded up his life and sank to the snow, because of love. Now that that problem had been solved, the big gray, the newcomer, turned to lick a wound in his shoulder leaving the curve of his neck exposed. But the old wolf was wise, very wise. He saw his chance, darted in low and closed his fangs, ripping, slashing deep into the great vein of the throat. The other snarled terribly, his snarl breaking amidst a tickling cough. Bleeding, coughing, already stricken, he sprang and ught as We faded from him, light dulled in his eyes. He sank to the snow; his blood staining it pink. The female still sat, contented in the snow and smiled as wolves do, for this was the love-making of the wild, tragedy only to those who died Adrian Fusinaz SIB The Test The question sheets were handed out and the louder noises died away. Brains simult£ineousJy clicked into motion as pens went to paper and boys started thinking. An intruder into the test would find it very quiet, almost silent compared with the outside worid, but to the boys taking the test it was all but quiet. They would notice the clicks of ball pens being taken up from paper, and the rubbing of hand and pen across the paper. Usually unnoticed sounds such as the turning over of a page, or the deep muffled throb of a boy trying to knock the answers out of his head would seem clear and definite. Indistinct whispers, depressing groans and relieving sighs would be louder than ever. The sharp clatter of a pen or pencil hitting the floor would cause everyone to glance around until having found the criminal, they turn back to their test. When the five minute warning was given a high tension would build up as boys raced to finish. The rubbing of hand and pen across paper would increase in speed. Groans would increase in frequency as the rushing students would make an increasing number of mistakes. Once the papers were collected in, answers would hit the students like machine-gun fire, and they would walk away sure of a fail. Lines S2P Record Album cover: DAVID BENEVIDES 4M Dawn Gradually the first faint glow of dawn began to appear over the distant horizon. The dim light steadily grew stronger and soon it dispelled the thk:k, black, almost tangible darkness of the night before, leaving the blurred, shadowy outlines of trees and buildings in its place. As the objects grew more distinct, the animals began to awaken. First, the loudly charping sparrows and cardinals fluttered out of their carefully built nest in search of food for themselves and their young. Next, the little mice began to busily scuttle back and forth between the tall, green blades of grass that were still covered with shining, glistening, drops of dew. Somewhere a cock crowed, and his ringing call was quickly answered by several others. Now, alarm clocks began to shrill, a tomcat started to howl, and shutters noisily opened, while the strong smell of bacon and eggs drifted along on the silent wind. The new day had begun. The Gardner Angry Look! — ANONYMOUS! Nicholas Glynn 52 P ' Cooling Out ' — ELWOOD FOX The Old Man Time had wrinkled his face; His soft eyes were hooded by aging lids. Yellow teeth decorated his mouth. Curtained by fading pink lips. The once tight skin that closed in on solid muscle Now sagged with defeat over weak bones. His chest was bald and withered And he hung his head low in shame. The room was dark and smelled with age He sighed and rested the boney head on the stool — and he was dead. Ian Mackie SIB 12 years old