Gee, I like this school!
Where else can I hack into their network and not be in trouble?
But what's with Mr. Peterson?

I would like to thank my dear friends,
Angel O’Hare, Karen Page, Joni W. and Holly Logan
for their kindness, help, support, and input.

Education in the Hills
Chapter 5

By Penny Reed Cardon

The next morning I was only slightly surprised to find that most of year A had slept in. In fact, the few that were in the lounge were the ones that left the ball with Mary Beth and I. We chatted for a little while, before going to breakfast, just to see if anyone else had recharged enough to crawl out of bed. As we walked, I told Mary Beth about my conversation with Kimberley, the night before. I guess I was moaning about everyone treating me as if I'm something special.

"But you are special, my friend," she smiled, and then she hugged me. "And the sooner you stop fighting with yourself and accept that fact, the sooner you'll be happy with yourself and the sooner you'll be able to enjoy everything life has to offer."

"Mary Beth, that's very profound. I've never heard you say anything with such deep meaning."

Mary Beth giggled before she responded, "I heard it some place, probably something I was watching on PBS."

I looked at her in surprise, then I started laughing, "Mary Beth, I’m surprised at you! I didn’t know you watched the educational TV programs on the Public Broadcasting channels." She shrugged her shoulders and smiled at me.

I smiled back, "Come on, let’s get our breakfast." We hugged each other for another few seconds before we continued, giggling as we went.

As we approached the cafeteria, we could hear Mr. Peterson, saying something in French. However, when he noticed us he greeted us in English, "Good morning Mary Beth, you seem to be feeling better this morning. When is your next appointment with Dr. Harris?"

"I, ... I don't know … no one has told me anything about an appointment," Mary Beth sputtered, surprised by the question.

"Really?" Mr. Peterson appeared to be genuinely surprised. "I'll have a talk with him. You've been doing a lot of walking since you've arrived. I want to make sure we're not making your injury worse or increasing your recovery time." He paused for a moment, entering something into his PDA, before continuing. "And how's our Munchkin this morning?"

I giggled as I replied, "I'm doing very well this morning. At least I don’t have to run and hide every time something surprises me.”

Mr. Peterson chuckled in agreement, “I’m sure that is a relief to you. Still, you should practice from time to time; you never know when you’ll need to play the part of a Munchkin. Anyway, I'm pleased that the two of you decided to join us this morning. We're dispensing with our customary seating arrangements this morning; please take a seat at either of the first two tables."

I’m not sure what surprised me more; Mr. Peterson's comment about playing the part of a Munchkin, or the overall lack of attendance by the other years. There weren’t enough students to fill two tables, to say nothing of our usual six.

Mary Beth and I quickly got our breakfast. Yes, I chose some of the Bat Wing Surprise, left over from last nights buffet, along with some scrambled eggs and then I smothered everything with some country gravy.

After we took our seats, Mr. Peterson stood to make an announcement, "Greetings everyone, I'm pleased to see each of you this morning, although I'm disappointed in how few our numbers are. When I was a young Boy Scout, attending summer camp, they used to give out awards for just about everything. One of those was an award to those who were willing to get up before the crack of dawn, after staying up late the night before, and jump into what seemed to be a freezing lake. As you know, we don't give out awards or trophies in the physical sense, but so few of you made the effort to be here this morning that I feel you deserve something special. Therefore, this group will be the planning committee for the schools next field trip."

This announcement caused a momentary silence, followed be a barrage of excited questions.

"Hold on, hold on, let me explain," Mr. Peterson continued, with a chuckle. "First, I'm not talking about the upcoming trip to Quebec and Toronto; it will be the trip after that. Second, I don't know where we will be going, that will be decided after we return from Toronto. Third, what you will be planning will be the activities not related to travel plans or the concert itself. You’ll be at liberty to decide where we will eat, what sights we’ll see along the way, and any other social events that would be appropriate for a school of our high caliber. Once the location has been decided on, I'll send word to each of you so you'll be able to research the possibilities. I'll arrange a meeting, several weeks later, so we can get together and discuss the options. It should make the next field trip a little more exciting and meaningful for each of you. Enjoy your breakfast and have a good day."

Mr. Peterson sat down, but he didn't start eating right away. He spent several minutes looking around and entering data into his PDA, I assumed it was the names of everyone in attendance.

After breakfast, we had about forty-five minutes before our first French lesson. "Well Mary Beth, according to the schedule on our PDA's, we'll be in the same classroom where Miss Baker taught me to speak like a girl. Now, ten weeks later, I get to learn to speak 'Girl' in French."

We both giggled before Mary Beth asked, "So where is this classroom?"

"It's two flights up, down the hall and around the corner. Of course, if you make a wrong turn you would end up in the third floor boy’s bathroom."

"Well, I have no desire to see the inside of the boy’s bathroom, so make sure we don't make any wrong turns."

"Okay," I giggled, "no surprises. Do you want to go back to the lounge to wait or do you want to hang around here?"

"You know, right now I'm feeling pretty good, but by tonight I'm sure I'll be completely worn out again. There's no sense in speeding up that process by walking back and forth for no reason, let's wait here."

"Great! That means we can visit with Beca, Lizzy and the other girls. I wonder how many of the older year students are going to sleep in this morning?"

We moved to Beca's table to wait, that is if I remembered correctly. After all, there are ten small tables besides the six large tables. We talked for a while, mostly about the ball last night and the conversation we didn't have with Mr. Peterson yesterday, it felt weird to talk about something that happened, as though it didn't. We also talked about what Mr. Peterson said this morning, about staying in practice, neither one of us could figure out what he meant by that but knew it must somehow be important. Sometime during our talk I told Mary Beth what I found when I search the schools network for munchkin, and the reference to someone named Sally.

As the other students started entering the cafeteria we changed our conversation, talking about our upcoming French class.

I saw Beca and Lizzy come in the main entrance, along with Frank, Angel, Kimberley and Kate. We waved at them but they didn't seem to notice us. As they emerged from the serving area, I stood up to greet them.

"Munchkin, Mary Beth, what are you two doing here?" Beca surprisingly asked, as she set down her tray and got out her PDA.

"We have some extra time before our French class and thought we'd visit for a few minutes," Mary Beth explained.

"Does Ellen know that you two are here?" Kimberley asked, as she approached the table.

"Not yet!" Beca answered. "I'm sending her a note now."

"Beca, is there a problem with us being here?" I asked bluntly.

"A problem? ... Umm ... No, no problem. We just need to make some last minute ... Um, changes in the ah, seating arrangements, so you have a place to sit, while you’re here and we visit," Beca was trying to explain, while stepping all over her tongue.

"Beca, Kimberley, something is going on, you're all acting stranger than normal. So tell me, what's up," I insisted.

"Nothing going on, just arranging for someone to sit someplace else," Lizzy added.

"Oh, you've some other students assigned to your table?" Mary Beth asked.

"No, no new Students," Frank replied.

"The school has recruited several new psychiatrists and counselors. One of them usually sits with us," Angel added.

"With you here there isn't room for someone else," Kate offered.

"So why does Ellen need to know?" I queried suspiciously, ’I've heard fast double talk before and I knew that I was getting an overload of double talk.’

All my instincts were telling me that something was going on. For some reason my friends were tap-dancing around the issue with all the delicacy of a sumo wrestler at a child’s tea party. ‘This puzzle has just gotten bigger, with no new pieces.’

"Well ... because she schedules who sits at which table," Lizzy said, after a moments thought.

I pulled Beca aside, asking in a whisper, "Beca, what's going on? You might as well tell me. You know I'll figure it out sooner or later."

"Matilda, this is something you shouldn't look for, but later would be better, much, much later," she whispered. Beca then went back to the table and sat down. Reluctantly I joined her, still wondering what was going on.

Until it was time to go to class, the eight of us enjoyed learning more about each other. All the other girls wanted to know more about Mary Beth. It was here that I discovered that Beca and Lizzy are the year leaders for their year.

At the appointed time, Mary Beth and I bid adieu and headed off to class to learn French, another first.

’Just think; two weeks ago I lived in fear, afraid of Dad, afraid of Bart, and of letting anyone else know about me being Matilda. One week ago, I tried to kill myself because my life was so horrible. I had never thought about learning French or going to another country. I didn't think I would ever know happiness again. Today, I don't have to hide who I am. I am Matilda, and I've never been happier. The only thing I'm afraid of now is getting into trouble for hacking into the schools network. Mary Beth and I are together and I don't have to worry about Dad or Bart. Oh yes, miracles do happen.’

"Good morning girls." We were greeted as we entered the classroom.

"Good morning." We chorused. I giggled as I was thinking about Mary Beth and I. We’re almost as bad as Rachael and I were, sounding like twins. At least we'll never look like twins, with me being so much shorter than she is, sisters possibly, but not twins.

Behind the desk sat a slender young man with red hair and a very nice smile, "Hello, I'm Russell Skow, but you may call me Rusty. You must be Matilda and Mary Beth."

"We must be," I replied with a giggle. "I'm Matilda, and this is Mary Beth. Because you were expecting us, we've obviously stumbled into the right room."

"You're in the right room if you want to learn French."

I winked at Mary Beth, she nodded back. Together we curtsied and replied, "Oui Monsieur." We then sat in adjacent desks, smiling.

"I see you've been holding out on us. I was told you didn't know any French."

"Actually, nobody asked us," Mary Beth told him.

"We only know a few words in French," I confessed. "Last year there was a girl in our class that spoke French. Our teacher thought it would be good for everyone to learn a little."

"So, for about two months we spent about thirty minutes twice a week, learning French," Mary Beth added.

We quickly went over what we remembered from third grade, along with what we'd picked up from singing Christmas Carols in French.

"Well girls, that's a good beginning. Normally we spend six months teaching a foreign language. What the three of us need to accomplish is the same level of knowledge in six weeks. To accomplish this, you're both going to be a teacher to each other, as well as students. I know that sounds a little backwards but let me explain what I mean. You'll spend two and a half hours in class. The rest of the day I want you quizzing each other, not just on what you've learned that day but everything up to that point, do you understand?"

"Well Mary Beth," I said as I looked at her, "this is a little more than I expected, but I've helped you with your school work for years, so this will be nothing new."

"I'm not sure how good of a teacher I'll be," she confessed, "but I'll do my best."

I gave Mary Beth a little hug to show her that I knew she would be great. "It's agreed, Monsieur."

"Great! If everything goes as planned, in two weeks we should be able to tell Mr. Peterson that you'll be ready to change from all English to predominantly French. Let's get started. First, we'll briefly go over the French alphabet. Most of the letters sound the same ..."

After about ninety minutes, I began to regret not stopping to visit with Mother Nature before class. Twenty minutes later Mary Beth noticed I wasn't paying attention and had started to fidget. Bless her, she's so observant, she suggested taking a break before I had a chance.

After I returned from the restroom and we'd resumed, there was a beep from Mary Beth's PDA. She checked it, then she showed it to me. Her schedule had been changed. She now had an appointment with Dr. Harris at 11:45 today.

After class, we compared schedules and destinations as we went back down to the main floor, "Looks like my appointment with RJ is taking me to the administration building. I should be about thirty minutes according to what he's scheduled."

"That's an easy walk for you, the administration is next door. I have to walk down to the hospital to see Dr. Harris. They have me scheduled with him for two hours."

"What are they going to do with you for two hours?"

"I don't know, but it means I’m going to miss lunch."

"When RJ is finished with me, I'll swing by the cafeteria and pickup something for both of us. Then I'll come over to the hospital and wait for you."

"Sounds like a good plan. Good luck with RJ."

"Thanks, I'll need it. I was hoping you'd be with me, that way he wouldn't yell too loud."

"Oh come on, nobody is going to yell at you. Remember, they knew about your abilities before we came here. So they shouldn't have been surprised by what you did."

"I know but I'm still nervous about meeting RJ."

"You'll be fine. They just want to know how you got in, so they can make the system better."

"I suppose you right, but I'm still a little nervous."

"Come on now, be a brave little munchkin and I'll see you in a couple of hours," Mary Beth giggled as she pointed me towards the door, and gave a gentle push.

I arrived at the administration building and climbed the stairs to the second floor. Before I realized where I was, I found myself knocking on the designated door. Hearing someone call out “Come in,” I slowly opened the door and peeked inside, while trying to disappear into the woodwork at the same time. I vaguely remember hearing laughter.

My normal survival instincts kicked in as I quickly assessed the area. As I glanced around the room I discovered a large rectangular room with a dozen large tables, each had a different computer on it. The entire wall opposite the door was floor to ceiling bookshelves, almost completely filled with books. Along the wall on one end were columns of metal shelves with more computers than I could count in just a glance. At the other end was a large desk with a table on each end, looking like wings. Behind the desk, still laughing gently, was the only person in the room, who I assumed to be RJ.

"So, you're the little cherub that's been making our little, 'Heaven on Earth' so un-heavenly!"

"I beg your pardon," I was completely mystified by his statement.

Still chuckling, "I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist. The way you were peeking in and then trying to hide, reminded me of a character from a book my father used to read, each year at Christmas. Have you ever heard of a book 'The Littlest Angel'?" he asked as he came towards me.

I didn't hear much of anything he said. As he came around the tables crossing the expanse between his desk and where I stood, I was in shock as I stared straight ahead, right at his belt buckle. If I were any smaller, people would probably expect me to still be crawling.

Suddenly, there was a smiling face in front of my eyes, dark blonde hair, blue eyes, behind metal rim glasses, and a red mustache with a goatee. I vaguely remember giggling as I thought, ‘how do you get blonde hair and have a red beard and mustache?’

"I'm sorry if I startled you, little one," he said gently. "My name is Russell Wentworth Jr., but almost everyone calls me RJ."

Well, that ended my giggling and changed my smile into a scowl. I'm sure he saw my expression change as he add, "Have I said something to upset you, little one?"

"My name … is Matilda!" I said, just a little gruffly. "I'll also answer to Munchkin. I know I'm small for my age but, don't call me ‘LITTLE ONE’. After all, I’ve been know to do bad things when I’m upset, and you wouldn’t want me to scramble the schools network."

"I'm sorry Matilda; I didn't mean to say anything to offend you. Please accept my apology. As for the network, I think it’s reasonably safe.” he replied with a warm smile, diffusing my anger.

"Oh … it's not your fault I'm so small. Just as it's not your fault you’re so tall. It’s just that whenever I meet new people, they usually call me that. I really need to work on controlling my anger."

"Well, I for one won't make that mistake again, and to try to make things easier for you, I'll mention it in staff meeting. That way nobody else here will make the same mistake I just did."

"Thank you Mr. Wentworth. I'm sorry I was gruff with you."

"That's all right Matilda, it’s already forgotten. Would you please call me RJ? When people call me 'Mister' it makes me think they’re talking about my father. Well, I guess he isn’t my father anymore. No, that isn’t quite right either; he'll always be my father, he just isn’t sure he wants to be considered a he any more. Was that confusing? It’s confusing to me when I think about it. Anyway, calling me ‘Mister’ makes me feel old."

"Okay, RJ it is, but compared to me, you are old," I giggled.

"And just how old do you think I am?"

’Oh no, I've done it again; I've got to remember to take my foot out of my mouth before I start talking. Now how do I get out of this one?’ "I would guess ... over twenty-five. That would make you more than fifteen years older than I am, so from my point of view, you're old."

"All right, I'll concede this round," he chuckled. "Score one for the Munchkin. Shall we talk about computers for a while? I need to find out if you're as sharp, as everyone says you are. Why don't you take a seat at the table next to my desk? I'd like to talk about what you've been doing with my systems. You haven't been writing any viruses have you?"

"Oh, no sir! I would never do anything like that."

"And why not?"

"Because viruses are bad."

"Are all viruses bad?"

I wasn’t quite sure what he was asking so I didn't respond.

"Can you think of a time when a computer virus was used in a good way?"

I thought for a moment … then shook my head while shrugging my shoulders.

"Well, we’ll discuss that another time. According to my logs, you made quite a few attempts to get through the firewalls into the main server system. You started late Friday, then there was an attempt about every two hours on Saturday, then again one or two attempts yesterday morning at which time you apparently gave up, based on the fact that there were no more attempts logged. Is that pretty much correct?"

"Yes, that's pretty much correct," I replied softly, a little ashamed of myself for taking so long to figure out the system.

"So tell me, after you discovered you couldn't get into the system with your PDA, why didn't you try using a stationary computer?"

’I guess nobody has told him about my confession last night, which means I'll have to do it. Darn, I hate it when I have to tattle on myself.’

"I guess there are a couple of things you should know about me. First, I never give up, at least not when I feel it's important. Second, I didn't give up ... I succeeded in getting in," I all but whispered. Knowing that he would want to see it, I got out my PDA and entered the security code I'd set up, so no one would accidentally find the projects I've been working on. Then I executed the batch file I wrote, so I wouldn't have to go through the entire sequence every time. When the sequence completed and was displaying the list of servers, I handed my PDA to RJ.

RJ examined the screen, his eyebrows raised several inches as he realized what he was looking at. "Well, score ten for the Munchkin. I didn't think this was possible, definitely not with this model PDA. I guess … perhaps our network isn’t as safe as I thought."

"Beca told me that nobody has ever cracked the system with a PDA before."

"Let's just say, nobody has ever cracked the system with a PDA and lived to tell about it."

"What?" I think my eyes grew three inches.

"Just teasing, just teasing. You haven't done anything wrong, just very, very unexpected. This does explain a few things, like the note I got from Gregg Peterson this morning."

"What did Mr. Peterson have to say about me?"

"He said that there was a note addressed to you, along with a link. The link would have been active Saturday night, but had been removed sometime Sunday. He also said that you would be able to help me, in finding the author of the note. I have to admit, I was somewhat confused, until now. Let’s start with the note to you, what did it say and where did you find it?"

I explained about the note, what and where, as well as the events of last night. Which explained why Mr. Peterson is interested. I'm sure he takes offense at someone else using his name.

I used my PDA, because it's what I'm familiar with, while RJ used the computer on his desk. It took about twenty minutes to load the Saturday night backup into the backup servers. After that, it took RJ barely five minutes to determine the author of the note. He sent the information to Mr. Peterson, who responded immediately.

"Well Matilda, you certainly seem to know your way around a computer. I can see I'll need to spend more time with you, as well as more time working on my security," he chuckled. "Where did you learn to penetrate computer security?"

I gave him a brief rundown on my computer experience, including being banned from my previous school’s computers. I went on to explain how the school officials insisted that my parents not have one at home, because I'd been getting in from the outside. I omitted the part about using my friends’ computers. I did tell him about the chat room I used to visit, along with my friend and instructor, hhb303.

He seemed a little shocked, "Did you say hhb303?"

"Yes, that was the log-in ID they used. Do you know who that is?"

"Oh yes! I know her indeed. I'll have to send a note to a colleague of mine, asking her why her students are working outside their country. There is a chance that Julia doesn't know," he ended softly, as if talking to himself.

’Julia, that's a name I haven't heard before. I'll have to remember that one, along with the knowledge that she isn't in this country. More pieces of the puzzle for me to track down and link together.’

Before we adjourned for the day I inquired, "RJ, are you planning to upgrade Mary Beth's and my PDA's to the current model?"

"I was planning to do just that. However, after talking with you today, I've changed my mind. I still want to give Mary Beth a current model, but not you." He paused here, smiling after he saw my expression change. "In about ten days, several prototypes of a new PDA will be arriving for evaluation. If you can wait, I'd like to give you one of those, and have you assist with their evaluation."

"Sure! That works for me," I agreed with a smile, I'm sure my eyes were the size of saucers. "When should Mary Beth come in?"

"Bring her with you tomorrow; we'll take care of her new PDA then."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow RJ."

RJ indicated he would arrange for a longer session next time. I think I was floating as I rushed to the cafeteria to get some lunch for Mary Beth and myself.

’I can't believe what had just happened; I cracked the schools network, and I'm not in trouble. On top of that, RJ wants me to help evaluate the new PDA's. I wonder why he chose me instead of an older student. What was it Aaron and Beca said last night ... oh yes, Aaron said nobody had ever done what I did; nobody has ever cracked the system using a PDA. Beca wondered how I got into the schools network with an out dated PDA. I still don't believe it, I mean, I’m … there can't be anything special about me. Then again, maybe I should listen to everyone.’

I sat for a few minutes with year A, telling them how my appointment with RJ went. They were more interested in knowing who had set them up last night at the banquet, than they were about RJ asking me to help him. I explained to them that Mr. Peterson had requested that I not say anything. As Mr. Peterson had put it in his note back to RJ, everything would be revealed in due course. While I was there, I arranged for Rachael's afternoon visitors. Then I was off to find Mary Beth.

Arriving at the hospital, I went through the first set of doors and down the hall. Remembering from our talk earlier, she should be in the first floor examination area.

Seeing Tina, as I entered the waiting area, I greeted her, "Hi Tina."

"Hello Matilda, I see you've brought me some lunch," she teased sarcastically. After seeing the surprise on my face, she quickly added, "I'm just kidding, what can I do for you today?"

"I'm looking for Mary Beth. After she’s finished here, we'll go up to see Rachael."

"At this moment she's, in back, having some pictures taken."

"Having some pictures taken?" I wondered aloud.

Tina giggled as she responded, "They’re taking some X-Rays of her ribcage."

"Oh, those kind of pictures. Well I guess they don't need me to hold her hand or anything like that," I giggled softly, as I was joking.

"Oh no, no hand holding needed," she agreed, also giggling. "Why don't you have a seat? I'll bring her out when they’re finished."

"Thank you Tina," I found myself a soft couch, set our lunches on a near by table, and settled in for an unknown wait. I fired up my PDA and went to work. I wanted to find out as much as I could about the schools network, that is, before RJ figures out how to lock me out, just to see how long it will take for me to work my way back in.

I waited about thirty minutes before Tina escorted Mary Beth into the waiting room. "Hi Munchkin, been waiting long?" Mary Beth called out as she came through the double doors.

"No, not too long. Just long enough to figure out how to take over the world, but not long enough to execute the plan."

Mary Beth stopped, put her fists on her hips and stared at me.

"What?" I asked, surprised by her action, and not knowing what I’d done to upset her.

"You are NOT nick naming me PINKIE!" she declared.

"Who said anything about a nickname?"

"Well, you said, you figured out how to take over the world. You're the smart one and I'm the tall one. Sounds to me that you're comparing us to 'Pinkie and the Brain'."

"The thought never crossed my mind ... until now. You know, Pinkie isn't bad."

"Matilda, you're not listening ... I said NO."

"Oh come on, it's better than what Charles called you."

"You're right, Pinkie is better than what he called me, but the answer is still no."

"All right, I won't call you Pinkie and because we're friends I'll never call you ..."

"MATILDA!"

"I wasn't going to say it. I do, however, reserve the right to come up with an appropriate nickname."

"As long as I have the right to say no, if I don't like it."

"That's an acceptable compromise. Now, shall we eat?" I smiled, pointing to the food on the table.

"Matilda, how hungry do you think I am, that's way too much for me."

"Who said that it was all for you? I said, 'shall we eat' as in ... both of us."

"Oh ... I just assumed that you'd already eaten, along with the rest of the year."

"I told you that I'd wait for you."

"Yes, but I thought you'd just wait for me, not wait to eat lunch with me."

I just shrugged my shoulders and handed her a plate, as she sat down. We talked as we ate. We also practiced our French. We'd only had one lesson but we both agreed ... we sounded really awful. We were both giggling at how bad we sounded when Dr. Harris came in and invited us into his office.

"Well Mary Beth, after carefully examining you and looking over your X-Ray's, it appears that Mr. Peterson is correct, you have been too active. Several of the cracks in your ribs are larger now than when you were at Primary Children’s. I'm prescribing one month of no walking, and definitely no stairs."

"You mean I have to lay around in bed for a month?" Mary Beth exclaimed, as she sadly slumped down in her chair. She looked like she’d lost her best friend, even though I was sitting next to her.

"A hundred years ago, cracked ribs would have meant three months in bed. Today we’re a little more advanced. I've arranged for an alternate means of transportation," he explained as he pressed a button on his phone. "Marie, you may come in now."

The side door opened and Marie entered, pushing what was to be Mary Beth’s transportation. It was sleek, it was fast, it had padded leather, and lots of chrome, and when I saw it I started laughing.

“A wheelchair?” Mary Beth cried out.

“Matilda, what’s so funny?” Marie asked.

It took me a few moments to control my laughing enough to squeak out, “I suggested a wheelchair two days ago.”

“Using a wheelchair between buildings is fine, but how am I supposed to get to our French class on the third floor, choir practice in the theater, or to my room on the second floor?” Mary Beth complained, looking for a way out of living her life from a seated position.

“Well, normally the students aren’t permitted to use the elevators,” Mr. Peterson said from behind us, startling us. “However, as long as Dr. Harris feels it’s necessary for you to be in the wheelchair, you and Matilda have been granted access. As of about ten minutes ago, all of the elevators will show up on the school maps, on your PDA’s. They have been programmed to open using your thumb print.”

‘Why is he here? Is he always so interested in all the student’s medical needs? Or is there something special about the two of us?’

"I didn't know there are elevators in these buildings," Mary Beth complained.

"Oops," I confessed, "I must have missed that part when I was telling you about my graduation."

"Oh really, and what else haven't you told me?" Mary Beth asked.

"Girls, this isn't the time," Mr. Peterson expressed with a chuckle. "Let's allow Dr. Harris to continue telling us about Mary Beth's treatment."

"There's more?" Mary Beth asked in shock.

"That's the only major change. You're still to use the elastic bandages, except when you bathe. Just out of curiosity, who has been applying your bandages each day?"

"Well ... Um, I take them off before I shower, and, Matilda's been putting them on for me," Mary Beth explained. She appeared a little nervous as she explained our arrangement.

"What ... really?" Mr. Peterson surprisingly questioned. "You haven't had one of the other g..."

"That's fine Dear," Dr. Harris interrupted. "The reason I asked was to say they've been doing an excellent job, not too loose, and not too tight. Matilda, I'm going to give you two additional bandages. I want you to wrap her from her arms to the bottom of her rib cage, not just around the damaged ribs. That will provide some additional support for the damaged ribs. In addition, I've arranged for a second set of bandages, the ones we took off this afternoon were getting a little ripe. That’s my fault for not thinking ahead, sorry about that. Mary Beth, when you bathe put the bandages you take off down the laundry chute along with your clothes. They'll be cleaned and returned for use the next day. Do you two have any questions?"

"I have one; what about her muscle tone?" Mr. Peterson asked. "Without using her legs for four weeks, what's her mobility going to be like in six weeks?"

"There shouldn't be any problem. She can walk around in their rooms, to change clothes, to bathe, things like that. She can also stand for choir practice," Dr. Harris explained.

"What about using the restrooms during the day?" Mary Beth asked, shyly.

"There's no problem with leaving the chair to take care of your personal needs. The wheelchair is to reduce the movement of your ribs, so they can mend properly, not completely eliminate it. The problem has been the almost continuous walking, along with all the stairs. After thirty days we'll re-evaluate your progress, but I want to see you each week. Are there any other questions?"

There weren't any more questions. Mary Beth reluctantly rose from where she was sitting and went over to Marie. I followed and we got a quick lesson in wheelchair 101. I pushed as Mary Beth tried to disappear into the padded leather seat.

As we left Dr. Harris's office I asked, "Which way do we go?"

"How should I know?" Mary Beth grumbled.

"Well, it's pretty obvious that I'm the engine behind this little land yacht. That makes you the navigator. So get out your PDA and find the nearest elevator, so we can go see Rachael. Oh, I forgot to tell you, tomorrow you need to go with me to see RJ. He's going to exchange your PDA for a current model."

"What do you mean, current model," she asked as she looked for the elevator on the building map.

"According to Beca, we were issued outdated PDA's because we arrived in middle of the school year. It seems that RJ is the only one who can register the current model on the network, at least for now,” I giggled.

"Oh, so I'm getting a new one, tomorrow. What about yours? Did you upgrade today? Go down the hall, at the junction make a left. The elevator will be on our right."

"He was planning to upgrade both of them tomorrow, but after learning about me breaking into the network with my old PDA, he changed his mind."

"He took yours away and banned you from all computers?"

"NOO! He has several new prototypes coming in next week. He's giving me one of them and I’ll be assisting with their evaluation."

Mary Beth spun around in her chair, surprised by my news, "No way, you're the youngest student here, and you're helping with something as important as selecting new PDA's for the whole school? That has to be some kind of record."

"Yeah," I agreed a little sadly, then jokingly I added. "Just another first for the Mystical Munchkin."

"Mystical Munchkin? Where did that come from?"

"Actually, from me. Everyone seems to think I have some kind of magic or mystic powers. It just popped into my head."

"Well I for one like it. Mystical Munchkin, it works for you, and it sings."

"MARY BETH! WHAT HAPPENED?" Rachael screamed as we entered her room, causing everyone else to turn, stare, and several jaw's hit the floor.

"Oh ... Matilda punched me out because I wouldn't take it easy," Mary Beth replied with a grin, while winking over her shoulder at me.

"I did no such thing! Although I have been trying to convince you to take it easy," I countered.

Several jaws were still on the floor, soon joined by a couple more, as Mary Beth and I started our verbal battle.

"Take it easy? Who is it that keeps complaining that we're late for everything," Mary Beth shot back.

"I never complained about being late. I just want to leave sooner so we won’t be late." ‘These guys better catch on quick, I don't know how long I can keep this up.’

"Well who is it that tried to tie my knees together so I wouldn't move so fast?"

"Well who says you can't move fast with your knees tied together. Penguins move pretty fast, and they have short legs."

"Of course they have short legs; they're only two feet tall. How could you expect them to have long legs?"

'I think they’re starting to wake up; some of their eyes are blinking.' "So now you're saying that because I'm short, I should have six inch legs?"

"Well if the shoe fits …"

"If you want to talk about shoes, let's talk about those tiny things of yours. I heard rumor that you and your little brother used to share shoes."

"We never shared shoes! We probably could have, but only because Jeffrey's feet were so big."

"Oh, and your feet aren't small?"

Mary Beth held up her feet for all to see. "What do you guys think, are my feet small?"

"Hey, wait a second," Abbey jumped in. "You two aren't supposed to be heckling each other, that's our job."

I stepped forward and held up Abbey's right hand. "And we have a winner folks, only thirteen verbal shots to figure out it was us against everyone else."

"Congratulations Abbey," Mary Beth added. "Em, what does that do to the average?"

"Well gee, I don't know," Em seemed surprised to be asked. "It's usually us heckling someone else, seeing how long it takes them to figure out we're heckling them. This is the first time that two went against each other with the group guessing what was going on."

"I guess that makes Abbey the current record holder, doesn't it?" Mary Beth queried.

"Okay, you've had your fun," Rachael bluntly stated. "Now tell us, why is Mary Beth in a wheelchair."

"Actually, my first line about Matilda punching me out, is more exciting than the truth. This is really stupid," Mary Beth grumbled.

"Because of all the walking and going up and down the stairs, her cracked ribs are worse now than after Bart beat her up," I added, gently resting a hand on her shoulder.

'I still feel sort of responsible for what's happened to Mary Beth and Rachael. I know it was Bart that hurt them and I'm not responsible for his actions. Still, if I weren’t trying to be me, they wouldn't have been trying to protect me. Somehow that makes sense, and then again, it doesn't make any sense at all.' Deep sigh, 'I need to schedule some time to talk with Ellen, I still need to sort this all out.'

"So Dr. Harris sentenced me to live in this, this … thing, for the next thirty days."

Giggling, I corrected her, "I think that was prescribed, not sentenced. And this thing is a wheelchair, which by the way appears to have never been used before."

"It still feels like a thirty day sentence."

"So how do you handle the stairs in that?" Wally asked.

"Do you have to get four or five others to carry you up and down?" Tony wondered aloud.

"Oh, that's the only good part," Mary Beth explained. "As long as I'm in this chair, we get to use the elevators."

“That’s unusual, I haven’t heard of anyone under year D using the elevators,” Hope thought aloud.

“It may be unusual, but not entirely unexpected,” Niki softly added.

“Hope, what was it you said about the elevators?” I asked.

“Um, I said that I haven’t heard of anyone under year D using them. Why?”

“That’s strange, Mr. Peterson said that ‘normally the students aren’t permitted to use the elevators’. Now you’re telling me that some students use them, that’s very strange,” I puzzled.

"Listen Matilda, you and Mary Beth haven't been here long enough to discover this on your own, like we did, so we'll just tell you," Wally said softly.

"Wally, is this something we should be discussing here?" Tony asked.

"I guess you're right about that. This should really be coming from Jenny and Aaron anyway. We'll talk later and give you all the details, at least the details that we know of."

"Anyway, it's almost time for choir practice, so we better get moving," Hope declared.

"Already?," Rachael complained. "But Matilda and Mary Beth just got here."

"I'm sorry Sis," I hugged Rachael as I apologized. "We were held up by Dr. Harris. I tell you what, I'll try to sneak back later."

"Promise?" Rachael begged.

"Oh, I can't promise, my schedule is really full on Mondays, but I'll try. Say, what time do you have dinner? Maybe I could come back then."

"They usually feed me dinner about 4:45. It's a lot earlier than I'm used to but that's what I get for being crippled," she remarked sadly.

"You're most definitely suffering from limited mobility, but because it's only a temporary condition, I wouldn't consider you crippled. Also, if these guys didn't tell you, the Black Sheep are working on a special computer interface for you."

"Oh we forgot about it," Niki confessed.

"Okay sis, stop pulling my leg, I don't need one longer than the other. If you hadn't noticed, I can't move my arms or hands, just how do you expect me to work a keyboard?"

"What about your fingers, can you move them?" Abbey asked.

"Yes, I can move them a little, that doesn't mean I can work a keyboard," Rachael grumbled.

"Don't worry about that. Just put yourself in our hands and we'll take care of you," Em added.

"Come on Munchkin, we really need to get this land yacht moving," Mary Beth teased.

"All right, I'm coming. I'll see you later Sis," I hugged Rachael and pushed Mary Beth out the door.

Mary Beth and I headed for the elevator as everyone else scurried down the stairs. We met up and started for the theater, at a very fast pace. We arrived and I asked the others to take Mary Beth in through the stage door, so she wouldn't have to climb the six steps from the floor to the stage. Even though practice had started, I needed to make a quick trip to the restroom. As I entered and went on stage, they had just finished with the carols in English.

"Oh good, you're here," Mrs. Taylor commented.

"I'm sorry I was late, I had to stop and ..."

"That's all right Dear, it happens to everyone from time to time. Just don't make a habit of being late," Mrs. T said with a smile. "Roberta, would you please take over for me. Run everyone through the carols in French. Pay particular attention to the base and tenor parts of ‘The Little Drummer Boy’; they have been a little weak.”

"I'd be happy to continue for you Mrs. T." Roberta readily agreed.

"Oh, and Roberta," Mrs. T added.

"Yes?"

"No rearranging of ‘Do You Hear What I Hear’.”

"But Mrs. T., you know I'm right! Having the oboe pick up the melody for the second and third verses would add depth to the melody as well as provide a more full body accompaniment for the choir," Roberta, pleaded her case.

"I'm not disagreeing with you. It's just that this isn't the time. The special guests that will be attending the concert in Quebec aren't accustomed to rewrites and variety. They will be more impressed by precision and accurately reproducing what the composer designed. You'll get your chance Dear, just be patient."

"Yes Mrs. T." Roberta reluctantly agreed.

"Matilda and Mary Beth, would you come with me, please," Mrs. T asked.

"You're iiiinnnn trouble." Someone called out.

"Matilda, what did you do this time," came from someone else.

Playfully, I turned and looked at the choir, shrugging my shoulders and gave them my best 'innocent little old me' look.

Mrs. T ignored the comments as she handed Roberta the baton. Roberta tapped the music stand, calling for attention, and everyone was instantly quiet.

Mrs. T smiled at the choir’s professional behavior, as she led Mary Beth and me into another room.

"Contrary to the hecklers," Mrs. T assured us with a smile, "neither of you are in trouble. After reviewing your schedules this is the only time I've found to audition your voices. If you would both stand next to the piano, we'll get started."

We took our places and were handed some music. For the next two hours, we sang together and we sang separately. There didn't seem to be any pattern to the music, we sang everything from simple children’s songs to classical, some pop, some country, and even some things I'd never heard of. We even sang several songs from, of all things, The Wizard of Oz.

At the end of the two plus hours Mrs. T thanked and dismissed us, as she left the room.

"Well that was odd," Mary Beth commented.

"Really, I expected ... I don't know, something more."

"Yeah, like what part she wants us to sing, or something like that."

"Oh well, I guess she'll tell us later. Have a seat and we'll go back to the lounge and see what the rest of the year has been up to."

"Do you think any of them are going to bug me about this wheelchair?"

"They may heckle you a bit, but I doubt it. For the most part, they are very understanding. Ready?"

"Yes, but when we get back I want to get a blanket. My legs sure get cold when I'm not doing the walking."

I giggled just a bit, "No problem, after we get back to the lounge, I'll run upstairs and grab one for you."

There was a surprise waiting for us when we got back to the lounge. Someone had rearranged the furniture to make space for two large folding tables along the wall opposite the plasma screen. There were two complete computers, along with several additional keyboards, mice, and trackballs. Everyone was gathered around the tables and the air was filled excitement, along with a barrage of excited chatter.

"What's all this?" I asked generally. It seems that no one had noticed our arrival.

"Oh Matilda, it' so exciting," Misa exclaimed, who noticed I was standing next to her.

"Good to see you two," Aaron greeted after hearing Misa call me by name, then went on to explain. "After lunch I talked with RJ, explaining about our project to build some wireless keyboards for Rachael. He commended our action and our desire to help Rachael. He said he'd see if he had some excess equipment that we could use."

"Excess equipment? Heck some of this stuff has never been used," SueAnn announced.

"But where did it come from?" Mary Beth asked.

"From the school, like everything else," Howard dryly replied.

"When we returned from choir practice, all of this was neatly stacked outside the lounge," Jenny added.

"Outside the lounge?" I queried.

"Of course! Remember, no one is permitted into a year lounge, other than their own, without permission," Wally reminded.

"Sorry, I forgot. It's still strange to me that even Mr. Peterson must ask permission to come in here. So Aaron, where do we start?"

"Who put me in charge of this project? After all, she's your sister!" He replied.

"I'm sorry Aaron," I apologized. "You're right of course, Rachael is my sister and the entire concept was my idea. Let me rephrase my question, how do wireless keyboards work?"

"Oh that's easy," Aaron responded with his usual smile, while picking up a pad of graph paper. "You draw a matrix, where the lines cross you put a switch. All the lines in the matrix go to the inputs of the keyboard control chip. The control chip determines which key has been pressed and sends a coded signal to the CPU. When it comes to a wireless keyboard, that signal is sent to a transmitter. The receiver then feeds the signal to the CPU."

"So what do we need to know before we can design a new keyboard?"

"We need to know what decoder chip is being used with what transmitter."

"If I understand you correctly, you're telling me we need to open up a keyboard and find out what makes it tick, right?" I asked, making sure I understood Aaron correctly.

"I believe that's what I said."

"Great, who wants to be slightly destructive?"

A dozen hands went up. "Aaron, I'll let you pick someone to help you with the discovery work. I need to run up to my room for a minute."

I went after a blanket for Mary Beth. While I was away from the noise of the crowd, I went over what Aaron had said about how a keyboard works. I tried to relate that to Rachael's fingers, and their limited movement. We needed to know exactly how much she could move each finger, then we would be able to determine how many keys she could operate. I realized that everyone wanted to be a part of the project, so I went through every ones profile checking their specialty.

When I got back to the lounge, I got everyone together and we talked about the project for a while. I went over what I hoped to accomplish. Next, I involved everyone and we came up with a list of the functions we wanted, then we narrowed it down to what we felt we could reasonably accomplish in the amount of time available to us.

About that time there was a knock at the door, Howard went to answer it. He turned back to announce, "Jenny, Aaron, Mr. Peterson and Ellen would like to come in for a few minutes."

"All right, who did something to get us into trouble again?" someone yelled. There was some snickering from various parts of the room.

"That's enough you guys, nobody's said anything about being in trouble," Aaron cautioned.

"Howard, Mr. Peterson and Ellen are welcome here at any time," Jenny said. "Permit them entrance."

“Good evening everyone," Mr. Peterson greeted, as he entered. "Thank you for seeing us this afternoon. It has been brought to our attention that Ellen and I have been neglect in our duties."

There was some general background chatter, along with some snickering, but no one said anything outright until Jenny asked, "In what manor have you neglected your duties?"

"Four days ago, when we introduce Mary Beth and Matilda as the newest members of year A, we failed to assign them their specialty," Mr. Peterson explained.

"We'd like to correct that oversight now," Ellen announced. "Mary Beth, would you please stand."

Mary Beth set the brakes on her wheel chair, kicked up the footrests, and gently rose to her feet.

"Mary Beth, after going over your profile, we realized that you have two very strong personality strengths; first, you care about other people and find joy in helping others. Second, you are fascinated with the human body, how it's put together, and how adaptable it is to changes in environment. After reviewing all your information, it became apparent that you are best suited for the medical profession, and as such, you will be the year’s medical expert, specializing in trauma care. Where everyone receives training in first-aid, you will receive in-depth training in emergency care and life saving techniques. Any questions?"

Mary Beth didn't ask any questions, it's hard to ask a question when your chin is on the floor. She recovered her senses, with a tug on her arm from me, closed her mouth and shook her head. She slowly sat back down, still in a daze.

"That's all right Dear, we'll talk more about it later. I'm sure you'll have some questions after we talk. Now, Matilda, would you please stand."

I stopped smiling at Mary Beth's confused look as I realized that it was my turn. Slowly I stood, wondering what awaited me.

"As you all know, because of the events of last night, our youngest student has a thing for computers. This isn’t your every day run-of-the-mill attraction to computers either; she is obviously very adept at getting them to do exactly what she wants. However, we already have a Computer Systems Specialist as well as a Network Systems Specialist. We therefore had to look deep into Matilda's profile to determine what she would be best at besides getting into trouble; we already have enough of those as well. After much debate we realized that Matilda's strengths would best be of service, to both her and the school, if she were to expand her talents. Therefore, Matilda will be the school’s Security Systems Specialist. This means that not only will she work with RJ on our computer security systems, but will also learn all none computer security systems as well. Do you have any questions?”

“Not right now, but give me a couple of hours and I’m sure after it sinks in I’ll come up with a hundred or more,” I answered, trying to make sense of Ellen’s last statement.

"Well, that concludes the assignment of specialties," Mr. Peterson stated. "Before we leave, I have a question. What do you have against the far wall and where did it come from?”

‘I don't know about everyone else, but I was very much surprised by Mr. Peterson's last question. I thought he knew everything that went on here. I guess he's going to visit with RJ after he leaves here. Being that I'm running this project, I suppose I should be the one to tell him about it.’

I briefly explained to Mr. Peterson and Ellen the project we'd undertaken to help Rachael during her recovery. Aaron added the part, about his talk with RJ, and the equipment being outside the lounge after choir practice.

The room was silent for several seconds before Mr. Peterson spoke, "This is a surprise, but a pleasant surprise. I must commend you all; for one, caring enough about another that you willing to devote yourselves to helping them. Secondly, for taking on such a surprising undertaking. Although, I'm not sure that I approve of your turning your lounge into a workshop ... but it is your lounge. With your permission, I'll look around the school and see if I can find some space better suited to your needs." The room was silent again.

I looked at Aaron and Jenny, they nodded their consent witch left it up to me to respond. "Um, yea, that would be great, thank you," I sputtered.

"No promises, but I'll see what I can find. I'm guessing that you'll out grow the space you have before you finish your project. Well, it’s almost time for dinner; we'll leave now so you can be on your way. Thank you for letting us visit with you."

With that, Mr. Peterson and Ellen left, however, none of us moved.

"Did Mr. Peterson give us a complement?" Wally asked, almost in shock.

"Ya, I think he did," SueAnn answered.

"And I think he offered to help us, well in a way," Barb mentioned.

"You heard it too, I thought I was dreaming," Morgan muttered.

"You weren't dreaming, he offered to find us some place to work. At least he said he would try to find us some space," Misa remarked.

"He's never complemented us before," Tony mumbled.

"Maybe he's getting soft," Abbey said.

"Could it be that we're the ones who are getting soft?" Tony wondered aloud.

"We can't get soft, we're the Black Sheep, we've got a reputation to maintain," George exclaimed.

"George, it's true that the Black Sheep were trouble makers and they were frequently in fights." I went on to expound on their positive attributes, "However, they were also known for their flying, they were the best in the pacific. They also spent much of their free time doing things for others, rebuilding schools, villages, and helping the civilians after the attacks by the Japanese, Misa, no offense intended. We can still be 'The Black Sheep', by being the best students here, by having the best grade point average, the best attitude, and by helping everyone that is in need."

"You mean no more heckling?"

I smiled as I replied, "Who said anything about not having fun now and then, or that we'll never be in trouble? After all, for me to be the best me, I'm bound to get into trouble from time to time."

"I think what Matilda is trying to tell us," Jenny explained, "is that we can be the best we can be, and still have fun doing it. Also, that we do not need to go out looking for trouble. If trouble finds us from time to time, well, it is part of the ride." She paused then added with a smile, after looking around the group, "And if trouble comes looking for us, we WILL be ready for it."

There was some general cheering, along with a few shouted comments.

"All right, all right, settle down," Aaron called out, trying, successfully, to restore some order. "I don't know about the rest of you but I for one, am hungry. Let's go get some dinner."

"You're always hungry Aaron," someone called out.

"We should nickname you 'Rolly' after that puppy in Disney's movie," someone else called out, with a chuckle.

"At least I don't look like a fat puppy," Aaron countered.

"Not yet!" someone snickered.

"All right, enough heckling and enough about my eating. I'm going to dinner! Are you coming Jenny?"

"Of course I am. After all tomorrow’s breakfast is a long way away. Will anyone else be joining us?" Jenny asked, as she rose and looked around.

It didn't take more than two seconds for everyone to realize that Jenny was right. Everyone except Mary Beth jumped to their feet and headed for their coats, and the door. I wrapped the blanket around her legs and we quickly followed the crowd.

There were two things different about dinner that evening; one, Mr. Peterson wasn't in attendance. Two, several of the smaller tables were being used by the other LDS students, which reminded me of Family Home Evening. Their presence prompted some questions by the others at our table. Mary Beth was unusually quiet, which left it up to me to answer everyone’s questions.

When I finished eating, I took Mary Beth to attend Family Home Evening with the branch, while I rushed over to the hospital to see Rachael. We talked about how boring her days were. I gave her a rundown of our project to build some keypads for her. She seemed skeptical until I got into the details of how they would be mounted, allowing her fingers to do all the work. This cheered her up considerably, even more than my visit.

The last surprise of the day came at choir practice. First, there was a lot of commotion and giggling as five members of year C were escorted to practice, by five students from year H. The funny part was that they were all dressed alike, long pink, very frilly dresses, pink lacey anklets, and pink Mary Jane’s. Their hair had been done in a very childlike manner. This was obviously the group that had setup year A at the banquet. I quickly logged back into the system and checked in the directory ‘Discipline’, comparing against the discipline that year A received several months ago. As I suspected, they were the same. The second surprise was that Mrs. T and Roberta were several minutes late, each carrying armloads of paper. "Good evening everyone," Mrs. T greeted cheerfully. "I apologize for being late, Roberta and I have been very busy getting the music together for the rest of our concert tour. Most of what we've been planning for the Toronto concert will be used in Quebec; however, we are adding three additional pieces to the overall tour, and I will be juggling which songs we will sing at which location. I also have two other changes to make; Mary Beth, I would like you to come up front and stand next to Susanne. Matilda, would you please move to the front row as well, only I'd like you on the far left end, please."

As Mary Beth and I moved to our requested positions, Mrs. T and Roberta started passing out the music, Mrs. T to the choir and Roberta the orchestra. The first new piece was no surprise, being that we would be performing in Canada, ‘Oh Canada’. The second took me by surprise. It wasn't something I expected a school like this would be singing, ‘Willy Bang Bang’, oh well, something just for fun I guess. The third was a medley of songs from, ‘The Wizard of Oz’. Someone in Quebec must really have a thing for Munchkins.

Although there was a lot of excitement and chatter going on, I noticed that Mrs. T gave Mary Beth a completely new music portfolio, setting the old one on the floor next to the podium. I also noticed Mr. Peterson in the back of the hall with another man. Mr. Peterson seemed to be pointing in my general direction and the other man appeared to be nodding in approval.

The rest of practice went well. We had a lot of fun with the songs from Willy Wonka and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I’m not sure who merged the music from those two movies together, but they must have had fun and been more than just a little crazy.

Practice ended and after a quick visit to the restroom, we were on our way back to our rooms. “So what is with the new music portfolio?” I inquired as I propelled my friend along.

“Oh, I think Mrs. T had wax in her ears, when she was listening to us sing. Look at this,” she held open the portfolio to me, “she’s given me the music for a first soprano, like I can sing or something. She even wants me to spend some extra time with Susanne, learning to sing duets with her, can you imagine how that’s going to sound.”

“Well, if Mrs. T put you there I guess you must be better than you think. After all, she’s been conducting this choir for some time, she must know what she’s doing,” I confessed, trying to help Mary Beth feel better about herself.

“Come off it Matilda, you know I sound terrible, admit it,” she moaned.

I stopped just outside our building, walked around and looked at her, face to face, “Okay Mary Beth, that’s enough of putting yourself down, at least when it comes to your singing. We’ve been friends for years. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard you sing, but it’s been a lot. I’ve always wished I could sing half as good as you do. I’ve tried to tell you before, but something always stopped me. But not this time! Mary Beth, you have the voice of an angel. It’s like me and computers, we fit together and I can make them do whatever I want. When you sing, I want to stop everything I’m doing so I can listen to you. Take my word for it, it won’t be long before you aren’t singing duets anymore, soon you’ll be singing solos.”

I stood there, looking into her eyes and watching a tear roll down her cheek, as she looked into mine. I don’t know how much time passed before she spoke timidly, breaking the spell. “Matilda … I’m getting cold, let’s go inside.”

I smiled and went back to my joyful duty. After we were ready for bed, I found the soundtrack’s to go with the music that we needed to learn. We spent half an hour learning the words to the songs the choir would be singing. I guess we’ll have to learn to get by with less sleep each night, because neither of us will give up our time reading the scriptures together. Each time we read together I feel the special bond between us growing; I wouldn’t give that up for anyone.

’With all the excitement of the last few days, I wonder what a normal day will be like, or was today a normal day? Now just who was that man with Mr. Peterson, there was something about him that was familiar, I just couldn’t place it. Was it the way he moved or the way he leaned to one side when he talked to Mr. Peterson? Something strangely familiar, I just can’t quite place where I’ve seen him before. Oh well, I’ll remember sooner or later, I just hope it’s sooner, all of these mysteries are starting to drive me crazy. Just like wondering what’s in store for us tomorrow?’

* * * To Be Continued * * *

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