Now what am I supposed to I do?

I've lost my best friend!

- - -

and my love!

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 15

By Penny Reed Cardon

I can't ... I can't ... I can't ... I can't . . .

"Matilda ... Matilda, come out of it Matilda."

I can't ... I can' ... I can't ... I can't . . .

"Come on Matilda, hear my voice Matilda. Listen to the sound of my voice. Come with me Matilda, come back with me."

I can't ... I can't ... I can ... I can ... I ... I ... I . . .

"That's it Matilda, listen to my voice. Come on, you're almost here, Matilda. Just a little bit further, that's it ..."

I … I … I … I . . . I . . .

I blinked. Then I blinked again. The third time I opened my eyes I saw Ellen's face in front of me. The fourth time I blinked the year lounge came into focus, it was empty. I didn't know exactly what had happened, but for some reason I was relieved to be alone with Ellen.

"Matilda, are you with me? Do you hear me?"

"Yes Ellen, I hear you. What happened?"

"How many fingers am I holding up?" she asked.

I was still somewhat foggy about what was going on, but there were what appeared to be three fingers in front of my nose, with Ellen’s face just behind and to the left. Everything was very blurry, being so close. If I focused on the wall behind Ellen and not on her fingers they weren't so blurry, but there appeared to be six. I remembered a line from some movie, 'don't focus on the problem; you have to look past the problem in order to see the solution.' Smiling, I replied, "I see six fingers and … you have four eyes."

Ellen smiled as she lowered her hand and moved back just a bit. "I guess I was a bit close. How many eyes do I have now?"

"That’s better, now you only have two eyes. Speaking just for myself, I find that two eyes do a good job of filling my needs, and my head," I giggled.

"Very good, I agree with you when it comes to only needing two eyes. Now then, can you tell me what happened this evening?"

"I'm not really sure. The last thing I remember I was in the restroom, sitting in one of the stalls ..." I nervously ran my hand over my skirt, from my knee to my hip. Noting that my panties were not where I last remembered them being, but rather, they were where they belonged. Telling me that someone else had …

Ellen, seeing my action and apparent nervousness tried to calm me, saying, "I'm told that Hope and Misa helped out in that department."

I wasn't sure that Ellen's statement had the effect she thought it would. Instead of being relieved, I was blushing with embarrassment as I hung my head.

"Matilda, don't be embarrassed. Be grateful that you have friends who care about you. I'm certain neither of them will say a word about what went on in the restroom, to you or anyone else.” She paused for a moment. I guess to let me think about what she’d said. “Now then, can we talk about what happened this evening that caused you to require my services?"

I slowly looked up, as Ellen patiently waited for me to speak. "Well, it started out okay, I mean the evening started out about the same as any other. MayBee and I were talking with the rest of the year. Then she went to the restroom and Jenny sat next to me, taking my hand. Umm, how much do you know about Jenny?"

"I know she senses people's emotions."

"With most people she only senses their emotions, for some reason, it's a little different with me."

"Really! ... Please go on, how is it different?"

"For some reason, when Jenny holds my hand she can almost read my mind. Well, it’s not exactly reading my mind, but somehow her ability to put words to my emotions is pretty accurate, she’s so accurate it's almost scary."

"That's interesting. Who else have you told about this?"

"Um, you're the first to know about it, outside of the Black Sheep."

"I'll make a note to discuss it with Kathy Ray. Now, shall we get back to what happened this evening."

"Anyway, Jenny sat down and asked me when I was going to tell Mary Beth. I was shocked when she said it; even though I was pretty sure I knew what she meant. At the same time, I was afraid to confirm her suspicion. Then Jenny told me that I was ... well, that I was in love with Mary Beth … and … and I needed to tell her. We talked until MayBee came back from the restroom. I sort of fibbed to her about what Jenny had said. I mean, I can't tell MayBee that I love her-"

"Why not?" Ellen interrupted.

"Well ... because … because she doesn't feel the same way about me," I finally blurted out.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm pretty sure. I've tried to talk with her a couple of times. She only thinks of us as ... good friends."

"Are you sure that what you feel for her is love?"

"I think so. How I feel about MayBee is ... well, it’s hard to describe. It's kind of the same as how I feel about my Mom and Rachael, only ... it's different somehow.”

“What do you mean, different?”

“I don’t know … stronger I guess, with more of a need to be with her. I mean, I'm sitting here talking with you, but in my mind, I see Mary Beth. I can tell you which shampoo she used this morning by the fragrance of her hair, which outfit she's wearing, what she likes for breakfast, which side of the bed she likes ... oops."

"Well, from your last statement and from the way you're blushing, I'll assume the two of you have continued sleeping together, as you did while you were at Primary Children's. May I ask if you've been obeying the school rules?"

I'm sure my face was lit up brighter than Rudolph's nose. Even though, I was having a hard time forming coherent words, I nodded emphatically. Indicating that we'd always kept our clothes on while in each other’s presence.

"Very well, enough said on that subject. Please continue with your explanation of the events of this evening, before you went into the restroom."

I slowly related the rest of what had transpired that evening. I tried to fill in as many details as I could, without giving away too many of my imposed secrets. It was difficult talking with Ellen, while trying to avoid saying anything about Joshua, or Mr. Peterson's edict, to keep that information from Ellen and from Mary Beth. I guess I didn’t do a very good job of it, in the end, Ellen seemed to know I was keeping many secrets from Mary Beth, and she wasn't happy with me.

"All right Matilda, it’s appears to me that you’ve gotten a lot of conflicting messages, from different sources. That's the best explanation I can think of, for what could have triggered what appears to have been an ‘obsessive compulsive fit’. For you to be having this type of fit is odd, being that you haven't shown any other symptoms."

I tilted my head to one side. Ellen must have realized that I didn't understand, so she continued. "You have a mental war going on inside your head. You know you shouldn't be keeping secrets from Mary Beth, but you're doing it anyway. This situation and the subsequent problems appear to be growing with each passing day. I'm going to give you two options. First, tonight, in the privacy of your rooms, you are to tell Mary Beth everything, and I mean … everything. Your second option is this, the two of you will come to my office tomorrow morning, and then you can tell her everything."

"But … I can't," I moaned sadly, my chin was again resting on my chest. "I was told not to tell her ..."

"WHAT! You were told to keep things from Mary Beth? BY WHOM?"

I spent what seemed like an hour studying the pattern in the carpet, without offering an answer.

"Matilda, I can't help you if you won't trust me. Please tell me, who told you to keep secrets from Mary Beth?"

'That's the second time in one day that I've had someone here tell me that they want me to trust them. The question I have to ask myself is, which one has earned my trust? Ellen has certainly done more than anyone else to help me, and Mary Beth; at least more than anyone outside of our mothers. … That is, before Mrs. Phelps learned that Matilda used to be Matt. Aside from that, I guess Ellen has done more to earn my trust. The problem is, I know things that she doesn't know, and according to Mr. Peterson I can't tell her either. So how am I going to resolve this problem - I don't know. I don’t think this is one I can solve by myself.’ I took a deep breath and slowly shook my head. ‘I guess I'll have to trust Ellen, at least with a name.'

I slowly looked up into Ellen's eyes, those same eyes that shown me a mother's love once before; when my life was falling apart. The love was still there, but today the look was different; a little anger mixed with disappointment, but still love.

"Mr. Peterson," I whispered, barely audibly.

"What did you say?"

"I inadvertently came across some classified information. Mr. Peterson told me that it was important that I keep it to myself, the security of the school was at stake."

"Mr. Peterson told you to ... Matilda, according the grapevine, your PDA has a phone built in, is that correct?" I nodded in reply. "Would you be so kind as to dial Mr. Peterson's office and let me speak to him?"

I looked up the number, dialed, and handed my PDA to Ellen. She stood and started pacing, while waiting for Mr. Peterson to answer.

"I'm sorry no, it's Ellen. I've borrowed Matilda's PDA. Do you have a few minutes? Something has come up that requires immediate attention."

"No sir, I'm afraid this can't wait until morning," she replied firmly.

"I am aware of the hour, Gregory. This should only take a few minutes of your time.” Ellen’s use of Mr. Peterson’s first name along with her tone of voice told me she was more than just a little put out by Mr. Peterson’s reluctance to see her.

"That will be fine. I'll be there in five minutes."

Ellen handed me my PDA. "Matilda, would you please accompany me to Mr. Peterson's office?"

"Umm, yes, I guess so. I suppose it's me you're going to talk about."

"We'll be discussing you indirectly; the real discussion will be concerning Mr. Peterson instructing students to do things that are contrary to established school rules and policies."

"I take it you two have had this discussion before?"

"Not exactly, but he does know better." Ellen’s statement didn’t answer the question directly, but she did hint at an affirmative answer.

We talked socially, as we made our way to the administration building. The doors of the auditorium must have been open as we heard the choir, when we arrived on the second floor.

"Matilda, would you wait out here until I ask you to come in," Ellen asked, as we arrived outside Mr. Peterson's office. I stood where I wouldn't be seen as Ellen boldly strode into his office, without knocking.

As I waited, not exactly patiently, I could hear raised voices from within the office. I couldn't make out what was being said but it must not have been a pleasant conversation. After about ten minutes, the door opened and Ellen invited me to join them.

"Good evening Matilda," Mr. Peterson somberly greeted me as I entered, from behind his desk.

"Hello Mr. Peterson. I’m sorry if I’ve caused more problems," I replied.

"On the contrary, Matilda, YOU haven’t caused any problem. Apparently, it’s I that owe you an apology. I didn't realize that requesting you keep certain information to yourself would have caused you problems. You're obviously much more sensitive than the others-"

"WHAT!" Ellen interrupted. "What others? Are you telling me that you've told other students to hide things from their study partners?"

Mr. Peterson continued, after a short pause, "Matilda, it seems you're not the only one that's having a hard time keeping secrets this evening. Yes Ellen, there have been several students over the last couple of years that have been in Matilda's position. That is, they'd discovered things that were a matter of school security and were subsequently requested to not tell anyone what they'd learned; not even their study partner."

’Did I hear what I thought I heard? “There have been several students…” That means that he lied to me, he said that there were only three who knew about Joshua. Now I know there are more.’

Ellen was obviously upset by this new information, "Well, I suppose we'll have to deal with that later. Right now I suggest we take care of Matilda's issues."

"As you wish,” he nodded towards Ellen. Turning back to face me, he continued, “Matilda, do you remember what I told you could happen if the information you possess were to become public?"

"Yes, I remember," I replied quietly.

There was another short pause before Mr. Peterson continued, while he and Ellen exchanged what appeared to be visual daggers. "As much as I disapprove of Ellen's demand, I retract the request I made during your first visit to my office. You may tell Mary Beth everything you know; but ... ONLY Mary Beth, no one else!” He emphasized his last statement. “You must also be sure she knows the potential consequences of that information becoming public knowledge. Do you understand?"

Nodding, I replied, "I understand, and thank you sir.” I paused, taking a deep breath. “You don't know how hard it's been these last few weeks. MayBee knows that something has been bothering me and I think she knows I’ve been hiding something from her.” My next deep breath sounded almost like a sigh. Thinking aloud, “It'll be good to not have to hide this from her anymore.”

"Very well, is there anything else?" Mr. Peterson asked, in general.

"Do you have anything else you'd like to discuss, Matilda?" Ellen asked.

"No. I don't think so."

"I too am satisfied with the outcome of this meeting," Ellen agreed.

"In that case, good evening." Mr. Peterson's invitation to leave was NOT exactly friendly.

. . . . . .

"As choir practice is almost over, I'll leave you here." Ellen said as we paused outside the auditorium. "I know that Mary Beth and the rest of the year are very concerned about you."

"Thank you Ellen ... for everything."

"You're welcome. Matilda, as your psychiatrist I can overrule any rule or instructions you’re given, as long as it’s in your best interest. So, next time you have a problem, come see me and we'll work it out before you go to pieces. I don't like getting called after the puzzle is scattered around the room, it's harder to put the pieces back together that way."

Giggling, I replied, "I'll try to remember that."

‘I wonder if she was trying to lighten the mood or lift my spirits. Oh well, whatever it was, I guess she succeeded.’

"Matilda, I'm guessing that you and Mary Beth have a lot to talk about, so I’ll send Rusty a note letting him know you might not be in class tomorrow morning. Um, about the first subject we discussed, this evening. I think you and I should talk some more, before you discuss it with Mary Beth."

'Can you look relieved and blush at the same time? I don't know if it's possible but that's how I must have looked. Ellen was giggling at the obvious confusion in my expressions.'

"All right, enough of that. Get in there with the rest of the students." Ellen chuckled, as she opened the stage door. "You should probably wait in the shadows until practice is over, that way your entrance won't cause a distraction."

‘I’m not sure why Ellen had suggested I hide until practice is over. I mean really, how much of a distraction would I be? I'm just Matilda, the smallest student here.’

Taking Ellen's advice, I stayed behind the black curtains, on the side of the stage. Listening to the music reminded me, that I need to get the rest of the programming information for the PA system from RJ.

Practice ended and as usual, Mrs. T had a few items to go over to make the choir sound better. After she dismissed everyone, I slowly walked out from behind the curtains.

"Hey look, it's Matilda!" Someone called out.

It took about half a second for about forty of my fellow students to surround me, with questions coming at me faster than I could think.

'It's a good thing I'm not claustrophobic.'

"Are you all right?"

"What happened?"

"Are you feeling better?"

"Where have you been?"

"Are you in trouble again?"

"You sure you're OK?"

Holding my hands up as I spoke, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. I had a long talk with Ellen and we have everything under control.”

‘At least for now.’

"Did I say anything wrong?" Jenny whispered in my ear.

That one caught my attention. Smiling broadly, I turned to look at Jenny. Shaking my head slightly I whispered, "No."

"Look out world," someone cried out, "the Munchkin's smiling."

Everyone started laughing.

"That's sure to mean trouble for someone." Someone else exclaimed. This was followed by more laughter from the crowding students.

"Nice of you to join us, Matilda," Mrs. T interrupted, causing about half of the crowd to scatter. The only ones to remain were the rest of year A. Mrs. T continued after the scurrying of students died out, "Although you're just a bit late for choir practice."

"I'm sorry Mrs. T. I did hear the last fifteen minutes of practice and your instructions. I was ..."

"It's all right dear; Mary Beth explained everything to me during the break. You sure you're going to be all right?" I nodded in reply, as Mrs. T continued. "Speaking of Mary Beth, where is that girl? I need to speak with her."

"As soon as you dismissed us she ran down the steps and out the main doors." Someone volunteered.

"She’s probably looking for me," I thought aloud.

'Being surrounded by everyone, I suppose I better not use the locator system.'

Extracting my PDA, I dialed Ellen's office.

"Hello Ellen, this is Matilda. Is MayBee there?"

"Hello again, it has been such a long time since we've talked with each other," she answered sarcastically. "No, I haven't seen ...” Over the phone, I heard someone knocking on her door. “... One second, Matilda. … Come in. Well, Mary Beth, what a surprise. We were just talking about you."

"We, we who?" I heard Mary Beth ask.

"Why, Matilda and I of course. She's on the other end of the phone," Ellen informed her.

"Ellen, would you please tell MayBee to wait there, I'll be there in a few minutes, with her wheelchair. And please tell her that if she keeps running, down stairs and around the building, Dr Harris is going to keep her in the wheelchair for another week or two."

"No problem, I'll keep her here until you arrive. Bye now."

"Thanks Ellen, bye."

"Would anyone know where MayBee left her wheelchair?" I asked, generally. A few moments later and with almost no warning, the chair materialized and four pairs of hands helped me sit down. Giggling, along with those around me, "I'll take that as a yes. Shall we go retrieve our runaway friend?"

With laughter, merriment, and a farewell from Mrs. T, we set off in search of a lost little lamb.

Each time we stopped, I tried to get out of the wheelchair and each time my efforts were gently obstructed. After my third attempt to stand and walk with the others, I had to ask, "All right you guys, what's going on? You know that I don't need to be escorted, or chauffeured in this wheelchair. So what's going on?"

"It's really quite simple," Wally started. "We've been talking, and the way we figure it, you and Mary Beth have a pretty good thing going, with your access to all the elevators …"

"… so we figured we'd go along," Morgan added, "seeing how we're all going in the same direction ..."

"… We just need you or Mary Beth ta open the doors," George finished.

"Well, I can walk and still open the elevator door. It only takes my thumb print," I complained, trying again to get up.

"You're correct, however, that would leave the wheelchair empty and there's only so much space in the elevators. With you in the chair there's room for one more person in the elevator," Barb explained.

"So you want me to play the wounded soldier, so everyone else can ride the elevator, supposedly taking care of me," I rephrased, giggling at their absurd logic.

"Now you've got the idea. But, I don't think wounded soldier is appropriate, more like a mixed up munchkin," Tina confirmed with a laugh.

"Is moaning required? Or is that considered optional?" I asked, while giggling.

"Definitely optional," Hope replied.

"But sound effects would add to the overall experience and add a touch of realism," Em added.

We were all pretty much a herd of giggling sheep, as we reached the elevator. Just for effect, I moaned loudly, "Ohh, my arm. I don't think I can hold it out to press the button. Ohhh."-

I instantly had three giggling volunteers, lifting my arm and pressing my thumb against the reader. The doors opened and I was backed in, followed and surrounded by almost the entire year. The giggling and packing in of one after other, reminded me of a story mom told me once, not to long ago. When she was in college, she had a bunch of friends that were trying to break the record for the most people in a Volkswagen bug. I notice the sign above the control panel, 'Maximum Capacity 12'.

"You all realize we're exceeding the capacity by five,"

"That's okay," Em quickly replied. "That rating is assuming twelve full grown adults. Being that we're all smaller than any adult, we should be able to squeeze the entire year in at one time and still be within the weight limits."

"I'm not sure that building maintenance would agree with that logic," I teased, jokingly. "But, being that MayBee should only need the wheelchair for another week or so - I guess you better enjoy it while you can."

"So you're not going ta rat on us, are you?" George asked.

"Course not! After all, I’m one of the flock, aren’t I?"

"Flock? Don't you mean herd?" Misa asked.

"No, a group of sheep is referred to as a flock. However, this flock of Black Sheep sounds more like a herd of Elephants, at least when they’re going down the stairs to the pool each Saturday morning." That brought laughter from everyone.

As the doors opened, we were greeted by Abbey and Wally; the only two of the flock to miss the ride.

"Why didn't you two squeeze in?" George teasingly asked.

"Because there wasn't any room," Wally replied, shaking his head.

"Sure there was," Howard exclaimed, "plenty of room."

"Yeah, we could have shifted around some more, and held our breath," Deanna added, rekindling the giggle fest.

"And there was plenty of room on Matilda's lap," Peggy snickered.

"Oh, now I understand," I exclaimed, as we started down the hall, "you're trying to break my legs and make ME need the wheelchair, just so you can ride the elevators."

"Oh, no, we wouldn't let anyone break your legs. You're our favorite munchkin," Vikk declared.

"Yeah, we only need to beat them up a little," Howard teased, accompanied by laughter from the group.

Someone knocked on Ellen's office door, as we arrived. "Come in." Ellen called out.

As soon as the office door was opened and I was wheeled inside, I jumped out of the chair and dashed to hide behind Mary Beth. "Save me Dorothy. Save me from the witch's guards," I pleaded, jumping back into my munchkin character, while laughing and peeking out from under her arm. "They're plotting against me; first they tried to squish me into a sardine can. Then they were going to tear off my legs, as they did to the scarecrow. Save me, please save me!"

Everyone was laughing at my melodramatic performance, except Ellen. She was a bit confused by the scene unfolding before her.

"After all, I'm short enough as I am," I couldn't resist adding.

The guards, that is, the Black Sheep, started to form a circle around Mary Beth and me. Ellen quickly caught on and decided to join in. Rising she called out, "HOLD! These two are under the protection of Glenda, the good witch of the north. If you don't want to be turned into giant flowers, you will leave now, never to scare anyone again."

Even though George is sometimes a little slow catching on, this time he was brilliant. He bowed as he began, "Please good witch, do not turn us into flowers, there has been a terrible mistake. We are not the slaves of the wicked witch. We have been sent by his Excellency, the great and powerful Wizard of Oz. We are under his orders ta escort Dorothy and her pet munchkin to some enchanted rooms, high in the third tower, where they may rest in peace and safety."

"Great comeback George," Sue whispered.

"Thanks," he whispered in reply.

"Pet Munchkin?" I complained.

"Is that not how you were described at the ball on All Hollows Eve?” Tina asked.

"It is? I mean, was it? I don't remember that part. Oh well, I guess I've been called worse things. But what about the ride here, in the magical descending box, where you tried to squish me?"

"As I recall the event you are describing," Jenny explained, joining in the fun, "you were riding in the seat of honor. It was the rest of us that were packed in tightly. That way, there were as many as possible to protect you."

"All right, that's enough of this," Ellen called out, while chuckling. "I don't think I can stand much more of this nonsense. I suggest that you continue this comedy tomorrow. In ten minutes you're all supposed to be in your rooms, so scoot."

Amid groans and grumbling, year A left Ellen's office. Mary Beth was in the seat of honor with me at my usual position, providing the necessary momentum. The rest of the year bunched up around us, as we made our way back to the dorm. Everyone was chatting about the fun we'd had; and how amazing it was, everyone had fun, no body was hurt, and nobody got into trouble.

"You realize we have ta stop doing things like this," George cautioned, as we entered our dormitory.

"What are you talking about, George," Howard asked.

"Having fun and not getting inta trouble. We gotta stop doing that," George clarified. "It'll ruin our reputation as Black Sheep."

"Wait a second, George. I thought we were trying to build a new reputation, as kind and helpful," Barb reminded.

"And don't forget, smart," Morgan added, as the elevator doors opened.

After I backed Mary Beth into the elevator, we were followed quickly by at least half the year. Giggling, I worked my way around to the door.

"I’ll see you upstairs," I told Mary Beth, as I tried to exit.

"And just where do you think you are going?" Jenny asked, as several hands grabbed me.

"Just making room for someone else," I giggled. "I'll take the stairs."

"Oh, no you're not," Aaron stated. "We're sworn to protect you, to escort the two of you safely to your rooms. We can't do that if you're wandering about unescorted."

Suddenly, I was picked up by several of my classmates.

"Hold it. Stop this, put me down," I cried out.

"Besides, there's more than one way of creating extra space," Howard chuckled, as I was passed back inside and placed gently on Mary Beth's lap. The whole thing was so funny I started laughing, along with everyone else.

Mary Beth put her arms around me, asking, "Excuse me, do I know you?”

“It’s possible,” I replied.

“Have we met before?"

Giggling, I replied, "I'm not sure, but ... I've seen that smile somewhere before."

"I've heard that voice before."

"It seems we've talked like this before." We sang together.

"All right you two, what's going on?" Several voices cried out.

"Sorry," I giggled. "That's the opening lines of a song from a movie we've seen."

"A movie?" Barb asked.

"What movie?" Tina demanded.

"I don't think any of you would have seen it," Mary Beth confessed.

"Why's that?" Misa wanted to know.

"It's a fun little movie that was made several years ago. Teaching about life and death, and the consequences of the choices we make," I told them.

"What, not Star Trek?" Barb asked.

"Life and death? Sounds like a National Geographic documentary," Wally complained.

"Consequences of our actions? Sounds like something Mr. Peterson would make us watch," Morgan added.

"Oh, I don't think so, although it would be fun to see it again," Mary Beth replied, as the doors opened.

"So what is the name of this movie?" Jenny asked.

"It's called 'Saturday's Warrior.' There's lots of singing and dancing along with two people who fall in love," I added, while avoiding looking into Mary Beth’s tender eyes.

"Saturday's Warrior? I've never heard of that movie," Tina confessed.

"Me neither," Misa replied.

"I'm not surprised," I admitted. "It was made back in 89 with an LDS Church theme."

"Look out," SueAnn exclaimed. "Here come the tambourines."

"Now just take it easy, Sue. You guys were the ones asking questions, we just answered them. Nobody said anything about watching the movie, either individually or as a group," I clarified, as we came to a stop. "But, I’m thinking a movie night once a week would be fun. Have any of you heard of or seen ‘The Count of Monte Cristo’?"

The only sound I heard was the squeak of the wheelchair. I was beginning to think that my reason for being here, besides getting into trouble, was to bring a little culture to the year; thanks Mom.

"Here's your room, Matilda. Do you think you can walk in under your own power," Wally teased, as we stopped.

"Oh my goodness, I don't know if I can handle that," I exaggerated, as I got off of Mary Beth's lap. "Of course, I'm capable of walking into my room without help. Thanks for the escort. I'm sure the wizard will be pleased with your performance."

As soon as I was clear of the wheelchair, they started pushing Mary Beth to her bedroom door. "Goodnight, everyone," I called out just before I closed my door.

I'd selected my nightie and was heading into the bathroom, when Mary Beth came through the interconnecting door. "Those guys are some of the craziest people I've ever meet."

"And just think, they're our family for the next eight years," I reminded her.

"I guess we won't have to worry about being bored."

"That's for sure."

"So, do you want to talk now?"

"I think we should get ready for bed, read scriptures, and say our prayers first; we have a lot to talk about. Ellen said she would send Rusty a note, telling him we might not make it to class in the morning."

"I thought we only needed to talk about what happened to you tonight. Not to mention the one or two secrets you're hiding. Now you're telling me that there's more than that to talk about?"

"Yes, there's more. It's the more that caused me to flip out tonight. Let's get changed, then we'll talk."

"All right. I'll be back in a few minutes."

I changed quickly, brushed my teeth, and was sitting on the couch when Mary Beth came back into the room. I'd been trying to organize my thoughts and decide in what order to give her the information. After we'd read our scriptures and said our prayers, I picked up Nellie for comfort and courage before I climbed onto the bed and settled down, cross legged, for a long talk.

Mary Beth joined me on the bed, sitting close by. "Okay Munchkin, I'm ready. How many secrets have you been hiding?"

"Well, it's not the number of secrets that's important, because I don't know the count. The problem is the consequences of what could happen if the information I know, and what I'm about to share with you, became public."

"What do you mean, consequences?"

"Let's see, I guess I should start at the beginning. Remember when I was trying to figure out who I wasn't supposed to see?"

"That was a long time ago. Are you telling me that you've been keeping secrets for that long? Hey, wait a second, isn't that when you discovered that rule about not ever seeing our families again?"

"Yes … that's when it started,” I answered timidly. It seemed hard to talk about; I’d spent so much time hiding it. “In trying to find out who I wasn't supposed to see, I discovered a hidden computer server. That's where I found the no contact rule."

"I remember that day. I was heartbroken and mad at the same time."

"I know you were heartbroken, but why were you mad?"

"I was mad at you for finding it."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, hanging my head.

"After all, we'd only been away from home for two weeks and you go off and find that … that horrible rule. I didn't need to know that, I was happy thinking I could go home when I'm eighteen. Oh, but that’s not good enough, you come along and tell me that I can never go home, NEVER. Not only that, but then you tell me that we're the only ones that know about it and we have to keep it a secret from the others." She paused for a moment, which made me wonder if she was finished. She continued after I timidly looked up, but in a softer tone. "I was tempted to break your fingers, so you couldn't mess with the computers any more, but …” She paused and sighed, “… you didn't mean to find what you did. Besides that, you were hurting just as much as I was, maybe more. I think you weren’t only hurting for yourself, you felt guilty because I was hurting."

I had tears running down my cheeks as I stuttered, "S … So you don't want to b, break my fingers anymore?"

"No! I got over that urge pretty fast. After we’re done tonight it may come back, so watch yourself." The smile on her face told me she was just teasing, I hoped.

"So, do you want me to be honest and tell you everything, or just tell you what won't make you mad?"

After a short pause she replied, "Everything! I can always get over being mad. I just don't want you to flip out again because you're keeping secrets."

"Okay, but remember, you asked for it. The Monday after I had to tell you about the 'no contact rule' is when I told RJ that I'd found Joshua. To say he was shocked would have been an understatement."

"I remember that day; he kept you in the lab for almost three hours."

"That's right, he wanted to know how I'd found Joshua. That’s also the day that Mr. Peterson wanted to see me, that's when the nightmare started. Mr. Peterson told me I couldn't tell you about Joshua."

"Wait a minute, just who is Joshua? I don't remember anyone here by that name."

"Joshua isn't a who, well, at least Joshua isn't a human. Joshua is a computer, a very sophisticated computer. That's where all of the information about the S. P. A. and its activities are stored, at least this country’s branch of the S. P. A."

"What's the S. P. A.?"

"They’re the people who really run these schools."

"I thought the government ran the school. Wait, did you say schools?"

"Yes."

"How many schools are there? And who are the S. P. A.?"

"I’ve found detailed information for three schools, and vague references to some others. The three I know about are; Immigration Manor, it’s the only school in the US, then there's Hayfield Hall in England, and Wardenclyffe in Canada. We’re supposed to spend a night there on our way to Quebec."

"Spend a night where?"

"Sorry, I guess I'm moving pretty fast. On our way to Quebec, this school is going to spend a night at Wardenclyffe, the S. P. A. school in Canada."

"Okay, there are three schools and we're going to spend a night at the one in Canada. You still haven't told me who the S. P. A. are, or what they are."

"The S. P. A. runs the schools."

"You said that, but who are they?"

"I don't know exactly who they are. I know that the S. P. A. is not some secret branch of our government, or any government. From the information I’ve found, some members have been able to collect information from different governments and different branches of the military as well. They put that together with information that they collect from other sources. I’m not sure how they do it, but somehow they seem to have provided information that has broken up child prostitution rings, stopped drug and weapon smuggling, and even stopped wars from happening."

"This is what Mr. Peterson didn't want you to tell me? And all this you learned from Joseph?"

"That's Joshua, and yes; Mr. Peterson told me I couldn't tell you. You see, the S. P. A. is a secret organization, and they have people all around the world. If the wrong people got their hands on the information stored on Joshua a lot of lives could be in danger, some people would even be killed."

"Matilda, I'm back to thinking about your fingers again. I'm only ten! I don't need to know this kind of stuff. Knowing that if I say the wrong thing to the wrong people, this school would have to move again; or worse, be closed down! Not to mention that someone I don't even know could be killed."

"I'm sorry! I didn't know any of this would happen when I started looking into the school's systems."

I heard another sigh. "Oh, I know you didn't. It's just mister trouble following you again." Mary Beth's tone softened quite a bit. I knew she wouldn't stay mad at me for long. "Is that everything? All of the deep dark secrets out."

"Well ... Not really, more like the tip of the iceberg."

"What! You're kidding again, right? I mean, we've only been here for a month. How much more secret information could you have dug up?"

I'd opened my mouth to respond when she interrupted.

"Hold it! Forget I asked that question. For a moment, I forgot who I'm talking to. Okay Munchkin, let’s have the rest of it."

Over the next two hours I filled her in on all the details of the mystery group, which is actually Immigration Manor's Beta team. Of course, that didn't take two hours; but that lead to the Alpha team and their activities during the recent field trips. Then we talked about the Alpha and Beta teams at Hayfield and Wardenclyffe, although there was less information about them. I also told her about the extensive underground facilities under the buildings here and in the valley to the north.

After we finished talking I reminded my dear friend that there were only two people she could talk to about any of this, me and RJ. 'I wasn't even sure that Mr. Peterson knew everything that Joshua knew.'

Yawning, Mary Beth asked, “Is that everything? Are there anymore secrets you’re hiding from me?”

“Well … there is one more thing. Ellen said that she and I should talk about it before I told you, but I've gone this far I might as well go all the way.” I sighed, took a deep breath. I timidly looked into Mary Beth’s eyes, before saying softly, “Mary Beth I … I … I love you.”

‘There I said it. It’s out in the open. Now what?’

“Well, hey Munchkin, I love you too. Best friends love and help each other.”

‘She doesn’t understand. I guess it’s up to me to explain things to her, again.’

“No Mary Beth. I love you. As in ... I want to spend my whole life with you.”

“You mean like … like … as in husband and wife? But they, I mean a husband and wife … they … you mean you want … EEEEEEEW.” Mary Beth jumped off my bed and ran through the interconnecting door. All the time she was screaming “Eeeew” and “Yuck” and “No way.” A moment later, the door slammed shut.

I sat there crying, and hugging Nellie, “Well Nellie,” I choked out. “That answers that question. She doesn’t love me, probably never did.” Crying some more, “I guess I'd better get used to sleeping alone.” Looking at Nellie through tearful eyes, “Well, not quite alone, I’ll still have you with me.”

I don’t know how long I sat on my bed hugging Nellie and crying. Eventually, I lay down, and somewhere in the wee hours of the morning exhaustion overtook me and I fell asleep, but not before my pillow, nightgown, and Nellie were soaked with tears.

“Now I know I have a heart,”

. . .

“Because it’s breaking!”

. . .

* * * To Be Continued * * *

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