What Maisie Knew: 9. Detention!?

The PA crackled to life, and said, "Will Marcella Donner please report to the principal's office? Marcella Donner to the principal's office."

What Maisie Knew: A Marcie Donner Story, by Kaleigh Way

 
9. Detention!?

 

Monday morning, both mothers drove us to school. Well, Maisie's mother did the actual driving. My mother was a passenger. The woman were chatting away nonstop.

"Look at them! They're just giddy!" Maisie whispered to me. Aloud, in the tone of a mother talking to children, she told them, "Now don't you girls get in any trouble while we're away."

Mom giggled, but Maisie's mother didn't react, aside from a little twitch in her jaw.

"How come Susan didn't come with us?" I asked.

Maisie's mother glanced at me in the mirror before replying. "Her mother's not very social," she sighed. "Lord knows I've tried."

"I hate to agree with my mother," Maisie commented, "but it's true. Susan's mother hardly lets her out of the house. She makes her study all the time. Chinese," she said, as if the last word explained everything.

When I frowned, she explained, "Chinese families have this work ethic, you know? Susan has to get A-plus in everything and go to an Ivy-League school. All work and no play. She has to go straight home after school."

"That doesn't sound so bad," my mother said.

"Maisie, you're giving her ideas!" I cautioned, and made a big-eyed cut it out face. Maisie grinned.

As soon as the car stopped, the two of us barrelled out of the car and ran up the walk before the Moms could get out any last motherly words.

"Oh my God!" I told her. "It's bad enough she wants to send me here..."

"Oh, don't worry," Maisie laughed. "I don't see the Ivy League in your future!"

I stopped and stared at her, and said in a voice full of offended irony, "Oh, thank you very much, Maisie Beale, for that vote of confidence! It's not like you were being rude or anything!"

"I'm just kidding, you goof!" she said with a smile. Then she shouted, "Last one in the door is a rotten egg!"

We were laughing as we fell through the front door, but at the sight of Sister Honororia, we stopped and fell silent. "Good morning, sister," we sang out together.

"Good morning, Margaret, Marcella," she said. "I hope you two weren't tearing up the street like a pair of hooligans." Without waiting for an answer, she added, "Remember: virtuous and lady-like behavior." Then she turned her back to us so she could look down the hallway. Maisie stuck her tongue out.

I grinned until Sister Honororia said, "Keep your tongue inside your head, Margaret."

Maisie frowned, shook her head and gave me a shrug that asked How does she know?

"I know everything that goes on in this school," Honororia replied, still with her back to us.

Maisie gawked at the woman's back, astonished.

"Don't gawk," the nun commanded.

I pulled on Maisie's arm and we left.

"How did she know?" Maisie asked, once we were safely out of earshot.

"There must be a reflection someplace," I said. "We can check on it later."

As we walked into homeroom, a friendly voice called, "Hey, new girl!" It was an Asian girl with long black hair and a nice smile.

"Susan?" I asked. She nodded and held out her hand. We shook.

I made a mental note that girls shook hands sitting down. I'd have to get used to not jumping up.

"Welcome to BYHS," she said as she rolled her eyes.

"Now there's three of us," Maisie said. "We can be a gang."

"Oh, but there's zero tolerance for that!" I quipped.

The three of us sat together, chatting and laughing, while a frumpy, friendly-looking woman unloaded her briefcase onto the teacher's desk. She looked around the room and when her eyes landed on me she waved, smiling. I waved back.

"That's Mrs. Wix," Susan explained. "English teacher, and our homeroom teacher."

The PA crackled to life, and led the entire school in a prayer and the Pledge of Allegiance. Then it said, "Will Marcella Donner please report to the principal's office? Marcella Donner to the principal's office." Mrs. Wix gave me a wry grin, and whispered, "We'll introduce ourselves when you get back."

As I walked through the empty halls, I wondered why I was being called. It couldn't be for running up the walk. If *that* was the problem, Maisie would have been called, too. Then again, maybe there wasn't a problem. Maybe there was some kind of paperwork or forms I had to bring home, just because I was new. Whatever it was, it couldn't be anything bad.

The stairwell and the hallway echoed with the announcements. The last echoes where fading as I entered the principal's outer office. Sister Honororia was waiting at the door of her inner office. She beckoned, and I followed.

"I daresay you know why you're here," she said, after she shut the door and we both sat down.

"No, sister," I replied, and checked my posture. The nun gave me a once-over, but didn't correct anything.

"I am glad to see that you lengthened your skirt," she commented. "Did you do it yourself?"

"Yes, sister. My mother showed me how."

"Good. Cultivate a teachable spirit. Now to the business at hand. You won't be surprised that I know about your exploit at the bank on Friday."

"No, sister."

She nodded. "I asked you to come here so I could tell you that you will have detention for the next two weeks. Normally a student would be expelled or at least suspended for doing what you did, but you're new here, and I want to give you a chance."

I was shocked. I opened my mouth and shut it, and my body twitched several times. Detention?

My first impulse was to protest that I'd did nothing wrong. However, I'd already had *that* argument with my mother — twice — and once with my father. So I waited for my second reaction, which was try to bend without breaking. I swallowed hard and said, "Thank you, sister."

Her mouth worked a little. Had she been hoping for a fight? For a protest? Was she disappointed that I wasn't crushed or angry or upset? She watched me closely, waiting for the faintest hint of battle.

When none came, she licked her lips. "Good then. You can return to class."

When I put my hand on the doorknob, I was struck by an idea. I turned around and asked, "Sister, can I ask your advice on something?"

"Certainly," she said, in a crisp, no-nonsense voice. She was ready to parry any thrust I could possibly give. But I didn't give one.

"What would you have done, if you had been in my position?"

"There at the bank?"

"Yes."

"Yes, sister," she corrected.

"Yes, sister," I repeated.

"Had I been in your predicament," she replied, "I would have prayed for the grace of God." She pursed her lips. "I certainly wouldn't have fought, like a common hooligan. You put yourself and everyone in that bank in great danger by doing that. Especially when you consider that you were wearing your school uniform. That alone should have helped you remember how you need to comport yourself."

I nodded. "Thank you, sister."

"You're welcome, Marcella."


"WHAT!?" Maisie shouted, when I returned to class and told her and Susan. Then, in a lower voice, "Detention!?"

"Maisie?" Mrs. Wix said.

"Sorry, Mrs. Wix." Maisie replied. "I was just surprised by something."

Mrs. Wix nodded, as if she didn't mind.

Maisie silently mouthed That's insane!

Susan gave me a smile of rueful commiseration.

"Everyone, we have a new student with us today: Marcella — or do you go by 'Marcie'?" I nodded, so she went on, "Marcie Donner, who just moved here from California. I guess you came for the snow, which is pretty early this year, hmm? Please make her welcome, girls."

I smiled and gave a little wave as I looked around the room. I was surprised to see that maybe three-quarters of the girls were Black. I guess I'll see what it's like to be in the minority, I said to myself.

Mrs. Wix picked up a book and said, "Today we'll start off with one of my favorites," and her fingers dug into the pages just in front of a tasseled bookmark.

I silently sighed to myself. It was strange that here I was, starting out again, my first day at school, with two weeks of detention. I thought about what the nun had said, about not fighting. There was no way I could do that. Honestly, being expelled from BYHS seemed like a small price to pay for staying alive.

© 2007 by Kaleigh Way



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