Shimer College - Acropolis Yearbook (Mount Carroll, IL)

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THE RECORD What the hell, the younger man said. t'Shut up, Tenge, his companion said, what do you mean, 'What the hell?' We ainlt gonna let no inotheaten gent tell us what to do. We ain't had no dinner today, sister, you better get some ready. You ain't wanted here. Get out, the old man repeated. Quit grinning, Essie, and get in the house. Essie giggled. f'You heard her. What the hell, let's eat, the young man called Tange said. They started into the house. The old man shouted, You can't never trust a foreigner, Essie. I ain't gonna have nothing to do with it. Essie giggled again and followed the two men into the house. When they got to the kitchen, Tange sat down and the middle-aged man looked out the window. There were dirty dishes in the sink and a bowl of pancake batter on the stove. Essie fried the pancakes and set a half an apple pie on the table. The two men started to eat. They ain't many strangers around here, the girl said. Yeah? You're strangers. What's it to you, sister? Aw, let the girlie alone, Albert, Tange said. What's your name, girlie? Essie. Essie. 1 'KThaf your old man settin' out there? Tango asked with a jerk of his head toward t ie porc 1. Essie giggled and shook her head, U Him? That ain't my old man. 1'He ain't'? That's my uncle. I live over there, she pointed to the swamp side of the house, across the tracks. Alblizrt looked up from his plate quickly. The men glanced at each other. 'U huh. How far to the tracks from here? Essie f1'owned, N ear two miles on the road you was comin' down. I cut through the swamp when I go home in the evening. How far through the swamp?', Albert asked. About half a mile. I live right on the other side o'where the freights stop for water. She giggled and smiled at Tango. Yeah, girlie? Essie cleared the plates off the table. VVhere you fellas headed for? What's it to you where we're headed for, sister? Albert snarled. Aw let the girlie alone, Albert, Tango said, she don't mean no harm. Albert was looking out the window down the road they had come. He said, Let's get new Let's get goin As, what's eatin' you, Albert? I'm takin' quite a shine to girlie, here. I've aimed eo walk home with her. Essie blushed. t'I'm gon', Albert said and he went. Toward evening Tango and the girl started for the swamps. The old man shouted after them. The girl walked behind Tango. Come on, step it up, girlie. I ain't in no hurry to get home. Step it up. , , l Sometimes the path lead through reeds and hassocks. Cow tracks were imprinted in the moist ground. Sometimes the path wound between low grubby trees. The man and lissie had to bend double. I ain't never had no fella beforef' she giggled. Don't get no ideas, sister. You could sleep in the hay loft, she continued. I said, donlt get no ideas about mef' A train whistled in the distance. I ain't in no hurry to get homef' Essie said. Yeah, yeah, sure, girlie, Tango said and quiekened his pace. The path got muddier and muddier. Soon they were stepping from one hassock to another. goi Continued on page 54

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THE RECORD THE RETURN The pawn fell from her hand. It careened across the board, but neither of the two players tried to stop it. It didn't matterg the game was forgotten. A nervous tension ran through both of them. Two strands of hair loosened and fell over her weather-beaten face. She pushed them back. More hair came. It wasn't import- ant. They were sixty and felt it. Why shouldn't they look it? He leaned back, tipped his chair. Several times he pinched his taut lips. His strikingly high forehead protruded over drawn, bushy brows and the gray, deep-set eyes of a thinker. Suddenly he let his chair down. Both leaned over the table intent on something not the game. It was this seeing the same run-down chicken farm day after day and every night until the sound of chickens-even sleeping chickens-was maddening. lt was this kitchen smelling strong of kerosene smoke and the sound of .lune bugs banging against the window, but, more than that, it was themselves-each other-people whoid had ambitions. They hadnlt wanted money and had scorned those who wasted their days in its pursuit. Their marriage was to be the joining of two ivory towers to make each more splendid. It was successful at first. Schopenhauer and Goethe were more important than the people around them . They made no attempt to make friends. Their own talk had been stimulat- ing and had seemed never ending. But the silence came. Silence can come quickly. At first they didn't need to say anything. Then they could think of nothing important enough to break the silence. Quiet can miike it harder to talk than torrents. The quiet had grown louder the last few years until the sound of one's own voice was frightening. Bugs were piled high on the sill. The storm broke. A sudden commotion in the chicken house startled them both, and she heard him get up to find the cause. The door banged behind him. She was watching the bugs' futile struggle to reach the light. He was back. Fire over therein She was beside him at the door. Then they hurried up the stairs to see the flames from the better position. It was a big fire. He decided from the shape of the flames that it must be a barn. There was a new burst of Haines. Raindrops rolling down the window reflected red from the light. VVhose barn? lf it was the Sherman's, they needed their horses. They wondered, were the animals safe? It might be the Tuckers', the new family with the children, or the Whitehills' beyond the main road, but it must be the .lohnson's from the shape of the straw stack. No one else built them up that way. She thought he was clever to think of that. The kitchen no longer confined their thoughts. They were free of it. They were remembering names and discussing the people. They interrupted each other. This talking was good. All her hair was down now. His gestures were excited and vigorous. They both looked younger. A car from the fire skidded up the clay road. They watched its headlights come around the corner. Talking fast and loudly all the while he broke away and hurried downstairs and went out by the mailbox. He hailed the driver. t'Wl1e1'els the fire?', Barn at Ike .lohnson's. She was leaning out the window. They laughed and laughed. They could figure it out! LORNA D1sNsMo1m THE GIRLIE HAD IDEAS An old man sat on the front porch of the house. His chairwas tilted up against the wall and his feet rested on an up-side-down bushel basket. The house was partway up a hill with corn fields on the right, as you faced it, and swampy land with low trees on the left. Pretty soon a girl came and stood in the doorway. She looked all right, but she wasn't pretty. She had straw colored hair done in one braid down her back. Her mouth was too big. It was a hot, sunny day and she stood sniffling the air and rubbing her hands on the skirt of her cotton dress. See them two fellas comin' down the road? the old man asked. Yeah, I see them fellasf, The two men coming down the road turned up the hill toward the house. One was middle-aged and the other one was young. The young man was thin and his teeth were yellow. One was missing at the side of his mouth. Both men wore overalls and looked like they had been on the road a long time. When they reached the house, they stood and looked at the man and the girl. You ain't wanted here, the old man said, you better get out.

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THE RECORD