LITERARY PAGE
Dan’i’s Afraid of the Water
By MILDRED WILSON
U
■^■-“-E hated the seaside.
A long time ago—when he was
very little—Mom had given him
a little tin pail and a shovel and
■ said—“This is to take with us
to the ocean where we’re going
to live.” Dan’l was awfully happy
then—because he liked to dig in
the mud—and Rog, who was
also Daddy at times, said that
^ there were blocks and blocks of
funny dry mud to dig in.
It was terrible after they got
there though. They stayed at a
house on top of a huge rock—and
that was nice—because even
though it was a funny dead gray
color—there were bright red and
orange flowers around it. Dan'l
liked the house. And Dan’l liked
the mud that they called sand.
Only he always sat facing the
Steep slanting dunes. Dan’l hated
the ocean.
He overheard Moms talking to
some of the people one day when
he was supposed to be taking a
Bap. He wasn’t sneak listening
■—he just wasn’t sleepy and was
lying thinking of good things to
eat. It was just between the
crash of one big wave and the
surge of another. Her voice was
• high and clear and with the hint
1 of laughter that was always in
Mom’s voice.
"Oh yes, were certain now
that Dan'l’s just a little bit of a
coward.” And there was the fol
lowing crash of the next wave
and her voice was drowned.
Dan’l felt a funny numb feeling
in the pit of his stomach. He
didn’t know what the word cow
ard meant. Only mother had the
same sound in her voice as when
she was laughing at Daddy for
drinking too much and falling
down when they had company.
He was three—almost four—
then—and that was a long time
ago—three years in fact. And
now Dan'l knew what coward
meant. Knew it with a sharp
sureness that was a constant
feeling in the middle of his chest.
Coward was the sudden burst
*bf tears when he hit his fingers
against something—or the sud
den horrible revulsion when a
snake writhed across the path in
front of him. Once, when he had
cried out in fear, Rog made a
short angry sound of annoyance
and picked up the ugly curling
thing and thrust it into his hand.
Dan’l remembered the sudden
blind terror as he flung the snake
away and ran screaming down
the beach.
But most of all coward meant
the feeling Dan’l had toward the
ocean. In the beginning Moms
and Rog had thought it was rath
er funny—and they had been
gentle with him. The first day—
hack when he was very small—
Rog had picked him up on his
hack and taken him out in the
white froth called surf. It seemed
fun—to be high on Rog's broad
warm back, and the water was
so very blue. Dan’l had laughed,
a short, choking, gurgling little
boy laugh.
And then, with the suddenness
of pain, the wave had roared
over them. It was a strong, mean,
pulling wave and Dan’l felt his
arms being ripped from around
Rog's neck and he scraped and
bumped along the wet sand—
with the water sweeping over
him, till everything was sudden
ly black.
After all, Moms had argued at
first—it’s only reasonable that
something like that should fright
en him. He’ll get over it in a
week or two. But he didn’t.
JpOR a while they tried to make
him go in. the ocean—but al
ways as the first cold tentacle of
water reached his toes he would
start to cry. Then he would get
sick.
Pretty soon even Moms stopped
finding excuses for him. She
would just look at him wistfully
—her blue eyes puzzled. She
wouldn't even scold Rog when
he’d say roughly, “He’s just a
sissy, Judy—there’s no use try
ing to make a man of him.’’
Dan’l knew he looked like a
brave boy. His shoulders were
wider and squarer than those of
the little boys he sometimes
played with. And Moms used to
say he was as brown as a little
nut. But sometimes not looking
like a coward made it worse.
There was the time when one
of Mom’s friends, whom Dan’l
had never seen before, came to
visit them. She had a deep boom
ing bass voice and when she saw
Dan’l she had boomed, “Well,
look at the little blond Tarzan.
I’ll bet that even you athletic
youngsters have a hard time
keeping up with him.”
The funny ashamed look that
came into Mom’s and Rog’s eyes
twisted inside Dan’l.
Rog had said gallantly—“I
guess he’s more the poetic type.
A little more interested in birds
and flowers than competing with
his folks.”
Mom had smiled at Rog then
and patted his hand. Don’l was
glad when the lady with the loud
voice went. But he didn’t forget
what Rog had told her.
He knew it was true. The only
• • *
White keys stretch from here to eternity—
An ebony profile etched in living flesh—
Creator of the blue chords in forever music.
(Mr. Duke: when they hear your music:
They should feel your brothers—
Fifteen million strong)
In the half lighted shadows of a great nation . . ,
Listen!
IN MY SOLITUDE
SOPHISTICATED LADY
MOOD INDIGO
Drifts down the darkened Harlem alleys—
The molten blues pierce the night air—
Tearing the souls out of midnight mystery stars
For the little fellow on the street . . .
IN THE SUBWAY
BY THE PARK BENCHES
ON THE PULLMAN
l
That which is in their dark bodies—
Comes out in a creative display of
Caressing emotion . . .
Sweet—low—sad—unexplained.
—Ray Dickson
times he was smooth inside was
when he clambered up on the
smooth grassy cliff in back of
the rock on which the house was
anchored. It was good-smelling
like Moms, and there were wild
strawberries sometimes, and most
of the year if he hunted he could
find brilliant little grassflowers.
He would lay on his back and if
he put his hands over his ears he
couldn't even hear the ocean.
Just a faint noise—that might
be something else, beating against
his cupped hands.
JT was a long time after he first
heard the word, “war,”, that
Moms sat down with him and
told him that Rog was going to
go away for quite awhile and
there would be just Dan'l and
she. Dan’l knew it was not good
—and yet from his store of
knowledge realized that now the
thing was decided there was
nothing he could do about it.
He asked, a bit matter-of
factly, when he was going. Moms,
with a little sort of relieved high,
told him it would be anyway two
weeks. Then she drew him up
close and said, her voice terribly
serious,
“You'll have to take care of
Moms then like Rog does now, till
he comes back.”
And Dan’l, suddenly big with
new confidence, smiled reassur
ingly at her.
Two weeks had never passed
so swiftly. There was the con
fusion of packing, and the con
stant noise of people visiting,
eating and partying at night af
ter Dan’l had gone to bed.
Once he woke up—very late—
because he was thirsty, and was
surprised because the house was
so very quiet. Then he heard
faintly, so dimly that it was al
most a thought instead of a
sound, a rasping of smothered
sobs. They went on for a long
time and a queer new rage welled
up in Dan’l. Something was mak
ing Moms sad, and it wasn't Rog
or Dan’l or anything they could
fight, just something. This odd
strength and fury swelled out to
Dan’l’s fists and they doubled up
tightly and he lay there a long
time in the dark, staring at the
black ceiling. Even after the
sound of Moms had stopped and
all was quiet save the breaking
and crash of the waves on the
rocks.
'HE next day was the last.
■*- There was finality in every
thing from breakfast to the firm
way Moms told him to go out
side to play or upstairs and rest,
while a cocktail party was going
on. There was a strained despera
tion that said that this day must
seem as all other days.
As he threaded his way through
the groups of people talking in
the living room Dan'l passed Rog
and touched him and smiled. Rog,
startled, glanced down and then
gave him a rough comradely
push against the head. Dan'l
knew with hardly thinking about
it that Daddy was feeling fuzzy.
He hoped he wouldn't get loud
and noisy in the way that made
Moms feel bad. At lunch she had
promised that tonight Rog and
Dan’l and she would be all alone
and they could take a walk up
the beach, and then, later even
than bed-time, they would go for
a long drive and take Rog to a
train.
Dan’l knew it wouldn't be so
good if Daddy was wobbly and
Mom’s eyes were clouded.
He rested upstairs for quite
.....:.«««*.. .. nnill.iniiuilliiiia
Part and All,,,
Pink and purple thistle at the road:
Sharp-sprigged hawthorn hedges on the lanci.
And tiny crocus cups; and you and I t
With withered pinks, and barefoot in the sand, *
What music cuts the air with such precision
What droning thickens on the clover field;
What sudden rapture on the lovely land;
And you and I. and silent with our yield.
Lift the pinks and kiss their heavy heads,
As tenderly as though you kissed my face; |
Those tiny heads are part and one of all
This lovely world, and we have left no trace.
—Peggy Overla' (
Literary page staff:
Editor: Carol Greening
Contributors:
Mildred Wilson
Ray Dickson.
G. Duncan Wimpress
Peggy Overland
awhile but he couldn't sleep. Even
the long while he had lain awake
last night couldn’t make him
sleep. The sun was coming in
through the window and he began
to perspire through his blue den
im shorts and red striped jersey.
Dan'l decided suddenly that he
would go out and climb up on the
cliff where it would be cool and
fresh.
He went quietly down the back
stairs that ended in the kitchen.
He could hear the people laugh
ing and talking in the front room.
It was a pleasant comfortable
sound. Dan'l stopped to listen to
them and was happy suddenly,
for no reason.
He heard one of Moms' friends
say shrilly, “Well, Judith, at least
you'll have Dan’l to protect you.’’
There was a gust of laughter
and Dan’l felt strong and power
ful. He would protect Moms.
Rog was speaking now, in the
slow drawling voice he had when
he was troubled or angry. “Hell,
a lot of protection he’ll be in a
place like this. He's so damn
afraid of water he vomits every
time he looks at the ocean.’’
There was another gust of
laughter that almost covered
Moms’ “Oh Rog—”
Dan'l walked out of the kitchen
and down on the beach. Somehow
he didn’t want to go up on the
cliff now. He was suddenly very
cold, even though the sun was
warm on his face. The big feel
ing of power had shriveled into a
little hard ball in his stomach and
he tried not to think but Rog's
words pounded in his ears . . .
Afraid of the water, afeaid of the
water.
Dan 1 sat down in the sand and
started to whimper. Everything
was bad and wrong. He just sat
there awhile, legs still in front
of him, back to the ocean. Odd
thoughts began to tumble about
his mind. He began to know
slowly, without realizing that he
knew, that more than the pull
ing force of the ocean—he hated
the queer ugly tone that had been
in Rog's voice when he had last
spoken. Rog didn’t think he
could take care of Mom. He
thought he was a coward. Dan’l
stopped whimpering.
Warmth began to come back.
He wasn't a coward any more.
He knew he wasn't. That funny
hidden strength that he had felt
last night, hearing Moms cry,
came back. He wasn’t afraid of
anything any more—except tha.t
dark tone in Rog’s voice, and
Mom's crying.
He stood up, turned toward the
ocean, then slowly and deliberate
ly started out to the surf. Slowly
at first, then running and shout
ing like Moms and Rog, Dan’l
ran towards the ocean. It felt
odd down near the water, with
the sand wiet and curling be
tween his toes. He stopped a mo
ment to feel the soft cold sensa
tion it sent through his body.
LOOT
The wind stole diamonds ttoi.-a the
rain
And touched them to the wi ,ow
pane;
But rays of sun, like jealous men.
Stole them back to naught again,
—By CT. Duncan W impress,
Then he stared out at the sea.
It was bright, bright tuue and
ran into the blue sky. It looked
gentle and friendly. The ocean
seemed to smile at him with big
frothy waves of teeth, David
smiled back and trudged out into
the first thin waves. Hot even the
sudden dash of cold water against
his ankles was frightening, Ho
though of Moms and Rog how
proud they were going to be of
him. It was funny the way it was
further out. First it swept up
to his knees, and then it pulled
away till there was just a line
of bubbling water around bin
feet.
Dan'l chased a wave and it
turned and jumped back to meet
him. Very white and friendly. He
laughed shrilly a.s it knocked him
off his feet and' rolled him over
gently. He got up dizzily, steady
ing himself with his handy. Hi3
red jersey and his shorts felt wet
and funny and sticky. He shiv
ered. If he went back now it
would be almost time for supper.
He thought for a morrSaut of
chocolate and toast and looked at
the sea. There was a nice, big
wave coming toward him, grin
ning and leaping. Dan 1 wasn’t at
all afraid. He reached his hands
out to the wave, and smiled, and
felt very brave.
-HE tide turned in about half
an hour. The gulls, search
ing for dinner, cawed raucously
as they wheeled restlessly over
the thin line of sand and sea.
With the force of the incoming1
tide behind them the little reach
ing waves left scallops of ’loam
and broken driftwood on the sard.
When once the itch of litera
ture comes over a man, nothing
can cure it but the scratching of
a pen.
Samuel len/ey
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