NOOOO!!!
Not that!
You can’t do that to me!

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 12

By Penny Reed Cardon

Mr. Peterson gestured towards the chairs in front of his desk, as he went around and sat behind his desk, "Please have a seat, Matilda."

‘Something happened to me as I came through that door. I don’t know what it was, but when I was outside with my friends, I was nervous and scared. Now that I’m in Mr. Peterson's office I’m no longer scared, still a bit nervous perhaps, but not scared. It must be because of the last time I was here, and the knowledge that Mr. Peterson and I share a secret.’

Without the reluctance I’d felt the last time I had been offered that chair, I gracefully sat in the offered chair, folding my hands neatly in my lap, as Miss Adams taught me. With my head held high, I calmly awaited my fate.

"Well Matilda, that was quit an interesting little prank. I'm a little surprised that you would do such a thing. Would you like to tell me how you managed to pull it off?"

"Would you like the detailed version that RJ will require? Or would you prefer a simplified version?" I calmly inquired.

I think Mr. Peterson was in shock. I didn't know if it was because I was calm and confident, when I should have been timid and nervous, or because I’d asked him to define what he wanted.

He stared at me for what seemed like forever, with a blank expression on his face. He finally asked for the simplified version.

'I suppose he’d been waiting for me to crack.'

After explaining how I’d performed my little feat of computer magic, I felt compelled to make a correction to Mr. Peterson's first statement, "And I'd like to add one more thing sir, just for the record. What I did was not intended as a prank."

"You're telling me that this wasn't a prank, a caper, an escapade, a means of getting attention, or simply a way of showing off?."

It was my turn to wear a blank expression, but only for a moment. Calmly I replied, "That’s correct. It wasn't a prank, a caper, or an escapade. No, I wasn't trying to gain any attention for myself or anyone else, and although it may have appeared that way, the idea of 'showing off' never crossed my mind."

"Really? Well, please enlighten me Matilda. Why would you go to all the work of routing the choir's rehearsal to the far corners of this campus?"

"Why? ... For the benefit of those who make the choir's existence possible."

"WHAT?"

“Mr. Peterson, how many people are there here at the Manor, besides the students?”

“Well, umm, I’m not sure what diff …”

“There are a number of psychiatrists and counselors, then there are the teachers, as well as a small administrative staff, correct? However, behind the scenes there are a lot of other people that are needed to make sure everything here works smoothly. There’s the kitchen staff, the people that take care of the laundry, people that take care of the grounds and buildings, and let’s not forget security. Mr. Peterson, when the school goes on field trips, only the few that go along have the privilege of hearing the choir sing. I thought it would be nice if all the others were able to enjoy our choir. You do think that the choir sounds good, don’t you?”

"Yes, of course they sound good. Our choir has a reputation as one of the top school choirs across the globe. They have performed for the leaders of a dozen countries. We've even ... Wait a second, we're here to discuss you and your tampering with the schools systems. Just how did you get me talking about the choir, anyway?" Mr. Peterson looked confused for a moment before he continued, "Nice try, Matilda. I'll give you a B+ on that one, it almost worked. Getting back to the business at hand, tell me, when did you first come up with this plan of yours?"

"Last night, during our evening rehearsal."

"How long did it take to synchronize everything?"

"Oh let's see," I mumbled while looking out Mr. Peterson's office window, "a little time last night, some more this morning, and a little more during that break, and then finishing up before lunch." Looking back into his eyes, "All together I'd say about twenty-five minutes."

"About twenty-five minutes all on your own, nobody helped you with anything?"

"I believe my estimate is correct, and yes, I did it on my own, no one helped me."

"And no one asked you to do it, made any hints, recommendations or suggestions?"

"No sir."

"Matilda, do you honestly expect me to believe that you acted alone, that no one requested, or in any other way, planted the idea. You accessed several computers and servers, and set up the links for an audio feed in twenty-five minutes? All for the enjoyment of those who may never have heard our choir sing?"

"Yes sir, that's exactly what happened, and yes, I expect you to believe me," I replied. I was starting to become just a little annoyed at having my honesty questioned.

Once more I was involved in a staring contest. I was on the verge of cracking when Mr. Peterson spoke, "Matilda, I think that a one week computer suspension would be an appropriate disciplinary action. May I please have your PDA?"

'I don't believe my ears, I've been honest and up front with him and he's taking away my PDA? ... At least I had enough forethought to off-load my research. I'm not ready for that information to be discovered yet.'

Reluctantly, and with a heavy sigh, I fished my one week old PDA out of my skirt pocket and handed it to Mr. Peterson.

Setting my PDA to the side he continued, "Thank you Matilda. RJ tells me that you keep your promises. I'm asking you to promise me that you will not use any computer until I give you permission to do so. Will you promise?"

'OH NO! You did NOT say that! My ears must be playing tricks on me. I mean ... I've done everything they've asked me to do. Ellen tells me to be the best I can be. RJ's teaching me what I need to know, so I can find a way to stop Bart. I was just trying to do something nice for some people I've never met. I wasn’t looking for praise, or recognition, or even a thank you, but to be punished for trying to do something nice … that's ... that's ...’

I don't know what it is, but it isn't nice, and it isn't the way things are supposed to be. First he takes my PDA, now he wants me to promise not to use any computer. And to top it all off, he’s sitting there with that smug "I've got her over a barrel" look on his face. OF COURSE, he has me over a barrel. After all, what other choice do I have? I guess I could say NO. I'm sure he knows that having RJ lock out my account wouldn't keep me out. What could he do, lock me away someplace; put a twenty-four hour guard on me? ... How do I get myself into these kinds of messes? He's still sitting there, waiting for me to give him an answer. Oh gee wizz . . .'

"Ohhh, all right … I promise. I won't touch any computer until you give me permission," I replied, after shaking my head and a heavy sigh.

"Thank you Matilda. I'm pretty sure I know how hard that was for you. I have one more request to make; will you come back and see me tomorrow at the same time?"

That was it, the last straw broke and I started laughing. After everything that had just happened, he’d taken my PDA, banned me from all computers, and now he wants to see me tomorrow? It suddenly seemed like some Elizabethan comedy and I couldn't stop myself from laughing. Between giggles I managed to answer, "Sure, why not I don't have anything else planned after choir practice tomorrow."

"Excellent, I look forward to visiting with you again. I'm glad to see that you're not upset by this."

"Upset? Why should I be upset? Am I confused? Yes! Am I mixed up? Most definitely! I'm also bewildered and lost, but, am I upset? Of course I'm upset! I just wish I had a clue as to what's really going on around here."

"Now Matilda, you know the old saying; 'Be careful what you wish for, you might get it.' Is there anything else you'd like to say before I release you to your fan club?"

"I have one thing to say and I have a question to ask, if I may?" Mr. Peterson responded with a simple nod. "First, George was correct; he'd warned me that these chairs are not comfortable."

Mr. Peterson’s laughter interrupted me, “I guess George should know. He’s spent more time in those chairs than anyone else in year A. So what’s your question?”

“What did you mean when you said that you’d release me to my fan club?”

“I’m talking about the Black Sheep, of course. Matilda, I’ve had the displeasure of being forced to discipline several members of year A in the past. This is the only time the entire year came along with the student in question. You obviously mean a lot to those nineteen young people. I’ll let you go now. If my intuition is correct they’re outside the door waiting for you.”

I got up and went to the door. Just before turning the knob, I looked back at Mr. Peterson, “Should I be sad or cheerful when I leave?”

“Just be Matilda. Everything else will fall into place.”

“Right. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Oh, Matilda, about tomorrow, you might want to keep it to yourself that we’ll be talking again.”

“And why is that?”

“Quite frankly, I don’t know how it’s going to turn out.”

“How what’s going to turn out?”

“What I need to do between now and then.”

“Mr. Peterson, are you trying to confuse me on purpose, or is it simply a natural talent of yours?”

“My apologies, Starfighter, I mean, Matilda. It’s just that I have something to do between now and our next meeting. I don’t know what the results will be, but it will have a direct relationship upon the outcome of tomorrows meeting.”

‘Now I know of another Science Fiction lover here.’

“Hum, whatever. Is this another secret I have to hide from MayBee?”

“Who’s MayBee?”

“Sorry, that’s a nickname I gave Mary Beth.”

“Oh, no problem. It just took me by surprise; it’s not shown in her student profile.”

“I didn’t know that you kept track of everyone’s nickname.”

“Of course. With this many students, all of whom have a male gender name and a female gender name, as well as nicknames; it can very easily become confusing.”

“I’m beginning to understand. Back to my question, do I need to hide this from Mary Beth?”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ve already asked you to keep enough secrets from your study partner. Just ask her to keep this to herself.”

”I will, and thank you.”

I opened the door to find nineteen pairs of eyes trying to burn a hole in the door. No one uttered a sound; that is, until I was in the hall with the door closed behind me.

"What did he say?"

"Yeah, give!"

"Come on, out with it."

"What sort of punishment did he come up with?"

"Are they going to keep you from the caroling trips?"

The pleas for information continued as I stood looking at my friends.

“Don't just stand there like a statue, say something!" Mary Beth finally pleaded.

I smiled and I stretched out my arms, "My friends, I'm deeply moved by your concern for me ..."

"No long speeches," George interrupted.

I lowered my arms, although I kept the smile.

"Just tell us what Mr. Peterson said!" Wally added.

"Well, he said a lot of things and I said a lot of things." I couldn't resist the temptation to string them along just a bit. "I guess the bottom line is this; George, you were right about those wooden chairs, they aren’t very comfortable. Second ... I’m going to have to ask one of you to keep track of my schedule for the next week."

"Your schedule?" several asked softly.

Mary Beth, with a smile on her face and a tear in her eye, held her hands up to me. I stepped forward and took her hands into mine.

"I don't get it, why would you need one of us to keep track of your schedule?" Morgan asked.

"Because she's been banned from the Manor's computer network," Mary Beth explained, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Banned from the network?" several voices gasped.

"Are they crazy?" George asked.

"Yeah, they can't ban Matilda!" Niki exclaimed, jumping to my defense.

“That's right, they can't ban Matilda, she could get in through any computer," Wally added.

"You can use my computer any time you want," Hope offered.

"Mine too," Howard declared.

As several other offers, for computer and PDA usage, were announced; I waved one hand, silencing my friends. "Mr. Peterson asked me to not use any computer until he says I can. He asked … for my promise." I was quickly feeling the confidence I had in Mr. Peterson's office, slipping away.

"You didn't promise, did you?" Wally asked.

"Of course she didn't," George threw out. "That would be like asking her to ..."

"It would be like asking her to cut off her right hand." Aaron finished.

I couldn't answer my friends; in fact, I was having a hard time looking at them. I looked down into Mary Beth's eyes. She knew me better than anyone else, she saw the look in my eyes and she knew how I'd answered Mr. Peterson.

She answered the question I couldn't. "Yes," Mary Beth called out rather loudly, bringing the chatter to an end. Softly she continued, "Yes she did make a promise. And she will keep her promise, because that’s the kind of girl she is."

She opened her arms and I gently slid onto her lap. She wrapped her arms around me as I cried softly. Mary Beth knew just how right Aaron's statement was; making that promise to Mr. Peterson had been a very hard thing for me to do, and it would be hard on me to keep my promise.

I didn’t realize we were moving until Mary Beth moved her hand to press her thumb on the elevator control. We, that is, all of year A, were a little late getting to the cafeteria for dinner. A hush settled over the room as we entered, as I was still being cradled in Mary Beth's arms. Quietly, the word of my punishment spread throughout the room. Dinner was uneventful, and eating with my friends helped pull me out of the pit of sorrow that surrounded me. After all, it would only be one week. It wasn't like at Whittier, where I had been permanently banned.

By the time Mary Beth and I arrived at Ellen's office for our regular Thursday visit, my mood and outlook had almost completely turned around. The three of us had a good chat and no one had been reduced to tears.

As we arrived for evening choir practice, I was surrounded by a crowd of friends and well wishers. By now everyone had heard of the consequences of my unauthorized spreading of musical cheer. From the enthusiastic responses, I knew that having someone to tell me where to go and what time to be there, wouldn't be a problem.

The only time I felt bad about not having my PDA was during my frequent bathroom breaks. It was during those ten to fifteen minute intervals that I could work on my Bart research. Now all I could do was wonder who Bart was abusing now, and curse myself for having to delay stopping him for a week. I also went over in my mind what I'd learned about Bart, trying to make sense out of the conflicting data.

Our nightly routine of scriptures and prayers completed, Mary Beth and I talked for a while. Mostly we talked about my habit of rushing off into the fog to help someone, only to get lost myself.

"You know Munchkin, if you would talk with me about your brilliant plans before you put them into action, we might be able to avoid some of these cliffs you keep jumping off."

"You're right of course; it's just that ... it always seems like the right thing to do, so I never question whether I should or shouldn't."

"Well, right or wrong doesn't matter; I just want us to talk about your ideas first. It might not change anything, but then again we might be able to prevent things like today from happening. Or at least you wouldn't be alone when it comes to facing the music."

"You mean you would stand beside me to take the heat?"

"What else are best friends for?"

"But what about the research I've been doing? Are you saying that we should talk about each step before I make it?"

"I'm not saying that at all. You know that I don't understand what goes on between you and the computers. What I'm trying to say is that if we talk about what you want to do after you've found the information, perhaps we can find a way to get things done without anyone getting into trouble."

"I do seem to step into more of it than the others."

"I'm not sure that 'step into', is the right way of putting it. I think it's more like you jump in with both feet," she teased.

Giggling, I had to agree, "MayBee, maybe you're right, but you have to admit that life around me is never dull."

"You've got that right, life with you certainty isn't dull."

“Mary Beth, may I ask you a question about something else?"

"Sure thing Munchkin, quest away."

"Well ... I was wondering how you really felt about ... Well, about me? I mean, we've been friends for a long time and Ellen matched us up as study partners. But with all the crazy things that have happened since we came to this school, I was just wondering ..."

"What brought this up?" she whispered in my ear.

"Oh, I don't know, just something I've been thinking about. I mean, we usually go to sleep like this, with your arm around me. Sometimes I'm holding you, if you're upset. But with my little problem, not to mention getting into trouble all the time, and the way you got upset the couple of times I kissed your cheek. I was sort of wondering how you really feel about me?"

"Matilda, you're my best friend. Why, if it weren't for you I'd still be at Whittier ..."

"… protecting some other small person from Bart," I finished.

"Probably," she giggled, then added, "The difference is, I wouldn't have any hope of actually saving anyone. But being here with you, and you being able to use your gifts, there's hope for the friends we left behind; even if they don't know it yet. I know that you'll find a way to stop Bart, it's just going to take some time."

"Right, time. Now because I was trying to do something nice here, everyone back home will have to wait another week."

"Dat's what I'm talking about, if you'd talked with me first maybe we could have found a way of doing something nice without getting into trouble. When you wun awound, sorry, run around making plans that I don't know about it's like … well, it’s like you’re keeping secrets from me. Member? No secrets tween study partners," Mary Beth sleepily reminded me.

"Yes, I remember," I replied halfheartedly.

‘This conversation isn’t going the way I wanted. I was trying to find out if Mary Beth feels the same about me, as I think, I feel about her. I mean … I know how I feel about Rachael; I love her, as a sister. And even though I won’t see Mom again after I leave here, I know I love her. But how I feel about Mary Beth is different, along the same lines, just different somehow. I guess I've always felt this way about her. Especially after that fateful day in Liberty Park when she first found out about Matilda. I was so happy that she accepted me for who I am, without any reservations or questions. The funny thing is, it was almost as if she'd always known who I was, even before I did.

‘Instead of finding out how she feels about me, this has turned into me feeling guilty because I am keeping secrets from her. Let me think … did Mr. Peterson make me promise not to tell Mary Beth about Joshua, or was it that I couldn't tell her for security reasons. I know I told him I would keep his secret, but which is more important; being honest with Mary Beth, or being honest with Mr. Peterson ... or being honest with myself? I wonder if there is a way I can be honest with everyone. I'll have to think about that for a bit …',

Almost asleep Mary Beth mumbled, "Was dat all you wan-ned talk bout?"

"Yeah, I guess. Goodnight MayBee."

"Doo nii . . ." she mumbled, as she drifted off into dreamland.

"I was just wondering if you love me," I whispered. Admitting how I feel, more to myself than to my sleeping partner. "I guess this is just another secret for me to keep, my love."

* * * To Be Continued * * *

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