Page 28 - Contrast1965Spring
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We smiled at each other and started back "Regulations command it," I salid as the board
towards the shed, looking for small branches broke and dumped me to the floor.
to take with us. Aside from the falling flakes,
we caused the only movement, and the only "Poo to regulations." With quick motions, he
sound was the hollow crunch of snow under attacked the next length of board. It broke
our boots and the sharp snap of twigs. We were again, but this time I kept my footing.
drawn closer together on that path back as we
ploughed our way between the separate trails "Don't look so glum. You'll make new friends
of our own footprints. We seemed to be think- here and won't need your big sister to go
ing the same thoughts about the black trees tramping through the woods."
etched against the white snow.
"But you make such a nice tramp."
The shed was warm compared to the yard as
we dumped our branches in a corner to dry. We grinned at each other and finished cutting
Turpentine hung faintly on the air from the the wood. As we worked, we were drawn to-
piles of old paint brushes and buckets that gether as friends and not as merely a college
had been collected by the former owner. Tom- student and her kid brother.
my pulled off his mittens and fumbled for the
saw. With a clatter, the saw slipped to the "It feels like Christmas again," I said as
floor. we started for the house. "Looks like it too."
The snow was still coming down in lazy
"What's the matter? Your fingers stiff?" swirls, and in the half light of late afternoon
it had a milky whiteness all its own.
"No, missing." He held the backs of his
hands towards me with the fingers bent. "The "I'll race you to the door," Tommy yell~d,
frost bit them off." leaping through the drifts and almost droppwg
his load. Laughing, we reached the ho~se
"If they're cold, blow on them." together and dumped our wood by the fire-
place. Off came boots and wraps and soon the
"Hoo-ha!" His breath hung in the au looking fire was burning nicely.
like steam from a coffee pot.
"That's more like it," Father's voice came
Balancing a dry board over a paint bucket, he from the doorway. "It looks like home."
started to saw the end off. I sat on the other
end to hold it steady. "It sure looks lived in," I laughed. Firelight
danced along the walls, by the window a book
"Do you have to go back to college Sunday?" lay discarded, and in a corner by four for-
gotten boots lumps of snow made puddles on
the rug.
Nancy Mengel
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