Seven Hills High School - Yearbook (Cincinnati, OH)

Page 76 text:

Milestone tone which I had spent all morning practising, said I believed it was Barney. My brother, who at times seems unbearably wise, replied sarcastically, I-low amazing! I bet you had forgotten all about him. I blushed to the roots of my hair, mumbling about the nastiness of little brothers, as Barney called a greeting and waved, all the while coming closer to the dock. I-Ialf of me wanted to hide, the other half, to jump up and down. All I did was sit there perfectly still, not daring to speak. He had landed expertly at the dock now, and was talking enthus- iastically to my family. At last he looked at me, making me glad I had put on my prettiest bathing suit and that there was still some curl in my hair. Aren't you even going to speak to your best beau, Susie? I must have said the right thing because he laughed and pulled me to my feet, dragging me towards his boat, but all the time my mind was a perfect blank: it was a wonderful blank, though, and I didn't care. Before we had been out sailing Hve minutes, I had lost my shyness, and he was teasing me and I was liking it, just as it had been before. I-Ie hadn't changed much, except that he was a little more serious than I remembered him to be, I-le no longer called me Susie. I was so happy in such peaceful and pleasant surroundings that I wanted the gorgeous morning to last forever. When Barney nnally brought me back. I was a half-hour late for lunch, but all I could think about was the afternoon, when Barney and I were going sailing again, and I pirouetted gracefully into the dining room, much to the disgust of my family, We were sitting on the porch when Barney came, and of course the whole family had to talk to him, while I sat there twiddling my thumbs, anxious to get started. All of a sudden Dad said, How long a leave do you have, Barney? I hope we'll be seeing you around a while, I'm afraid not, sir. My leave is up in a few days. I have to take the early train for Chicago tomorrow. Tomorrow! As if by magic a cold wind blew up from the lake, and the sun, just a moment before so warm and friendly, was now hidden behind a cloud, its rays bleak and depressing to my spirit. We were both silent as we cast off, for I was angry at being taken by surprise, and depressed because the things I had wanted would never be. Barney must have read my mind because he very quietly said, Mkt least we have today, Susan. Let's not ruin that, And I knew that he was right. We sailed for hours, while Barney told me about the Navy, about his hopes for the future, and too soon the sun was sinking, the sky was all purples and pinksg the night breezes were coming up, and we had to start for home, It's been a wonderful day, Susan, he said as we reached the dock. I only wish more than anything that I didn't have to leave. We've hardly had time to get reacquaintedf' No, Barney, it hasn't been really fair. I had looked forward to seeing you so muchl page 72

Page 75 text:

Milestone WINTERS CAN'T LAST FOREVER -The morning seemed endless. It was a hot August day, anyway, and sitting there in the dust weeding the hard gravel tennis court, breaking off all my beautifully cultured nails, was not my idea of a good time. I was anxious to get down to the dock for the noon swim, because I knew it meant that I should see Barney, and I had been waiting to see him for three years. Every time I thought of him, which was all morning, I had to sit back and gaze contentedly into space. Consequently, Mother began to get angry at my indolence, and demanded caustically how I expected to play on the court if I didn't work on it. So I had to do my dreaming and remembering secretly. It seemed like just yesterday that we had said goodbye on our dock, I, in my pigtails and faded blue shorts stained with red canoe paint, and Barney, in his colorful plaid shirt which it has since been my main ambition to possess. The sun was catching the light in his hair, and making his eyes more blue, and he was saying, So long, Susie. Be good, and remember your Uncle Barney. I'll see you next year. I could also remember the way he turned and stepped into his boat and sailed off, with one last wave of his hand, one last grin, leaving me alone on the dock, He had said that we would see each other the next year, but every- thing had gone wrong. I-Ie went into the Navy right after his graduation from school, and I suffered through those intervening summers in a hot, sticky Indiana town. Now, at last, things were the same as ever, and I was going to see him again, if the dreadful morning would ever end. I pulled the nasty weeds with greater vigor, as if the more I pulled, and the more irritated I got, the faster the time would gop I was soon one big dust heap. I actually loved my brother when he sauntered over towards the corner where I was working, and in a drawling voice announced that I could stop, that Mother had taken compassion on me since I was unused to such hard labor. I broke speed records as I changed into my bathing suit and raced down to the dock. I was as nervous as an actress making her debut, because I was so afraid that Barney would not remember me or the good times we had had together! After all, it had been three years, and both of us had changed, I knew. When I reached the dock, I had to look nonchalant and calm as I stretched out for a sun bath, because my family always seem to know what is going on in my mind, and they would not have let me live in peace if they had known I was so excited about seeing Barney, who was four years older than I. The whole situation had seemed, and still would seem, incongruous to them. I stretched out luxuriously on my stomach, feeling the sun hot on my back and legs. If I looked to the left, I could see a white sail about a half-mile away. Although it was too far for me to distinguish his face, I felt it was Barney. I-Ie was coming closer to the dock, while I chattered wildly to my family, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice. Finally at the proper moment, I sat up suddenly, and, in a surprised page 71

Page 77 text:

Milestone , Theres always next year, Susan, and I promise you this time that we ll have a wonderful summer together, After all, the winter can't last forever, He was holding the dock with one hand, while he helped me out with the other. He stood there holding my hand a minute, smiling into my face. Then he said, 'iGoodbye, Susan. I'll write, and remember about next summer. and he was gone. I don't quite remember what I said or did from that moment on, except that I could hear his words, I'll write, over and over, and I felt like singing, because I knew that he would. No. the winter couldn't last forever, and the wonderful summer days, and Barney. would come again. ANN VAIL, '46 f X 'Q ,I ur U High School Story -- Second Prize THE GOLDEN PULLET The warm sun beat down on a small boy's tousled head, but, somehow, it couldn't seem to dry the fat tear drop that lingered on the boy's tanned cheek. Toddy was trying so hard not to cry: but, try though he might, a loud sniff accompanied each memory which led up to his present sorrow. Toddy had lost his chicken. It wasn't just one of Daddy's many, but his very own. The chicken had really been Tommy's, too, for it had all begun with Toddy adoringly following his big brother, as the latter did the chores, Toddy's other two brothers never seemed to have the time or else were too preoccupied to bother with their little brother: whereas Tommy was never too busy to point out a new bird or call out, as he climbed into the truck, UI-Iey, fellow, Hnished your work this morning? and beckon to the eager boy to join him while driving to town to do the daily errands. As they talked, there grew between them a dear secret, almost a password. Tommy would tell Toddy of a little golden pullet. She was perfection in every way, and Toddy could readily see her soft golden feathers ruffle as a tiny Zephyr played with them. The man and the boy planned how, one day, they would discover this pullet, raise her, set her, and eventually have a small clean farm where, each day, the two of them would work and care for the offspring of their Golden Pullet. page 73