Union High School - Reflector Yearbook (Union, ME)

Page 25 text:

Matty woke suddenly, groaned and rolled over to peer out the window beside the bed. He wished ferverently that Marie were there, someone who would meekly accept his midnight raving spasm. He labored in raising himself to a sitting position on the edge of the bed where he sat, sweating off the illusions created by his nerves. The whisky bottle from which he was pouring a drink nearly fell from his hand as the kitchen clock struck 12:30. For minutes he silently stared into the drink which he clutched in his quivering hand, pondering his promise to Marie that he would not wet his mouth with liquor while she was away. Presently his will power broke, and he literally threw the straight, hot drink down his throat. He followed with another and another until the bottle was dry. Why, he must have wondered, did he continue to drink like this, when actually he desired more than anything else to put an end to this unspeakable habit. Matty fell back heavily onto the bed where he lay, gazing out the window into a dense fog. His breathing was now heavy, and his eyelids were drawing low. The pattering of the rain, which, before the drinks, would have been shattering to his nerves, was now music to his ears. Presently Matty saw a flash of flame diffused by the fog somewhere upstreet in the direction of the prison. This was followed by a sputtering sound similar to that of a sub- machine gun. He sat upright in bed, straining his eyes to see if it had been a dream. Twice more he saw and heard quite clearly the same flash and sputter, which he now was certain was occuring at the prison. Riverlets of sweat streamed down his face as his confused mind came upon the idea of gunmen and murderers infesting the neighborhood in the dark of the early morning hours. Struggling drunkenly from the bed, Matty staggered blindly through the dark kitchen into the front hall to slip the night lock on the front door into place. He was horrified by his extreme nervous illusions. Returning to the kitchen, he swayed around into the right position to catch a glimpse of a dark shadow slipping past the front windows. 'He stood, petrified, waiting for the sound which soon came. A sharp rapping at the front door broke the stillness of the house. This was followed by a louder slamming of feet and fists upon its oak-wood panels. The only person that this early caller could possibly be in Matty's clouded mind was a convict from the prison break which he was certain had occurred. The knocking on the front door had stopped, and Matty, in spite of his confused mind, thought of the unbolted back porch door. While making haste to reach the back door, Matty collided with an easy chair in the living room and fell sprawling on the carpet. As he lay there panting, in an effort to regain Z1

Page 24 text:

T HE LEGENDARY BUCK lt was a day we have never forgot, When we saw that Buck in back of jim Scott's. There was you and I with Howard and joe, When we saw those tracks in the fresh fallen snow. We started out right after dawn, With hopes of getting at least a fawn. After following those tracks for an hour, We came across old jim McDower. He was so excited he could hardly talk, But he spoke of the Buck with hair like chalk. We separated then to corner the deer And we all felt the old buck was near. The air was silent but not for long, A shot! then another, came like a song. We had seen the buck with the great set of horns, And we all were assured that the buck was no fawn Gerald Torrey Class of '52 HIGH SCHOOL He stood upon the threshold, His heart was filled with fear, Dreading to step across the line To start his Freshman year. No longer is he timid A year had rolled along, He is a silly Sophomore And life is just a song. Anxious and joyful He could barely wait, Among his junior fellowmen His jolly role to take. And now, how proud and sedate he stands Filled with grand elation, For here it is, long looked for day, Has High School Graduation. Carleen Hanson 'Sl Z0

Page 26 text:

his breath, he heard the back porch door open and close. The sound of heavy footsteps and the tone of lighter footsteps were heard approaching the living room. Wasting no time, Matty bounded to his feet like a frightened deer. Upon reaching the front hall, he began to fumble with the night lock with shaky, sweat-drenched hands. The stealthy footsteps drew closer. Suddenly Matty threw back his head and released a mighty howl of despair as would a wild beast when in the jaws of a trap. He whirled and bolted the length of the short hallway into the den, slamming the door as his hideous cry died behind him. When he reached the pitch dark interior of the damp and unheated den, he began fumbling for the lamp switch. His trembling fingers connected with the cold plastic of the switch and began to snap it as if they bore no strength. As soon as the flood of golden lamplight filled the small room, Matty made his way to the old fashioned mahogany desk and tried to open the upper drawer. After yanking at it violently, he concluded that the drawer was locked. Frantically he began throwing the papers about on the desk top in a desperate search for the key. He interrupted his searching long enough to listen to the voices coming from the kitchen. A man with a heavy, booming voice was saying he thought a man had run into the room at the end of the hall.and that he would investigate. Very much like an animal in a trap, Matty was making his last attempt for freedom. His face was contorted with horror as he drew up his huge, hairy fist and smashed it through the locked drawer in a shower of splinters and blood. His torn hand darted into the desk, grasping a 4-5 Army automatic in which he always kept a couple of slugs just in case of such emergencies as a burglary or a prison break such as he supposed had occurred. The door knob turned abruptly as if whoever turned it .meant business. Matty ceased trembling and became exceedingly tense. The big hand steadied the muzzle of the 45 in the general direction of the yet-closed door. For awhile the door did not open. This meant to Matty that the man outside must have been listening for a sound within. Suddenly the door burst open, revealing a huge man, clothed in some sort of a dark cloak which Matty naturally took as a disguise to assist him in his prison break. Unnoticed by Matty, his own finger was becoming tighter and tighter on the trigger as he stood tensely surveying the hulk of man which silently stared at the weapon. The automatic roared. ZZ