"The - Sun'll come out, tomorrow ... "
or the next day .. or maybe the day after that.

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 10

By Penny Reed Cardon

I awoke to what 'Winnie the Pooh' would call a 'blustery day.' The wind was howling outside my bedroom window, and the sound of the snow pounding against the window reminded me of camping with my family when I was eight, being in a tent during the sand storm. As the fog in my mind cleared, I realized two things; first, I was alone in my bed, and second, I was cold ... and wet.

'Oh great, what's Mary Beth going to think of me now? It’s bad enough that I can't go more than two hours without going to the bathroom, now I've wet the bed. I haven't done that since I was seven. That's if you don't count the time after Dad found out about me being Matilda. I wonder if I can get changed before Mary Beth finds out?'

As I started to open my eyes, I moved an arm, rustling the blankets.

"Good morning," a familiar yet cheery voice greeted me.

'Dang, not a chance of getting to the bathroom un-noticed.'

I sighed and shook my head. Opening my eyes, I found Mary Beth sitting at my computer.

"Sleep well?" she continued.

"Um, yea I guess. I don't remember waking up at all," I replied, trying not to move any more than I had to.

"That's obvious!"

"Oh, you know," I mumbled softly.

"Yes, well, it was kind of hard not to notice waking up in a wet bed."

"You were still in, when it, I mean when I … Mary Beth, I'm so sorry ... You must think I'm ..."

"Hold on a second, do I sound like I'm mad or upset? Listen, I know the stress you've been under the last couple of days, and how emotionally burned out you were last night. I figure that's why you didn't wake up during the night as you usually do. After you zonked out last night I did a little research of my own, about the symptoms of stress. Even though I'm upset about never seeing my family again, you've got a lot more things that you’re worried about. Adding everything together, I’m not going to be concerned about an occasional wet bed."

"So you're not mad at me?"

Laughing, she replied, "Haven't you been listening to me? I thought you were the smart one. Do I need to use little words and sentences early in the morning? All right, I'll make it very simple. No, I'm not mad at you. I’m overly concerned ... wait, too big a word. I am worried about you. You try to take on too many responsibil ... no too big, too many jobs for someone our age. I'm also worried that if you don't get out of that wet bed you're going to develop a rash. So get up and get in the shower."

I slowly got out of bed. "Thank you. You are, without a doubt, the kindest, most understanding person I know." I tried to give Mary Beth a hug, but she had other ideas.

"STOP! Don't even think about hugging me, until you've had a shower and are dressed. I may be understanding, but I do have my limits."

Rejected, I waddled off to the bathroom and worked my way out of my wet clothes. That was when I saw the bandage on my arm, a vivid reminder of my visit with Dr. Harris the night before, and why.

Needless to say, I was more than a little depressed about the whole thing. The most frustrating part of this whole mess was waiting for the test results.

It also goes without saying that I wasn't in a very talkative mood when Mary Beth and I arrived in the year lounge. Mary Beth did most of the talking. After all, she knew more about what happened to me than I did, thanks to some twisted chemist.

Everyone tried to get me to think about something besides the pending test results. At breakfast, they tried to distract me by talking about snowmen and snow-women. Rusty did a pretty good job of keeping my mind occupied, with three days worth of French pressed into three hours. RJ and I finally finished going over all of my known intrusions of the schools network, with the exception of last Friday. As we were finishing up for the day, he asked if there were any we hadn't gone over. When I told him the name of the server where I'd found the no contact rule, I think he had a heart attack. He dropped his notebook, sat down suddenly, and stared at me, as if I just told him he was fired.

"Ha … How … how on earth did you find Joshua!" he stammered.

"Well, it wasn't easy and it took a long time, tracking data flow from one server to another. But once I knew it existed, tracking it down was just a matter of time."

"Matilda, I ... Um ... Nobody knows about Joshua!" RJ paused, as he stroked his beard, thinking. Nervously he asked, "Who did you tell? I mean, who knows that you found your way into Joshua?"

I thought for a moment, starting out slowly, "I told my Mother and Ellen that I'd found the rule, the one about never seeing our families. I'm sure that Ellen told Mr. Peterson that I know about the 'no contact rule.' He didn't seem at all upset, when we spoke with him Saturday morning. If that information is stored in more than one place, they may not know where I found it. Oh yes, I had to tell Mary Beth that she could never see her family again. I never used the name Joshua, in any conversation."

"You're sure? You never mentioned Joshua by name?"

"I'm very sure," I replied confidently.

"Maybe this can be handled internally," RJ mumbled. "I'll have to tell Mr. Peterson that a breach has occurred, and that it was strictly internal. I'd better get started on plans to re-build the security system from scratch. The team leader will want a report ASAP."

As I stood up getting ready to leave, RJ stopped me. "Hold it young lady, just where do you think you're going? You can't simply waltz in here, tell me that you've cracked my best security system and expect to walk out as if nothing has happened. You sit yourself down here and get out that magical PDA of yours; you're going to show me how you found Joshua, step by step."

I did convince RJ to allow me a couple of short restroom breaks and a note to Mary Beth so she wouldn't worry about me. He checked and cleared my afternoon schedule so we wouldn't be interrupted.

I gave him the background story, which told him why I was even looking for a mystery server. Slowly I duplicated each step, explaining how each failure pointed me in a new direction. I explained how I'd learned to track the amount of data flowing between various computers around the school and the systems servers, and also the data moving between the servers. What became apparent was a gap, or rather a hole, in the server network. Most of the data is routed back and forth between the various computers and the servers. I discovered that data was randomly disappearing, being routed to an unknown address. It took a while to figure out what computer was sending data into the black hole. Once that I’d found that, finding the IP address wasn’t hard.

By the time we were finished my tummy was more than a little bit rumbly. I'd have tried live Gagh if it were on the menu for dinner. Fortunately for me, it wasn't.

As I was about to leave I handed RJ, my PDA.

"What's this for?"

"Well, aren't you going to ban me from the system, suspend my access?"

"No! Well at least not right now. I'll admit, what you did was very serious, and what action Mr. Peterson takes will be up to him. As for me, I'm just glad that the breach was internal. It still amazes me that you tracked down Joshua the way you did. I've never seen a more unorthodox method of infiltrating a computer network. If you hadn't shown me what you did, I wouldn't have believed it was possible. My problem now is how do I prevent anyone else from getting in the way you did. Go get yourself some lunch!" RJ smiled as he handed back my PDA. Noticing the time display on the PDA's screen, he corrected, "Better make that dinner. Sorry I kept you so long."

I sent Mary Beth a note, arranging to meet her in the cafeteria. Arriving more than a few minutes ahead of everyone else and being famished after missing lunch, I quickly munched a banana to curb my hunger until the others arrived. Having a few minutes alone I did what I always did. Out came my PDA as I continued my research into why Bart and his family could get away with everything they did.

"Hi Munchkin, did mister trouble find you again?" Misa called out as she entered the cafeteria, pushing Mary Beth.

"Who said I was in trouble?" I replied cheerfully, as I shut down my PDA. I was just a little disappointed that they'd arrived when they did. It forced me to close down a link that I'd worked so hard to establish, the network at the Salt Lake County, District Attorney's office.

"Ya must be in trouble; ya missed lunch and choir practice," George kidded sarcastically.

"AGAIN!" Tina added.

"All I can tell you is, there was a security problem with one of the school's servers and RJ wanted me to help him figure it out," I replied calmly.

"You didn't by chance have something to do with the problem, did you?" Aaron asked, giving me an evil grin.

I looked at Aaron for a couple of seconds, trying to decide the best way to answer him, without telling a lie, "Well, if you're asking me did I cause the problem? I'd have to say ... No! I didn't actually cause the problem. I may have had a small hand in it, being that I stumbled across it and reported the problem."

'I don't think I could have given out any less information and still been honest. Any more information could possibly have been too revealing. I'll have to give Mary Beth all the details later.'

"A small hand in it?" Barb snickered. "That's a good one; you've probably got the smallest hands here. A small hand,” giggling.

Everyone was giggling at my use of 'small hand' and Barbara's humorous commentary. Starting our evening meal on such a lively note helped the time pass quickly. We'd finished dinner and started back to the lounge when my PDA beeped.

"Well, so much for a quiet evening," I muttered.

"Why, what's going on now?" Mary Beth asked.

"It seems I have an appointment with Mr. Peterson."

"Matilda, are you sure you didn't cause some trouble?" Barbara snickered, from over my shoulder.

"When does he want to see us?" Mary Beth asked.

"Not us, just me, and right now. Can you guys get MayBee back to the lounge?" I asked those around us.

"No problem," Tina and Misa answered together.

"Matilda, watch out for those high backed wooden chairs in Mr. Peterson's office," George cautioned. "Trust me; they weren't intended to be comfortable."

Shaking my head and with a smile, I leaned down and gave Mary Beth a hug, "It looks like you'll be in good hands."

"I rather have you with me," she whispered. "Hurry back."

"I'll do my best."

Leaving Mary Beth in capable hands, I headed back to the administration building. When I arrived, I was surprised to find that Mr. Peterson's office wasn't on the main floor. As the principal, I expected him to have a large main floor office.

'This must be about Joshua. I wonder if this is going to be your typical "Matilda we're very disappointed in you" speech, or "you're grounded for a month" speech. Wait a second, I can't be grounded, this is a live in school. I wonder what they do for a serious discipline problem? I mean, the childish pink dresses were for acting childish. Oh well, I guess I'll find out soon enough.' Knock, knock.

"Hello Matilda, please come in," Mr. Peterson greeted, as he opened the door.

"Hello Mr. Peterson. I do hope you've invited me here for a social visit," I joked timidly.

"Unfortunately, not this time. Won't you have a seat?" He led me towards a wooden chair in front of his desk.

I stood, looking at the indicated chair for a moment. I shook my head as I was about to sit down. Suddenly, Mr. Peterson stopped me, "Wait a second, this doesn't quite feel right for this conversation. Let's go sit on the couch."

I sighed deeply in relief, as my heart started beating again.

Mr. Peterson continued after we were both seated. "Matilda, RJ tells me that because of your … shall we say, exceptional talents you've discovered something ..."

"I found Joshua, if that's what you're talking about," I interrupted.

"Nothing like getting right to the point, is there? Yes, I am referring to Joshua. Matilda, there were only three people on this campus who knew about Joshua. That would be RJ, myself, and one other person; you make it four.

"You better make it five."

"WHAT!"

"Well, I haven't told Mary Beth yet, but I don't keep secrets from her."

"Matilda, you cannot tell Mary Beth about Joshua,” he said emphatically.

"What are you talking about? There are no secrets between study partners. That's the first rule that we were given. You can't ask me to keep this from her. She knows me too well. She'll know that I'm trying to hide something from her."

"That's why I wanted to have this talk before you had an opportunity to be alone with Mary Beth. I also know how difficult this is going to be for you and for your relationship with Mary Beth. You must understand that the data on Joshua cannot be compromised. If the existence of Joshua leaked out, thousands of lives would be affected. Some of the fallout of Joshua being revealed would undoubtedly result in the death of many people. You see, I'm not only concerned for the students here at the Manor, although they are my number one priority, but there are many others as well."

"Mr. Peterson, you can’t ... I mean ... I ... I,” I hung and shook my head.

'I'm really getting tired of this being the smallest adult here. All the rules have changed, but nobody will tell me what the new rules are, until I break one. The hardest thing is that I have to hide everything from everyone, now even from Mary Beth. Is there anyway I can go back in time and undo what I did? Yes I know that by talking to yourself people will think you're crazy, but what about thinking to yourself?'

Mr. Peterson remained silent. Eventually I looked up, into his eyes, "Mr. Peterson ... did you know that we'd be having this conversation when you approved me being admitted here?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you telling me you're not on the selection committee?"

Mr. Peterson looked at me for several moments, as if he were trying to look into my mind, trying to see what I was thinking. "Yes Matilda, I am on the selection committee, and yes, I somehow knew that one day we might be having this conversation, or one like it. I just didn't expect it to be so soon. I thought we'd have a couple of years to get to know each other before having to cross this bridge."

"So what do we do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean about me, about knowing things that I shouldn't know, and what do I do about Mary Beth? I have to tell her something. You tell me that I can't tell her about Joshua. Shoot, I can't even tell her that I can't tell her. She'd start asking me hundreds of questions, she'd question me and beg me until I ... no, no she wouldn't. Don't worry about it, I'll figure out a way to be honest with Mary Beth, without telling her everything I know. But I don't like it; I don’t like it at all."

"I am sorry Matilda. I don't like it either, but it has to be this way. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Can you answer a couple of questions for me?"

"If I can." Mr. Peterson replied hesitantly, looked a little nervous. Which made me giggle.

"Nothing too serious,” I giggled. “Let me ask you this, is Ellen the other person that knows about Joshua?"

"N - No, why do you ask?"

"Because, she knows that I found the 'no contact rule' on one of the school's servers. If she doesn't know about Joshua, it's logical for me to assume that, that information is stored in more than one location. I just have to find that second location. Then I'll have something to tell Mary Beth without mentioning Joshua, or the rest of what I found there."

"You're asking me to give you permission to wander around the school's network, looking for ... what exactly?"

"For a way for me to keep my honor and your secret," I replied, without hesitation.

Mr. Peterson looked at me for several seconds, scowled is more like it. He appeared to be trying to determine how serious I was, "It seems I don't have much choice."

"There are always ... possibilities," I calmly stated, quoting Mr. Spock

"You're saying that if I don't ..."

"Then I'll work out something else. I cannot lie, not to Mary Beth, not to you, or anyone else. There are, however, alternatives."

"I see," Mr. Peterson replied cautiously. He went to his desk and picked up a small pad of paper. Writing something, he tore off a sheet and folded it, twice, then opened his office door. "Thank you for coming to see me, and for being honest with me. It has been ... an interesting conversation."

"The pleasure was mine," I replied sweetly, with a curtsey thrown in for fun. I wondered what my next move should be, other than leaving his office.

‘Being that Mr. Peterson hadn't mentioned any of my other activities; I didn't feel that this would be the right time for me to bring them up. To be honest, I was delighted with the fact that I wasn't yelled at, or banned from the system.'

As I left Mr. Peterson's office, he handed me the paper he'd written on and folded. I was halfway down the stairs before stopping to look at the paper. At first, I wasn't sure what to make of it. What he'd written was either encrypted, or some kind of code. I refolded the paper, putting it in my pocket with my PDA. The moment my fingers touched the PDA I realized what Mr. Peterson had given me. It was a name, an encrypted name to be sure, but it was the name of a server. I thought about sending him a note to thank him. Then I realized that because of the way he went about giving me that information it wouldn't be the right thing to do. Also, it wasn't necessary. I decided that spending a little time with Mother Nature and my PDA was next on my agenda. It didn't take me long to find the server.

There wasn't much data there; it also appeared that this was an old system, about to be retired. It did have the information about the no contact rule, along with some other information that I assumed had once been classified, but no longer. What puzzled me, was that after I'd found the server by name and then located its IP address, I had another mystery. This server didn't appear to be part of the school system, at least not on this campus.

I met up with the rest of the Black Sheep at choir practice.

"Hi Munchkin," Mary Beth called out.

"So what did Mr. Peterson want?" Jenny asked, as most of them gathered around.

'Oh for the chance to tell them that I know everything, about the school, about the mystery group, and about the other schools.'

"He … just wanted to thank me for helping RJ with the problem I found," I replied, hoping they wouldn't press me for more details.

"It took forty-five minutes and private meeting to say thank you?" SueAnn questioned.

"So Matilda, how are the wooden chairs?" George asked.

"I wouldn't know, we sat on the couch," I answered honestly with a smile.

"Well, if she was on the couch, she must not have been in trouble. Come on, gang, Mrs. T is waiting," Jenny announced, saving me from additional questions.

After choir practice, Mary Beth and I had a long talk. I told her what I had found on the mystery server; that is, the one Mr. Peterson gave me the link to. I also told her about my progress with the network at the District Attorney's office, and the number of complaints on record against Bart and his family. Oh well, at least there were enough challenges and excitement to help me forget about the blood tests. I wondered if not hearing anything was a good thing or bad.

‘I guess I’ll see what tomorrow brings; maybe the sun will come out after all.’

As I drifted off to sleep, a silly little song kept replaying in my mind.

The sun’ll come out, tomorrow.
Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there’ll be sun.
Just thinking about tomorrow,
scares away the heartache and the sorrow, till there’s none.
. . .

* * * * *

Tuesday morning arrived, and as we readied ourselves for the day I was hoping to hear something from Dr. Harris. Alas no. Once again, I wasn't very talkative before or during breakfast, although the gang tried their best.

After we arrived at our French class, I did the same thing I’d done at breakfast. I removed my PDA from my skirt pocket and placed it on the table where I could get at it quickly, just in case. Time seemed to drag by very slowly, as I wallowed in my frustration, waiting for some word from Dr. Harris.

The clock picked up the pace slightly while I was with RJ. We went over the information that Mr. Peterson had given me. I wasn't ready to tell RJ about my research concerning Bart. RJ did confirm my suspicion that the 'MOms#07' server would indeed be removed from active service before the end of the year. He would not confirmed or deny that 'MOms#07' was off campus.

About twenty minutes before we normally quit for the day, we were joined by an upper year student. "Hello, Janice, I'm glad you could join us," RJ greeted. "Have you met Matilda?"

"Officially? No, we’ve never been formally introduced. We sent some notes back and forth while she was in the hospital," Janice replied, extending her hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Matilda."

I shook her hand as I thought about what she said. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Janice, or would you prefer JB.'

"She is sharp little one, isn't she?" Janice directed her question to RJ. “Ouch”

“Sorry, it’s a reflex action,” I shyly apologized for kicking her.

"You have no idea," RJ chuckled, looking at me as if scolding me. I replied, by blushing.

"Well RJ, at least you'll have someone else around to help you with security after I graduate next May."

"Yes I’ll need more than just one helper after you leave. The problem I'm faced with now is how to keep the Munchkin out of the high security systems."

"Are you telling me that what everyone was saying about her, after the Halloween Ball, was true?" Janice exclaimed. "She really hacked the network servers with the old PDA that I configured for her?"

I shrugged as I nodded sheepishly. Being that I had my PDA out, hoping for some word from Dr. Harris, I entered my network shortcut and handed my PDA to Janice.

"That's incredible! How could she have done this on one of the old travel PDA's? RJ, I'm sorry, I don't know how she got through the security I put on the PDA ..."

"Relax, Janice; I've already had her show me how she got in. I've already made some changes, but they didn’t make much difference, as you can see," RJ chuckled, taking my PDA from Janice.

"And you're giving her one of the new PDA’s?" Janice asked.

"Naturally, could you do what she has done? Can you think of anyone else that's better capable of giving the new PDA a proper field test?" RJ asked.

'By this time I was starting to get a little upset, being talked about as if I wasn't in the room. I think this calls for some drastic action ... drastic but funny.'

Stepping up onto a nearby chair, I started waving my arms and called out, "Hey! Remember me, the Mischievous Munchkin. I'm still here!"

"Sorry Matilda, we did sort of go on a bit, didn't we?" RJ apologized. Handing me my PDA he asked, "Have you figure out how to upload your active data to the network?"

"Do you care which server I store my files on?" I asked with a smile.

"MATILDA!" RJ cautioned.

Of course, that question was to throw him off, "Relax, I wouldn't use that server," I giggled.

'I didn't plan on storing my research on any of the schools servers. I know that I need to back up my research. I really have my choice of any computer on campus; the question is where? I don't want my research to be discovered accidentally. I’ve already set up a transfer path to several different systems, where no one would think of looking for my files. The question now is which one to use.'

After I’d made up my mind, I made couple of unique keystrokes. A few milliseconds later, all of my research files and custom programming had been copied into an encrypted file, under administrator applications on the computer in Beca's room. The basic application data went to the main server, where all of the PDA images are stored. A couple more keystrokes and all of the data on my PDA was overwritten with apparently random characters, twice.

"All done," I announced with a smile, handing RJ the wiped PDA. Janice had finished with hers about the same time. I giggled to myself as I wondered what kind of secret data she might be hiding.

RJ started with Janice. He accessed the PDA configuration file for her, entering his access code. Next, he entered the activation code from the new PDA. Lastly, he had Janice enter her personal code into the PDA and then press her thumb on the center of the PDA's screen.

"There you are Janice, the very latest in personal computing," RJ smiled as he finished configuring her new PDA to link with our system. "There's an instruction manual built in to explain how to use the new features. And now Matilda lets get your new PDA configured."

"Hey, these have a built in phone," Janice squealed.

"Yes, that is one of the new features. Keep looking, there are other enhancements," RJ replied.

"That's so cool, who can we call?" Janice bubbled.

"They're tied to the school's server, so you can call anyone here that has this model," RJ confessed.

"And just how many of this model PDA are there?" I asked.

"At this time, there are four. You two, myself, and Kimberley. She'll be picking up hers later today."

"You know RJ, you're just a little bit of a meanie sometimes," Janice complained.

"Why on earth would you say that?" he asked.

"You take your average teenage girl, that would be me. You give her her first cell phone, that would be these PDA's. And I can't even call and talk with my closest friends? Now in my book, that's just plain mean." Janice moaned very melodramatically.

RJ was practically laughing out loud. I was giggling because of the way Janice carried on, but I didn't see her problem. My closest friend is Mary Beth and, outside of my time with RJ, I'm with her almost all the time.

"You may be a lot of things, Janice, but average is certainly not one of them.," RJ added with another chuckle.

I'd been standing next to RJ as he set up Janice's PDA. As RJ started configuring my new PDA I took a step back and I did something that was a bit out of character, I stuck my hands in my pockets. When RJ entered his access code for my PDA configuration file, the screen went blank except for a blinking display,

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * ACCESS DENIED * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"I must have entered it wrong," RJ mumbled. I took another step back.

After carefully entering his access code and seeing the 'access denied' screen again, RJ turned to look at me. I took another step back and pulled my right hand out of my pocket.

"Matilda, do you have anything you’d like to tell me?" RJ questioned.

I respond by handing him a piece of paper.

"What's this? he asked.

"The access code," I replied timidly.

Janice shrieked, almost in shock, "You hacked RJ's access code?"

RJ looked like steam was going to come out his ears.

My eyes locked onto RJ's, "Well, you threw down the gauntlet. You gave me the challenge," I professed, defending my actions.

It was several moments before RJ's scowl slowly changed into a smile, with a little chuckle thrown in for good measure. "I guess I did at that. So how many codes did you change?"

"Only mine, and no Janice, I didn't crack his code, that would be impossible. Have you watched when he keys it in? His hands are all over the keyboard. He uses upper case, lower case, numeric, and punctuation, there's no way to crack that type of code. I figured it would be easier to replace it than to crack it, ... and it was."

"We'll discuss this later, young lady. Put your thumb here please," RJ stated, holding out my new PDA.

Janice and I left after RJ finished with my PDA. Once we were alone, she pushed me gently against a wall, then looked both ways to make sure we were alone before speaking. "I probably shouldn't say this … but congratulations. I've never seen RJ admit to having presented a challenge, at least not so quickly."

"So, you're saying I did good?"

"Yes Munchkin, you did very good."

We talked for a few minutes, mostly about how I work my way through computer code. I also found out why Janice hadn’t been part of the crowd around the table at the Halloween Ball. She had been was on stage as part of the band.

The rest of the day held no surprises, but no announcements either. It had been two full days since Dr. Harris had taken the blood samples. The hardest part about waiting … is waiting. The most frustrating part of not knowing ... is not knowing, and having everyone treating you like it's going to be bad news.

**********

Wednesday morning, and still no news about my blood tests.

‘If this keeps up, I may skip classes and go wait in Dr. Harris's office.’

This was the third day of waiting, and the silence in the year lounge was almost unbearable. Everyone knew how important the test results were and I was getting more depressed and frustrated with each passing minute.

We went to breakfast, silently. I don't even know if Mr. Peterson had any announcements. What's more, I don't think I'll remember anything from Rusty's French lesson. RJ sent me to talk to Ellen because I couldn't think or concentrate. I never made it to Ellen's office, I just wandered around the grounds for about an hour before stumbling into Mary Beth.

"What are you doing here?" I mumbled.

"Looking for you."

"Why?"

"Because I care about you."

"Why would you want to care about ... Hey, where's your wheelchair?"

"You're finally awake I see," Mary Beth giggled, as she put an arm around me. "It's in the lounge. Come on, let's get moving. It's cold out here, or hadn't you noticed?"

"Not really. Where are we going?"

"Back to the lounge. Were you planning on going someplace else?"

"I was thinking about going to see Dr. Harris."

"Really? Well, you're going to need some warmer clothes and some snow boots if you're planning a trek like that."

"What are you talking about? The hospital is on the other end of the school."

"True, but Dr. Harris is in Ogden."

"And how do you know where ..."

"Ellen told me, just before she told me where to find you. She's waiting for us in the year lounge, along with the rest of the Black Sheep."

"What do you mean, waiting for us?"

"Listen, all I know is that Ellen wants to talk to you. She asked Jenny and Aaron if she could do so in the lounge and they said yes. So stop standing and start walking, or I'll have George come for you with the wheelchair."

"All right, all right … I'm moving. You don't have to threatening me."

I really wasn't in a mood to move very fast, but each time Mary Beth tugged on my arm she moaned a little. That was enough to keep me moving at the speed she desired. My life might be miserable, I may have a disease that will slowly kill me, but I sure didn't want to cause her any more pain.

'I wonder what Dr. Harris will say about Ellen sending Mary Beth across campus without her wheelchair? Of course, it's mostly level ground and an easy walk, with no stairs. I guess a little walking wouldn't be any harder on her than our time in the pools.'

As we entered the lounge we were greeted in the usually manner.

“Look who finally decided to join us.”

"What took you so long?"

"I always said you two are the slowest ..."

The usual heckling came to an abrupt end when they saw the agony on my face and tears starting to run down my cheeks.

Ellen approached me from behind. "I've been waiting for you."

Turning to face her, I sniffled before replying, "M … Mary Beth said you wanted to see me?"

Ellen knelt down and wiped my eyes with her handkerchief as she spoke, "Matilda, do you know the saying 'It's always darkest before the dawn'?"

"Y, Yes, I've heard it before," I replied, wondering how much darker it could get, what kind of bad news she was preparing me for.

"The last few days have been pretty dark, haven't they?"

I nodded and sniffled again, preparing myself for more bad news.

"Well my dear, the sun has just poked its nose above the mountains to the east." Ellen smiled as she presented to me a piece of paper.

"W … What's this?"

"This, Matilda, is the sunshine to drive the darkness out of your heart and soul."

"Y, You mean ..."

"Yes Matilda, the test results have finally come back. You're completely clean; there's no HIV, there's no trace of any sexually transmitted disease whatsoever. There was nothing in your blood that a ten-year-old shouldn't have; outside of being a little anemic."

I stood and looked at the paper in my hands for a moment, looked at Ellen's smiling face and started crying again. I dropped the paper and threw my arms around Ellen's neck.

'I made a little discovery; crying when you're happy isn't as hard on you as crying when you're in agony.'

"I wanted to be the one to tell you." Ellen smiled as she pulled back, holding me on her lap.

I saw love in her eyes, almost the same as I knew from Mom's, and I smiled for the first time in days. ‘When did we move to a couch, and how did I get on Ellen's lap?’ I wondered. When they saw my smile, everyone started chattering and cheering, it was almost deafening, but it was wonderful to know how many friends cared about me.

The rest of the day was ... oh, there's no way to describe it! I was happy again, cheerful and glad to be alive. Shoot, I might have even sounded good at afternoon choir practice ... well ... only maybe.

After dinner, we were all in the lounge. Mary Beth, along with the help of several others, was trying to teach me the French lesson that I'd spaced out on earlier. Disturbing all the conversations was a sharp knocking at the door. It sounded familiar, but I wasn't positive who it was. Peggy, being closest to the door, greeted Mr. Peterson and invited him into our lounge.

"Thank you for seeing me without any prior notice," Mr. Peterson started off.

"Not a problem, Mr. Peterson, you're always welcome here," Aaron announced.

Mr. Peterson sat in one of the overstuffed chairs before he started, "First, I'd like to tell Matilda how happy the staff and I are about her good news, and that we share her joy. Second, and the reason for my visit, I would like to explain to you some of the customs and traditions that will be observed during the upcoming holiday seasons. Next week, about half a dozen Christmas decoration catalogues will be left for you to look through. Each of you are invited to pick an ornament to hang on the student’s tree, in the cafeteria. This will be your ornament. Select something that will be special and meaningful to you. There is no rush in selecting your ornament, take your time and if you don’t find what you want, let me know and I’ll arrange for more catalogues. Remember, this is your ornament; you will keep it in your room after Christmas and take it with you each year as you change dorm rooms. Are there any questions?"

"Is that tree the only decoration?"

"What about decorating the rest of the school?"

"What about presents?"

"What about Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve?"

"Do we exchange gifts with each other?"

"How about Christmas lights?"

"What about Christmas dinner, do they serve anything special?"

"Yeah, do they put lights up around the school?"

"Can we have wine with our Christmas dinner? I did at home. That would make this feel more like home."

"Do we go home to see our families?"

When I heard that question, I looked at Mary Beth, to discover that, she was already looking at me. There were tears in her eyes, and I could see her lips were pulled up tight, forcing a smile. I smiled back as I took her hand in mine, giving it an extra little squeeze.

"Hey, what about Thanksgiving?"

"That's right, Thanksgiving comes before Christmas. What about Thanksgiving?"

"Is there a special dinner?"

"How about wine with our Thanksgiving dinner?"

"Do we have to dress up, or is it casual?"

Mr. Peterson was laughing and waving his arms. Once everyone was quiet he continued, "I asked for that, didn't I? I should know better than to ask that question in here. That's quite a list of questions." He was still chuckling. "The question of wine being served for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner is out of the question. This is a school, after all. As for the rest of those questions, did anyone write them down or record them?"

"Matilda!" someone shouted.

"Yeah, ask Matilda, she'll remember them all."

Suddenly all the eyes in the room were on me, gee I hate that. After all, my best skill is rummaging around the innards of a computer. My second best skill is hiding, definitely not being the center of attention.

Softly I repeated the first question.

"Oh my, no! There will be decorations all over the school. After breakfast on November twenty-sixth everyone will be divided up into teams of five, mixing students from different years. Each team will be assigned an area of the school to decorate. It's always a fun time for everyone, helping with the decorations. It’s also a pleasing experience to walk around after all the decorations are up, looking at the different styles and ideas.

"That covered two questions," I explained softly, before I repeated the third.

"Presents? Now that’s an interesting and complicated question. Actually, I believe there were several questions along the same theme. Let me start out by telling you that the school will give each of you a charm bracelet. Like your tree ornament, you will keep these in your room. As for gifts to and from each other, I’m afraid that this is very limited. Again, catalogs will be provided and you will be allowed to select a charm to go on your study partner’s charm bracelet. There will be a card shop set up in the theater lobby where you can select and send cards to the other members of your year or to anyone else you wish.

"As for your parents and siblings; normally we have our students do this type of shopping online. However, last year we experimented and allowed years G and H go into Salt Lake in small groups to do their shopping. That seemed to work out well for those students, with no unforeseen difficulties. So this year we're arranging for everyone to enjoy a small excursion to do a little shopping, some into Salt Lake, some will go to Ogden, and some will go to Provo. Your purchases will be brought back here, where wrapping material will be provided. They will be shipped out in time to be delivered to your families, before Christmas. Because of our trip to Canada just before Christmas, the shopping trips are being planed for the week after Thanksgiving; we'll have more details later."

After several moments of silence, I assumed that Mr. Peterson had finished. I then repeated the question concerning religious services.

"Oh yes, the Christmas Eve church services. The schedule for our trip puts us back here the morning of the twenty-fourth. Therefore, the customary Christmas services for the denomination of your choice will go on as planned," Mr. Peterson affirmed.

"There were two questions asking about Christmas lights. You didn't mention if lights were part of the decorations or not," I asked, feeling just a bit more confident.

"Sorry, there will be lights on the tree in the cafeteria, as well as the tree in and around the theater's lobby. As for lights on or around the buildings, I'm afraid not. There are too many buildings on campus to decorate all of them; also with the amount of snow on the roofs it wouldn't be safe for anyone to be up there."

“There were also two questions about the meals that will be served for both Thanksgiving and Christmas." I again combined two questions into one.

"On both accessions the usual split between the years is ignored, and we all dine together. Granted, that's pushing the seating in the cafeteria to its limits. The dinners will be served buffet style, with the buffet tables set up in the hall outside the cafeteria. As for the menus, I haven't been informed as of yet, although, roast turkey is usually part of the Thanksgiving menu. And as I said before, under no circumstances will wine be on the menu."

"There was one question asking if formal dress would be required, I'm assuming that was referring to the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners."

"Well, both are special occasions and both warrant something special, don't you think? Yes, we dress formally for both occasions."

I hesitated asking the last question, because I knew the answer. However, omitting it would have looked suspicious. Since I was still holding Mary Beth's hand, I squeezed it slightly as I repeated the question, "Do we go home for the holidays?"

Mr. Peterson looked at me a little strangely for a moment, as if I were asking that question. Looking up and addressing everyone, "I believe it was explained to everyone that this is a year round school and that you don’t go home for holidays. That's one of the reasons that you will be two to three years ahead of your peers from the other, more traditional, schools. Was that all the questions, Matilda?"

"All except mine ... I've heard rumors about giving toys away and singing Christmas Carols. Are there any truth to these rumors?"

'Actually I found all the information on the main server and I was looking for a way to make it public without giving away the fact that I've still been roaming the servers.'

"Yes Matilda, there is some truth to those rumors. You see, Christmas is a time of blessings and a time of giving, and a time when we are blessed when we give to others. The existence of our school isn't publicly known, but we have found some interesting ways to give to the neighboring communities. We have adopted several traditions that allow us to give of ourselves and of our talents, giving happiness and joy to others. For about four days before we leave for Quebec, Mrs. Taylor will break the choir into groups of ten to twelve. She mixes the different voices to create small ensembles. These small groups go sing at the various rest homes and senior citizen centers in the area, singing Christmas carols. Actually the small groups have received almost as many compliments as the full choir."

"Is it just the older students that go?" Em asked.

"Oh no, everyone goes on these short trips, even the orchestra members have a chance to sing. I can't tell you how many groups make how many trips, because I don't make those arrangements, but everyone will go at least once. Sometimes the groups will be treated to dinner at the home or center; those that aren't will stop at a casual restaurant for dinner. Either way, after singing and dinner, the drivers of our vans are free to drive around, looking at and showing off the various Christmas lights and decorations. I've never heard anyone complain about their time away from campus, so I'll assume that everyone has enjoyed their excursion," Mr. Peterson informed us.

"What about the toys?"

"Oh yes, the toys. From December sixth through the eleventh the ballroom will become a toy factory. We'll be making one hundred and fifty stuffed dolls and teddy ..."

"A hundred and fifty!" Someone gasped.

"That's right, one hundred and fifty dolls, and one hundred and fifty teddy bears; along with clothes for all of them. In addition to the stuffed friends, we'll be making small wooden trucks, trains, and airplanes. The week before Christmas all the toys will be distributed to hospitals up and down the Wasatch Front. They're given to the children that will, unfortunately, be spending Christmas in the hospitals."

"Isn't that a lot of toys for a hospital or two?" Deanna asked.

"It might seem like a lot, but it really isn’t when you break it down. You see, there are one hundred and fifty students here. That's one doll and bear produced by each student, along with two out of three of the wooden toys. Now, when you break it down to the fifteen hospitals where the toys are given to the children, that's about ten dolls and bears per hospital; that's not very many. Unfortunately, the number of children that have to spend their holidays hospitalized increases every year."

The room was silent for several moments as everyone considered Mr. Peterson's words.

"Is that enough for all the children?" Abbey softly questioned.

Mr. Peterson smiled broadly, "That's the type of question I like to hear. It shows concern for others that might be in need. Last year we did a hundred of each, but I was notified by our distribution team that they were going to be short. We quickly produced an additional twenty of each. That's why we’re doing one hundred fifty this year."

"Mr. Peterson?"

"Yes Niki."

"Well, we aren't going to be here when the toys are being given away. What will happen if there aren't enough?" She asked softly.

"Yea, it would be terrible if someone got missed because there weren't enough," SueAnn proclaimed.

"What would you suggest?" Mr. Peterson inquired. I could tell by the look on his face that he knew where the conversation was going.

It was several moments before anyone spoke. "I think, what they are trying to suggest is that we should make more than the one hundred fifty," Jenny answered, joined by many others nodding their agreement.

Mr. Peterson thought for a moment before asking, "And just how many more do you suggest we make?"

There was some general mumbling from around the room, but nothing specific, until Tony spoke, "If the school made one hundred last year, and needed an additional twenty, that's an increase of twenty percent. Assuming the same rate of increase, twenty percent above last years one - twenty would be an additional twenty-four, which rounds nicely to the proposed one hundred and fifty. However, as it’s been pointed out that doesn't allow for any unexpected requests or needs. I think we should add an additional twenty percent above the one - fifty, making the goal one hundred eighty."

It's a good thing that Mr. Peterson was sitting down, or from the shocked look on his face he would have falling down. "You're teasing me, right? Tell me that you're just teasing."

"Well, you've only given us the quantity produced last year and the proposed quantity for this year to work with," Tony explained. "Based on those numbers, I believe my estimate is correct."

"This isn't exactly how I expected this conversation to turn out," Mr. Peterson conceded, as he got up and made his way to the door. "But I will pass on your recommendations. Before I leave, are there any other ... hold it, I'm not asking that question again … even I can learn from my mistakes. IF you have, any other questions send me a note. I'll do my best to answer all of them. But for now, I'll bid you adieu."

Mr. Peterson was laughing as he left the lounge, as were most of us. True to form, the Black Sheep had got away with out-foxing their superior.

"Well, that was fun," Wally chuckled.

George agreed, "Yeah, I've never seen Mr. Peterson so shocked."

"Fun or not, do you realize what we've done?" Barb asked. When no one volunteered an answer she continued, "We've created more work for everyone. The rest of the school is going to be mad at us."

"We'll just remind them who the toys are for. That should shut them up," Wally offered bluntly.

"After all," SueAnn added, "how would you feel if you were the hundred and fifty-first child, and they were one short?"

"Yes, well, we only made the recommendation," Aaron reminded. "It's up to someone else to make the decision. As for recommendations, I recommend that we get to choir practice before Mrs. T sends out a search party looking for us."

Aaron was right of course, the whole year was late and out of breath when we arrived in the theater.

That night after choir practice, Mary Beth and I had another long talk. I told her that I'd found the information about the toys and the singing trips two days before on one of the schools servers. We also talked about the information I’d found concerning Bart and his family. The surprising part about the information from the district attorney's computer system, was that there were never any charges filled, not a single complaint had been followed up on. It was as if the district attorney's office had been forbidden to act on any of the complaints. That meant I still had more research to do. How could I stop Bart from hurting the other kids? Reluctantly we agreed that any attempt to resolve the problem through normal legal channels would be futile. What I thought was going to be the end of the road, had turned out to be a dead end. We concluded that I'd have to work on plan "B", that is, dig into the Roberts family and their past. Perhaps there would be something or someone there that would give me a clue as to how to protect the friends we left behind. I wondered if I would have to come up with a plan “C”?

* * * To Be Continued * * *

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