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Part of The Mosaic: 1970



The Mosaic is the undergraduate literary magazine,
published each year on the Marist campus
It is to
encourage creative writing at Marist
It also accepts
manuscripts from area campuses.
Editor - - Frank Furlong
Art -- Guy Tillson
Raymond Anello
Frank Furlong
Richard Gorman
Madeline King
Kevin McArdle
William McGowan
Clifford Melick
Guy Tillson
Moderator -- Mr. Robert Lewis
Typing -- Ken Haass
printed by
Brother Tarcissus of the MAR IS T

"Works of art are of infinite loneliness and with
nothing to be so little reached as with criticism.
Only love can grasp and hold them and fairly
judge them. "
.Ranier Maria Rilke
The problem of an introduction or criticism of any collection of art is
infinite. Any preciseness of language or aesthetic theory falls before their
feeling, and the problem in approaching them is their vagueness. They will
not bear any irritable searching for precision and detail. They will not be
condensed into any static phrase that seeks to define them.
This is my problem. I find myself talking around the poems and the
pictures and the stories and never, never approaching them. I will talk of
how Mr. Anello will give us a harsh, yet strong land to stand upon in "Rus-
sian Winter," tme music of Mrs. King's liberty bell, childlike wonder in a
dime, and the cryptic quality of Mr. Tillson's haikus. They all lack a clarity
of reason, yet holding that clarity of feeling that is warm and comforting.
I will call all these things works of art. They are lonely things, like
Rilke says. They stand above joy and despair, alone, with a frail breadth
of vision that affirms beauty with yes.
Frank Furlong

We Stand in the Road
Tom Plante, freshman editor of COLLAGE '68, is being
published for the first time.
Russian Winter
Composition: to someone kind
Ray Anello has previously published poetry rn COLLAGE '67,
The MOSAIC, and in both numbers of the independent
magazine CHARLES.
Five Haiku s
Guy Tillson, in addition to the excellent art
number of the
has done sketches for
and for both numbers of CHARLES.
work in this
Bill McGowan shows intimacy in a stream-of-consciousness
He is being published for the first time.
Kevin McArdle, former student at Marist, now studying
for the brotherhood in Tynsdale, Massachusetts, is being
published for the first time.
my true 1 o v e
1 iv es in a
1 i be rt y
be 11
Mrs. Madeline King, resident of Hopewell Junction, is a
member of the poetry workshop on form and meter. She
is being published for the first time.
Frank Furlong has been published in COLLAGE '67 and in
both numbers of the independent magazine CHARLES, of
which he was editor.
Clifford Melick, formerly a student at Marist and now
attending Siena College, has been published in previous
issues of the MOSAIC.
The Lost Ones
Richard Gorman is the author of a story written in a
contemporary idiom.
He is being published for the
first time at Marist.
1 5

The diesel sings to me when it is ready
si:ngs that today we must let loose,
today an::l no other
is the day we will be free of all this.
Outside my window roll the boxcars.
My window wakes me as ordered,
excited arid anxious for me to show the~.
But weeks of planning have drained me.
I'm tired
today I am less sure
it was easier when it was all emotign
it was easier in disgust.
My window is silent it senses my doubt
clouds above fidget about self-consciously
something tells me
to send the diesal on its way.
The air is moving gracefully along
to show me what it is
and she stands in the road
her hands reach through doubt
and we stand in the road.
Thomas Plante

by Ray Anello
I walk the ground beneath smoke clouds,
strong man in the land.
My father's land, my land.
My battered land.
The nights at home
close walls, warm wool,
brittle wi
dows smoked.
Winter outside ravishing.
I can hear the thunder on the plains.
Unnatural thunder.
Choking machine.
See a villager quick fall; his silenced face.
See him as an angry brother
frightened brother, see him fall.
I fall
Am afraid of ravishing winter.
I carried you a
sunset and bunched leaves
Because of love.
And innocent
I swirled beneath your hair
at night and lost the fears
I earned on blinking ground
before the noise of guns.
I carried you one, total, sunset
many gentle leaves
and dropping them I left; remember please.
The life that banishes the gentle mind
to quiet homes and reckless fields,
that quiet lays its palm priest-like
upon some boy,
is carried not believed.
I carry it like you, I carry it.
And walk this street
beneath smoke lamps
while winter pounds these questions
in my mind.

The clear raindrops touch
The branches gently. Can my
Fingers soothe your tears
Eagerly the earth
Hungers for seed.
heart is
Fertile ground for love.
- - -Guy Tillson
Threads of a spider's
Silken web- - I thought your hair
Brushed against my face.

by Bill McGowan
was horrible and I would wake up at 4 or 5 am. My mother and Father no my father did not care
either way. My father he just made noises and my father would yell but I always was able to go
down anyway.
was so quiet and still fairly dark i like it that way. I was really alone i mean alom
with no one. But there were others or rather another because of the dew in the field yes especially
the field because
it was such a long walk from the road to the stream through that long field of high
grass and stepping on a stone hurt. But those crickets and grasshoppers were wierd being up and
playing when the whole world was asleep. And I would reach the stream finally anyway and before
you saw it you heard it and the crickets and stones and the wet dew on your legs itched and made you
scared and you wondered if you were really going to be afraid. But the sound of the stream gurgling
and failing and moving taking with it everything that would move and that which wouldn't would even-
tually anyway although you didn't know it then anyhow.
was nice to reach the stream and see it
but you had to get scratched by the trees and the bushes with the thorns and you were afraid your
mother would yell and you looked in the water but there were bugs in it so you turned away to your
plastic warm box and then you had to find a clean stick to set thatworm on your hook because you
hated to touch him wet and sickly like your insides your guts like when you cut your finger deep really
deep and your mother wouldn't fix it because after all she had told you never to take a knife frcxn the
kitchen not even to make a bow and arrow like the brave indians but grandma wasn't afraid to touch it
and clean it and to put the bandage on it and maybe you would be like grandma someday in a fire en-
gine or in a gang in the Daily News grandma was good she let you have the deposits from the ginger
ale bottles after the parties when you would hear the noise and you were afraid even though you knew
everyone, Mr. McGrath was good because he gave you the money for the bottles. Why? I saw the
boy take the sugar and candy but I couldn't tell even though Miss Mullen said you must always tell.
The monster.
The worm would wiggle and squirm and the yellow stuff came out onto your finger. Put your finger
into the water. There was sand by the water but it wasn't the beach there were bigger pebbles in it
and it scratched. You'd get the worm on and drop it in the water and watch him wriggle and sink.
No fish. Were there really fish in the water i never caught any what would I do if I did. Don't think.
The clay pit the pit was on your left side and it was ugly. Once you stepped in
and couldn't get out
and it hurt under your arms as he lifted you but he smelled of beer from the party. My cousins were
smart but I didn't like my uncle Tommy and I didn't like anyone because it was my stream and there
was too much noise and parties should be at night anyhow. Sometimes a fish would come near the
worm but he ran away as soon as I saw him do fish get afraid too. And the clay was good to make
bowls and jars like the Indians. Margaret was good but she yelled if you touched her stuff. John had
to be shown and told what to do all the time and he was afraid and scared to do anything and would hold
my mother's coat when we went shopping in a crowded store. The trees bent down on both sides of
the stream and reached together in the middle so as to keep the sun out i didn't like
because I hated
the cold and the sun was good warm Yellow is nice but my canaries died so soo~ but my father would
always get another from Hartz i hated television but Hartz gave us canaries.
The wind could whistle like Captain Midnight's jet sometimes did but I hated it when I was alone but I
liked it when I was with my mother because her hand was warm and she would talk about nice things
but she didn't know that I knew she did
to keep me was
she afraid from getting scared. The
tree was big and old and half was dead.
The half in the clay was dead. The half in the clay was dead
and it was horrible because of those big lumps all over
and smelled dusty and
was so dirty the
roots were the worst. They were like the trees in the swamps in the magazine uncle George got. Big
and they grew above the ground maybe they didn't like it there under the dirt why did they put Uncle
Willie under the ground that's where the worms were. i hated it and would never go there. The cat-
fish lived under theroots they were in the water and they were the ugliest things I ever touched one
when I was swimming there and I shall never go swimming by the roots again.
He would come and just stay where he was and not move and I wouldn't dare turn to look at him because
I was scared and he was the ugliest worst thing that ever lived but I would not move. why not move no
I can't and then I would move my fishing rod just a little or see the sun or a bird or hear something
moving in the water and then I knew he was gone and I could go home. But I musn't let my mother
know or I wouldn't be allowed to go the next day.

The fledgeling sparrow cries in fear,
love lies no further than the lilacs.
---Kevin McArdle
smile and a tear in the eyes of a liar.
expressions etched in stone.
---Kevin McArdle

The statue I brought you
was like the fingers of a
young man who refused despair;
Some anxious man who'd leave himself
inside his work, then sigh at night because of
time, because the world
refused an artist's fingers
and would rather stay unshaped.
The statue I brought you
was like sad, slim fingers
reaching for good dreams.
---- Ray Anello
My true love lives in a liberty bell
Down by the singing sea
He dines on squid and salt cod stew
And serves me rose hip tea
He carved me a ring out of quahog shell
Down by the singing sea
A hornpipe he danced in the morning mist
And vowed he'd marry me
fishing net I tied for a veil
Down by the singing sea
I gave him wine made of beach plum broth
And he kissed me lustily
Where saltgrass grows with my love I dwell
Down by the singing sea
And every dawn when the flow tide runs
He sings a sea chanty
---Madeline King

by Frank Furlong
The winter came on the last day of October and with it came the cold.
was very
early for the winter to come but the old man and his wife did not argue with the winter on the plain.
The old man and his wife lived in a rectangular house ten miles from the river.
river flowed in the shadow of the mountain which was two miles farther to the west. About one
hundred feet from the house there was a small building that housed one horse, a p.ow that the horse
pulled in the spring, and some small garden tools with which the old man's wife used to work her
garden in front of the house. The garden showed mostly cactus. There was a rare orchid cactus,
a Death's Finger, and a star cactus off in one corner of the garden were some roses. Roses were
very rare in the plains.
From the house a road led to a village. The village was not really a village, but a
cluster of houses that lay on a small hill on the bank of the river. The village's name was Tatum.
The road also extended past the house farther into the plain, but it was not used.
had faded into
brush and tumbleweed. Only once had the old man gone further into the plain and that was only
because he was curious to see how far the road extended. That was a long time ago when they had
first moved into the house from the village. Thay had moved because they wanted to be alone.
They were solitary people and simple and they liked their life on the plain.
The first day of November, the old man rose soon after sunrise and preµ to start
for Tatum. He did not go into the village often and when he did he only went for supp.ies. The da:y
before he had noticed that the wind
ng the house through the walls and ceiling and he knew
that he must fill the cracks before the snow and the colder weather came. Through those cracks he
would lose much heat and that was precious in the winter. Wood was used to heat the house and
there was a sufficient supply of wood stored in the small cellar for five months. Having to use more
wood would deplete his supply quicker, and when that was gone there was nothing left to fight the cold.
was very cold that day. The sky was empty of clouds and the old man feared a storm
might rise before he returned home that evening. He had never trusted a clear day because one
summer two ruinous dust storms had follow
d after such a day; The small field that fed him and
his wife was full with crop.
was destroyed by the storm, as was the small garden with the frail
stems and blossoms lying in the sand.
He was dressed in a great coat that clung about his knees. On his feet were warm, very
worn boots. He had owned them for five years and they were made of hand-sewn leather. He had
bought them in town before he left. They were good boots and he had worked many days on the plain
in them. On his head was a woolen cap, and gloves on his hands which were made by his wife.
Tucked under his arm was a cloth sack in which he would carry the supplies home.
The old man had a wrinkled face and it was rough with stubble. He had not shaved in two
days. His eyes were gray and they looked ahead to the village as he began to walk. They were
determined eyes that looked for the village and did not find it for it was ten miles away.
He had started out very slowly towards the village, but soon he had quickened his pace,
firming it, and he hoped it would not snow 'till he returned home. He walked tall against the
flat land and in front of him lay the river and the mountain. And t~ mountain was strong like the
old man. He had always wanted to test his strength against the mountain. He wanted to climb it
or something - just conquer it. He had conquered the land, but there was always the high mountain
and even that seemed part of the land, though it was a little different.
was the only part of the
land that held against him, and by doing that he was not yet completely in control.
The old man's thoughts turned to the village for he could now see the smoke from the
tops of the houses, rising, in the village one mile away.
Tatum was small and in it lived l~ss than
one hundred people. Rising over Tatum was the mountain which was godd for climbing. But none
of the climbers that had come to Tatum to climb the mountain had reached the peak. There were
other peaks around the mountain, but none as tall and majestic.
When the old man arrived in Tatum he went to a small restaurant, for it was noon.
had round, wooden tables which were able to seat three people comfortable. They all had
and-white checkered tablecloths.
The interior of the restaurant had little adornment.
The windows
were draped with yellow curtains that were bunched at the side, always open so that the light could
come through in the day. In fifteen minutes his meal of barley soup, western sandwich and strong
tea were brought to him.

by Frank Furlong
After he had eaten, he noticed the sky was completely covered now with clouds.
had been approaching over the mountain when he arrived ir, the village. Now, as he went to the store
for his supplies, he thought that it would begin to snow before he arrived home,
In one store he got everything he needed which was some nails, some plaster, flour for
his wife, and a special treat of peppermint candy which she liked very much, He did this every time
he went into the village and when he returned his wife would be surprised and happy though she knew
he would bring it.
was a very regular thing between them. They
good together, he thought.
She was a good wife and he loved her very much.
The clouds that hung low in the sky were gray and had come from the west.
will be
a big storm, "he thought. It would start before he arrived home and he would have the snow and
the cold then.
Three men had died on the plain one winter when a sudden storm arose. The search
party had found them and brought them back to Tatem in shrouds. The dead bodies were stiffened in
grotesque positions. One was frozen, knees to chest, like a foetus five months in the womb, as if
to try to keep warm.
It would be hard to walk the plain back to the house now but he was strong. He had
walked the land before. He would beat the snow and the cold and he would beat the mountain. The
mountain had sent the snow and he would beat the mountain.
was three in the afternoon when he
left Tatum and began his trek. The temperature had dropped and it had begun to snow very gently.
The ground was hard, and it did not yield to the old man's weight. You could hear the
old man's boots scraping against the ground harshly. And as he walked with long steps, he thought
was like a family sometimes: the land and the wife and he. It was like that in the summer.
He worked the land and the land yielded.
was like a child you had to chide and care for so that it
would be healthy and grow to be strong. Even the mountain shadowed the sun in the early morning
so he could get the hardest work
done in the shade. In the afternoon he would rest away from the
sun. In the evening he would sit and watch the land.
In the winter
changed. And she had been stronger the past few winters and he could
feel her strength and it was like she wanted her freedom.
was like she did not want the old man.
was beginning to snow harder now. He was about three miles from the river and if he looked back
he could see the tracks he left in the snow. But he looked ahead hoping and waiting for the house and
he knew he must get there soon before
snowed harder. The light was going and now a wind began
to blow.
The wind blew from the west and it seemed to hold the old man.
pushed him and it
the snow and he could not see very far now. He thought that he might stray off the road
and then he would be lost. He dropped the sachel and stopped and looked about himself.
was dark and the snow was coming hard now, and he thought of going back to the town.
He could stay the night and start again in the morning but he couldn't do that because he would be
stranded in town and would not be able to return for a few days. His wife would worry.
He did not want to do that also because of the land and the challenge. He was still strong.
He had much strength in his arms and legs to get himself home. He was six miles into the plain now,
As he continued, so did the storm, The wind increased and it did not seem to come from
any direction now.
came to him and around him. It fought against him. Around his feet the snow
was deeper and the farther he walked the high«r he had to step to pick his feet free of the snow.
was almost to the top of his boots now.
He bowed his head into the wind now so that the snow would not get inside the coat at the
collar. He was going slower.
was blowing very hard and as the man thought he began to feel the
He did not feel the cold on his face which was exposed because the years on the plain
made the nervesvery tolerant to the biting wind. He felt the cold around his feet and his hands,
crept us his ankles and his wrists. That was the way the cold worked,
had always come cold off the plain in the winter. He would arrive at the house and it
would be warm. There would be a fire burning and his wife would say:
must have been a hard
day and very cold; warm yourself by the fire." He would go to the fire and stand there rubbing his
hands together, He would put on dry, wool socks. He would get warm slowly.
was very much
like being cold, but different too.
As he walked he thought he must be near the house if he had been walking in the correct
direction, He squinted into the wind and searched for the house and the lights that would be coming

by Frank Furlong
from its window;;. He guessed he was fourteen or fifteen miles into the plain but there were no
His arms were numb and he had no feeling in the hand that held the sachel. It was
frozen in that position. He could not move it. His other hand he had put in the pocket of his coat
and it was a little better. His feet were heavy and the boots were a burden because of their weight.
He was beginning to wish that the wind would stop and the wind would stop, He felt like
crying to them to stop and just let him be bery warm. But the snow only fell harder and the wind
still blew.
He saw a light to the south now.
that was the house he must have strayed to the
north during the wind. He did not see the light anymore, and wondered whether he had actually seen
it. He would be taking a chance of being hopelessly lost if he went in the direction of the light, but
he decided to take the chance.
He saw the light again and he knew it was the house now and it was less than a quarter
of a mile away. He was tired now but his pace quickened as he got nearer the house.
When he reached the door he was not able to use his hands to open the latch so he butted
the door with his shoulder. His wife heard the noise and opened the door quickly and helped him to
the fire where she helped him with his frozen clothes.
The old man went to sleep quickly and when he awoke the next morning he moved about
slowly, not talking. He would look out the window and see the cold whiteness drifting in the plain,
the distance was the mountain tall and strong against the blue sky. And tbc! old man thought that
he was old and he felt tired. He did not escape from the storm for there was a severe limp now in
his left leg and his right hand was weak.
He would not fight the land anymore, and after he had stood at the window he went to sit
and the fireplace and sat thinking about the fire and its warmth and the storm outside.

- - -Guy Tillson
The sun is hidden
Behind the clouds.
I did not
See you smile today.
Swiftly the waters
Carry the fallen petals
As time steals my years.

charles washington johnson
{or as his mama called him
"charlie-boy ")
the cracked concrete sidewalk
on black sneaker feet
and corduroy legs
with his hands
in his pockets
and his chocolate-brown face
half buried in the wool neck
of his jacket
which was why
he saw
it was a
ground into a
mud slit
between the
sidewalk slabs
his radar eyes
peeped about
when he was certain-sure
no one
was watching
his hands walked right out
of his pockets
and sc
ped up

the sun shone
the sky was
charlie -boy had a
char lie
skipped/ bounced
past an old man
ragged and unshaved
sunk in a rotted wood-framed
and held up his
the old man peered at
char lie
and nodded
charlie had a
skipped/ bounced
n the street
it grew late and
street lights
mercuried the sidewalks
from nowhere
he saw it
a chrome-trimmed
a beautiful
candy machine
into which
charlie d
d his DIME

it made a
as the machine
charlie 's DIME
which finally came to rest
in the machine's
aluminum intestines
charlie reached up
and caught the
bright red handle
but the machine
with a grin of its gaping
into an outstretched hand
was late so
charles washington johnson
{or as his mama called him
"charlie-boy ")
with his hands
in his pockets
and his chocolate-brown face
half buried in the wool neck
of his jacket
d home
cliff melick

by Richard William Gorman
"Well, where in the name of Heaven would you be going?" Nowhere! Mrs. McClinton.
"Oh yes, you '11 be telling your mother that, but I know better I do.
"Went and
slammed the door he did. "
Come on Lost, here fella. I'll bet you think I look like a guy who is going to run away.
Do you know why I look like this? Because I am running away. I'm getting the hell away from
the old lady, old man and this louswblock. Yep, momma's little blond haired, blue-eyed mis-
take is making tracks now. And he's not coming back. I've been waiting for this day since my
seventeenth birthday -
come here! Ah huh, the only thing I wanted for my seventeenth birth-
day was to be eighteen so I could split -
legally, that is, and all I got was you to take care of
for a year, you screwy mutt. But now it's the right time. My birthday present has arrived and
baby I'm leaving the Square for good.
I'll bet you're looking at my hair. You like it? The hell you do. Hell
anybody does.
In history class old bat Mrs. Dale used to pretend she didn't notice anything different about my
strands than anybody else's. But she did. Everyday without saying a word she'd think to her-
self that I looked like a horse's ass. I know she did. And more than that Lost, she'd call on me
knowing that more than half the time, I didn't know what the answer was. ("Mr. Barron, Mr_
Barron, what was the date of"). Oh God, she pissed me off. But how would you know? You
didn't have to sit in that stinkin' class.
This is Getty Square. It's the shopping area. And all these people you see, they are
just visiting. Yeah, that's right, and not like to see friends. They come down here to shop, so
that they can fill their fat faces when they get home. A d here's Bickford's Cafeteria where all
the bums hang out. I mean pass out. Did they ever kick you around? Like this lousy place is
their home. Just look at them Lost, they're lying around with their bottom lips hanging down,,,
looking real stupid and sick. They look like you.
Oh Lost I', going to hitch out of here. Yea
that's right, close your mouth and listen with those floppy ears of yours. I'm breaking free you
know that; away from my mother, excuse me Lost, our mother (the bottle) and pops who gets
fired more than that lousy oven we have. Oh yea it's funny. You think it's funny Lost? I don't.
Close your mouth so you don't look like you 're laughin' at me.
Ah what do you care. You just a
dumb dog anyway.
You can't piss there. Get, get'• Oh what the hell youcan get away with it. I'll bet you
don't much give a
damn .
Piss when you want and you don't need to jump behind a door to do it.
Sleep or roam all day too,
you feel like it. Huh, Lost, huh? You got it made.
"Hey, Teddy, are you really going to skate?"
Shut the hell up, willya
"Oh, don't get all hot about it man.
They are gonna know about it by the time suppa comes around. McClinton will spill
for sure.'' They won't give a damn either way.
"It ain't all that bad, Teddy, is it?"
Hang in there, Joe, don't worry about a thing, Lost!
"Hey, Teddy, don't let any of those queer babies pick you up."
Come on, Lost, come on. That Joe is a good guy but he's got· a big mouth, so the faster
we walk the better off I '11 be. He could pop up again anywhere screaming about everything that can
get a guy in trouble. I should have told him to say "good-bye" to the guys for me. Ah, what the
hell, he will anyway, but I feel shitty about not saying it myself.
"Hey, Ted, hey, Teddy, wait up man. Teddy, get this goddamn mutt down. He
11 dirty up
my pants."
Shut up, I should get you ;away from him.
"What are you walkin' so fast for? Oh, that's right, you just told me, the trip."
Joe, say Good bye to the guys for me.
"You know Ted, you kill me. That's why I ran after you, Buddy, to ask about that."
I'm hip, Joe, thanks a hell of a lot.
"Well, anyway, Good luck, huh Ted."
You know it Joe, you know it.

by Richard William Gorman
Now, Lost, if we can just get past Simons, without catching a mouthful of his crap.
"Well, if
it isn't the Barron. I've got something for you."
Excuse me, Lost, while I turn around. I don't reme
mber seeing any silk-dudded
royalty, did you
"Don't get smart, Teddy, don't get smart. Your old lady called."
Watch your mouth.
"Your old lady called and she wants you to bring home some groceries. I h
ve the stuff
made up, and tell her I want the money by the end of the week; not next week and not when you old
man gets a joh. I want it before I die •••• Not even Lost is getting any more credit."
Get him, fella!
"I'll call the cops you little s.o.b.
Alright, come on out. Lost, Lost,
They'll put him away for sure.
come here. You '11 have to bring the package your-
self. I won't be going home tonight.
"Barron, you've got a case, if you think •••••••••
No I don't, Mr. Simon, you do. I said I'm not going home now. So long, Mr. Simon.
And where the hell are you going with that suitcase? "
You know, Lost, he once kicked me in the ass just for
you think about that? You don't. Well, that's good then, boy.
place to catch a ride. Go, fella! Go, Lost, Go away!
cop pin' a box of candy. What do
It's time. I guess this is the best
Let's see, there's three cars by the light. One of them should stop. I'll give them a big
smile. Lost, go away, will yah '•
Come on, give a guy a break. Yea, you too, you crumbs, So
what's three cars? Right, Lost? Lost. (It's gotta be this way).
"How long have you been standing here, young man?
Too long, Mister. Oh, no. Oh, God, get, get out of here.
"Is that your dog? "
Hell, no!
"I'm not taking any dogs in the car. "
There, head toward the Thruway. I mean, are you heading
toward the Thruway, Mister?
"Yes, and I think that dog is too. The fool thing will get itself killed running in traffic.
Drive a little faster, O.K.? Drive a little faster, please. (I've gotta do it.)
"Young fella, I can drive."
I meant, so you wouldn't hit him.
"I am driving to Albany, now, son. But I know you're not going all that distance •
you're probably going to a friend's house. Of course, that doesn't make me out to be a very good
guesser. Why would anyone be starting out for Albany this time of the ,-tevening?
(The old man is real jolly.
If I tell him I'll take the ride to Albany the shock will p;,-"Jbably
kill him.)
"Well, what is it going to be, young fella?" I am going to a friend's house. You can •••••
"What did I tell you? That's just fine, son. Oh, excuse me for
interrupting you."
Right by the Thruway is good. My friend lives by, eh, Tuckahoe Road.
"Fine. You know I always thought dogs had more sense. Why, that animal was running
like someone had shot him in the rear or something. As I said before, that fool thing will ••••••
Right here is perfect! Right here by this candy store will be great. Thanks.
"Well, that's o. k. with me. What about your suitcase? How long are you staying at his
house] This thing is heavy.
A week, eh ••• a week, I guess.
My mother, she's real sick.
"Oh, oh well, then take
easily. "
Yeah, sure.
(I'll get a poster and make a sign. It's dark, I need a sign. Store's closing. I'd better
"Can I help you?
I want a poster and a magic marker.
"Surely. I '11 get the poster and you can pick out whatever color marker you'd like from

the display counter over there to your right, "
Yeah, I see it,
by Richard William Gorman
"Are you making a sign for hitching back to college or something? "
(What's going on? Everybody wants to know everything, And they think they know the answere
anyway.) Yeah, that's right. I go to school in Buffalo,
"What school?"
Strutlege College of, ••• eh •••• fine arts.
"I never heard of it, Is it a big school?"
Yeah, how much do I owe you?
"Sixty-three cents. Twenty five for the ••••
"Good-bye now,"
(I hope this lousy poster idea works out, or I'll be hurting, That's funny--me a college
kid. Huh, that's close, The closest I ever came to college was that time I went snooping around
Elizabeth Seton that night with the guys looking for some grins, Snobs, they're all snobs anyway,
It wasn't worth the grief, I wonder
this dude in this sports car will stop. •• Alright, good man,)
"I am going as far as New Paltz, that's the best I can do, "
That's all right with me, Buddy, I'm going a hell of a lot further thanthat.
"Yes, I see, Buffalo, You go to school up there? rnPut your suitcase in the trunk, here's
the key,''
{Why should I lie to this guy, He's about my age and he'll know I ain't in college,, And
besides, I am me whether he likes it ar
Yeah, I don't go to school. I mean No, I don't go to school, do you?
"I go to school in New Paltz --- New Paltz State University. Excuse me, Ticket {iease !
Thank you, Well, as I was saying, I'm studying to be a teacher there,
The name's John; what's
Teddy, I just quit working and I'm cutting out of here,
,.By way of thumb and all, "
You hit it, and the farther the better.
"I take it you don't care for this area too mueh,
Nope, I just want to get away on my own, nab me a job ••• live a little, you know?
"That sounds funny to me. Because I've got my own apartment and to be honest, there's
no cooking like home cooliing, or living too for that matter, Keeping_ house is a lot of work.
Yeah, I know, but it couldn't be any worse than it is now, goddamn it, And who said any-
thing a-bout an apartment,
"Well, where will you live then?
Say, how much do you pay for this thing? (Poppy baby probably bought it for him for his
birthday so that he wouldn't have to walk to school on cold mornings.)
"I take it, you mean the car, Well, it cost me
one. whole summer's work.
But with the insurance it was darn near a thousand. So I saved up all vacation and here it is. Do
you like sports cars?
(I'm a winner. I almost had him figured out, Ah, so what?)
What? Ah, not that much. Thi$ guy 'round my way has a G.T.O. Now that's the kind of
car I like the best. These things are too small and besides the pick up isn't good enoqgh.
"WeU, I like it. Sports cars handle better and they're economical to boot, Tell me somie-
thing, what are you going to do for a place to sleep tonight?
(Hey, Teddy, watch out for those queer babies!) Oh, God.
"What was that?"
I'm saying that I think 1
m just going to hitch through the night. I want to get as far as
possible tonight. Tonights possible
it, •••
you want to sleep, at least sit back a little. If I had to stop short, you'd be riding
out on the hood. "
You 're right, thanks,
"You know you can stay with me
you'd like, I've got an extra cot, You 're welcome if
you don't mind a little light and the clicking of my old typewriter.

by Richard William Gorman
"Fine then
Wait, I mean no, But yeah, you said you wanted to be a teacher, What the hell do you
want to be a teacher for? You '11 wind up spending your whole life in school if you do that, Hell,
I couldn't go that route for anything, Hey, watch out for the truck!
"I once thought it was a sick profession, but after having gone through ~hree years of
college, I've had my change of heart,
What makes you think you'll be a good teacher/ The teachers I had didn't know "ding"
about the kids, Everything was the lesson, the golden lesson,
"I know what you mean, but I'm going to take an interest i
n the students as people. I
hope I can be able to help them out in some small way; in more ways than one,
Oh, man, that sounds real to me, My guidance councellor talked like that,
"Did you like him? "
He's dead, Yeah, he got in a bad car accident, Made me feel bad, lost in a way, He'd
never yell or scream at you, He'd just talk about things and let me talk to him.
"Then you did like him a lot, "
That's right, I liked him. He was hip, you know,
(Teddy, go all the way if you 're going toward something,
If you 're going out to work,
work hard at it, You
'11 be better for it,)
Mr. Hurst was his name,
"What school was this?
Yonkers High, What's the word, how far is it to New Paltz?
"Why don "t you sleep a while? "
How far is it?
"It's a two hour drive, Let's see, look at the time marked on that ticket, Not there, on
the back, to the left, to the left, "
Yeah, we took off at
"Well, it's about
11:30 n0w, We should be at New Paltz in an hour or so,
That's good, !want eats.
(I want something to fill me up for late, •• "well, where the hell are you going now. You're
always going out, Comb your crummy head, Why don't you stay home, with your father and me,"
"That's a laugh. Quit yelling at the kid, he's gotta get the hell out or else he '11 be come a sissy or
"What do you know anyway? You 're always •••• ")
"Excuse me, do you want something to eat? Or would you rather sleep in the car for a
What the hell is going on? What the •••• We're here now?
"That's right. Are you going to grab a bite?"
Yeah, sure. ls this the place?
"This is it,"
It's a real small town, that is, if this is the town, There's nothing to it.
"What did you expect, New York or Chicago?
"We can sit in a booth, it's a lot more comfortable,
Do they have
"Not in this place; look around
It's not a hole in the wall, but it's not the Copa either,
You have money, don't you?
Hell, yeah, and I didn't ask for all that. I just wanted to know if the prices were high,
that's all,
"All right, I didn't mean to offend you, I'll have two burgers, Tony, with fried onions and a.n
an order of home fries, No! Not coffee, I'll have a coke instead, thanks,
"And what about your eh, your friend?
You can give me ste
that is, if you have it in this place,
"Ted, what's up?"
Don't try and act cool about it, You know what I'm talking about. He looked at me like
I'm a kind of bum or something. I don't go for that shit.
"Tony's a nice guy, I don't think, •••
No nobody thinks anything, do they? What the hell does he think he is looking like that?

A stinking little store and right away he's cool.
"Take it easy, all right, please?"
Sure, I'll take it easy.
"Listen it's not worth it to get so angry as that. You shouldn't let anything like this
trouble you.'1
Thanks for the ride, I'll go eat somewhere else.
"Well, hold on a second.
"Where did he go? I've got the steak he didn't think I had on the grill. I figured the
grimy guy for a bolter. You said he was a friend of yours, John. You're not serious."
"I picked him up in Yonkers on the way back from seeing my cousin. He's running
away from home, for good he claims. I think he's really an o. k. kid though. He has parent and
neighborhood problems. I wish there v,_rere a way to reach him. Something inside is ••••
"Ah, come on. Loads of kids have those problems. What makes him so different?
You're letting that teaching bit run away with you. Well, the hell with him, I've got some orders
to fill. What'll you have?"
cold. "
"Well, take care, Tony; see you soon.
"Sure thing, John; don't bring me any more bolters.
"Don't rub it in, Tony. So long. "
Psst, psst, I need the suitcase. Just give it to me, will yah? and I'll get out of your way.
"I'll give it to you, but I still think you ought to stay somewhere and sleep. It's getting
I don't have enough money for that. And, even if I did, they probably wouldn't give me a
room, me looking like this and all.
{Don't sweat it; he don't care.)
"I said before you could stay at my place. I'll be up writing for a while. But a little noise
is better than this cold air and wind."
{He's giving me a line. I think I'll call his bluff. I'm beat to hell.)
"Here's your suitcase. All I can say is 'good luck. "'
How far is it from the Thruway?
"What, the room? Just a mile.
I guess I'll go with you then;
.T can leave for Buffalo in the morning.
''Then give me that and let's go."
I'll ride with it. You said it wasn't far from here.
"No, just down the road. "
"We'd better be quiet about this. The landlord's a real nice guy and I don't want to dis-
tu.L·o him.
I wasn't thinking about singing anys.engs. What do you pay to live in a µ.ace like this?
"Oh, it's not such a great place actually.
Come on, what do you pay to live in here?
"About ninety-five dollars a month. My father pays half, though, because I only have
a part-time job and I couldn't afford to pay for it all myself.
{The old man pays; that's something. Yeah, but he ain't a bad guy.)
This ain't bad really. I lik~ it. I'd dig living here. Up these stairs, too?
''No, this is it here. Before I got this apartment, I had visions of having a little cubby
hole of a room ten flights up; with an alcove and •••• "
Huh, what?
"I meant, I'm glad there aren't too many stairs to climb. I hope you don't mind sleeping
by the window,. it's a little draughty."
I don't care much. I just want to catch some Z
s and then get moving.
"Excuse me while I get some coffee.
Are you really going to sit up and do work now?
"Yes, but it's o. k., I won't have to be up too long. You want some coffee?
Nah, no thanks. Say, where's the cot?
"In the closet on your right by the john.

Oh yeah, ••• this is a cot?
"Ha, ha, it's an army job; my father lent
to me. He got it from the army."
My old man was in the army, but he got thrown out for going Awale all the time.
"you mean AWOL. I'll be right there."
"You sure you don't want some? Have a sip;
will warm you up."
No, I don't want any. You have to do homework and stuff like that now, dcn't you?
"That's not so good, what you said about your father. Did he have a hard time getting
a job? It's a shame. Is that why you left •••• "
thing up.
Knock it off. I asked you a question, didn't I?
"I was just talking about it because I thought you wanted to
ttalk about it to someone.
Well, I don't. You're sounding like a priest all of a sudden.
"I'm sorry."
"In answer to your question before, I am going to stay up a while and try to finish this
What thing?
"Oh, I'm just writing a short story about this novice •••• "
"About this young guide who goes off on a wild journey into the North Woods.
And shoots himself with his own gun?
"No, no. You see, his father was a very well known guide in that same area for many
years, and when he died, Vic was just a young boy."
How young was he? I had a friend whose father died when he was seven •••• Yeah, I
still remember that.
"Wait a minute. Don't you want to know the rest? ••• Well, when Vic got older, he de-
cided that he was going to make a trip across the upper North Woods into Canada about the same
time his father had tried to do it years before. Unfortunately, though,
was right about this time;
in the middle of winter. "
Why would he want to do it just because his old man did it?
"Because he had to prove something to himself."
And what was, and what was ••••
"Why don't you go to sleep?"
What did he have to prove already?
"Oh, just that he was a man.
Ha, couldn't people tell by looking at him? What was he, a sissy or something? My
friend Joe hates those guys.
"Don't be funny about it. This sort of thing happens with a lot of kids. It's something
to talk about. "
(It happens with loads of kids. What's so special about him?) What are you bugged about?
"Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking about something. Are you really going to Buffalo
Yeah, I'm really going, why not? Ah, what hai:pens to Vince or Vic or whatever his µame
is when he tries to make it?
"Everyone tried to wain him not to go off.
This went on for a while 'til he bolted off one
day in a rage; without all the things he needed. One of those things was a compass.
Ah, give him a compass.
"So now Vic's in the niidst of a snow storm and ••• "
So what do you call it?
What's the story called?
"The Lost One."
Oh, yeah, well.
"Something bothering you now?"
I'm sleeping.
("I wish I could stop him from going away. He's not going to get anywhere running like
this. I just wish I could. • •• I can. ")
You 're a bastard. I knew I shouldn't have trusted you. GET up. GET up! Where did

you put it?
"God al mighty, I didn't ..•. "
So you did do ••• you took my goddamn wallet,
"No, you're wrong, Ted, I'm no thief, believe me, Listen, take it easy,
you wait
around here a couple ••••
Don't give me that shit. I want it. If I don't have it, I won't be able to get any farther
than this crummy place. You bastard.
"Go ahead, I wouldn't put it in there ••• I hope you find it. Really, I don't have it. Ah,
ah, what's so bad about going back anyway?"
Sure, that's great. You
e sti..:dying to teach. You'd love it, wouldn't you?
m sorry you feel this way, really I am. I was
_good enough to you. Gave you a lift,
and a room to sleep ••• look, if you want me to lend ••• "
Never mind, goddamn it. I'm so stupid, I could even have dropped it maybe. This screws
the whole deal. Hey! Can I get me a place to work here?
"Gee, I couldn't tell you. Maybe ••• "
Maybe, my ass. I'm gonna split.
I go back, my old man is gonna blow a fuse. Oh hell.
you took it, I'll •••
"Ted, I wouldn't do it.
you want a lift back I guess I could cut some classes. I really
Give me a lift to the Thruway and don't talk anymore.
"Ted, "
Forget it.
Just let me off and forget it.
Pds bombs the whole ••• )
This is good enough,
I don't need this crap.
"Wait, I'll turn around here, it will be easier for you.
Good bye!
"Take care, all right? "
Hah! Take care •••
(I'm glad he didn't find it no matter how he feels. It's safe.)
"Good evening, Mr. Griffin,
"Hello, John? What was all the noise about this morning?
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Griffin.
"Don!t be sorry. I was down in the basement, but it sounded somewhat noisy,
"What can I say?
"How were classes today?"
"Fine, just fine. I'll see you later, huh, Mr. Griffin."
"Sure thing, John ••• Listen, I'll be up to fix that floor in the morning,
Allright by you? Well, he '11 be surprised then,
(I wonder what he's doing now. I hope he made it back. I'll bet I didn't do the right thing.
Ah, it's probably going to be all right. He '11 get back and his family will be glad to see him. Yon
kers isn't that far. He made· it there for sure •• if he went there. He's pr bablv in his house now
or something, catching a good lecture. No, that couldn't happen. His parents are probably crude.
He's getting a good beating. Oh, no! ••• It's o.k. That's o.k. He will learn that they really want
him. No, it won't be like that. He '11 just lie, Right. He
11 lie and tell them he stayed somewhere
for a while, I've heard of that before. It's not untenable. as Professor Durkin always says. It's
within the realm of possibility. Right. That's right. I'll be thanked for it someday. Some day real
soon he '11 come
by and thank me. I wanted to help him, and I did. It was the
only way for me to help
him and he will be reimbursed. I will wait a couple of days and send it to him with a lengthy expla-
nation. Ouch, that's right, burn yourself, john ••• He must have beenstarving, He didn't even take
some coffee last night, but he will not starve---he 's not in the North Woods or anything, I'll go to
bed and forget about it, what the heck. I can finish the story tomorrow after class, and ah, it's
alright ••• what the heck. I can send him the wallet tomorrow. Tonight I'll leave it where it is •••
it's safe.)

"Mr, Griffin, how's everything going?"
"One of your friends must have left it behind,
it was the guy you were yipi:;en to, may-
be when he comes back for it, you can holler some more, We need to have some excite, •• "
"Give it to me! A friend lost it."
"John, that's what I said, It was in the break in the floor, by your desk, Maybe you
didn't want that fixed,."
"I'm sorry, Mr, Griffin, for snapping, Had a tough day, I'll take care of this,. Thanks,
Well, see you later, I've some writing to be done,., to do,
"Boy! Alright, who'd be calling me now?
"Hello, John, you nasty boy!
"Who the heck is this?
"That's nice, That's very nice, She aske
d you to call her back and you didnU, And now
when you have a chance to apologize, you don't, Well, that's big, I say real big of you~
"Carl, Carl, you 're a pisser, You sounded like a girl, or a reasonable fasciniile at any
"Remember, John, my mother asked you to call when you got back to New Paltz? That wa
two nights ago, you naughty boy,
"Knock it off, Carl, Tell my aunt, your mother, that I'm sorry, But I had a bit of an
"Oh, got a little?"
"Carl, listen, I'm not kidding now buddy,
"Okay, lay it to me brother,
"I picked up this kid who was hitching by the Thruway entrance."
"I'm listening John,
"He le1oked a little tough; long dirty brown hair and all, but honest you know?"
"To you anybody, well almost every.,.
"Carl, so anyway I gave him a lift, and he was tired. So I asked him if he wanted to stay
"Oh great!
In Jerusalem, or whatever town it was, there was no room at the inn, But yoq
John, have room, •• right? I'm sorry, John, go ahead,
"We stopped to have a bite and he ran out."
"Hey ma, so the kid bolted. Ha, ha."
"Don't be so damn quick, wise guy.
"Who? He had a friend?
Tony was the guy who owns the diner in town here. Tony looked at him funny and
Teddy got insulted, So he bolted out.
"Wait a second, John. Ma, get off the extension.
"What's up?"
"Skip it, John. Go ahead, we 're running up a bill.
"He'd forgotten his suitcase."
"Case, what case?"
"Teddy's suitcase, Carl!"
"Oh, okay, go ahead."
"Well, for brevity's sake, he came back with me to the room.
"John, excuse me. I'll let you finish in a second. My mother swears that there is a
chance that
is the same kid, Ma, will you get off the phone now? I'll tell you what he says."
"What do you mean?
"She wants me to ask you if this guy Teddy - your roomie the other night, went south
when he left?" "Hello, John, Carl's his usual smartalec self tonight, It's not as involved as he
says. I just made a comment about a coincidence."
"What coinc ••• go on, finish.;,
"John, you sound interested, Why it's just that this young bot from Pier
Street was
killed, or was found dead at any rate in the river this morning, face down. It 'lflaS really horrible,
"Give me the phone, Ma, John,.,"
"Carl, finish, Finish what you were saying,
"Okay, hold on buddy, Take it light. This kid was found dead in the river, Gleason was,!'
"Who the hell is Gleason?"

"He's a middle-aged sentimentalist, who writes editorials. He said that there was a
witness, who saw this guy running towards the river, yelling after a dog or something.
crazy, I know.
Well anyway, you know it was a real blizzard we were having down here. He just
ran into the river somehow."
"Yeah, it's sad, but ••• well they found his suitcase and all. He must have dropµ!d it to
run or something."
"Oh my Jesus Christ:"
"John, John ••• He hung up.' "
was cold, and it was dark, and Vic could not have noticed,
what lay just ahead. He was desparately trying to stick close
by the river in order to maintain a sense of direction. But
the snow had been a white blind •
• • • The footprints were close together in the deep, soft snow.
But a print could not bave been made, beyond the shagged cliff
that left not a trace of what had splashed into the thick, dark
river below.


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